Tag Archives: PCT

Day 71 – Go ahead, drink the water

July 12, 2013
31 miles
Mile 1250

The sun got an early start and I took the cue. Wanted to put in some miles so I left quickly. My cramps from the night before stayed behind so my mood was elevated. The miles slid past. For hours I hiked alone, my focus shifting between internal and external scenery. The geography had calmed considerably since the dramatic high Sierras. The pine-covered mountains were more subdued and tended to stretch across the horizon rather than tear it apart as the Sierra crags did. All day I passed through pines. Monotonous to some, but my kind of monotony, like couscous. Can beauty be monotonous?

Typical blowdown

I started to run into people. Passed two ladies and their dog on a backpacking trip. Even the dog was packing two weeks of food. His pack was balanced with one week bouncing off each rib cage. Came upon a wonderful pair of volunteers humping a 32-inch chain saw up the mountain to clear the trail. This was fine news as the blowdown’s across the PCT in this area were extensive. I felt like a hurdler most of the day. Came to a paved road with an ice chest left out by the same volunteers. Unexpected Gatorade is incomparable. My thanks in print.

Typical spring – no need to treat this

Near lunch I came upon Halfway. In the guidebook we found a reference to Alder Spring and a mileage indication. Low on water, we had a lunch destination. We hiked and searched with no luck. Past the mileage point, past optimism, and finally arrived at resignation. Gave up, Sat down and ate dry. Had a good chat about the trickiness of fate, got up, walked three minutes and came to the spring.

The path dropped like a knockout. Eventually to 3,000 feet, the lowest point the PCT has been in 700 miles. In the back of the hikers head is the vague notion of “for every drop there is a corresponding climb,” but that is the burden of another day. The path in this area was rumored to be inundated with poison oak so I danced around everything with “leaves of three” which seemed to be everything. Ran into Viking who had seen one bear and four rattlesnakes during the day’s hike. The only animals I had seen were two sparrows that morning who had a dust up in the fire pit and then coated me with fine ash when they flew by my ear.

Feather River

Bridge at Feather River

Finally bottomed out at the Feather River, crossed its fine bridge,and camped at an even finer spot pointed out by a local. Rivers at lower altitudes are warmer, who knew? A long swim and then ramen on the grill. A dinner party of relaxed conversation ensued. Ole, Track Meet, Veggie, Orbit, Slack, Halfway and myself among the invitees. The sun took its leave and left the moon in charge. A bottle of whiskey made the rounds which eased my transition to my bedroom of sand.

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

If you’d like to help out and donate, please click here!

Day 65 – Jiffy Pop, blueberry cobbler and snow women

July 6, 2013
26 miles
Mile 1128 on the journey:

Tahoe Rim Trail

The mosquito alarm went off early so I rose to write. Caught up as the others stirred. Orbit was first to take off. Slack drifted off to his constitution but was interrupted preact by the arrival of two rangers bushwhacking. I had just finished removing traces of our fire along leave no trace procedures. The Rangers delivered a fair and extended dressing down about the prohibition against fires in the desolation wilderness. In our defense we had observed a number of fires as we rounded Susie Lake, but rules are rules. We returned the area to pristine condition under their watchful eye. No more campfires, but we went out in style with Jiffy Pop.

Rock imprisoned but not forever

Off, and making good time. Missed a signpost, took the wrong turn and saw a beautiful lake for my screwup. A lot of families on the trail. Good to see kids taking their parents backpacking. Ran into G Bird, a German woman who was having problems with the psychology of the trail. She’ll come out on top. Then Viking with his ever present bear bell.

Snowwoman

Crested Dicks Pass where Orbit had left one of her signature snow women as a sign to Red to pick up the pace. Speaking of which Red will rejoin the trail today after his embrace of a friend. Hopefully he can make up the miles within a week. Not easy, but I have seen with my eyes Red fly on land. Had my hiking permit checked yet again by rangers and then sped toward lower elevations. The Rangers mentioned on departure about obeying the speed limit.

North side moss hanging on

Lunch with Slack, Orbit, Veggie and Ole around a mosquito birthing center. Doc failed to arrive as has become his habit. More miles. Passed two trees violining each other with every gust of wind. Heard that an Oak tree in Yosemite Valley had fallen on a group of people killing one and injuring many. Fate is always out there lurking.

Trust fall

The PCT had joined with the Tahoe Rim Trail by this time. Took an afternoon’s rest by a lake where Orbit charmed two sodas off some campers. More miles, and the strange sensation of a car coming at me in the woods. I spun around in defense, but nothing. Turns out I was standing next to a road I couldn’t see. Then a long line of monster trucks. You never know what you’ll see standing amongst pines.

A climb to yet another pass where an unexpected spread of cherry tomatoes, home grown strawberries and gingersnaps awaited. Foraging is as much luck as art. A climb down as Lake Tahoe presented herself. Rounding the bend, my cell phone found a signal. Siri gently broke the news that the Orioles had narrowly lost to the Yankees. I said some unkind things about the state of the world and walked it off. Fell in with Otter for the final hiking conversation of the day and learned a little about the life of an itinerant golf pro.

Camp was on a ledge shaded blue by the waters of Lake Tahoe. Couscous went down as I listened to each recount the events of their day. Storytelling is much in style along with PCT and there was some good ones. Doc, who had finally appeared, made group blueberry cobbler which was a fine dessert to both a meal and a day.

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

If you’d like to help out and donate, please click here!

Day 63 – Spoiled at the Carson Pass Visitor Center, then ate flies

July 4, 2013
20 miles today
mile 1092 on the journey

Perfect

The day bloomed across whitewashed trunks and I set off towards South Lake Tahoe and a country’s birthday. Offroaders had torn up the trail as far as they could until the terrain repulsed their efforts. I plodded along slicing glacier bowls horizontally. The pattern of sharp down, groove the curve and then scramble up Repeated repeatedly. After 6 miles Carson Pass was within range. A trickle of hikers became a flood as many were free from work. A rumor of donuts at the Carson Pass visitor center quickened my pace and destination enthusiasm.

The visitor center was staffed by volunteers a cut above, many cuts above. The first question “would you like a slice of watermelon?” The next, “anything else?” Yes and yes. Orbit and slack pulled up as a platter of french bread, butter, hummus, guacamole, Three different kinds of gourmet cheese, finely sliced cucumber, grapes and the aforementioned watermelon were placed in front of us.Had a wine list been presented I would not have registered Shock, because I was in shock. The volunteers asked for nothing in return but conversation, which ranged wide. We talk of early climbing days and characters who had populated the ranges. Of Indonesia and Nepal. Their knowledge of trails as well as trails of the world was expansive. I tried to contribute to the conversation between inhaling my picnic, but it was easier and more entertaining to listen. Hey, full thanks to the fine volunteers at Carson Pass.

Ambled on. Passed a large woman with a large dog. The dog looked interested in my leg so I said “hello big un” to indicate my friendliness. The woman turned to me and said “are you talking to me?” “No!” I returned in panic. She smiled, joke on me. The path began its long slow pour into South Lake Tahoe. Hung out at a bygone cabin and had a formal bath in the lake to spruce up for town. In other words I dove in the lake with all my clothes on. My drying line was more hiking. As I steamed a horse fly landed on my beard, just below my lower lip, looking for a bite point. Non instinctively I sucked in my lower lip, and drug him into my mouth with my front teeth. Then I spit him without breaking stride. Probably the next step in my trail evolution will be swallowing him but I’m not there yet.

Arrived at the trailhead/highway 50 at about the same time as a couple and their dog that we had been playing pass tag with throughout the day. They pass, or we pass, depending on breaks, speed or dogs rolling in snowbanks. Their friend was picking them up in a van and they offered us a ride into town. In town, their generosity continued it streak. Mike and Jen, professors at the local community college, opened their doors and vacationing kids bedrooms to three oderous through hikers. The kindness and generosity of people all along this trail needs to be trumpeted, but it goes unsung because it is not newsworthy. I’ll do my best here. Thank you Mike and Jen for your kindness, hospitality and good unto others. And also for the Q-tips which I used to pull something that once had wings out of my left ear.

Deposit by Jen at the heart of South Lake Tahoe we beelined to an all you can eat Indian restaurant. The clientele was almost exclusively Indian which immediately established the restaurants credentials. We did the usual damage to the restaurants profits, but the main event was the arrival of doc, returned from lost in the forest. He caught up on his tail of misdirection, adventure, woe and guiding his parents through the high Sierras. But the good doctor was ready to rejoin orbit and sons and hike properly again.

Soon Tashi joined the party. A climbing friend of Slacks, we had first met at the hot springs in Bridgeport. There, she had arrived after dark, so we had an extensive conversation completely blind. This I was meeting her for the second time but seeing her for the first time. Our party moved towards ever higher vantage points for the start of the fireworks. It was quite a show though a rude Pine refused to move out of the way. The highlight to me were the fireworks that blossomed into smiley faces which made me think of my daughter. The evening closed on party rock high over Tahoe. The vantage point allowed one to digest both the city and solar system with a click of the eye. Tahoe was not done celebrating but we were. We dropped Tashi and Doc off at the brothel. A rental house so named because all its inhabitants are females. I’ll never forget Doc’s frightened face as we drove away. Orbit’s extensive navigational skills, honed on the back roads of Albany, New York brought us back to Mike and Jen’s place on Hunk Papa Road. There to sleep. Thanks in order to the lovely Tashi for her car loan. And finally feliz cumpleanos de Estados Unidos.

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

If you’d like to help out and donate, please click here!

Day 62 – Lightning strikes and I race with Valentino

July 3, 2013
27 miles
Mile 1067

The price of a mosquito free night was a lack of flat ground. Thus I awoke in a ball at the bottom of my tent having slid down there throughout the night. Back on the road by 7:30 AM chasing miles. Almost all of the geology now is volcanic. Eroded crags point to the sky and meadows are filled with conglomerate boulders that have tumbled down from high points. A conglomerate boulder, to my untrained eye, is made up of many smaller boulders cemented together by volcanic ash. The skyline is harsh, but balanced nicely by plush meadows filled with wild flowers encouraged by the recent rains. Walking through the meadows stirs the plants, which scents the air with clean, strong smells. Impossible not to enjoy the miles.

Two on the road

Came upon Eileen and her horse Valentino. They are trying to become perhaps the first horse and rider to do the entire PCT in one season. Apparently Valentino had been spooked by the snow on forester pass and was no longer a fan of the fluffy stuff. Every patch finds him being walked around the offensive material. At one such spot we met. Having once ran a 100 mile race that had both human and horse participants, I decided to engage in a friendly competition with Valentino to see who would finish the day first. Valentino’s response was “give it your best shot,” and then he took off in a gallop. I inhaled dust, but the day was young.

Valentino and Nemesis

Came upon some trail magic left by Waldo, a 2012 PCT hiker. One last Coors was left in the cooler and Orbit and I split it, toasting our two month anniversary on the trail. It made for a fine late breakfast. Cheers Waldo. Soon followed by a lazy lunch of bacon jerky and warm mozzarella burritos. I cut the laziness short though because Valentino was pulling away and I could feel it.

Mount Suribachi Iwo Jima from World War II with raised American flag on the PCT

Bonsai tree with pack for scale

It took me a few miles but I finally passed him on a long downhill and it was his turn for the dust. The path flattened out and meandered through pine forests populated by stagnant ponds and my buzzing nemesis. The building thunderstorms seemed to stimulate their aggressiveness. With the race well in hand, I took a short break to purify water and feed the mosquitoes. Valentino snorted “sucker” as he blew by. Off in hot pursuit to no avail, as the race was over a quarter-mile later at the blue lakes road where Valentino awaited his nightly pick up. All hail Valentinus victorious.

Volcanic crags

The thunderstorms added lightning to their repertoire and I began to look for a home. It was around mile 24 but frustratingly no flat spots with water presented themselves. The trail left the comfort of the pines and climbed upward toward a barren, exposed volcano. With lightning now striking in front and behind me, I was not enamored with this trend though the view packed a punch. Spooked a few deer off the path. One trotted about 50 yards off and sat down on its butt, front legs straight like a dog. That I had never seen.

Highwater marks

I had a solicitous conversation with the trail. Surely you’re not going to drag me up over that mostly exposed ridge in a lightning storm? The trails muteness an affirmation. Resigned I climbed. To pass the time I would count the seconds between flash and crash. As always in such times alternating between fear and charged with life. After a couple of miles the trail began its drop toward the lake. I’d live to walk another day as always – until the day I don’t.

The camp around a greatly reduced lake was ideal and mostly bug free. With chores over early there yet remained light for a read with a log pillow. Viking, a mountain guide from Germany who looks the part, showed up and told a tale of a great hike in Iceland where you can cook sausages in hot springs. A plan began to form…

Viking

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

If you’d like to help out and donate, please click here!

Day 61 – Missing Red Beard and lunch before the storms

July 2, 2013
27 miles today
Mile 1045

Returned to the trail courtesy of Preston who had field work to do in the area. We talked more of Preston’s research. Much of his field research takes place in the winter. Sonora pass is closed seasonally because of snow. How to get there? How about hitch a ride with the Marines in one of their tanks? Fun solutions are better. Speaking of fun, he was once cross country skiing through fox habitat on the lookout for scat. He crested a snowbound ridge and came upon 500 Marines engaged in an epic snowball fight. If only warfare could be so civilized.

Thought of UB on the ride out. Ran into him at the motel. He seemed at his limit mentally and physically and was headed back to San Francisco for a week of rest. The trail had handed him a beating. But like any boxer headed to the corner he would be back for the next round. That you could see in his eyes. Crossing paths with him again before Canada a certainty.

Pretty

Ran into Muk Muk at the Sonora Pass trailhead and got caught up. Said our farewells to Tortuga who had Hitched out with us from Bridgeport. And we’re off, sadly and strangely without Red Beard. Starting at a pass always means a climb up and that is how we engaged, Charged with adrenaline but slowed by three days worth of food. Everywhere there were grasshoppers who, when they flew, sounded like baseball cards hitting bicycle spokes on a hot August afternoon.

The terrain continued its trend toward volcanic. Old cinder cones began to appear. This was a good thing as crushed ash makes for soft walking. Of interest today as both of my knees were feeling centarian. Lunch was by a stream, against a rock that had a perfect La-Z-Boy angle. This sky was crystal blue during the appetizers and dark gray by dessert. Within the first post lunch mile the thunder had started and drizzle had commenced. Patches of blue remained and I wanted to race toward them, but the slotted track I was on constantly veered back towards the muck.

Storm over volcano cone

The thunder crescendos increased and the sky tension built. We raced on to camp. Then a mighty crack of lightning that drained the storm of its enthusiasm. We were scott-free, or so we thought, for the storm seem to reinvigorate the mosquitoes. They returned with hunger.

Home for the night just above the snow patch

So we kept walking, until a windblown pass high above all. There we made home and watched with pleasure as the slipstream sucked mosquitoes over the edge and hopefully to their doom.

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

If you’d like to help out and donate, please click here!

Day 60 – Ceiling view at the Silver Maple Inn

July 1, 2013
0 miles

Unfamiliar surroundings as I opened my eyes. Where was the sky? Oh yeah I’m in a bed in the Silver Maple Inn. And that above me is what is called a ceiling. And nothing has any particular interest in eating me. Perhaps I shall go dine. And so I did, extracting roughly 3,000 cal from their continental breakfast.

Our Silver Maple corner

As always in a town, it was a time of news. Both good and bad. Red Beard received the roughest of all. A good friend had lost his battle against cancer and had but a short time left. Being the man that he is, Red jumped on a bus to Reno, then a flight back to Seattle, to say a proper goodbye. His plan to be gone for a week will put him far behind us. But knowing the speed of red There will be a reunion down the trail at some point.

Spent the morning battling a communication and blog deficit. Had successes but the sand never stopped pouring downward and soon the sun was directly overhead. The plan was to return to the trail in the early afternoon. But a long lunch and a finicky resupply in a store with limited resources pushed the departure time ever back. The store was without couscous and my dinner prospects dimmed. An afternoon thunderstorm and shower further dampened a trail return enthusiasm. Time ticked and a meeting was held. SlacK, Orbit and I concluded that a day of leisure was in order. The cloud lifted and I exhaled.

Ran into our old friend otter and new friend Tortuga, on the street and rebooked our room as group.Then tracked down a fine corner office, encounsed myself, and completed all the requirements of a modern life as the afternoon ran towards evening. Satisfied, with the workdays production and the league standings of the Baltimore Orioles, I was happy to see Preston pull up in his truck with dinner plans in hand.

The evening meal took place in Preston’s Department of Fish and game trailer. The food was a bulking concoction created by Preston that was outstanding In both taste and appearance. Eaten communally on group plates using chips an enormous amount was consumed. The atmosphere was relaxed and old-fashioned, as orbit slack Preston and I took turns telling stories. The highlight was Preston telling of an early climbing accident in Pennsylvania.

Preston, at the time 12, and his older brother Jared who was 16 were free climbing along a cliff. In English, without ropes. Preston was above his brother when he fell. The ground was 80 feet away. Preston had fallen about 4 feet and was picking up speed when he sailed by his brother. Jared took his best shot. He let go of the rock with one hand, and jammed that hand into space and took a grab. That grab seized Preston’s wrist. Gently he placed Preston back onto the rocks and the climb continued. Parents were never told and that was probably for the best. Preston continues to climb but always remembers his closest call for caution.

Dessert was dark chocolate and lobotomy bock. Then to mattress and pillow. My last thought was probably a first for my life. What would it have been like to have had a brother?

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

If you’d like to help out and donate, please click here!

Stories from Steve

Steven "Blast" Halteman – Author, Adventurer

Tag Archives: PCT

Day 71 – Go ahead, drink the water

Day 65 – Jiffy Pop, blueberry cobbler and snow women

Day 63 – Spoiled at the Carson Pass Visitor Center, then ate flies

Day 62 – Lightning strikes and I race with Valentino

Day 61 – Missing Red Beard and lunch before the storms

Day 60 – Ceiling view at the Silver Maple Inn