Day 101: July 25: 3.7 miles
Today was such a nero it may as well have been a zero. After a quick and cruisy walk to the road, we had to walk a little further to the interstate ramp to get a ride. Thankfully it didn’t take long for Nick to pull over with a truck packed to the max with gear for a trip to the Sierra. There was just enough room in the back of the bed for me to squeeze in. Did you even hike the PCT if you didn’t ride in the bed of a truck??
We got dropped off at a great breakfast place and even checked out the farmers market. No hydroponics, I see an untapped market here! We met Brian, who recognized us immediately as PCT hikers and offered a ride back to trail tomorrow. He is a talented woodworker and makes beautiful creations. If you are interested in checking out his work, his business is Mother Tree Makery. With Christmas right around the corner maybe you’ll find a beautiful unique handcrafted gift!
Ashland is an amazing town. They love hikers and are very welcoming. Plus they have great food. They are mostly known for their summer long Shakespeare Festival, drawing in crowds from around the world. If I had another day in town I would’ve happily watched a show! There’s just not enough time in a day, especially a town day unfortunately.
We’re staying with Craig, a hiker and biker (sound familiar??) who loves to host hikers. He has a lovely home and is just an overall kind person. We shared intriguing conversations, including lots of hiking and biking tales.
Day 102: July 26; 13.7 miles
After over 100 days of walking together, I made the difficult choice to depart ways with David. Spending so much time together in such a stressful and exhausting environment can cause a lot of tension and conflict that can be difficult to resolve. In this case it was impossible. The best solution was to go our separate ways.
In an effort to create distance I decided, along with my parent’s advice and concern, that skipping ahead 56 miles was the best way to ensure separation. After the events that unfolded in Ashland, I no longer felt safe around him. To me, it was clear that this partnership was done and there was no need to maintain contact. I was resolute that I would do my best to keep my location private- no posting on social media, no updates via the blog, and no signing trail registers. I know I scoff at skipping ahead, but this strategy was necessary. I have every intention of going back to Ashland and completing those miles when time allows. I have to say, the men of Ashland helped make this transition seamless and as stress free as possible. Brian, Craig, and Uber driver James offered comfort and support during a very difficult and emotional time for me. I cannot sing their praises enough.
I arrived to the trailhead at Fish Lake Resort around 3pm. I hadn’t looked at this section of the map so I had no clue what to expect. Luckily for me, it was cruisy and mostly good terrain. A few blowdowns here and there, but I managed just fine. As the events of the past day repeated in my head, I prayed that this strategy would be enough to prevent our paths from crossing. It feels weird saying “I” instead of “we”, but I felt confident about my abilities. After all, I set out on this trip with the intention of hiking solo, now it was time to finally do just that.
When I got to a water source I noticed something was off with my filter. Seeing as it is fairly new, I’m used to filtering taking a minute per liter at most. Just yesterday it was flowing like a champ. This filter was barely flowing, despite my every effort to squeeze the bag to force a harder flow. Taking 5 minutes to filter a liter, I grew concerned about the effectiveness of the device. I couldn’t even be certain it was mine. I shook and banged it, things you’re supposed to do to get it to flow better. No dice. Regardless of how it happened, I need a new filter. Thankfully I have amazing parents who were able to get one shipped to Shelter Cove ASAP, just a few days away. Looks like I’ll be getting in a good arm workout until then.
I arrived at camp before 8pm, tired from the whole ordeal of the day. I ran into some familiar faces and some new ones. I’m hoping to see more people the next few days even as just a distraction.
Day 103: July 27; 29.4 miles
I slept like a rock. The tent always does it for me. I also woke up with a raging headache. Not sure if it was a subdural hematoma from knocking my noggin or just a good old fashioned stress headache, but either way it made breaking down camp rough. Thankfully some ibuprofen did the job.
The day had its challenges, mainly some pretty frustrating blowdowns, but it went quickly. There were more burn zones which I think I’m just going to have to get used to.
Uber driver James explained a lot of why the forest fires have been so bad in recent years. He said that though the uptick in protected lands is positive, there has not been maintenance of the protected forests. They have become so overgrown with trees that if a fire breaks out, it’s too thick for firefighters to even attempt to enter to put it out. Instead they have to just let them burn. Apparently there are 40% more trees now than there were when Lewis and Clark came through. He knows all this because his brother is a biologist and does consultant work for the Forest Service. He’s frustrated because of the politics of it all. Without getting too into it, essentially politicians campaign on the premise that logging is bad and more protected spaces is good. James’ brother believes that there can be a happy medium. Logging to control the tree density to mitigate fires while also keeping the land protected… from wildfires. Walking today I did take notice of just how dense these forests (that remain intact) really are. You can only see a few feet in and any space that is even a little open is already covered with multiple saplings. Very interesting and definitely food for thought.
I got into camp at a reasonable hour thanks to a very cruisy landscape. I didn’t see one NOBO hiker, but did see a few SOBOs. I know the NOBOs are out here though, the trail register for entering Crater Lake National Park boundary had 27 names for today! And a few I even recognized. I’ll hopefully see them in person tomorrow at Crater lake. In order to keep my location private, I have stopped signing trail logs, posting on social media, or publishing this very blog. I already made the difficult decision that I will not be attending Trail Days, a mini PCT hiker reunion that just seems like a general good time. By the time you read this, I’ll very likely be off trail and home. It’s unfortunate, but worth it to ensure safety and continuation on trail.
I’m really looking forward to seeing Crater Lake. It’s one of the few National Parks I’ve never been to. I’m sure I’ll be blown away by it, after all it’s the deepest lake in the United States!
Day 104: July 28; 25.7 miles (ish*)
It was just about midnight when I was startled out of a dead sleep by something clumsily crashing through the bushes. Fearing the worst, with a pounding heart, I calmed myself down and realized I recognized this distinct pattern of stumbling – and for once it wasn’t me causing the ruckus! Positive it was a deer in desperate search of urine (or maybe socks?), I had to make sure to settle the dark thoughts that maybe I lucked into meeting the world’s loudest mountain lion. Do they even have mountain lions out here?? I was about to find out.
I searched for my headlamp, miraculously finding it within seconds. I shined it out and instantly found two eyes glowing back. No matter the culprit, it’s always unnerving. Startled by my boldness, the animal slowly retreated, eying me the whole time. Its neck movements clearly giving the mystery away – it was indeed a urine thirsty deer. Knowing the jig was up, it casually strolled away but the need for pee was too strong and closer it came. Not tonight! I wrestled vigorously around in my tent, yelling at it to back off. Realizing that this crazy lemon wasn’t worth the squeeze, it bounded back into the woods. I grabbed my socks from outside and safely stowed them away in the tent. Uninterested in its comings and goings, I put in earplugs and drifted off into a peaceful sleep.
I only had a short walk to Mazama Village, an off trail area within Crater Lake National Park that houses a restaurant and general store. I shipped a resupply package there, but with skipping up trail I didn’t really need it. I still had plenty of food. But I decided to grab it anyway… there were a few items in there I wanted.
So at 8:00am I arrived and found a whole crew of hikers. They had stayed at the campground overnight and were eager to explore the park. I ran into Pics and Car Fax, both of whom I haven’t seen in well over a month. It was nice to catch up with Pics and I was so happy to see that Car Fax was in much better health than the last time I saw him. I met new faces, but it was a short meeting. They were getting ready to catch a shuttle to the lodge, effectively cutting 5 miles off the trail. It sounded tempting, but by taking the shuttle my first view of the lake would be by vehicle. I wanted the pure experience of seeing it by foot. I have never seen Crater Lake and wanted to savor the experience.
I stayed at the general store until 11am, effectively giving away well over half my resupply package. It was way later than I had intended, but I needed to charge devices and use the wifi. I had also wanted to get some food at the restaurant, but they of course didn’t open for lunch until 11am, and I had already wasted enough time.
So off I went, with a pack loaded with entirely too much food and 3.5 liters of water for a suspected long dry section with unclear reliability of water caches. This pack was heavy. And of course, the whole trail to Crater Lake was aggressively steep. I was starting to regret not taking the shuttle.
On my way to the rim I came across a bear. Still several yards away, I saw it before it even knew I existed. Right on the trail, I knew I had to scare it off. Which I effectively did by banging my poles together. Like a cartoon character, its hind quarters outpaced the front and it tore into the woods. Curious about what caused all the ruckus, it gained its composure and swung a left… right where I was standing. Oh great. I didn’t see any cubs, so I wasn’t worried about mama bear behavior, but did notice this guy looked hungry. Close to being emaciated, I was worried he was staring at me deciding how tasty of a snack I would make. I started yelling and thrashing about – if it worked for a deer surely it’ll work on a bear. It certainly did not… it remained fixated on me. I clearly wasn’t too scared, I snapped a quick shot before I scuttled calmly by it, wishing it a good day. There was no charging or following, so I felt safe moving on.
Eventually I made it to the rim… the lack of trees indicating that something massive was coming. Sure enough, I walked right up to the edge of Crater Lake. It was a beautiful blue behemoth.
The rim trail around the lake is not official PCT, but mostly everyone takes it for the 11 mile views of the lake. I wasn’t anticipating the steep ups and downs the trail threw my way (I put my hiking poles away to avoid hitting the tourists) and grew tired, the view only providing so much motivation. But eventually it mellowed out so I could really take it all in. It was the first time in hit me… I walked (mostly) all the way here from Mexico. I had full body chills letting that thought sink in.
After rejoining the PCT it was nothing but smooth sailing to where I eventually ended the day. Because it was such a choppy day, the mileage is only my best guess. The rim trail cut off some mileage (the official PCT mileage would have been 29 miles), but not a ton. My feet are very tired so I’m happy to give them a bit of a break.
Day 105: July 29; 33.1 miles
The shortening of the days is definitely becoming more and more noticeable. Especially in the morning. I am l relying on my tent light and head lamp more, particularly trying to get out of camp earlier in an effort to get in more miles. It was a quiet night, not one deer came in search of pee.
I was able to make it to the water cache in record time. I was not at all surprised to see about 10 tents littered throughout the area. I’m glad I camped where I did. I think I prefer camping alone.
I haven’t hiked with so many people either! I did a few miles with Lamb, who along with her wife Brisket were the first to make bootpack on Forester after the late May storm. It was a pretty harrowing story. Even with mountaineering experience she said the trek was still pretty dodgy. I was grateful for their bravery!
The rest of the day I hiked with Chew Toy (Abby) and Idaho (Kate). They’ve been hiking together since South Lake Tahoe. I really enjoyed getting to know them and seems we all have similar goals with how to get to the end of the trail. We shared stories, good and bad, and talked about every subject under the sun. Maybe I’ll stick with them!
Hiking with new people definitely made the miles fly by. The easy terrain (though still many blowdowns) was also extremely beneficial towards getting through my longest day yet. I didn’t set out with the intention of a 33 miler, but poor water access forced me to. Not wanting to carry a gallon of water for a dry camp, I let good conversation guide my tired feet to a water cache where I stopped to camp. Chew Toy and Idaho decided to move on, but I’ll definitely catch up with them tomorrow. It seems to be a pretty popular spot with already 10 people here. I wouldn’t be surprised if another 10 show up sometime soon. I can’t believe how many people are on trail up here!
I’m only ~30 miles from Shelter Cove Resort, my next “town” stop. It’s a little off trail but I’m excited to get there and check it out. The terrain looks even more forgiving and with only 30 miles, it’ll feel like a nero, ha!
Day 106: July 30; 30 miles
It was an early start with a full moon to light camp breakdown and the start of the hike. While absolutely beautiful, it didn’t foster good sleep when shining directly into the tent. But it definitely wasn’t the worst nights sleep.
I felt great after yesterday’s big push. Today didn’t look dreadful by any means, so I was ready to take it on and get to Shelter Cove. I was going to skip it because I have plenty of food and it’s off trail, but I needed to make the stop to pick up the filter my parents so kindly sent my way. Thankfully I haven’t had to struggle too much with the filter because the caches have been so great. But they don’t last forever so I’m thrilled to have a filter that will actually work and I know is effective.
The day was cruisy, a couple climbs but nothing to even give a second thought to. I left before everyone else and didn’t see anyone until the afternoon, where I ran into Callie. We talked a bit before I drifted off, eager to get to Shelter Cove early – well aware that everyone else was going there too.
Prior to running into Callie, I received a text message from David stating that he found out I was ahead. Apparently he had seen that I picked up my package at Crater Lake two days prior. My stomach dropped – I did not expect my location to be found out so quickly, and by a means I didn’t anticipate. In fact, when I signed that I received my package, I thought about asking them to not tell anyone I was there. But I figured that the logbook was secure enough that they wouldn’t allow hikers to sift through it. I’m not sure if he was granted access to the entire book or simply asked if I was there, either way my location was compromised and I was furious as well as scared of what the outcome may be. However, with 56 miles between us and me pulling 30 mile per day averages, I wasn’t overly concerned that he would catch up.
I wasn’t surprised to not see many people today – most who camped at the cache decided to take a shortcut that cut off 8 miles of trail. I knew if I wanted to beat them, I had to hustle. So I did just that and completed 30 miles by 4:30pm, a new record. I did beat most of them (it’s not a competition, but I wanted to shower and get a good camp spot) and got in a big dinner that didn’t seem to cure my hunger. I decided to forgo laundry (I’m gross, I know) and wait until I get to Sisters to complete that chore. Though I did scrub off about 3lbs of dirt in the shower.
I can’t even count how many people are camping here tonight… probably well over 20. I’m not a huge fan of group camping and even considered hiking out to camp a few miles away, but already 7:30pm I’ve settled on staying here, after all they have breakfast!
Day 107: July 31; 28.7 miles + 1.5 bonus miles
The moon was once again the bane of my sleep. It seems to always find the exact spot to shine directly into my tent. In fact, in a sea of tents, mine was the only one fully illuminated by the seemingly never waning (or is it waxing?) moon. Other than a neighboring RV generator, it was dead quiet by 9pm. The joys of being surrounded by tired PCT hikers.
I got up early to take advantage of charging and wifi to attempt to come up with a plan for Sisters/Bend. McKenzie Pass seems to be a tough hitch spot, especially now due to wildfire smoke. There’s not much I can do planning wise to arrange a ride, I don’t feel comfortable posting in any trail angel facebook groups at the moment. But after talking with a few people who are getting rides into town from there, I know I will be able to coordinate my timing with theirs to join. They all extended invitations, so I should be okay!
My intention was to get breakfast at the restaurant before heading out. I was disappointed to learn that they wouldn’t open until 8am, but the general store would be open at 7am. I resigned to wait to pick up something small for breakfast before heading out. As 7am came and went, there was a corral of very punctual hikers waiting for the store to open. As the worker opened the door, there was a mad rush to get in, only to be shooed away. Despite the posted hours, they weren’t opening until 8am. Disappointed with how mountain time works out here and annoyed with how much time I already wasted, I grabbed half a jar of peanut butter from the hiker box for breakfast and left quickly with Callie.
During this debacle I received another text from David alerting me that he knew I was no longer signing trail registers, and would be arriving at Shelter Cove that night. The text itself felt taunting, I was extremely unnerved. It appeared he was speeding up to close the gap – this meant he was hiking over 45 miles per day in what I felt was an effort to catch up to me. Personally, I did not find these miles per day to be reasonable. Given that the increase happened immediately after he learned I was ahead, I interpreted it as an attempt to close the gap. I felt like I was being hunted down, and I was quite frankly terrified . I did not have time to dilly dally – I had to keep moving or get off trail. So I kept it moving.
I spent all morning and most of the afternoon with Callie, I learned a lot and we laughed a bunch. She is one of the most interesting people I’ve had the pleasure to meet out here and learned so much with our chats. We eventually stumbled across some excellent trail magic provided by Extra and Taylor. Snacks, hot dogs, sausage, eggs, pancakes, and drinks, everything a hiker could want. With a chronically upset stomach, I settled for a hot dog and Sprite. When I took the first sip I almost spit it out – this Sprite sure tastes a lot like a beer! Well, a quick label check revealed it indeed was a beer. Apparently Rolling Rock and Sprite have the same color green can. Well darn, I definitely didn’t want this beer. I told my tale of woe to Pitch Perfect, Snow, Lamb, and Brisket. Snow quickly volunteered to drink the rest of my error, as he was just about to get another. I was happy to trade it in for a Coke.
Already 3:45pm with 10 miles to go and a very unhappy stomach, I rolled out alone to finish the day. Though I started out with Car Fax and Lucky Charm (these trail names are getting out of hand) I knew they’d get ahead of me. And just like that, they did. I was happy to have a couple hours to myself, to really think about a lot of what has been happening recently. It’s been great having people around and making new connections, but being alone certainly has its perks too.
I got into camp a little after 7pm. It’s a lovely lake with enough spots that people can spread out. After the last 2 nights of being surrounded by people, I’m happy to have some solitude again.
Day 108 August 1; 17.5 miles
I started the day very early to get in potentially 34 miles in an effort to get into town early tomorrow. With a cruisy path, I was making great time. I took break at the halfway point at a junction and called my parents. We discussed possible plans to get off trail considering I feel as if I’m being chased down. Ultimately I decided to continue … it’d be impossible and unreasonable for someone to make up that distance. As I left I received a text from another hiker stating that he indeed did make it to Shelter Cove yesterday. Shortly after that, David sent another text that he knew I was there yesterday morning, was sad he didn’t run into me, he that he hoped see me soon. My blood turned cold. It’s hard to describe without sounding dramatic, but for someone who you clearly told you are not interested in seeing again to make such an attempt to catch up to you by pulling 45+ mile days at a minimum, it’s terrifying. I instantly turned at the junction and prepared to execute the plan. I was getting off trail.
I got a ride with two hikers (I am keeping anonymous) who I met on trail. Their friend lives in Bend and was picking them up. She is a total angel. After a brief synopsis she insisted I stay at her house. Because I was so visibly shaken they took it upon themselves to reach out to the local sheriff’s office when I was in the shower – something at the time I didn’t think was necessary. I didn’t want to create more drama. However, upon talking to the sheriff and seeing how serious he was taking the matter, I was starting to see that something was wrong. My gut feeling didn’t seal the deal, it was the sheriff saying, “get off trail immediately” before I even could say hello. The relief in his voice when I told him I was already off trail in a private residence was eye opening.”I knew that there were no direct threats made and no official orders could be filed. The sheriff told me that, in his view, the situation was bordering on harassment and stalking, and he advised me to get far away from him
I had a lovely evening with the everyone, truly getting me to forget about such a horrible day. I even got to see a reenactment of my favorite most memorable FarOut comments about the Piss Deer, totally ignorant that I was with the author! I was in the presence of royalty! I hadn’t had a good laugh like that in quite a while. I will be forever grateful for the kindness and advocacy of these once strangers.
Day 109: August 2; 6.1 miles
I headed out at 8:30am to execute my plan to keep distance. I said goodbye to everyone. Trail Angels and Trail Magic are so much more than people who give you free rides or free soda… these people exemplified the true meaning of angels and magic. Barely knowing me, they saw a woman in distress and made sure I was safe, fed, advocated for, and had a comfortable bed to sleep in. This is true trail magic. They are true angels. The couple whose house I stayed in are going to make incredible parents, and I really hope to run into the other hikers again on the trail.
I headed to the airport to pick up a car to drive back down to Ashland to complete the 50 miles I skipped. Having not driven a vehicle in almost 4 months, I was worried I was going to be a bit rusty, but a Jersey driver never forgets. In fact, when coming down a windy mountain road, I felt like a local yelling at the tourists who don’t know how to drive. Stop all that silly braking!!
I got into Ashland with just enough time to ship back my old tent and ship up a resupply package to Timberline Lodge. I am the only person with a Marmot tent on trail, making me super identifiable in a sea of Durstons. Wanting to maintain anonymity, I bought the cheapest ultralight one person tent REI had. I hate doing that without putting any research into it, but you know what they say about desperate times. I also called Timberline Lodge to ensure they keep their pickup logs private, as that seems to be the number one reason he knows my general location. The man on the phone ensured me that they maintain privacy and there is no way any staff member would reveal private information. Fingers crossed.
So after doing all that, I returned the car and got an uber back to Fish Lake to take the trail SOBO. I figured it’d be easier to hitch back to Ashland than getting a hitch or uber out of Fish Lake, a remote resort.
It was already 5:30pm and the first potential campsite was over 6 miles away. So off I went. It is so weird going south. The maps are not made for SOBO hikers, putting mile markers and direction completely off. The comments all are in NOBO numbers, forcing my brain to constantly perform gymnastics to make sure I know exactly where water and camping are. It’s certainly a NOBO’s world out here! But like anything else, it’s all temporary and I’ll be making my way back north soon.
The tent I bought certainly isn’t my favorite. It opens from the head of the tent, not the side. I have way less room under the vestibule to spread out my stuff (if you know anything about me my pack explodes the instant I stop, I need a lot of space to spread it all out!) and it makes my Marmot feel like the Taj Mahal. People always say 1 person tents feel like coffins. I never thought that about my Marmot. But this tent? Absolutely. It’s so tiny. But alas, I’ll be done this trail soon and I will have Addie and the safety of my bed to look forward to.
There is so much up in the air. If I continue to feel hunted and scared, I will likely exit the trail and go home. This has already tainted so much of the trail for me, but I’m also not willing to let someone intimidate me to leave something I’ve worked so hard to achieve. But I know my mom (my dad, family, and friends too, but mostly my poor mother) is beyond worried for me, and it may be time to stop being selfish and do what’s right for the people who love and worry about me. Regardless, the northern terminus won’t be open by the time I get there. So no matter what I’ll be home much earlier than I had planned or wanted. Whether that’s next week or early next month, the next few days will determine my next move.
Day 110: August 3; 30.9 miles
The wind picked up in a big way overnight and the new tent just loves to flap around. It was very distracting, pulling me away from my much needed sleep. I haven’t needed ear plugs in a while, but found them quickly and they worked like a charm – I was out like a light.
Because I’m going SOBO just for a few days, I’m going against the flow of traffic. During the short walk yesterday I saw 10 hikers. You feel a little like a celebrity going south… a bit of a rarity for the NOBO hiker considering not many SOBOs have made it this far south yet. With the enthusiasm of a deer about to indulge in pee, their eyes get wide with glee asking how the journey has been. It’s a bummer to pop their bubble with the old, “I’m only a SOBO a couple of days!”
Today I was determined to count all the NOBOs, but lost count by 11am at 75. By the end of the day it was well over 100. Of those 100, I would say 75 I recognized and 50 I had a conversation with. Notable run ins were Dean, Tea Time, German Couple, Stallion, and Oats. Most were confused why I was alone and going the wrong way, which was complicated to answer without giving away too much information. Either way it was so great to see faces I haven’t seen since the Sierra, knowing that they’re still on trail having (mostly) great time.
When filling up water, I overheard that there was trail magic just a mere 17 miles down the trail. Having already done 16, I was bound and determined to make it. Already 12pm, I knew I had a small window to get there by 6pm, when they wrapped up. Stopping to talk to everyone, though worth it, really slowed down my pace. But with a 2.6 mile road walk shortcut, I wasn’t too worried that I’d be late.
Am I a fan of shortcuts? No. Not at all. I try to avoid them, but the mind can be weak when the body is tired and root beer floats are hanging in the balance. I’ve taken a few shortcuts but really try to avoid any that would short more than 4 miles. Sure, it’s still a continuous foot path, but I want to try to stick to the trail as much as possible.
But like I said – there were root beer floats hanging in the balance. With gusto and determination, I think I set a new speed record for myself. In fact, I ran into Albie about 4.5 miles north of the trail magic. He introduced himself and let me know there was trail magic up ahead. “I know!” I exclaimed, “that’s why I’m hustling!” He’s one of the three men who provide the magic. I let him know I’d be there at 5:30, only an hour and 15 minutes away. When I got there huffing and puffing and in desperate need for ice cream, he was shocked I made it in time. “I told the guys we weren’t leaving till you got here! I didn’t think you’d make it till after 6!” Well, at least I had confidence in myself!
Jim, Ron, and Albie have been providing root beer floats to hikers for at least a week and will be going until the 15th. The trail goes through Ron’s property and he loves meeting hikers and we love his root beer floats. There were a number of us there, consuming a never ending supply of sweet and cold goodness. A few faces I recognized and caught up with.
But alas, though Albie offered me a room in his home and Ron a place to camp in his yard, I wanted to give the tent another shot and so off I went for another few miles, belly full and happy. I ran into a bear along the way, no doubt enjoying the abundance of blueberries, and so I decided to keep going a little farther. I found a perfectly good flat spot around 7:30pm and decided to call it quits. I’m too tired to cook, and besides I’m full off of floats anyway. So it’s off to bed for a short day back into town tomorrow to see what may come of it.
Day 111: August 5; 14.2 miles
I slept in a little… if 4:45am is sleeping in. The wind once again made itself known middle of the night. It’s mostly irritating because it sounds like little critters are rustling about, eating either my pack or the tent. But they kept their distance and I just had a minorly restless night’s sleep.
With short distance I wasn’t necessarily in a rush to get back into Ashland, but did need some time to plan out my next move. Whether it was back to Bend, up to Washington, or home, it had to get figured out.
The hike itself was pretty awful. I had no energy and I just wanted to be done. I blame how hot it got yesterday. I don’t think I realized how overheated I was, and I didn’t drink nearly enough water. There is a current heat wave where temps are approaching 100F. Maybe I’m ignoring it, but it’s not ignoring me. I kept having navigation mishaps that I blamed on reading the map backwards (I’m so used to going north, reading the map as a south bounder is really throwing me off), but I really think the heat got me.
I got to the road at noon. I sure wasn’t breaking any records. Now I just had to get a ride into town. I approached a woman who was surrounded by hikers. I asked if she was giving rides. She was, but her car was full. No problem! As I left the group a car pulled over and offered a ride! I didn’t even have to stick out my thumb.
Kathy lives in Ashland with her husband, John. Her mom just passed away last week but she spoke of the event so positively. At 89 her mom lived a long full life and decided to pass on her own terms. She was content and ready for what comes next, and was particularly excited to see her husband again. Having worked with folks at end of life, there is something beautiful (not at all sad) about being ready leaving this world after leading a full and happy life. If only we all could be that blessed.
After talking a bit in the car, Kathy wondered how I knew so much about Ashland. “Well,” I explained, “it’s my third time here” “What?!” She was shocked. I briefly explained what’s been going on and she insisted that I go to her house to plan. She refused to drop me off at a coffee shop in town and next thing I knew we were pulling into her driveway. She has a beautiful home with an unbelievable backyard that houses goats and horses. It’s so beautiful, in fact, her son got married there in June and her daughter will be doing the same next May. I asked if I ever get married can she can host – she said absolutely. At this point she’s a pro wedding planner!
Kathy insisted I eat, shower, and do laundry. Her friend Susie stopped over and they both convinced me that skipping up to Washington was the best move. So, mom and dad, you can thank Kathy and Susie for talking some sense into me. My parents age, they were a hoot to hang out with. You can tell they are genuinely kind and caring people – I mean look how they took in a poor hungry hiker! It’s a shame to know I’ll never see people like Kathy or Nancy (from Shasta era) in person again. But I plan on sending a bunch of postcards/letters/texts when I’m done this thing, wherever I end up.
The plan was made, I was going up to Washington. After saying goodbye and a million thank yous to Kathy, I got a rental car and started the drive. Already late afternoon with a needed resupply stop, I decided to only go halfway up to Portland and stop in Oakland at a cute little motel.
I haven’t spoken much about the smoke situation, but it’s been a constant presence for the past week. It’s progressively gotten worse the further north I go. A new fire seems to be popping up every day. A lot of hikers are sheltering in place, some even opting to go home considering the terminus is closed. Sure it’s not the end all be all, but it’s a huge bummer to not be able to sit atop that monument in victory, having completed the journey of a lifetime. But that’s just is what it is.
I thought about this a lot during the drive up to Oakland. I couldn’t possibly imagine this is how the last few hundred miles of my thru hike would look like. I could be angry and bitter at the hand I was dealt, but it’s my journey. We all have different experiences out here, this just happens to be mine. It’s my story, and I either can accept it and complete it on my terms, or let it consume me. Adapt or die is one of my favorite phrases, and I’m trying my best to adapt.
Emilie Bikes and Hikes 