August 5, 2013
21 miles today
Mile 1792 on the PCT

Veggie arrived late but Slack lay down to the night elsewhere. Two picture windows allowed in the morning wake-up call. I rolled out in time to catch Orbit’s science experiment. A dedicated coffee drinker who had runout of cooking fuel, there was a wild look in her eyes. In a corner of the shelter she found some old lighter fluid. Desperation breeds innovation. Through radical experimentation she figured out a way to make lighter fluid boil coffee water. The morning entertainment over, I filled my pack.

The morning hike passed through old-growth forests that had somehow escaped chainsaws. Then a curious turn. Slope after slope of torn and tumbled volcanic rock. It looked like the children of Gods had thrown handfuls of gravel thick across the landscape as part of some game. Mile after mile it went on. The trail makers must have spent months cutting a path through the rocks. The explanation I got in the end was that they were Shrapnel created when Mt. Mazama blew her top. Mount Mazama, 180° different, is now known as Crater Lake.

The PCT butted heads with Highway 140. 2 miles away lay the Fish Lake Resort and homemade pie. Easy decisions are pleasant for the brain. An attempt to hitchhike proved hopeless, so I called the resort and explained our desire and ability to spend an obscene amount of money in their restaurant. A car was sent out and we were soon busy reducing their inventory. There also were Commando (wearing his kilt), Spitfire, Geared Up and Dora the Explorer. We weren’t the only ones with weaknesses. Full and with plans to quickly return to the trail. A pool table cruely shattered these dreams. Eventually a ride from a 1975 PCT through hiker made our dreams a reluctant reality. At the trailhead I returned the lunch favor to a waiting Slack and northward was resumed. But not for me. A strong 4G signal allowed me to set up a journaling office under the pines. Good news poured in through the Internet and I was in a fine mood as I set off at 5:30 PM. It was 11 miles to my spring of water destination.

I was alone and moving well. The only distraction was the thick fire smoke that drenched every step. My new pack-a-day habit turned me contemplative. Since I was on a roll I decided to return to an old and so far, in three months, a seemingly unsolvable problem. Today was the day. After a couple of hours of hammering, a breach, and then the answer poured out. Relief more than satisfaction. If nothing else, the PCT hands you that kind of time on a platter.

Some of the good news. Red was back on the trail. On a diet of reduced miles and free of shin splint pain, he is in good spirits. In the same frame of mind I pulled in to Christie Springs just as all were wrapping up the evening. I started mine and grinned through couscous. Even the mosquitoes had to respect this elevated state of affairs. Not a bite. Back to Studs War and a story of a German soldier at Stalingrad who slept on top of his dead comrades to insulate himself from the frozen ground. All is relative and full of perspective.

Steve Halteman
On the Pacific Crest Trail
Hiking the PCT for the Kids of Escuela Verde

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