This section can best be described in three words: exposed, hot, and climbing. Castle Crags towered over us in the beginning looking quite cragly but providing little shade, and the trail stretched before us, rugged and climbing. Though incredibly beautiful, our victories on this section amounted to reaching the end of the steep part of the climb, finding shade large enough to pitch our tent in to nap, and cooling off with a swim in a beautiful lake.

Oh yeah, and not getting bit by a rattlesnake. That was an early but important victory considering I put my foot down right next to its head. Turns out humans also give off audible warnings, though they’re about three octaves higher than the snake’s.

But let’s return to this lake for a minute, because it was a really special treat. For most of our hike so far, we ended up at nice swimming holes either too early or too late in the day to truly enjoy them. This time, we arrived at the lake (Porcupine Lake) around noon after a hot morning. We stripped to our skivvies and waded in to the warmest water we’ve yet experienced on the trail… Meaning we got a refreshing 5 min swim before the chill reached our bones. Oh but it was worth the dip! And the next couple hours were spent lounging in the shade, reading and gazing at the crystal waters – truly a beautiful experience.

That evening brought another cool encounter (cool as in neat… it was still hot as hell) – seven deer along the trail all within a mile. It was as if we stumbled into there territory and just missed the sign. One was even lying in the trail and didn’t move until we got within 5-10 feet of it. We thought it was injured. It was not. That’s how hot it was. The deer wouldn’t even leave its shady spot on the trail until we were close enough to hug it. And even then, it seemed to rather lumber off over prancing away. (Unfortunately, we could not have gone around the deer safely as that portion of trail was lined on both sides by boulder fields.)

 We’d decided before leaving this week to cut out early to check on weather. It had looked like storms might be coming, and we were hiking through very exposed terrain with little opportunity to get into trees for protection if need be. The evening before reaching our out, as we set up camp, a woman came hiking along and set up camp near us. She introduced herself as Steady, and we said, “Steady, wife of Subway Steve?!” [of the previous week’s mini pie fame], and sure enough it was! We were lucky to run into Steady, because Subway Steve picked her up the next morning and gave us a ride to both a ranger station to check weather and back to town once we saw the weather was turning bad again. And of course that was only after peppering our pallets with pastries. Yum!

Unfortunately, we did leave the trail for several days to let the weather pass. We’re continuing to check on it, but look for our next post to cover our 4th of July weekend backpacking the coast in Redwood National Park!

“Wow,” Strog began, emerging from the dense forest as I swatted yet again at the elusive flies floating in front of my face. “I think we just hiked out of the forest and into Switzerland.” I refocused my eyes for the view and let my jaw drop as I took in Mt. Shasta in the near distance and the wild flowers around us. A daring fly seized it’s opportunity and dove into my mouth. Perhaps I should have been grateful for the extra protein, but I wasn’t.

Instead, all my gratitude went into the scene before my eyes. When you’ve spent the better part of an hour or a day hiking through trees and you finally emerge on an open, flower-covered hillside with a spectacular mountain in front of you, well, it’s like stumbling upon front row tickets to a private concert of your favorite band. You can’t help but stop and show gratitude to the universe for creating such a majestic scene and placing you in it. And grateful we were, displayed largely in the act of taking breaks and eating at each perfectly placed viewpoint: bagels and cream cheese in the pre-noon hour, ramen in the afternoon, and beef jerky and candy bars in the evening.

You see, this week blew away our expectations. We stayed relatively low in elevation (mostly well under 6,000 feet), and so we expected to encounter quite a tough week of hiking over terrain covered in desert and grassland foliage with little shade. Surprisingly delighted were we to encounter continuously beautiful terrain: mountain and valley views, rivers, and waterfalls amidst lush shaded forest hiking. Perhaps due to the majestic views that continually surprised us or the relatively easy hiking terrain, but probably due to a combination of things, this last section has been our favorite so far on this trek.

 One strategy that made this week more pleasant was our early morning wake up times. We set the alarm for 5:00 am each morning and were hiking by 6:30. I know, I can’t believe it either. Nor can I believe that I just admitted that it made our experience more pleasant. But it’s true! The early morning hiking was cool and peaceful. By early afternoon the temps were unpleasantly hot, and we’d find shade, pitch our tent, and nap or read the afternoon away and hike on into the evening. It was really lovely despite my daily morning protests. And we got to see a couple of incredible sunrises. It’s amazing how we never seem to become habituated to sunrises and sunsets. No one ever glances west and says, “Oh that? Just another sunset.” Each one is something to pause and pay reverence to.

We also felt really strong this week: strong in our legs, our feet, and our spirits. It takes awhile to really build up hiker legs and feet – those that can go for miles and miles without tiring then get up and do it again the next day. Those for which a hill is just a hill and five miles is a short jaunt. We are certainly not as strong as the thru-hikers we’ve met, but our multiple 15 mile days mixed in with an 18er and our newfound ability (or at least newfound for me) to steam roll up hills shows us we’ve acquired our hiker legs. And it feels really good.

Of course, the legs are carried by the spirit, and to that end our spirits were lifted time and again by surprise views of Mt. Shasta, by cool streams to rinse our faces and soak our feet, and by incredible rivers and waterfalls. Each time the hiking started to become monotonous, we were met with some delightful surprise that lifted us up and lightened our load (at least metaphorically).

One such surprise (man-made, though, not natural) came partway up our last big climb of the section. We’d just powered up the first, steep mile after filling our packs with ten miles of water for a hot day when we came to a road. Luckily for us, we were perfectly timed to meet Subway Steve, trail angel and bearer of all things delicious. At first we turned down his offers of sandwiches and Gatorade: stuffing myself before a climb is never good. But then Steve mentioned pie. Pie, you say? Yes, I think we could probably help relieve you of that excess-pie problem you’re having. A mini pecan and lemon pie later (separately – one pecan, one lemon) and we could have sprinted the rest of the climb. Thank you, Subway Steve, for lifting our spirits and making pie our new hill climbing sponsor – this climb is brought to you by… Pie.

All in all, this week has been beautiful, fun, and everything we could hope for in a hike, really. All the awesomeness overpowered the flies, bees, mosquitos, and overly intimate sessions with poison oak (another story for another time). Happy trails!

Oh wait! Don’t go yet. I forgot one other piece – babies! Babies everywhere! Baby deer, baby snakes, baby lizards, baby birds – no baby bears or mountain lions yet (and no baby humans). Babies definitely added to the amazement of the week. So we’ll leave you with this video of babies being surprisingly unafraid of us.

There are so many stories that make up this crazy week of hiking for us. And we are stumped by how to relay all the amazing tidbits to you without droning on about each one. I mean, it might interest you to learn that we hiked 15 miles (our longest day yet) to arrive, unexpectedly early, at a guest ranch serving us a three course, cloth napkins, meal. But do you really need to know the details of each delectably amazing course? Um, yes. Yes you do.  

 And you’re probably a bit intrigued knowing that Bling got a blister so bad she hiked 4 miles one afternoon in a flip flop.  

But do you really want to see the blister? Or the subsequent shoe surgery that allowed us to continue hiking? (We almost cut out early due to the pain.) Oh, you do? We appreciate your interest! Click for blister and shoe surgery pics.

But really, the tidbits do go on and on… And in between those tidbits we did some of our strongest hiking yet through beautiful volcanic Lassen Park and along the incredible, and incredibly exposed, Hat Creek Rim. So maybe it’s best if we relay the week in pictures instead of words.

 

 
 

 
 

 
 

  

 

And we met a trail crew who let us help out for a few minutes. 

 

 
 

 
 

   

 

Picture pause for a few words on the hat creek rim experience… Hat Creek Rim itself is a 23 mile section of mostly exposed trail in the middle of a 30 mile waterless stretch. The guidebook and handbook warn about how hot it can be and recommend hiking as much of it as possible in the late evening and early morning. And hikers seem to share their Hat Creek Rim experiences in a where-were-you-on-9/11 sort of way. We followed the recommended plan, hiking through the evening and again very early in the morning to complete the rim in about 18 hours.  We carried seven liters of water each. Although we certainly didn’t experience the hottest temperatures possible (one PCT thru-hiker said it was 115 degrees at night when he hiked it in 2013), we got a good taste of the heat in our second day as we finally finished the rim at 1:30pm, well after the recommended get-down-off-the-rim  time. 

While the heat is usually the primary topic when it comes to Hat Creek Rim, we were struck by how incredibly beautiful it was. We had our first real views of Mt. Shasta and beautiful views of Mt. Lassen’s snowier north face, Hat Creek Valley, and lots of wildflowers. We hiked a small portion at night – a moonless night – and so had incredible views of the Milky Way too. All in all, the beauty outweighed the heat, our heavy packs, and our achy joints, making for a delightful experience.

 

 
 

 

Suffice to say, it was an exciting week. And we are glad to be hitting town for a rest day complete with hamburgers and milkshakes!

What a difference the sunshine makes! We were nine days on this last stretch from Quincy to Chester and Mother Nature ensured it was a completely different experience from our first week. The sun was shining. The birds were singing, and all the critters that hide in the storms were out playing. In short, it was a wonderful trek.

After a very long weekend in Quincy that left us wondering if we were still hikers, a previous hiker and trail angel gave us a ride back out to the trail. With the promise from NOAA of good weather, we were set to try this whole hiking thing again.

We hit the trail the day before our 4th wedding anniversary, placing us in one of the most beautiful locations to celebrate the next day – the Middle Fork Feather River (see top image). Strog tried to take a dip, as the river has good swimming potential. He got wet up to his undies before declaring it too cold to actually swim in yet, but it was great for “icing” knees and achy feet!

We took a long break by the river and restated our vows to each other. Of course, this day couldn’t go too perfectly: a ferocious bug dive-bombed me while I was trying to take a picture on the banks of the river. Subsequently, our phone was accidentally baptized in the Feather River. With a bit of water dripping out of the speaker holes, the screen went blue, then white, and the phone refused to restart a minute later. Luckily, that night, after a few hours of drying out time, the phone magically started back up with no apparent issues (we now call the phone Lazarus).

We also had a few nighttime scares that we now think were completely unfounded, but we can’t figure out what happened. The first one had Strog waking me up at 2:30am with these exact words (shaking me), “Meghan, there is something really big out there. It is probably a bear.” Oh, thanks. Let me just change my undies. There was not a single sound the rest of the night, and we’re not entirely sure if Strog was dreaming some of it. However, the next night, before either of us was asleep, we heard the same kind of sound Strog had described – a few very distinct branch cracking footsteps sounding like a heavy animal (I’m running out of undies at this point) followed by nothing. No approaching sounds, no receding sounds, just silence. Some think it might have been a deer, but we’re skeptical of that since there were no bush rustling or hoof-beat sounds. Let us know if you have a theory on this one!

And really, bears aren’t that scary. What was scary about the possibility of a bear lurking around is that we’ve been sleeping with the food in our tent rather than hung out on a tree. This is not on purpose. Really, we have every intention of hanging our food, and we’ve tried to on multiple occasions. But in order to hang the food, one needs a good branch in the right location at the right height to support the food and keep it safe from animals. And the forests we’ve been going through are sorely lacking in those kinds of branches. In fact, the night of the second branch-snapping footsteps, we tried to hang our food, finding a branch that was almost pretty good. We got the rope over the branch and the food bag attached. My words, “Honey, stand back a bit in case the branch breaks,” came just a second too late. Strog hoisted the food bag to a great cracking sound, and down came the branch that was going to hold our food! Thankfully it fell to the side of Strog with the only ill effects being his momentary terrified surprise. But you get the idea of the hanging issues. Thus, the food bag has been in our tent each night, under our feet… and, fingers crossed, out of the mouths of bears.

Bear scares aside, and save for a few interested bees (I’m not a fan of flying, stinging critters) and a billion interested mosquitoes (Strog’s least favorite flying critter), our fears and annoyances have stayed at a minimum. So I’ll return to a few descriptions of the more awesome parts of this past week.

We’ve had some incredible views as we’ve hiked – of Mt. Lassen and volcanic formations as we’ve hiked along ridges, of beautiful forests with creeks and springs running throughout them, of incredible sunsets camping on an open ridge, and of the clouds that at times felt so close we could touch them as they rushed by us. Beauty was everywhere, and we were warm and dry enough to thoroughly appreciate it.

We were also able to fully appreciate the trail crews who come through and clear the trail for hikers each year. You see, we’re pretty sure they have not yet made it through the section of trail that’s a 14 mi, 4500 ft climb from Belden to the crest. It was very overgrown with bushes and many downed trees and places where a shorter person had to really scramble to get up some of the trail and over some of the trees. Upon completing that climb, we camped with a couple thru-hikers who declared it the most difficult section of trail they’ve hiked so far. And they’ve hiked around 900 miles so far.

And this brings me to one of the things we appreciate most on this trail – other hikers. In the first few days of our hike, with storm after storm hitting us, we did not see a single other soul. This past week, however, we haven’t gone a day without meeting people, and we’ve had some truly awesome experiences. For instance, during our tough climb out of Belden we reached a section of trail that was so overgrown with bushes we had no idea which direction to go. It was at that moment, in the middle of all those bushes that someone called out, “The trail’s over here!” Another hiker, coming the opposite direction, hit the same dilemma and was waiting to see where we popped out. Perfect timing! We followed his voice, finally found him, and had a nice little conversation in the middle of the bushes before each going our way.

One of our best experiences with other hikers, though, took place our last night before heading into Chester. It was one of those experiences that seems to happen less and less as we age, simply because we are not in the appropriate situations as often… the kind of experience in which perfect strangers in very transient situations create strong bonds for a short time before everyone goes their own way, each allowing himself/herself to be truly changed by the experiences shared. Around a campfire, we shared stories. We shared food and drink. We shared laughter. We shared music. We shared listening. And we departed the next morning sharing hugs, more music, and hiker friendships leaving us wonderfully affected by each other.

Let’s talk numbers for a moment. Numbers tend to make things very clear, and this was clearly a crazy week. So here we go:

• 5 – the number of days we hiked on the trail (4 nights)
• 5 – the number of  thunderstorms we’ve been in
• 6 – the number of bouts of hail that ricocheted off our bodies during said thunderstorms
• 10 (or so) – the total number of hours of sunlight we saw in those 5 days
• 4 – the number of days we’ve been tucked in a warm motel bed waiting out the crazy weather

We began with a great send off by Strog’s Aunt Marthe and Uncle Skip who picked us up from the Greyhound station in Sacramento, took us to lunch at the wonderful Nevada City Classic Cafe, and dropped us at the trailhead in Sierra City after several pictures. The weather was perfect for hiking, and we began in high spirits up the beautiful, forested terrain. 

In general, the trail in this section winds up and down along the crest between open ridges and thick forests. Reaching the ridgeline, we were greeted with amazing views of the Sierra Buttes and the northern Sierra Nevada range.

An unexpected exposed section had us hiking until dark to reach an acceptable campsite (and even then, the site was only marginally acceptable if you don’t mind the possibility of being awoken by an ATV bearing down on your tent).

The next day (Wednesday) began sunny enough, but we kept a watchful eye on the gathering clouds. Our beautiful views soon disappeared in the clouds, and we heard our first clap of thunder just as we popped out to an open ridge. We immediately popped back into the trees and headed to lower ground to wait out the storm.

Let me pause for a moment to recount the weather predictions. We’d heard from locals and checked weather online before heading out. The weather showed a chance of thunderstorms through our second day on the trail (Wednesday), clearing up the next day. We decided to take that chance and headed out, after which we had no cell reception to check in with the weather. Okay, back to reality.

The storm chilled the temps and dumped hail, then rain, then more hail on us as we hovered in the forest. Thunder continued crackling sporadically in the distance. Just when we thought we were all clear to keep hiking, another loud clap of thunder resounded overhead. We hovered for a good couple hours waiting out the storm. Oh yeah, and about halfway through we discovered we were getting wet under our rain gear… turns out, not waterproof anymore. Finally, the skies began to clear a bit and we hiked on, enjoying the sunshine and figuring we had hit our afternoon thunderstorm as predicted.

 Spoiler alert – We were wrong. An hour after the storm broke another one came in, drenching us and sending us to lower ground once again. Hail, rain, the whole nine yards. Once we stopped hearing thunder we hiked on, but the rain didn’t let up until the next morning. We camped earlier than planned to get warm and dry and hopefully wait it out a bit.

We woke up to blue sky and sunshine and hung out all our gear and our spirits to dry.

 Good thing we jumped on this sunny opportunity, for it was short lived. With our dry gear barely back in our packs, the rain set in again – we almost pitched the tent immediately and called it quits for the day. But instead we donned our semi-waterproof rain gear and headed out.

The day brought on and off storms and, for some reason, only brought thunder when we reached exposed ridges. Our timing so far has been impeccable. Luckily for us, the evening was a bit drier, and we were able to set up our tent in between rainstorms.

 We awoke in a cloud (now Friday). It was eerie but super cool too. The cloud made the entire forest seem enchanted. We’re pretty sure we heard fairies laughing at us in the distance. The morning stayed at least a bit dry, though our views were completely obscured by cloud. The afternoon brought downpours as we scrambled over mud-flowing gullies and took respite at each grove of trees. The clincher for the day (and maybe the week) was our final emergence onto the Sierra Crest – a completely exposed ridgeline, shrouded in cloud (we literally could not see more than 10 feet around us in any direction), with the wind and rain pelting us from the sides. Bling pretty much sprinted through this section, certain she would be struck from above at any moment. Even Strog was breathless trying to keep up with her.

The next day (Saturday), with our nerves shot and another thunderstorm crackling overhead (more hail, more rain, more panic), we decided to make an unscheduled hitch to wherever any car would take us. We were hoping for Quincy, CA, but Bling was pretty willing to go anywhere but the trail. We tried for a hitch while we walked down the road toward Quincy. Seriously, we stopped every car we could and offered to pay those going the opposite direction to take us to town. Comically, Mother Nature dropped yet another thunderstorm on us while we waited for a hitch – sending us into the trees again. It’s even more difficult to flag down a car when you’re hunkered down in the forest next to the road and then bolt out of the trees like a madman anytime you hear an engine coming. People just don’t seem to find that image trustworthy.

Blessed be the lovely family in the pickup that finally stopped and let us ride in the bed of the truck down the hill to Quincy. We are now tucked in a warm motel room from which Bling refuses to emerge until the weather promises to behave.