7/26 – 8/14
-> Chester -> Ashland ->
I made it out of Chester without getting norovirus, but the Park Fire was shaping up to be a much bigger concern than a stomach sickness. It was not near enough to trail to be a threat to my safety, but it was continuing to grow with 0% containment and the smoke was unrelenting.
The Park Fire has since become the 4th largest wildfire in California history.
I decided to continue on trail despite the smoke. If I waited, it would probably worsen and I was very hesitant to skip ahead even if it meant a few days of awful air quality.
The smoke billowed towards me from the south but I pressed on and ignored the worry as long as my lungs and throat were unbothered.
I encountered a few other hikers that day and didn’t know at the time that they would be the last people I’d see on trail for three days.
Necktie, who I had recently met and hitched into Chester with, had come urgently towards me with an N95 mask and insisted that he needed to go back to Chester because the smoke was too much. I wished I had brought a mask too. I was talking to my mom on the phone when he came up to me and I had to reassure her that I would be fine.
I later heard that Necktie quit trail and got a dirt bike to travel alternative trails instead. It is becoming more common for people to quit at random and shift plans even after 1300+ miles of effort. Another common change of plans is for hikers to jump to the coast and hike part of the Oregon Coast Trail instead of the Oregon section of the PCT.
The bad air quality was unfortunate, but the smoke was otherwise interesting and eerily beautiful. It cast a warm hue on everything and made the sun a deep pink. It was serene watching ash fall slowly into the north fork of the Feather River while I filtered my water.
15 miles in from Chester, I received a text from Michele that the PCTA had announced a new closure:
“The PCT is closed due to evacuation orders and evacuation warnings from Bucks Summit (mile 1270) to Old Station/CA 44 (mile 1379). The Park Fire is expanding rapidly, and trail users are encouraged to avoid the incident and the closure boundaries.”
This was the section of the trail I was already on. Since I was around mile 1350, I kept moving north away from the fire.
This closure had cut off the stream of hikers that would otherwise be behind me, so I had Lassen Volcanic National Park to myself. The park had been burned in a previous year, but I thought it was interesting to see it shrouded in smoke as if the fire were fresh. Of all the parks and forests I’ve been through on trail, a volcanic park seemed the most fitting for a smoky visit.
The burn sections were large but I did my best to set up camp where the trees were least likely to fall.
While walking through Lassen, I visited Boiling Springs Lake and Terminal Geyser where the smell of sulfur mixed with the hazy smoke.
Despite the apocalyptic views, there was life in the dead forests. There were shrieking owls, a grunting buck, bats in the evening, and bird songs in the mornings.
I liked to pretend that the weather was just overcast and I was grateful that the smoke cut the sun’s heat.
For the first time in weeks, it seemed a bit too cold to go for a swim because there was no direct sunlight to warm me afterwards.
Now that I look back at it, I don’t think I ever got a full view of Mount Lassen.
The day after I walked through Lassen, the sky started to clear but the smoke settled low so the air quality rating was the worst it could be – 500.
I made it Old Station which was where the trail closure ended. I thought I would find more hikers there as they skipped from the beginning of the closure but I learned from the gas station attendant that they were skipping all the way to Burney or Shasta.
I made the quick detour to check out Subway Cave while I was on my way out of Old Station and it did not disappoint.
I think Lassen National Park might have closed by this point because the parking lot to the cave was locked. The temperature in the cave was cold and still enough for the condensation in my breath to hang in the air.
There were no other tourists there which felt like a unique opportunity. I spent 30 minutes in the cave to cool down and relax. I sat in the offshoot cave (Lucifer’s Cul De Sac) and played a Lizzy McAlpine song on my phone to hear it fill the dead space. I wandered around collecting water drops from the stalactites and admired the solidified lava floor.
A perfect break from a warm, smoky day.
Unless I wanted to share a pond with cattle (nope), it would be another 18 miles to fresh water. I drank from the spigot at the cave until I felt nearly sick and then carried 4 liters out.
I counted the hikers in the register and there had been an average of 22 per day the week before. That day, there had only been 2 names in the register.
This didn’t surprise me because I had already gotten used to their distinct tread marks on the trail. Neither of them had the usual Altra shoe pattern and their prints were mixed with far more animal prints than usual – raccoons, quails, and deer. I followed those two hikers’ tracks for dozens of miles without ever catching them. Their tread reassured me that I was still on trail.
Since I entered the Cascade range, volcanic rock has been common and this field was scattered with it. The rocky trail tried to roll my ankles and was not kind to my shoes, but it was new and interesting nonetheless.
The towns near trail came more frequently in northern California than I was used to. I love stopping in towns to have a meal and see what life is like but I needed to start skipping them when they weren’t necessary. If I go into each town, I’d never make it out of California!
Instead of hitchhiking into the town of Burney, I stopped at Burney Guest Ranch right off the trail. They let hikers pay a small fee to do laundry and take a shower, and they had a great little store for topping off my food supply. I was able to spend an afternoon there and do all my chores without all the distractions in town. My only regret was not using their swimming pool!
By this point, I had finally hiked out of the thick smoke and I enjoyed my first clear evening in a few days. Ahead was an 80 mile section to the 5 freeway where I could resupply in Dunsmuir, Castella, or the town of Shasta.
I caught up with Dylan at Burney Falls and we had one of the “why are you here too?” conversations before we compared notes on hiking through the abandoned smoky section. Dylan was the first new hiker I met when I got back on trail following Jaden’s wedding.
We hiked the next two days together. There is no pattern to when I hike alone or with others, but I hadn’t walked alongside somebody since the day with Momentum before Lake Tahoe.
We hiked until 11 pm and cowboy camped in celebration of being able to see the stars again. The Milky Way was bright with occassional shooting stars and we woke to a clear view of Mount Shasta for the first time.
Just one day’s difference and the smoke was a thing of the past.
It was fun trying new berries along this section and I got excited whenever they popped up. I definitely bit into some bitter inedible berries out of curiosity. The edible new additions were gooseberries, elderberries, thimbleberries, and serviceberries.
This spot was beautiful and I arrived early enough to relax and watch as the sun died out. Dylan and a hiker named Jimmy also camped here and we learned quickly that it was a deer highway. I had to sit up a couple times and shoo them away from my tent.
Dylan and I only got 16 miles done during our 2nd day hiking together. It was a slow day and I was not feeling well either. I decided to peel out the next morning and push for a 30+ mile day. It’s hard to do big days when you take breaks with others, so I went out alone.
After our slow day, I got moving and committed to finishing 15 miles before sitting down. Once the 15 miles were done, I gave myself a substantial break to eat and soak my feet in Butcherknife Creek.
I found plenty of bats in a trailhead bathroom and my first salamander!
Some trail angel had deposited ammo boxes at different dirt road crossings along this entire section. It was exciting to stumble on them even though I knew each box had the same content as the last. I popped each one open and grabbed a snack when they were available.
I made it 33 miles before bed which was a new personal record for me!
The PCT in northern California seems to meander in every direction except north. Just when you feel close to Oregon, it detours south and west to drag California out a little longer. Mount Shasta was always looking over my shoulder.
I only wanted to make a quick stop in Dunsmuir, the town south of Shasta, but I found out they were having an event called Brewfest the next day. It is their biggest event of the year with beer tasting and live music and I chose not to rush right past an interesting off-trail event. I bought my $50 ticket for the full experience and arranged to stay for free at a church in town.
I was so grateful to have a free place to stay.
They left me with a set of keys and free range to relax and sleep in the basement. I caught up with two other hikers, Rainbow and Arrow, who I met in the middle of the high Sierra. They are a mother and son duo hiking together but Rainbow broke her toe at a lake and has to get off trail now:/ I am so impressed that she made it this far (she’s one of the older hikers I’ve met) and she might continue the trail if she can recover in time.
All was well until 10 pm when my stomach started to audibly churn and felt like it was tied in knots. Oh no.
I had myself a sweaty night of vomiting in the upstairs bathroom so I wouldn’t disturb Rainbow and Arrow’s sleep. Did I get food poisoning from a restaurant called Yaks?
There was no way I was having even a sip of beer the next day. I felt awful and depleted. Dylan showed up to the church the day after me so I offered him my Brewfest ticket. The only time I left the basement that day was to walk over to Brewfest and let Dylan in with my QR code. I stopped by the river on the way back to dunk my head in the ice cold water.
It was unfortunate that I spent money on a ticket, but I would have been sick out in the woods if I weren’t waiting in town for that event. At least I had a roof and a bathroom.
It was really challenging to deal with my food resupply or even to look at what I had bought. It all looked nasty. I wouldn’t make it far, but I wanted to get back on trail the next day.
As I was leaving the next day, I saw Clare and Lachy (Sickness and One Shot) in town! I was hoping to catch up to them and some other friends but thought the food poisoning had set me back. Instead, they had taken two zeros because they were all sick too.
I quickly realized I must have had the infamous norovirus that springs up along trail, not food poisoning. Noro wasn’t on my mind since I had hardly seen any other hikers in a week. I suspect those ammo boxes of food are to blame for spreading the sickness because it can linger on surfaces for up to two weeks. I touched every door knob in that church and left on a Sunday morning. I hope I didn’t get them all sick!
I hung out with Clare and Lachy at a cafe and we got a ride back to trail together. It was good to see them because we had hiked around eachother in southern California and could talk about all of the same people.
Of course the trail out of Dunsmuir was steep. I pushed myself through it and accepted the discomfort in my stomach that persisted no matter what I did. I had no appetite but had to drink nearly 5 liters of water to stay hydrated, which made me feel even worse. I hadn’t showered since Burney Guest Ranch and desperately wanted to take a swim, but I didn’t want to contaminate the only water source that everybody uses.
I did get some good news that helped to counteract the bummer of sickness – a future fire closure in Etna was probably going to be lifted!
I camped on an outcropped rock and met two new hikers – Sweazy and Slow Camp. They are a couple that met their first day on trail and Sweazy is planning to move to Mexico City after trail to be with Slow Camp. It’s pretty common for people to couple up on trail but less common to hear of permanent after-trail plans.
I felt a little better with each passing day and my appetite started to come back. I barely took pictures for a couple days because I wasn’t feeling the beauty around me but I was so excited that I got to see native pitcher plants in California.
One night I had the most incredible spot down off the trail with a view of Shasta. I was able to facetime my dad and some of my family. The next day, I had a pep in my step again, and the residual norovirus ache was finally gone.
I couldn’t believe how beautiful this part of trail was. I had decided that the “NorCal Blues” are a myth because I had made it this far and the trail was still full of variety and stunning landscapes.
Its a routine to lay in my tent at night and review my pictures from the day. I’m often surprised by the beauty of the pictures even though I saw each scene in full with my own eyes.
I started to see more hikers again a few days out of Dunsmuir. Stumbling on a group of 4 people having lunch together seemed like such a crowd!
I was quickly approaching a section of trail after the town of Etna that was closed from the Shelly Fire this year. It could potentially open up again, but I read that the road walk around the closure was a worthy detour. It would require 60 miles of walking if I wanted to make it all the way to Seiad Valley (the last stop in California!).
When I got to Etna summit, I tried to catch a hitch with a German guy named Kodak. After an hour, we were still unsuccessful. This was one of those locations where most hikers scheduled rides ahead of time because there was no cell service and very few cars passing by. I prefer hitchhiking with strangers over scheduling rides with trail angels, but not every part of trail is frequented enough to hitchhike. Lesson learned.
Eventually a trail angel named Father Time drove up to the summit and offered to take us the ten miles down to the town of Etna for ten bucks. He had a few missing teeth, no job, gave us beers to drink in the car, and was unconcerned about staying on the right side of the road. He looked back at us as much as he looked at the road and I tried to quickly laugh and acknowledge his stories so he would look forward again. Survived.
The town of Etna was great. It had good restaurants, a fantastic bakery, a gear store, and a public park with a designated camping area for hikers!
I got to catch up with Nick at Dotty’s and made sure to try their one liter milkshake while I was there. Nick was in my first trail family and I hadn’t seen him since Wrightwood, about 4 months ago! We resupplied at Dollar General and camped at the park. He’s averaging 100 miles per three days, so he had a tight schedule and left in the morning. It was so good to catch up.
We still didn’t know if the trail after Etna would open, so I made plans with One Shot, Sickness, and Pony Boy to road walk into Seiad Valley.
The only reason to road walk is to have a continuous foot path even when you can’t hike the official PCT. Some, understandably, don’t care to waste this time off trail but I wanted to at least complete California knowing that I had a traceable path from end to end. I had made it that far already!
Since we decided to connect our path, we had to get a ride back up to Etna summit and then walk the 10 miles back down to town. My last town chore was to call Garmin’s support line because my GPS device was not working correctly. Thankfully, they decided to replace it for me and I had it shipped ahead to the Ashland post office!
We packed up at the park and went to town for breakfast. The park had been a great place to stay until some locals appeared at 3 am and drunkenly ran around the camp. I slept through it but they pestered Dylan who was sleeping on a table and then one guy tripped on Clare and Lachy’s tent, snapping a pole. Lachy woke up and thought a kangaroo had hit their tent before remembering he was in the United States.
After one last stop at the bakery and Lachy’s hardware store tent repair, we set out on our road walk which we approached with a sense of excitement that we hoped would override boredom. It’s fun taking side routes and paths that might offer a unique experience, even if they aren’t official PCT miles. The second half of this route would wind along a river and was rumored to have lots of blackberries which sounded really nice.
The first part of the road walk along highway 3 was less enchanting. The road kill tally amounted to 5 deer, a raccoon, a cat, a squirrel, a mouse, and a rabbit.
Once we made it off the main highway, I loved walking along grain fields and through tiny towns with names like Mugginsville. Along the way, a couple of locals popped out of their screen doors to offer water or a “safe travels my friend” and a young boy walked to the edge of his property to plop down a goat before us. He had bought the goats with his own money for a 4-H project. Two goats for $400.
We admired different varieties of cows and stopped for a few minutes to talk to some ranchers as they practiced wrangling a steel framed cow with a lasso. We made it to Scott River in the evening, where we skipped rocks and filtered more water.
After some miles in the dark, we slept at a no-camping day use area along the river. If we don’t set up tents, is it really camping?
The towns along the road walk were so small that they didn’t have any form of a store or gas station.
We tried any fruit that hung over the road, but they were often unripe or simply not good. The wild grapes were sour, but I loved how they trailed up the pine trees.
The night before getting to Seiad valley, we camped in an abandoned campground. The tables were covered in moss, the bathrooms were inhabited by wasp nests and bats, and the camping spots had disappeared under wild grasses and low hanging branches.
It was Lachy’s birthday the next morning, so we made sure to get out of camp early and celebrated with breakfast at the Seiad cafe. I spotted a black bear down by the Klamath river, and then we spent the middle of the day in Seiad valley.
There was an event coming up in a few days called PCT days, which was a vendor fair for gear companies related to the PCT. It is common for most hikers to travel from wherever they are on trail to spend a couple of nights together at PCT days.
I hadn’t arranged a way of getting there yet, but I wanted to see old trail friends, so I posted on Facebook to look for options. I got an offer for a ride up to Cascade Locks, but she was leaving a day earlier than I was expecting.
I accepted the ride offer but needed to cover 59 miles by the morning of the 14th. It was already 3 pm on the 12th, so I got moving and was confident I could make it work.
Lots of uphill to get out of Seiad valley!
To reach my goal, I was packed up and moving by 6 am which was early for me. I’m not used to seeing sunrise or passing by hikers still in their tents.
The air was cold, and I was the first to push through the wispy morning webs that crisscrossed the trail.
After months and months, it was finally my last day in California.
OREGON
I made it to Oregon! The biggest relief was that I was able to hike all of California. The Park fire and other inconveniences have disrupted most mid and late season hikers but I got to package up at least one state without disruption.
Oregon has some issues, and Washington is burdened with huge fire closures at the moment, but at least I have one (and the largest) state under my belt.
The shift between states was tangible but I think it was mostly the cooler weather that made it feel different.
I hiked 32.6 miles and felt confident I could make it to trail days at that pace. I wrote in my notes that it was the easiest 30 mile day ever, and I have a feeling Oregon will have many more easy long days to come.
I slept at a convenient shelter off trail but there were loud owls, something meowing, and rats chewing plastic throughout the night which kept me from sleeping deeply. I would rather wake up to a bear at my feet than a rat. The small animals don’t scare off and will relentlessly try to chew through your gear, which makes me paranoid. They’ve already put a hole in my tent and two in my pack.
I had only 10 more miles to get to the 5 freeway and had arranged a ride from there to Medford at 9:30 am the next morning.
I made it to my pickup spot right on time and drove with Daryl who said “into town, windows down,” because hikers normally smell bad. I was an audience member more than a participant in the conversation. He told me of his 10+ year effort to get his creative writing degree (graduated this year!), how he lived in Glenwood and worked some Aspen ski slopes in the 80s, and of course how his neighbor was an actress from Bay Watch.
I got to Medford in time to catch my ride to northern Oregon and was excited to enjoy trail days and see all of the familiar faces there!
Aside from getting norovirus, northern California was the easiest rhythm I have found on trail. I loved the variety and was surprised by how much it had to offer. It was both lush and burnt, and full of friends and beautiful days alone. I haven’t disliked a part of trail yet so I don’t worry about what’s ahead, and I’m excited to see what Oregon has to offer!