Day 67
July 8
14 miles
mile 1169
Light made its way through windows and I awoke without being subject to divebombing. Red Bull to roofing and Lemonade to yoga. A most sincere thank you to the both of them for their unlimited hospitality. Let’s face it, they open their doors to a group of unwashed unknowns based solely on Otter’s recommendation. As Redbull said, “The trail has given us so much, we want to give back whenever we can.” True trail angels. And ones I hope to emulate.
Novel wall in lemonade shop
Breakfast at the well-named Squeeze In. Fueled by omelettes, we said our goodbyes to doc at the Greyhound depot. Then Otter returned us to the trailhead in a truck borrowed from Redbull. A debt of gratitude to Otter for his hospitality. Otter, in his typical humbleness, forgot to mention that he is a Triple Crowner a couple of times over.(AT, PCT and CDT) Said our farewells and were off, but me not so fast. My right knee was miserable. A limp developed. A formal contract, no more races.
Truckee Lake from Donner pass
I got lost in my head to distract the pain. Soon that translated into lost on the trail. As I marched towards Summit Lake the PCT went toward Castle Pass. I woke up at a trail juncture where I ran into Tortuga. She faced the same dilemma. What the hell happened to the PCT? To solve the puzzle she backtracked. I compounded my problem by choosing a trail that my gut told me would meet up with the PCT. Eventually, a half-mile bushwhack confirmed the valuelessness of my gut on this one. Coming out of the bush I arrived at yet another juncture at the same time Tortuga appeared. Together we figured out where the PCT wanted to go and followed it there.
Wild railroad tunnel from Donner Pass
Caught up to Orbit and Slack in front of the Peter Grubb hut. A now closed hut built in honor of a 19 year old rock climber. He had died while on a bicycling trip to Europe in 1939 as the clouds of war gathered. I limped on. The day was short due to the logistics of our arrival in Sierra City as well as our late start. I was happy to end early. The Mosquitoes had the same emotion about my arrival.
Figured out a way to get a gym workout out of the forest and then got down to the serious business of Ramen preparation. Viking appeared. Born in 1980 in Leipzeig then of the GDR. He was nine when the wall came tumbling down. His memories of those times made even my tired Ramen fascinating. He gave me some horse cream for my knee and I went to bed dreaming of a return to full speed.
Steve Halteman
On the Pacific Crest Trail
Hiking the PCT for the Kids of Escuela Verde
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