1 / Part 2) Sabine, October 19-23: Quincy to  nearly Chester

October 19.-23., Tage 203-207

PCT kilometers: 2,131; kilometers hiked: 3,636

 

The alarm clock and the sun wakened me. Hung the lamp on the solar panel and placed it in the sun. It's not very cold. Connected the cell phone to the powerbank.

 

(While writing, I note that I tend to use the present tense; I seem to write faster this way. It feels right, though, because I'm still feeling my experiences; they are still topical, even though some days have passed. So I've decided to continue writing in what I shall call the historical present.)

I'm still in the process of reorganizing my tent. The sleeping bag "sleeps" inside the tent – before, it remained in the vestibule, although it didn't quite fit – it's supposed to be waterproof. Olli used to park the bag outside, protected by a rain cover. I like to have my stuff easily within reach...

Breakfast consists of coffee, hot oatmeal pimped with 2 prunes, banana chips, and some leftover hazelnut chocolate. Delicious!

I repair Olli's down jacket - feathers are escaping from the sleeve. My blue Kine tape (better than duct tape because it's elastic) serves as an excellent patch. And it's nicely colorful.

Guthook check:

Heavy ascent today: from 3,600 to 7,000 feet.

More similar ascents to come on the way to Ashland – twice or thrice hitting altitudes of 7,000 and 8,000 feet (2100 - 2400 meters). It means low temperatures.

 

Checked water stations.  According to Delta_footsteps, who was here a week ago, there should be "good flow" in about 4 miles and 8 miles. I don't plan to replenish at either 4 or 8 miles, because there's been good flow nearly everywhere. Don't want to carry any more weight than necessary. The backpack is brimming and heavy because I'm carrying food for 8 days plus the tent in it.

 

Despite late start and ascents, I'm aiming for:

Tent site in about 18.3 miles (30 km) at Humboldt Trail Junction or at 19.5 miles (nearly 32 km), a spot with a view.

 

After taking down the tent, during which my rear-end muscles protested, I had a second breakfast, as is my habit. Karma Earl Grey and cheddar cheese, followed by a nut-pretzel mix.

 

To date I've lost 19 kg; Olli lost 15 kg (we had a scales in Sierra City to verify this).

 

A gradient of 1000 meters altitude is no fun. A few times it's relatively flat, e.g. across the meadow signposted "Welcome To Cascade Range, volcanic (andesite)".

On the back of the sign, from which direction I approached it, it says: "Welcome To Sierra Nevada, metamorphic (Calaveras Formation)."

 

Due to bridge construction, I had to cross the wide Chips Creek somewhat lower (refilled my bottle), passing by a campsite. I discover a Duracell monobloc battery. During our time on the trail,  we've collected magnets (which helps affix the tube of the camel bag – waterbag in the backpack - to the front of the shoulder strap), plastic, and various pieces of metal. The big battery, open in part, annoys me. But I still have a 175-km stretch to Old Station. I recall an ad for Duracell batteries from when I was a kid: a little toy monkey playing the cymbals at top speed. Ridiculous! I pass the bridge construction on the other side again, where I find a stack of wooden planks. I leave the Duracell there, in a bag, with a note written on one of the planks, asking the construction workers to dispose of it appropriately. Since there are several empty plastic bottles lying around, I assume the battery will be taken care of ... ?

Soon after, I take a break and have myself an instant strawberry-peach-flavored drink.

I think of Olli, who will soon be flying out of San Francisco. He'd planned to squeeze in a haircut before ...

 

6:45 pm on a mountain directly in front of Frog Junction at 7,070 feet - about 2,171 meters - I've got internet.

There's a message from Olli. Everything went fine. The passport check went without a hitch, despite expired B2 visa. Olli didn't even have to present his colorful ESTA printout. So we don't know if it would have worked. In any case, I still have to depart the country. So he saved the $450 it would have cost for an official B2 extension (see blog 114 on the visa issue). And I'll save the same amount.

Time to move on; it's windy up there and thus very cold - and nearly dark. But I enjoyed a fantastic sunset. I descend, switchbacking, refilling my water supplies at Frog Spring, pull on another layer, use the WC, and onward.

Nice trail descending: an open, more tidy forest, now Lassen National Forest.

I encounter a small black-and-yellow amphibian that reminds me of the German shoe manufacturer Salamander's comic figure, a fire salamander called Lurchi. The little fellow is in the middle of the trail, nearly inert; I nearly stepped on him. I take a few photos, film his movements...

 

After descending a few more meters' altitude, I've had enough. It's 10 pm. Decide to change my plan and stay at the Cold Springs campsite. One of the coldest, according to Money Maker. He's right. (See blog #112, re the Alpha 1 Foundation.) So today I only covered 12.7 miles, i.e. 20.5 km. The 1,000 altitude meters on stony paths covered with branches felled by autumnal storms have done me in.

 

While pitching my tent: a sip of whiskey.

Then dinner of freeze-dried beef with noodles, to which I add leftover chopped fresh peppers and olives.

Delicious! Dessert was Skittels and m&m's.

Music: Roberta Flack's "Let it be"

Recharged my cell with the powerbank; the red lamp held up well, thanks to the morning's recharging via solar panel.

Didn't see a soul all day!

The end and good night!

 

Next morning, I eat the leftover beef. Since Olli's departure, the portions are a bit too big for me, but practical for breakfast. Wash my pot at the spring, bring back water for coffee. Monterey cheese on a tortilla, followed by the last of the chocolate spread.

Arranging, packing in the tent, filling the Camel Bag.

Check the next trail section, water; make notes. Next tent site: 2. after PCT halfway marker (mile 1,323.5), so at mile 1,324.2.

The tent site is supposed to have internet, since the town of Chester is nearby. I need to take care of some bank errands, among others.

 

At Cold Springs I fill up both water bottles because the next springs are supposed to be difficult to refill; some are dry, the others too far apart or somewhat off the trail.

Sun's out. Blue sky.

Car stops on dirt road; driver's probably getting water. I hope he doesn't talk to me. Briefly, the disturbance feels threatening.

Another car with three women and black dog. They hike past me, without a good morning; maybe they didn't want to disturb me: I was squatting in front of the tent, albeit with my cell in hand...?

Hiking is strenuous. After an ascent (I'm sick of them) I take a break, though it's only been 4 km, at the junction to "Butte County high point." I eat.

Just past noon, I'm about to carry on, I encounter Doug with a pistol in his holster (to scare off bears and cougars by shooting in the air - nevertheless disconcerting) and Chuck from the north. Dayhikers, the husbands of two of the three women who passed me at Cold Springs.

They ask me where I'm from: southern Germany, Black Forest. As a kid, Doug lived in Kaiserslautern, where his dad was stationed.

They ask how long I'll need to reach Ashland. 2.5 weeks. I might get snow, they tell me; two weeks ago there was snow here, from the first early snowfall.

They offer me food, nuts, grapes, since they don't know if I'll be exiting at Chester. No, not planning to. I take the grapes and have a second lunch of cheese and grapes after the two leave. Yummy.

Before they leave, we shoot a selfie and Doug photographs me in front of Lake Almanor. Both have parked their cars at Humboldt Road & Summit. The women at Cold Springs. So they met up in the middle and had lunch together, just before meeting me. So the women will pick up the cars at Humboldt Road and the guys will take over the women's cars at Cold Springs. What a great idea; I need to suggest this to my blog translator Gabi, her husband Rudi, Olli and our friends Hardy and Rike (who live on the Swabian Alb). I regret not having given Doug and Chuck my trash, including the empty camping gas container.

I pick off the remaining grapes and drop them into a bottle, so they don't get crushed. This gives me an idea for how to sleep comfortably in the tent - after sleeping with my head downhill twice because I didn't see the grade properly: roll a grape!

When the grapes are gone, a round piece of wood. Olli nearly always calculated the slant inside the tent correctly ♥️.

 

Some distance away, I discover a ball of smoke above the forest, a little to the left in the direction I'm hiking. Fire?

Three fires are raging in the area; it often smells diffusely of fire, too.

Another sip of whiskey to keep myself motivated, then onward.

At 4:30 I reach Robbers Spring. A steep descent of half a kilometer. The flow initially seemed moderate; but the bottles filled quickly.

Around 6 pm I meet Dusty, 25 (Abby from Seattle), born in Frankfurt because her parents were employed by Brothers. She's heading southbound and is delighted to speak to someone; she's been hiking alone longer than I have. I have trouble recalling English vocabulary.We chat for 20 minutes. She wants to be a cop. Just graduated with a B.S.. Her studies included forensics, but she didn't like that, and it isn't the reason she wants to become a police officer. She just wants to be a cop in  Sacramento. I tell her about Downhill Mike, who gave us our trail names, who was a cop in Sacramento until he retired at age 50. Dusty has 10 days left; she's eager to finish the trail. The constant threat of twisting your ankle ... just like me. We made a selfie and said our goodbyes, wishing each other an animal-free night.

Despite the altitude, it's mild, compared to last evening (salamander-evening).

 

The smell of fires is strong, both during the ascent previously and afterward, on the downhill switchbacks. Once the trail leads straight on, through the woods, the smell is gone. Beautiful starry sky. A falling star; I make a wish ...

 

Darkness begins to fall.

I shlep water for dinner and breakfast up the mountain to the tent site at 7,300 feet and on to the PCT halfway mark at 7,200 feet - which is more of an end mark for me.

During the ascent, I had help from gummy bears. Once I reached the summit, the bag was empty.

9:30 pm: At the halfway mark at mile 1,323.5, I take a 30-minute break to leaf through the register.

Patience (Estonia) passed through on October 8. Mulan & 173 and Whistler also arrived before me. I register "us," take photos and shoot some footage, plus a video message for Olli.

 

10 pm, onward. It's cold now; I put on my windbreaker. It's only a mile to the second campsite after the half-way mark, where there's supposed to be internet.

 

I arrive at 10:30 pm, after some searching - thanks to reflective ribbons someone seems to have left purposely to signpost the way to the campsite.

 

I pitch the tent. There's really internet here! I check out Olli and Zarah's reunion video, send my own video message.

 

Dinner: Couscous in chicken broth, m&m's

(No more cheese and grapes.)

 

12:52 am. Time to sleep, after Olli's last message.

Cell battery dies ...

 

October 23

Woke up at 7:30 am. Communicated with Olli about his "PCT homesickness."

Emerged from the tent at 8:45 am, had breakfast in the sun, hooked up powerbank and camera charger to solar panel.

Cheese and grapes :-))

Read Olli's blog entry "At home."

Checked out next water supply station, which decides whether I can have oatmeal vs. tortilla. Reliable water stations are plentiful. The last one is at the "Bear boundary spring" campsite at mile 1,346.4. Those who camp here are no longer carrying bear canisters (I don't have one anymore either), hiking the almost 20 miles to the end of the boundary the following day, where there's a campsite with a spring.

Till then it's mostly downhill, which means I'm faster. Even though it's quite cold, I take care of some business online and make notes, which has the added advantage of being able to recharge my devices longer. By the time I set off, the day has nearly turned into a zero day. My bones and feet feel better. Thus I don't hike to the boundary, but instead use the campsite on Highway 36 (which goes to Chester). There's a picnic table, ideal for my breakfast. Two cars are parked in front of it.  I'm not bothered by the few cars that pass. After so much forest, I'm rather pleased by a bit of "civilization." I refilled my water supplies along the way.