I Would Walk 500 Miles!

I woke up this morning and was able to stand up.  No groans, no thoughts of leg amputations, no begging for forgiveness from the mosquito gods.  I just got up.  I know that doesn't sound like such a crazy phenomenon.  After the last week though, that is fucking incredible.  I just went on a shopping binge and my cart had the following: Hiking sticks, hiking sandals, water purification tablets, headlamp, knife.  What the fuck happened last week?

Monday:  Eva and I bid farewell to Myrtle Glenn Farms.  Time to embark on our next journey.  We hitchhike to Crater Lake National Park.  Amazing hitches (I really have to write a post on hitching, its been eye opening).  We manage to make a 4 hour drive in only 6 1/2 hours of hitching.  We end up at Diamond Lake, north of Crater Lake.  We pick up some shitty maps and head for the hills.  As we are looking for a place to make camp, we realize that Diamond Lake's name should be Mosquito Village.  Never in my life have I been subjected to such a fierce attack.  One slap on your arm would kill 4 or 5 little bastards.  Of course we don't have any repellent (I'm no boyscout) and we don't carry a tent.  As we slip into our sleeping bags, hundreds of mosquito's swarm our faces.  It was awful.  I must have swallowed 10 of them that night.  Its 9 days later and I'm still sporting the marks all over my body.

Monday's Score: 0 miles, 227 mosquito bites, 143 mosquito kills, 1 bad ass mood.

Tuesday:  We wake up and start heading for the trail head.  Our plan is to head up Mt. Thielsen then catch the PCT (Pacific Crest Trail) south towards Crater Lake.  The PCT is a trail that goes from the Mexican border clear through to Canada. Its 2,640 miles long. Every spring hundreds of people start it on the Mexican border then make there way up to Canada (this year only 80 were left by August). It takes about 5 months. We have a tough time finding the trail head, but we stumbled on a place to buy repellent.  After walking around a couple of miles and getting a hitch, we make our way up the mountain.  Its a nice hike up.  Unfortunately the combination of lack of sleep and altitude adjustment gave me a brutal headache.  About 7500 feet up (which was a 5 mile hike) the trail intersects with the PCT trail.  Then its another 2000 feet up that is really rough, so I skip that and wait for Eva (this way she can leave her bag there as well).  Our plan was to take the PCT another 25 miles south to Crater Lake.  But we bumped into one of the thru-hikers (someone doing the whole thing) and he suggested we skip the next segment then do the part just south of Crater Lake.  Sounds like a plan.  We hike another 6 miles down to the road that runs through Crater Lake National Park.  We camp a mile from the road and plan to hitchhike to the lake the next day.

Tuesday's Score: 13 miles, 20 bites, 15 mosquito kills.

Wednesday: We wake up early and head for the road.  I'm really excited because Crater Lake is supposed to be gorgeous.  And I'm looking forward to not hiking for a day.  We get a hitch with an awesome couple.  They are just driving around the crater stopping at all the vistas.  We got to see most of the lake in a couple of hours.  They leave us off at the visitor center where we hope to get a map for the next hiking section.  Time for a bombshell.  The next segment is 52 miles (that was the gap between roads where we can hitchhike off of).  Let me remind you that my biggest hike before this summer was 4 miles.  I have three monster hikes of around 13 miles each under my belt, one of which we did the previous day (I was still feeling it in my feet)!  I was not so comfortable doing it, especially when we were told there are 15-20 mile gaps between water sources.  I can drink 5-6 liters of water a day sitting in front of a computer.  Logic was saying that I should not be biting off this much to chew.  But no one ever accused me of doing the smart thing.  I figure what the hell, we may as well get some hiking in that afternoon.  We reload our energy bar supply and head for the hills.  It was scary and exciting at the same time and it got my adrenaline pumping.  After walking the few miles to the trail head, we pounded out 8 miles of trail from 4-8pm.  I was feeling great about myself and started to do some math in my head.  The thru-hikers usually do about 28 miles a day (did I mention that they are crazy).  I figured maybe we can pound out 20 miles a day and finish it off the next two days.  We get to a decent place to sleep and make camp along with two northbound thru-hikers.

Wednesday's Score: 9 miles, 0 mosquito bites or kills, 24.7 liters of optimism.

Thursday: I'm an idiot.  20 miles a day?!?!?  Who am I kidding.  It starts off well, and I'm feeling great about it.  It just so happens that all the thru-hikers are passing through the area we are heading southbound (they end up getting bunched up so that everyone that is left is within a couple of days of each other).  We meet up with about 12-15 of them each day.  Some of them are really interesting.  They all give each other nicknames that  they go by on the trail.  We met up with a guy, Hasty, who biked from Virginia to Florida then to San Diego.  After he got bored of biking he hopped on the trail (near Mexico) and was hiking for a few months.  A killer version of Planes, Trains, and Automobiles.  The actual hiking is not too bad (no rough trails and not too much elevation).  But the pain to the feet and legs is cumulative.  After about 10 miles, I start to really drag.  I'm also running low on water.  We hit a break point about 2 miles from the next water source.  My calves are on fire and the soles of my feet are starting to become 2 giant blisters.  Hot, thirsty and grumpy.  I stumble my way through the next couple of miles and gulp down a couple of liters of great water out of a nice looking creek.  I have no interest in going farther.  Fortunately there is a lake about 1/2 mile off the trail.  Maybe it was the situation, but it was the most beautiful lake I've ever been to.  One side of the lake was up against Devil's Peak, which was still feeding melted snow into the lake.  The other side was shallow and warm.  I went in and soaked forever (probably only 20 minutes, but who's counting) then made camp for the night.

Thursday's Score: 16 miles, 2 monster blisters, 847 cusses. 

Friday: Hiking 16 miles sounds good, but then you have to wake up and do it again.  At this point, part of me regrets getting started.  But I'm halfway through, so there is no point in stopping.  It is excruciatingly painful to put my boots back on and stand up.  For the first hour I couldn't get my knees to work normally.  Eventually I loosen up.  We make it up and over Devil's Peak and saw some of the most beautiful vista's I've ever seen in my life.  I'm getting into a hiking groove.  The first 10 miles are moving well.  Then I reach for a sip of water and realize that I'm running low.  I bust out the map and realize that I have another 8 miles to the next water source.  SHIT!  Did I mention that I'm big and drink tons?  I keep going, but at this point I'm nearing the point where my feet don't want to go anymore.  Eventually I bump into Eva (she took an alternate trail that day) and we find out we still have a few miles to go.  I ran out of water miles before.  Who the fuck likes to hike anyways?  Eva went ahead and filled the water bottles.  She came back out and brought me a bottle.  While she was gone was one of the scariest times of my life.  In retrospect I know that I wasn't in real danger (even in bad shape, it takes much longer to pass out from dehydration), but that wasn't helping me then.  We make it to the area where people camp near the water and find that there are no level spots.  I'm tired, in excruciating pain, and feel like shit from the water situation.  I just drop my mattress pad on top of some sticks and rocks and pass out.  Throughout the night I'm reminded of the sticks and rocks every 10 seconds or so.

Friday's Score: 17 miles, 3 prayers to end me, 8 liters of water.

Saturday:  The end is in site.  Just 12 miles away.  Did I really say "Just 12 miles?"  I get up early and we set a pretty decent pace to start.  There is a road ahead.  And a shower (after three days my own smell made me come close to vomiting).  Every step makes my feet feel like Paul's in Misery, but the end is nearly in sight.  We make it to highway 140 around 3:30pm.  Hallelujah (Jeff Buckley style)!!!  We are too tired to walk the two miles to the campsite (where there is food, laundry and showers).  Fortunately the first car stops and gives a ride in the bed of his pickup.  We get there and slowly make our way back into the civilized world.  They have a cafe there that sells "The Hiker" named after all the starving hikers that come in.  Two half pound burger patties with all the fixings.  How could I not order it.  Of course my stomach has felt nothing but energy bars and pepperoni sticks the last 5 days and I couldn't even finish half of it, but that was Eva's fortune.  There are a few other hikers there and we give them some tips (since we were coming from the opposite direction) about water sources.  I struck up a conversation with a couple and got us a ride to start our hitchhiking down to California.  But that is for another time.

Saturday's Score: 12 miles, 7 tons of relief, 1 monster burger.

Total Score: 4.5 days, 68 miles, 1 great sense of accomplishment.