Day 102-106: Castle Crags

July 15-19; Mile 1421-1529

Day 102

The day started with a short hike to Rock Creek, where a bridge spanned the gorge and a waterfall spilled out the other side. Annet and I ate breakfast at the bridge while discussing our plans for water that day. We were in a stretch reminiscent of Agua Dulce: wide open views and bright green brush with tiny off-trail springs for getting water. I enjoyed having a lighter pack, and so I endeavored to visit multiple off-trail sources that day instead of carrying extra water weight. Annet’s plan was better.

I followed the trail upward through a shaded section of forest before reaching the first diversion to Screwdriver Creek. One hiker was filtering water at the junction and warned that the climb was rough. I dropped my pack and headed down, down, down until reaching the tiny pool with wasps hovering all around. I got my water and got out of there.

I pushed onward past Peavine Creek a few miles later. The trail led past forest roads and up onto a ridge with excellent views toward Mt Shasta. Determined to make it to Clark Spring for lunch, I ended up doing 15 miles before taking a long break. Several hikers stopped in the shade: Annet, Sidetrack, Icky and the boys – who I hadn’t seen since Tahoe – and some new faces. We took turns going down to the icy spring and soaking our feet in the pool below. It was a wonderful break from the exposed slopes we’d been traversing all morning.

Annet convinced me to go another 10 miles to camp at Moosehead Creek, but by evening my feet were hurting. A mile before Moosehead I spotted a lonely tent spot beside the trail and dropped my pack in relief. When I checked my map I realized that I’d already done 25 miles, plus all the detours for water. I’d had enough.

I was certainly glad to be up at a higher elevation after dropping down into Burney. The heat was not as bad, though I’d spotted a plume of smoke on a distant ridge line that afternoon. It was just another reminder that the hot, dry conditions all around me could fuel another inferno. I needed to get through Northern California as quickly as possible.

Day 103

I woke up exhausted and depleted, and ended up sleeping in another hour and a half. Though I regretted my decision when the day began to heat up before 8am.

I filled up my water at Moosehead Creek where it crossed the trail, and hummingbirds and butterflies swooped past me as I sat filtering. The trail led past more road crossings and across exposed slopes with thick brush and overgrown bushes. I felt like I was being scraped and scratched all day.

I stopped for an early lunch at a shady spot beside the trail with a nice view toward Lassen Peak. My legs and feet were covered in dust and dirt, and everything I owned seemed filthy. But at least I was able to avoid going off trail for water thanks to a tiny trickle from a well-placed leaf.

Around 5pm I stopped for a long snack break and heard some snapping branches behind me. The noise was coming from somewhere to my left and upslope; I looked around but didn’t see anything. I continued to listen as an occasional cracking or snapping of wood broke the silence.

That’s definitely a bear, I thought. I put my pack back on and walked around the bend in the trail. There it was: a lanky, medium-sized bear with dark brown fur. I called and whistled and clacked my poles together. It just glanced at me and continued to saunter parallel to the trail, about 30ft upslope, unfazed by my rendition of Rhapsody in Blue.

I followed at a distance, watching as it paused to sniff in the undergrowth and delicately picked its way across the branches littering the forest floor. It finally crossed the trail and headed downslope, and I was able to hurry past. I checked the map and saw that the trail switchbacked into a gulley. I’d pass right by where the bear was headed. Great.

I hiked onward, making noise and watching for movement. As I got to my planned water source – a trickling creek full of wasps – I checked my bottle and saw that I had enough to make it another mile to the next water. I hurried on.

There was a tree down across the trail, and as I climbed over it there was the bear again, snuffling for grubs or roots. I called to it and whistled some more, and it moved off downslope. Once it was engrossed in ripping apart a downed tree, I hiked past and got out of there.

My left shin started hurting, but I wanted to go at least 20 miles, so I passed up a nice camp spot and continued at a glacial pace. When I reached the camp spot I immediately headed for the icy creek to soak my aching feet and shin, and I spent a while scrubbing the layers of dirt from my skin.

Two other hikers showed up as I was finishing my dinner, and one of them set up her tent right next to me. She was thinking of quitting, and we chatted through our tents about her options. I mentioned my bear encounter, and her friend called over to us that a deer was sulking near his tent. It came over near our tents for a while as night descended, and Katie called out “Is that you or an animal?”

“It’s just the deer, not a bear.” It continued to snap branches in its quest for our salt before disappearing into the gloom.

Day 104

I spent most of the day hiking through thick forest – a taste of what the section near Chester might have been like if it hadn’t burned. I hadn’t taken a full zero day since Sonora Pass, and the cumulative exhaustion was starting to get to me. When I stopped for lunch I decided to set up my tent and take a three hour break. It was the shoddiest job I’d ever done pitching my tent, but in minutes I was blissfully away from the flies and mosquitos.

Morale was at a low, and I knew that if I left the trail for the wedding while feeling this bad, there was a good chance I wouldn’t come back. And so I did something that I hadn’t done in months: I plugged in my earbuds and listened to music on my phone.

All I had access to was a strange collection of songs that had synced to my phone from stuff I bought on iTunes circa 2009-2012. There were pop artists I hadn’t listened to in years, soundtracks for Doctor Who and Lost, even some stuff I still liked. Listening to the eclectic mix alone in my tent, I noticed lines that resonated with what I was doing.

“And so it goes, one foot after the other…”

“…taking steps is easy, standing still is hard…”

“I feel aliiiiiive!”

I packed up, feeling rejuvenated and excited for what was to come. I was so close to Oregon, and I, too, felt alive. I played more music as I sailed through the shaded forest to Trough Creek. Without awe-inspiring views all day, the distraction helped to break up the monotony. I had a wonderful soak in the creek and then continued on to the last water source for the day – a beautiful bridge spanning a chasm where water churned twenty feet below. Thankfully there was a path 100ft up trail where the water passed a flatter section of topography.

I switchbacked up the forest slope toward my campsite, my pack full of water weight, and I finally got a nice view of Shasta as the sun set and the sky faded to violet. I set up my tent next to Captain Planet and Bear Hang, and then I figured out my resupply plan for the next day.

Day 105

It was another early morning to beat the heat and get to town to resupply. Instead of hitching to the town of Dunsmuir or Shasta, I decided to walk the two miles of road to a gas station in Castella. Somehow I had packed too many dinners in Burney, and I figured that I could make do with what I found there for the 40 miles between me and where I’d get off trail for my friend’s wedding.

After days of walking through thick forest, I took one of the many trail alternates – a forest road with beautiful views toward Mt Shasta. The only downside was that the different route had no water.

I descended back into forest and hiked alongside the company of a swarm of gnats. They loved to fly into my eyes, up my nose, or else hover incessantly next to my ears. It didn’t take long for the headnet to come out.

A section hiker passed me offering a choice of fresh fruit: pineapple, strawberries, grapes, bananas, watermelon. I gladly accepted a heaping handful of bright red strawberries, and not long after I paused to stare at the numbers spelled out on the ground beside me.

I stumbled out from the wilderness and into a jumble of roads and the highway. I walked along the shoulder of the frontage road, thankful for the shade cast by the trees above, alone but for two cars that passed in the hour it took to reach the little market.

After filling up my arms with chips, granola bars, and whatever semblance of nutrition that I could find, I paid and headed back out into the furnace. I circled the building looking for a shady spot to sit; there was a nice patch of shade next to the port-a-potty. I wasn’t quite that desperate.

Thankfully there were some trees behind the post office, and I sat sorting through my food and eating the mealy peaches from the gas station when I heard someone shout my name. I turned to see Tony making her way across the parking lot!

She was picking up a resupply box that Waffles had mailed himself before he got altitude sickness and had to get off trail. It was like opening a present on Christmas – she was never quite sure what food he had included. We stayed in the shade chatting about our feelings of loneliness: my regret about not taking a zero in Burney and leaving the folks I’d re-met there, her frustration at being stuck in Burney for an extra day while waiting for a package and seeing me and Stine both leave.

We ate lunch together and waited for the shadows to lengthen before hiking on the Flume trail through the Castle Crags state park to rejoin the PCT. The granite peaks towered above us as the trail stayed low, and then we climbed steeply up to the ridge. It was a luxury to reach camp before 5pm, and we both soaked downstream in the creek running past the campspot. After the hot day and sweaty climb, nothing felt better than sitting in a cold mountain stream.

Annet appeared as we were reclining in the water, and we called to her to join us. Despite her plans to go a few more miles, she didn’t need much convincing, and she too was soon cooling off in the little pool of water. The three of us ate dinner together and discussed our plans for the section ahead. Though we would split up the next day – with the two of them doing at least 25 miles while I tried not to overshoot my planned exit point – for that night I was glad to be among friends once again.

Day 106

I heard Tony packing up before 5, and she was gone by the time I started hiking through the morning gloom. There was a long climb ahead of us that morning: we’d soar back above 6000’, hopefully high enough to escape the suffocating heat.

The Castle Crags stretched into the sky, their jagged peaks blocking the sun for the moment. I raced upward through shaded slopes as the golden light seeped downward from the ridge. I passed Annet and kept pushing myself upward; the slopes were covered in thick brush and would offer little shade once the sun had crested the nearby peaks. Up, up, up into the alpine once more.

The day was filled with beautiful ridge-walking and views: wildflowers, bright green bushes, Lassen in the distance, Shasta looming just above, Castle Crags slowly fading into the background.

I ate lunch under a tree with a stellar view of Shasta and wept. Soon after, I took a short side trail down to a tiny trickle of water and patiently filled my bottles for the hot afternoon. I’d covered 19 miles and my feet were hurting, and so once more I brought out my music.

I continued on, transported above the pain by the soaring choruses and upbeat tempos. When I reached the spring right before camp, I soaked my feet in its icy pool for as long as I could stand.

Tomorrow I’d be leaving trail for a week. But for one last night I sat out beneath the cerulean sky and cooked my dinner. The light seeped out of the world around me: the shadows lengthened, the sky above Shasta faded to violet, the sky behind me flamed orange as the sun sank beneath the horizon.

I was left feeling that I’m not done yet. I want to come back after the wedding. I want to finish California and see Oregon and walk home to Washington.