August 1, 2013
51 miles
mile 1723
The cathedral bells sounded at the appointed hour and I groaned enthusiastically. Orbit was in the same boat and already stirring. Needing coffee kept her in camp longer, so I was first to the trail. The plan was 40 miles give or take. On the trail by 4 AM and manufacturing miles. My strategy for a big day is to throttle back just a little and not push hard. That way the miles still come but without the accompanying exhaustion. Long hours will take care of the distance. And eat a lot, and then eat some more. I once gained 2 pounds during a 100 mile race so I know of what I speak.
Alpine desert at dark 30
Moved along in my private bubble of light feeling alone and content in the world. Every once in a while I shut off the light and went to still. The vast quiet electric. But the best part is the melding of the night sky with the forest. To me, in normal hours, the sky is remote and separate from the world I live in. I have no connection to it. But at 4:30 AM, on top of a mountain, I feel like I’m walking through the stars. I’ll leave it at that.
Dawn at 10 miles
The stages of light arrived. In procession. I began to be able to make out the animals behind the glowing eyes. I followed one deer’s tracks down the path for more than three miles. Orbit caught up to me and then the deer, a six-point buck. For whatever reason, the early miles a burden, but I kept gently pushing and aggressively eating. The milkshakes finally wore off and my pace picked up. As I passed through a long meadow and it’s resident crows, I realized that I would soon leave California after 88 days and 1698 miles of trail. What a great, and very long state. My thanks for the hospitality and good times.
Orbit becomes an Oregon resident
Yep
Welcome to the hotel Oregon. Such a lovely place, such a lovely place. Signed the register after 26 miles and walked into Oregon. Was it Orbit or I first mentioned a half-century as we entered Oregon. Probably it’s best to blame Orbit as she is the more fanatical hiker. But really why not 50 miles? The math worked, I think. Or at least she said so. I just kept going, which is the only way I know of to pileup miles.
A big event. Collided with the first southbound hiker of the season. His name was Bobcat. Had a great chat comparing notes. He was shooting to arrive at the Mexican border by the end of September. He told us that there were about 80 northbound hikers in front of us. This made sense as we were running into fewer and fewer hikers on the trail. We parted on opposite paths not to meet again.
At mile 43
The path kept climbing, eventually depositing us on a barren ridge line. The wind picked up and threw haze and clouds over the crest. The sun dimmed and we cut through it all. Forty miles came and went. The temperature went down the stairs into the basement. I put my down jacket on. The atmosphere turned a good spooky. And then, Eureka, a catch of warm mountain dew at mile 43. Caffeine breeds adrenaline. A long downhill breeds speed. Adrenaline plus speed equals goal arrival. How’s that for algebra?
That goal was the Ashland Inn. The night took over. The day began with headlamps and would end with them. I came upon Orbit stopped on the trail. The tracks on the path plus noises in the bush plus darkness made company a good idea. I agreed. In good spirits, our yapping was wide-ranging as we closed in on the Inn. It’s menu ever-expanding in our optimistic imagination. The path itself began to collect its toll. A cut here, a stubbed toe there, but it didn’t matter because the beer was going to be delicious. Or not.
Collapsing meadow house as Oregon border approaches
The Inn was a shadow within a shadow. A table and a tap was all that was available. On them the sign read welcome PCT hikers. Enjoy but no camping. What to do but push on. All went to slope. Finally a dip to a road. There, some flat bordering an ominous looking fence. A close examination of the sign on the fence. “If you can read this you are within range.” Maybe not this flat. Kept putting the nose northward. Tired now. All the dew used up. And then a cairn. And some steps up a slope. And a home. 10:30 PM. 51 miles in the bank after 18 hours on the move. Right on. A blurred dinner and my next memory was the sunrise.
Steve Halteman
On the Pacific Crest Trail
Hiking the PCT for the Kids of Escuela Verde
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