August 25, 2013
40 miles
Mile 2383
Premature to pull the sheet over my face. Came to and tried rotating my left foot. An unwise move. Pain in three of the four compass points. The right knee also felt a mess. Hobbled around Camp a bit in the dark. What to do? Not enough food to rest a day here. So I threw it all together early, dry chewed two Alieve and walked into the fog at 5:45 AM.
A very curious sensation limping with both legs. Tried speeding up into the pain. Too masochistic for my tastes. So I did my best impression of forward progress and waited for change like the rest of the US populace. The morning lightened, as the pharmaceutical industry backed up their marketing. Two elk broke out of the forest and cut the path just in front of me. One with a trophy sized rack. Taking that as my cue I increased pace. My numbed stride held up. Well hell, I stepped on the throttle and took off. Speed from an unexpected freedom lifts the spirits as did regular guest appearances of rainier. At 12 miles I ran into Iceaxe who had also flip-flopped. Named for the five foot iceaxe she uses as a Walking stick, she told of a cabin just a mile up the trail. A destination.
Exploding tree
Mules by cabin, awaiting work assignments
There, was a camping party who used mules as transport. The party was led by Delbert who had camped at this meadow every year since 1957. I made myself at home with a couple of other through hikers and watched a husband-and-wife team try to saddle up a mule. The mule was having none of it and turned hostile. Fascinating to observe the handlers fine line between command and panic as he tried to control a bigger force. In the end he won but it was touch and go for a while.
Eating, as Orbit rolled in. She was smiles as she had expected to be pulling me by rope at this point. Explored the well-built cabin and pushed on. The huckleberries were thick, pick or walk the options. Took the third route. Maintain full stride and try to grab one at a time while keeping that full stride. About a 70% success rate. Walking with the joy brought on by unexpected release from injury. Rounded a corner on the right side of nowhere to a sign that said ” trail magic ahead.” Truth or joke?
Truth. Magic Man was playing magician. Under a big blue awning sat Magic Man talking to a stunned Spitfire. “Welcome. Doughnut? Chocolate milk? Frapuccino? What’s your pleasure?” “All of what you’re doing.” And so we sat and inhaled the unexpected pleasure. Magic Man’s daughter Boo Boo had taken a second shot at the PCT this year but had dropped out because of a stress fracture. “But I still like to do nice things for the other hikers.” The PCT is a magnet for the compassionate. We hung out. I have never eaten a Krispy Kreme donut before. Now I have eaten very many and varied of them. They are medicinal as my leg felt better than ever. Bid farewell and waddled fattened forth. Orbit grinned for miles through her frappestache. Good on you, Magic Man.
We bombed along for miles together exploring the nooks and crannies of each others lives. For four months we have hiked together. Into those four months ten years of friendship have been jammed. Without normal life distractions such things are possible. It has been my pleasure.
A twelve mile dry spell, which was dry because we missed the spring at the start. Alleviated thirst by playing the Picking Huckleberry Game. Which came first the Finn or the Hucklebery? Luckily the sky was gloom and the temperature low. Drizzle began at second lunch, thirty miles in. Feeling my oats. Where to end today? A defunct installation beckoned some ten miles on. A target. Came to a road and yet more ice chest trail magic. A root beer and an orange. There are good people in this section of Washington.
Rainier clears the air
Got to climbing. Arrived in the clouds. The gray swimming through me. Pushing it. Nothing could oppress me at this point. Caught up with orbit at a spring around 7:30. The rain delivered a supplement to the spring. Came across other through hikers setting up in the strengthening rain. Climbed higher yet. The moors turned haunted. My exhalation fog preventing my headlamp from doing its job. And then the mystery installation. Suffice it to say it had a roof, stove and electricity and was shelter from a liquid sky. Will leave it at that. To bed with this thought. When in life do you get three magics in one day? Always there is this three. Nice to be in the bag rather than under the sheet.
Steve Halteman
On the Pacific Crest Trail
Hiking the PCT for the Kids of Escuela Verde
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