8/29/2010
Cold, cold morning after camping in the rain. Everything was damp. It cleared up a little as we hiked along, "Oh, hey, there was a huge beautiful mountain that just poked out from behind yonder cloudbank!" Apparently we were hiking by the Three Sisters, when previously it had just looked like we were hiking by trees and clouds. It got beautiful and the terrain became another breathtaking alien volcanic landscape. Sisters Trail Angel Lloyd Gus (or as we misheard, Lord Gust) had described the upcoming section as a "trough of razor-sharp baseballs." I thought it was rather fitting. As pleased as my eyes were, my feet were screaming in pain.
I had decided to skip the section between McKenzie and Santiam Pass in order to spend more time with Amy's mom, Cindy. Microburst and Sweet 16 were going to take a shorter town stop and hike the section, it was a way to appease everyone. The last I saw of them, I was running into the trees as Microburst called out, "Bye Poopy!" We drive each other nuts, but we also love each other so.
I ran into some weekenders that told me Highway 242 was closed at the PCT from fires, and to try my hitching luck from a nearby trailhead, offering me a ride down to Sisters if we were there at the same time. Shortly thereafter, another hiker ran into me at a trail junction, and ahead of his group and without maps of his own, asked to look at mine. We ended up hiking all the way back to the trailhead together, talking the whole way about a monthlong hike he'd done in Europe that I'd LOVE to do, mountaineering, and his upcoming bid for a state senate seat against the incumbent Republican. He was charismatic, intelligent, and very very good looking; if the voters in his district are as uninformed and easily charmed as I, it'll be a Democratic victory. I think I might try to stay abreast of politics a little better this fall. I always intend to, but now there's a more personal curiosity too.
His friends gave me a ride down to Sisters, where I drank a delicious huckleberry smoothie and met up with Cindy. It was nice to ride with backpackers: I wasn't as worried about disgusting them with my aweful hiker-stench, and they were all super-nice and friendly, I instantly felt so comfortable and at home with them that I had to remind myself that they didn't need a thru-hiker detracting from their victory lunch, it was time to give them space and attend to my own business once we got to Sisters.
Cindy and I spent the evening running errands, which always takes longer than I want it to. My most exciting purchase was a real spoon that won't break after a few days like all my cheap deli cutlery keeps doing, and nutella. I also bought a new shirt with no holes in the armpits big enough to stick my allayed hands through and some superfeet due to stabbing pains in the arches, but neither are as gratifying as eating. We went out for some delicious burgers and beers at the Deschutes brewery, I drank an "easily enjoyable beer inspired by the 'Mello Yello' song."
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Mile 1976ish: The weather sets in
8/28/2010
Clouds appeared two days ago- to add visual interest? They thickened yesterday- to warn us of the future to come? They leaked all over us today- oh, right. Weather. We knew it was an eventuality, we were just expecting it later. Micro (from Seattle) and I (from Anchorage) remarked to each other how much it felt like home. Except at home, we'd get to go home, and cuddle up with hot soup and a good book or bad movie. With my poncho, windbreaker, and fleece pullover, I could handle the rain, but I was none too happy. When the rain turned white and started falling slower, staying on the ground longer, I didn't know what to feel.
We ate lunch with Hot Mess and Sneezes, who we miraculously caught up to after being a week behind for ages: they had taken 4-5 days off in Ashland, and another zero in Elk Lake. It was a reminder of how fun guys can be to hike with- they're not all social misfits, inappropriate creeps, etc. These guys are witty, clever, and very very funny. Us girls laugh all the time, but the boys had me afraid of spewing tea out my nose. Hope we Leapfrog with them for a while, they're fun to be around.
I ran into a guy with snowshoes strapped to his pack, and asked him where he was headed. Apparently, he had missed the glacier. He felt sure that he knew where he was, and pointed to a region on the map way off trail. Anywhere on the trail would have been a more logical guess. I pulled out my maps and gave him the pages he would need to get to Elk Lake Lodge, where he could get back to civilization, and showed him on the map exactly where we were. I hope he made it out ok... I don't think it would be that hard.
Clouds appeared two days ago- to add visual interest? They thickened yesterday- to warn us of the future to come? They leaked all over us today- oh, right. Weather. We knew it was an eventuality, we were just expecting it later. Micro (from Seattle) and I (from Anchorage) remarked to each other how much it felt like home. Except at home, we'd get to go home, and cuddle up with hot soup and a good book or bad movie. With my poncho, windbreaker, and fleece pullover, I could handle the rain, but I was none too happy. When the rain turned white and started falling slower, staying on the ground longer, I didn't know what to feel.
We ate lunch with Hot Mess and Sneezes, who we miraculously caught up to after being a week behind for ages: they had taken 4-5 days off in Ashland, and another zero in Elk Lake. It was a reminder of how fun guys can be to hike with- they're not all social misfits, inappropriate creeps, etc. These guys are witty, clever, and very very funny. Us girls laugh all the time, but the boys had me afraid of spewing tea out my nose. Hope we Leapfrog with them for a while, they're fun to be around.
I ran into a guy with snowshoes strapped to his pack, and asked him where he was headed. Apparently, he had missed the glacier. He felt sure that he knew where he was, and pointed to a region on the map way off trail. Anywhere on the trail would have been a more logical guess. I pulled out my maps and gave him the pages he would need to get to Elk Lake Lodge, where he could get back to civilization, and showed him on the map exactly where we were. I hope he made it out ok... I don't think it would be that hard.
Mile 1919ish: Maiden Peak ski hut
8/26/2010
The Oregon-hiking was at it's best today: easy terrain, gorgeous views, plentiful water (as lakes), cool weather, and blue/huckleberries. Microburst and Sweet 16 stopped into Shelter Cove Resort since we'll be getting to the first access point to Sisters on a Sunday, when the PO is closed. I'll go in then anyway to see Cindy, my friend Amy's mom. We're going to meet up with them in Sisters on Monday, and then head out- me having skipped 16 miles in order to spend more time with Cindy.
I think I could move to Oregon just for its backcountry Nordic skiing opportunities. We're staying in the Maiden Peak shelter right now. It's super nice. Too bad my powdered goat milk exploded all over my foodbag- huge mess, the Reese's Micro brought back from Shelter Cove helped with my spirits.
The Oregon-hiking was at it's best today: easy terrain, gorgeous views, plentiful water (as lakes), cool weather, and blue/huckleberries. Microburst and Sweet 16 stopped into Shelter Cove Resort since we'll be getting to the first access point to Sisters on a Sunday, when the PO is closed. I'll go in then anyway to see Cindy, my friend Amy's mom. We're going to meet up with them in Sisters on Monday, and then head out- me having skipped 16 miles in order to spend more time with Cindy.
I think I could move to Oregon just for its backcountry Nordic skiing opportunities. We're staying in the Maiden Peak shelter right now. It's super nice. Too bad my powdered goat milk exploded all over my foodbag- huge mess, the Reese's Micro brought back from Shelter Cove helped with my spirits.
Mile1850.9: Crater Rim
8/23/2010
A quick summary:
We left our campspot within the lodge's landscaping not-as-early as we would have liked. The walk around the rim was beautiful, but knowing that the road around Crater Lake and the trail around the lake intersected at all the lookouts had me tempted to cut a few miles out by hitching. "No, I'll regret it if I do, I'll miss something beautiful." I actually regretted NOT doing it, because the section I was considering skipping didne't view the rim for the most part.
Once away from the rim, the trail was exactly as I had picture Oregon, flat and dry. A guy named Jake had met his dad in Crater Lake. Jake's dad told us allthat he was meeting Jake atthe highway with water- he'd share. We got there, no water. Si we hiked 8 more miles to Thielson creek.
A quick summary:
We left our campspot within the lodge's landscaping not-as-early as we would have liked. The walk around the rim was beautiful, but knowing that the road around Crater Lake and the trail around the lake intersected at all the lookouts had me tempted to cut a few miles out by hitching. "No, I'll regret it if I do, I'll miss something beautiful." I actually regretted NOT doing it, because the section I was considering skipping didne't view the rim for the most part.
Once away from the rim, the trail was exactly as I had picture Oregon, flat and dry. A guy named Jake had met his dad in Crater Lake. Jake's dad told us allthat he was meeting Jake atthe highway with water- he'd share. We got there, no water. Si we hiked 8 more miles to Thielson creek.
Mile 1834.9: Crater Lake Resupply
I learned something today: taking care of my feet at night is the most important part of my day. My new shoes, though squishy and comfortable underfoot, give me terrible blisters. So I've mostly been using Chacos, which give me terrible callouses. The callouses then split, causing deep, painful gashes. Solution: prevent crackable callouses by applying Vaseline (or Carmex, now that I'm out of Vaseline) after cleaning feet every night, then wearing socks to bed. Problem: I haven't been doing this religiously, so I got three in very rapid succession.
I learned something else today too: ibuprofen is not a choice. I was told by Hasty a long while back that ibuprofen needs to be in your system for a few days before it becomes REALLY effective. I forgot all about that, and since my knees were not hurting so bad anymore, I stopped/backed off on the regimen. Poor choice. My joints were scraming in agony.
So, I got up early, and hobbled down the trail excrutiatingly slow, trying to get to Mazama Village. It took a long time, but I showed up. I showered, resupplied, and did laundry, then we hitched back to Crater Lake lodge We ate delicious, expensive food, and stayed in the lodge to the extent that we actually just slept in the landscaping.
I learned something else today too: ibuprofen is not a choice. I was told by Hasty a long while back that ibuprofen needs to be in your system for a few days before it becomes REALLY effective. I forgot all about that, and since my knees were not hurting so bad anymore, I stopped/backed off on the regimen. Poor choice. My joints were scraming in agony.
So, I got up early, and hobbled down the trail excrutiatingly slow, trying to get to Mazama Village. It took a long time, but I showed up. I showered, resupplied, and did laundry, then we hitched back to Crater Lake lodge We ate delicious, expensive food, and stayed in the lodge to the extent that we actually just slept in the landscaping.
Mile 1807.5ish: a really good day!
Although I didn't make it out of camp by my goal time of 5:30, I did get out before the others by 6. I hiked and hiked and hiked, and suddenly, I was at my water source half an hour before I was expecting, 20 minutes before my original goal schedule: awright! If there hadn't been a sign, I would have blown right past it, I wasn't even looking yet. I celebrated by wasting time there until I was right back on schedule. It felt really nice to stop for lunch right at 12:00, right when and where I wanted to be, with nobody waiting for me, already halfway through their lunch. In fact, nobody caught up to me until I was packing up to move on according to schedule- and it was neither Micro nor 16, it was Gnar, back on the trail and going strong.
Around 5:30 or 5:45, I hit the trail junction that my databook said was 1.1 miles before our water source and camp spot. Yes! Sweet 16 caught up to me by 6:00, and we got to a little creek with great camping by 6:20. We dropped our packs, and celebrated our goood work by washing our feet in the water. Microburst came at 6:30 to burst our bubble: the data book was wrong, the true Honeymoon Creek was 2.5 miles after our little seasonal creeklet.
Despite our already long hike (20 or 22.5 miles) to do before the Crater Lake Post Office closes, we decided to stay here: end a good day on a good note. Unfortunately, everybody is going to try to get out really early in the morning too. I'm wondering if my "mental problems" are a self-fulfilling prophecy: if I'm behind, I feel I must be going slow, so I do. Tooday I broke that pattern, by leaving early and staying ahead.
Around 5:30 or 5:45, I hit the trail junction that my databook said was 1.1 miles before our water source and camp spot. Yes! Sweet 16 caught up to me by 6:00, and we got to a little creek with great camping by 6:20. We dropped our packs, and celebrated our goood work by washing our feet in the water. Microburst came at 6:30 to burst our bubble: the data book was wrong, the true Honeymoon Creek was 2.5 miles after our little seasonal creeklet.
Despite our already long hike (20 or 22.5 miles) to do before the Crater Lake Post Office closes, we decided to stay here: end a good day on a good note. Unfortunately, everybody is going to try to get out really early in the morning too. I'm wondering if my "mental problems" are a self-fulfilling prophecy: if I'm behind, I feel I must be going slow, so I do. Tooday I broke that pattern, by leaving early and staying ahead.
Mile 1780.6: Highway 140, The straw that broke the camel's back
Feeding us (really good food), letting us borrow their truck, and two nights of generous hospitality weren't enough for Robert and Lee. They wanted to meet us at Highway 140 to shower us with more kindness, namely non-trail food and wine.
Unfortunately, our schedule had us getting there early in the morning, a terrible time to meet for both them and us. So we pushed to get there at the end of a long day. Micro was stressed, getting there too late was just as bad as early in the morning, and she didn't want to make them wait. I tried to leave earlier than the others, but they passed me at 10 while I was searching for an outhouse and water by a campground. I rolled into lunch at 12:30 with 18 miles left to the highway, and heard Microburst telling Robert, "We'll get there between 7 and 8."
My mental math told me, "Whoa there, at 2.5 mph leaving at 1, you won't get there until after 8, plus you'll stop a few times for water, snacks, maps, etc." I truly did think she was calculating based on noon rather than one, so I said, "You might get there at 7, but I won't until after 8." She stewed on this for the rest of lunch, thinking I was accusing her of only thinking about how fast she hikes, not taking into consideration how slow I hike.
Once we were out of Sweet 16's hearing range, she burst into, "Just so you know, I'm thinking of you ALL THE TIME." And a fight ensued. Basically, we confirmed things that we already know: I hike slow. Micro doesn't like rolling into camp late. If we want to keep hiking with 16, it means long days of long miles. She doesn't have to wait, though she feels pbligated to and then resentful.
Of course, it didn't go down that drily. I cried, Micro accused me of being depressed and having mental problems. I remember yelling, "There's no point in waiting until dark for me if you're just going to leave me to hike by myself while you hike fast with [16] and feel sorry for yourselves!" She asked me for the umpteenth time why I'm not having fun, and if I'm not having fun, why don't I just get off the trail.
I hate that she puts these feelings in my mouth, just because I want to be done with this long-ass trail and get back to my regular life doesn't mean that I'm miserable every single moment I'm out here. I'm most miserable when Micro's waiting for me, actually. So we agreed that instead of worrying about each other, we'd worry about ourselves and do what needed to be done to take care of ourselves.
I got to 1/4 mile from Highway 140 at 8:35, where Turtle Don (a section hiker who does ten miles a day) was camped. He knew all about me from talking to Micro and 16, and proceeded to tell me all about myself and say how worried he had been waiting for me to come by. He was really nice, but I got really antsy with the cyclical conversation, and just wanted to get to the highway. I got to Micro and 16, eating a delicious picnic, at 8:50. There was super tasty (deliciously greasy and tender) rotisserie chicken, fresh fruit, ambrosia, and potato salad. I did my best to finish it off, then spent the next hour doing math and scheduling. My conclusion: in order to eat lunch at the same time as Micro and 16, and get to camp before dark, I'd have to leave "butt-fuck early."
Unfortunately, our schedule had us getting there early in the morning, a terrible time to meet for both them and us. So we pushed to get there at the end of a long day. Micro was stressed, getting there too late was just as bad as early in the morning, and she didn't want to make them wait. I tried to leave earlier than the others, but they passed me at 10 while I was searching for an outhouse and water by a campground. I rolled into lunch at 12:30 with 18 miles left to the highway, and heard Microburst telling Robert, "We'll get there between 7 and 8."
My mental math told me, "Whoa there, at 2.5 mph leaving at 1, you won't get there until after 8, plus you'll stop a few times for water, snacks, maps, etc." I truly did think she was calculating based on noon rather than one, so I said, "You might get there at 7, but I won't until after 8." She stewed on this for the rest of lunch, thinking I was accusing her of only thinking about how fast she hikes, not taking into consideration how slow I hike.
Once we were out of Sweet 16's hearing range, she burst into, "Just so you know, I'm thinking of you ALL THE TIME." And a fight ensued. Basically, we confirmed things that we already know: I hike slow. Micro doesn't like rolling into camp late. If we want to keep hiking with 16, it means long days of long miles. She doesn't have to wait, though she feels pbligated to and then resentful.
Of course, it didn't go down that drily. I cried, Micro accused me of being depressed and having mental problems. I remember yelling, "There's no point in waiting until dark for me if you're just going to leave me to hike by myself while you hike fast with [16] and feel sorry for yourselves!" She asked me for the umpteenth time why I'm not having fun, and if I'm not having fun, why don't I just get off the trail.
I hate that she puts these feelings in my mouth, just because I want to be done with this long-ass trail and get back to my regular life doesn't mean that I'm miserable every single moment I'm out here. I'm most miserable when Micro's waiting for me, actually. So we agreed that instead of worrying about each other, we'd worry about ourselves and do what needed to be done to take care of ourselves.
I got to 1/4 mile from Highway 140 at 8:35, where Turtle Don (a section hiker who does ten miles a day) was camped. He knew all about me from talking to Micro and 16, and proceeded to tell me all about myself and say how worried he had been waiting for me to come by. He was really nice, but I got really antsy with the cyclical conversation, and just wanted to get to the highway. I got to Micro and 16, eating a delicious picnic, at 8:50. There was super tasty (deliciously greasy and tender) rotisserie chicken, fresh fruit, ambrosia, and potato salad. I did my best to finish it off, then spent the next hour doing math and scheduling. My conclusion: in order to eat lunch at the same time as Micro and 16, and get to camp before dark, I'd have to leave "butt-fuck early."
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