September 30
Gear
It is always fun to list gear. And so here is what I used on my PCT hike.
Packs
GoLite Pinnacle, 25 oz frameless pack
I had no idea how t pack it, so it failed and was miserably uncomfortable.
At Idyllwild I switched out to a much larger internal frame pack, the GoLite Odyssey. It was huge, but light, and carried weight well. I used it until Donner Pass where I shed my winter gear. I then switched to a GoLite Jam2. With a roll up foam pad, it was perfect for my newly found love of all thing ultralight.
Pad
3/4 length Thermarest Z-Rest
I used this up to Donner summit with no complaints. At Donner Pass when I switched packs to a Jam2 I switched to a half length Ridgerest. This was all I needed for the rest of the trail.
Sleeping bags
Mountain Hardware Phantom 32 sleeping bag
I used a Phantom 0, zero degree bag in the sierras which was completely overkill, but I stayed very warm. I switched back to the Phantom 32 and didn’t zip it up once for the rest of the trip.
Tent
Shires Tarptent Rainbow. 32 ounce, single wall. It did have some condensation issues, but all single wall tents do. It kept out the bugs and worked well in the torrential rain of Washinton.
Cooking
I used a soda can alcohol stove made by Frankosaurus. He had a few extra. I had made my own, but it didn’t work well. I used a giant 1.3 liter titanium pot for cooking. I gave up cooking in Old Station, near Lassen, and began hydrating food in a peanut butter jar. This worked great! I would go stoveless again.
Hydration
I used a pump filter. Hiker Pro. 11 oz and fairly reliable. I was never ill, and I did drink straight from many water sources, especially high up. I drank out of soda bottles, and carried four liters for the driest sections. That dropped to one or two in the sierras, and Washington.
Clothes
For the most part, I wore long sleeves and pants. Light hiking pants and a button up violently orange shirt. My favorite other layer was my Marmot Driclimb Windshirt. It was warm, and I think I wore it every morning. I used it as a pillow, and as an extra layer of warthm at night if it was that cold. There were a few icy nights in Washington. I also had a puffy down jacket in the Sierras. The long sleeves saved me from the scorching sun. I mean, how many people do you see who live in Asian, and African deserts wearing shorts, huh? I think THEY know what they are doing.
Raingear
I used a $1.99 poncho until central Oregon where I switched out to a heavier nylon poncho, and used Dryducks rain gear for Washington. They are not very durable, but very cheap and worked better than any raincoat I had ever used. I think that I would simply use a poncho next time. Coats are too cumbersome, and don’t ventilate very well, even classy expensive ones.
Shoes
I started with Salomon light hiking shoes from REI which had no support.
In Idyllwild I was shipped a pair of cheap Nevado hiking shoes I had worn at home very happily. With Insoles they were tolerable. They were trashed within 250 miles.
In Agua Dulce, I switched to Merrell Moab Ventilators which were comfortable and minimally supportive. I wore two pairs of those between Agua Dulce and the end. I used a new pair of them for my mop up tour, and still use them for wrk. They are very durable, but not fast drying, and not very supportive.
Baseweight
I never accurately measured. But here are some rough estimates.
Campo to Idyllwild: 12 lbs
Idyllwild to KM: 13, Bigger pack
KM to Donner Pass: 17 lbs, ice axe and bear canister add a lot
Donner Pass to Shelter Cove Oregon 9 lbs, small pack and more careful packing
Shelter Cove to the end:10 lbs, added rain gear
Ashland to road 17: 7 lbs, bare essentials
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Monday, September 15, 2008
I Didn’t Know Marble Was This Flammable.
September 15
Ashland to Etna, sort of
I was hosted in Seattle by extended family. They treated me to my favorite northwest ice cream, Tillamook Mudslide. Very good stuff for a half gallon container. Normally a thru hiker has to watch their diet very closely upon finishing a hike. They still feel as if they need 5000 calories a day, even though they are not burning that much. But in my defense, I still have 150 miles to go. I have more, but I have decided to hold off on the stretch from Sierra City to Chester. Due to fire, that section was closed for nearly all of this year’s hikers.
I left Seattle with a giant turkey sandwich in my possession, arriving by train in Salem to visit more family. I must have ate 20 pounds of cherry tomatoes before leaving by bus the next day en route to Medford, where I hitched to Ashland to start hiking south.
After nearly a week of zeroes, it felt great to be walking again. What am I going to do with myself when I get back home? I thought.
After 15 miles, I found a cooler stocked with sodas! I don’t recall whether I have discussed “trail magic.” This is when a hiker finds something unexpected n trail such as a cooler full of sodas, fresh fruit, a guy making sandwiches, a guy giving rides and letting hikers stay at his house. People go out of their way to support hikers which gives us much needed morale boosts. I could have survived the 75 degree late summer day without a root beer, but is was a bonus.
I camped high up, under a stout pine tree. With clear skies and views of lights from distant towns, I “cowboy camped” under the stars.
I wanted an early start so I could knock out as many miles as possible the next day. It was now late in summer and daylight had decreased. I was up at dawn, about 5:30 and walking 15 minutes later. From my camp above 6000 feet, it was a long mellow descent to Siead Valley, home of the famous five pound pancake challenge. The trail was easy and the weather was pleasant. I made highway 96 at about 7:00, 43 miles into my hiking day. I had hoped to get this far, not expecting to go further. But with a little daylight left, and nothing but road to walk on, I decided to go further. It was another 8 miles to Grider Camp, near the northern border of the Marble Mountains.
And so at 9:30 pm, in the dark I arrived at my destination, sore and tired after about 15 hours of hiking and a 51 mile day. I laid down my tyvek ground cloth , pulled my sleeping bag out and fell asleep quickly.
Feeling refreshed in the morning, I moved futher south, gaining elevation into the Marble Mountains. About 10 miles in, I reached a bit of a clearing with a view south. Ahead of me was a plume of smoke reaching thousands of feet in the air. I took out my compass to check how close to the trail it might be, and quickly turned around and jogged back to highway 96.
Upon reaching Etna by way of hitching, I received news that that a controlled fire had jumped and exploded into an inferno, somewhat close to the trail. It is not in the cards for me to hike the Marbles this year. I tried twice!
So with two full days to go until being picked up by family in Yreka, I jumped on trail just south of the Marble Mountains and headed further south. The views in the Russian Wilderness are rather like northern Washington, just slightly more arid. The terrain is steep, but the trail traversed the ridges pleasantly.
On the third day, early in the morning, I was done. I now had continuous footsteps from Chester to Etna, and the Northern Marble Mountains to Canada. This, I told myself, was enough. This was the trail this year.
In total, I walked nearly 2500 miles.
If I encounter closures the next time I hike the PCT, I will find alternate routes to connect my steps. But I have no regrets for this year.
before I started, I had never been out for more than five nights, and had never hiked more that 50 miles in a single trek. I had never had to resupply in a town between sections of trail.
I met a lot of great people out there this year, hiking sections with Zoner, Frankosaurus, Zorro, Lei Low, Tarzan, Zelda, Ninja Tortoise, Scratches, Oasis, The Sheik, Lumbar, Voyageur and Forrest. I met many more, too many to mention.
So I am hooked. I thought maybe this would break up the time in between years and years of school, but I feel like more. I spent the last 700 miles planning on future treks.
So what is on the docket for the next few years? Appalachian Trail, Continental Divide Trail, Northern Forest Canoe Trail, Te Araroa (the longest trail in New Zealand,) Sendero de Chile (Length of Chile) GR10, GR11, Sail around the world? It will be exceedingly difficult to settle down. Stay tuned for more!
Ashland to Etna, sort of
I was hosted in Seattle by extended family. They treated me to my favorite northwest ice cream, Tillamook Mudslide. Very good stuff for a half gallon container. Normally a thru hiker has to watch their diet very closely upon finishing a hike. They still feel as if they need 5000 calories a day, even though they are not burning that much. But in my defense, I still have 150 miles to go. I have more, but I have decided to hold off on the stretch from Sierra City to Chester. Due to fire, that section was closed for nearly all of this year’s hikers.
I left Seattle with a giant turkey sandwich in my possession, arriving by train in Salem to visit more family. I must have ate 20 pounds of cherry tomatoes before leaving by bus the next day en route to Medford, where I hitched to Ashland to start hiking south.
After nearly a week of zeroes, it felt great to be walking again. What am I going to do with myself when I get back home? I thought.
After 15 miles, I found a cooler stocked with sodas! I don’t recall whether I have discussed “trail magic.” This is when a hiker finds something unexpected n trail such as a cooler full of sodas, fresh fruit, a guy making sandwiches, a guy giving rides and letting hikers stay at his house. People go out of their way to support hikers which gives us much needed morale boosts. I could have survived the 75 degree late summer day without a root beer, but is was a bonus.
I camped high up, under a stout pine tree. With clear skies and views of lights from distant towns, I “cowboy camped” under the stars.
I wanted an early start so I could knock out as many miles as possible the next day. It was now late in summer and daylight had decreased. I was up at dawn, about 5:30 and walking 15 minutes later. From my camp above 6000 feet, it was a long mellow descent to Siead Valley, home of the famous five pound pancake challenge. The trail was easy and the weather was pleasant. I made highway 96 at about 7:00, 43 miles into my hiking day. I had hoped to get this far, not expecting to go further. But with a little daylight left, and nothing but road to walk on, I decided to go further. It was another 8 miles to Grider Camp, near the northern border of the Marble Mountains.
And so at 9:30 pm, in the dark I arrived at my destination, sore and tired after about 15 hours of hiking and a 51 mile day. I laid down my tyvek ground cloth , pulled my sleeping bag out and fell asleep quickly.
Feeling refreshed in the morning, I moved futher south, gaining elevation into the Marble Mountains. About 10 miles in, I reached a bit of a clearing with a view south. Ahead of me was a plume of smoke reaching thousands of feet in the air. I took out my compass to check how close to the trail it might be, and quickly turned around and jogged back to highway 96.
Upon reaching Etna by way of hitching, I received news that that a controlled fire had jumped and exploded into an inferno, somewhat close to the trail. It is not in the cards for me to hike the Marbles this year. I tried twice!
So with two full days to go until being picked up by family in Yreka, I jumped on trail just south of the Marble Mountains and headed further south. The views in the Russian Wilderness are rather like northern Washington, just slightly more arid. The terrain is steep, but the trail traversed the ridges pleasantly.
On the third day, early in the morning, I was done. I now had continuous footsteps from Chester to Etna, and the Northern Marble Mountains to Canada. This, I told myself, was enough. This was the trail this year.
In total, I walked nearly 2500 miles.
If I encounter closures the next time I hike the PCT, I will find alternate routes to connect my steps. But I have no regrets for this year.
before I started, I had never been out for more than five nights, and had never hiked more that 50 miles in a single trek. I had never had to resupply in a town between sections of trail.
I met a lot of great people out there this year, hiking sections with Zoner, Frankosaurus, Zorro, Lei Low, Tarzan, Zelda, Ninja Tortoise, Scratches, Oasis, The Sheik, Lumbar, Voyageur and Forrest. I met many more, too many to mention.
So I am hooked. I thought maybe this would break up the time in between years and years of school, but I feel like more. I spent the last 700 miles planning on future treks.
So what is on the docket for the next few years? Appalachian Trail, Continental Divide Trail, Northern Forest Canoe Trail, Te Araroa (the longest trail in New Zealand,) Sendero de Chile (Length of Chile) GR10, GR11, Sail around the world? It will be exceedingly difficult to settle down. Stay tuned for more!
Thursday, September 4, 2008
Dim Sum and Den Some!
September 4
Bridge of the Gods to Manning Park
After two beautiful days of sun in Skykomish I returned to the PCT and once again torrential rain. I made 23 miles under the protection of my poncho and camped with a couple people who had llamas.
The next day was closer to 30 miles, crossing several of the infamous northern Cascades’ creeks. I cannot recount views, as I had none. I ate Huckleberries and met one southbound hiker.
Day three was more of the same, but as the afternoon progressed, it got much more interesting.
I dried out my gear in the first sun I had seen since Skykomish when I was met by more hikers, Mapman and Robin, as well as Serpico and Chris. After drying my gear I climbed the 2000 feet with Serpico and Chris to the higher wildflower fields on the shoulders of Glacier Peak.
Coming up was the infamous seven miles stretch of 400 blowdowns, 400 trees crossing the trail. This included old growth monsters, ten feet wide. It is said to take up to seven hours to make it through.
The three of us started down toward the the equally infamous Suiattle River, more to come on that momentarily. “I thought it would be trees wrapped by vines, cris-crossed into a torturous pattern, impassable… no, not even close. It took us about two hours! I thought of it as a sort of obstacle course like the TV program Ninja Warrior! We vaulted small logs and ducked under monster dead spruce logs.” ~ San Gabriel’s journal dated August 26, 2008.
Then came the Suiattle. This is also from my journal from August 26.
“I have been warned about the treacherous and possibly fatal Suiattle River. There is a scene in Mel Brooks’ Robin Hood Men in Tights when Robin, Achoo, and Blinken must cross a river guarded by Little John. Achoo in his infinite wisdom points out “This ain’t exactly the Mississippi.” I felt a bit like Achoo upon reaching the Suiattle. Though the water was silty and swift, it was shallow and had a very stable log across it, which I walked without much of a thought to the danger gushing by below me. It wasn’t that bad.
There is something that I have learned on my voyage this year: Don’t believe what people tell you! I was told Apache Peak was dangerous, so I took the alternate. After that I vowed to look for myself. The sign at Santiam Pass was… foreboding but hilarious! The area turned out to be safe and navigable. And the Suiattle River was an easier crossing than most of the Sierra rivers and MUCH easier than the gushing torrent I faced before Steven’s Pass.”
The next morning I awoke early and made 21 quick miles to the nearest road. This happened to be the road to Stehekin, an isolated one way gravel number with access between the PCT and the hamlet on the northern end of the fjord-like Lake Chalan.
Here I found Voyageur and Forrest, who had arrived at noon, on the earlier shuttle. I crammed my tent into a nook between trees on the steep grade in the free camp ground.
“The little hamlet exists out of time on the northern shores of dramatic fjord-like Lake Chalan, a glacial fed 50 mile waterway that feeds the Columbia River. The elevation here is about 1500 feet but the mountains tower above the icy deep water, disappearing somewhere in the omnipresent clouds. In the town, a few buildings are scattered along the shore, a post office, restaurant, inn, and a considerable number of residences. There are also a fair many cars, but I have no idea where they get gas! It’s a 50 mile fairy ride to the nearest stoplight!” ~ Me, 8-27-08
“There is much hullabaloo about the Stehekin bakery. The three of us went to said bakery for breakfast, sharing rolls, scones, coffee cake… I must say I am impressed! For a small town Bakery it was very good! The scones were top notch. And the rolls were exceedingly sticky and flaky, simultaneously! I left overly full with a bag of bagels for less than $10. That is less than I would spend on a stack of pancakes and orange juice at any restaurant! I will make a similar return tomorrow before trekking out for the final 88 miles.” -~ Me again, 8-28-08
Delayed by an unfortunate backpack mixup, Forrest and I left after Voyageur on the afternoon of the 29th. It rained several times, but not for very long. We camped in a huckleberry field.
Voyageur was still ahead of us on the 31st and were given news of this several times during the day. Forrest and I awoke, south of Hearts Pass with an inch of snow on the ground. With my hands tucked into my pockets, we paced quickly along the grassy alpine hillsides. We were met by a Hiker named “Phew” So named for the sound she made. “Are you San gabriel and someone else?” She asked Forrest, who was 50 feet in front of me. “Well he is San Gabriel and *I* am someone else.” I think Forrest earned a trailname.
At about 3:00 after fairly ridiculous mileage we finally caught up with Voyageur. We had decided to finish together when we were in Stehekin. And so now we could. We camped early after descending from our last bit of trail above 7000 feet.
From Hopkins Lake, our last camp, it was a mere seven miles to the border. We all had our celebratory border food. Voyageur had prepared a no bake cheesecake which he planned on topping with Huckleberries. Forrest had some classy chocolate, and I had kippered hearing and crackers, in honor of my Norwegian heritage.
On the last switchback with views of the border swath we descended to the border monument. 2650 miles separate the two nearly identical monuments, though the one at Campo was significantly more sun-bleached.
We took an hour at the monument eating our various treats and taking photos under partly cloudy skies. I was overjoyed to be there, but several hundred miles of burned forest in California nagged at me. “gotta finish, gotta finish, gotta finish gotta...” a mantra continued in my head. But for now, I would celebrate.
We were joined presently by Mapman and Robin.
In all, seven hikers left Manning Park en route to Vancouver the next morning. The five of us, accompanied by Lumbar, with whom I had hiked in the Sierras, and Lucky, who I had met in Old Station and Cascade Locks, rode into the bustling metropolis of Vancouver in the early afternoon.
Voyageur and Forrest had made a contact in Leavenworth. That contact had a loft in Vancouver! So we base-camped out of said loft. We enjoyed Indian food our first evening. Voyageur left the next day. Now to find Park Lock.
Vancouver has one of the larger Chinatowns. In 1996 or so I had eaten the most incredible Dim Sum at a restaurant in this very town. I had an address. From the loft it was only 10 blocks to my destination. I looked across the street to the windows on the second story of a dilapidated structure. There it was. I had walked 2500 miles to dine here... Or that’s what I told myself. Racks of clothing blocked the entrance. I looked longingly into the windows for signs of life. The woman who was peddling clothing blocking the entrance shook her head apologetically at me. I circled the other block, only seeing the hours listed in Chinese. I tried again the next day.
I also visited the University, where I had once thought of attending should I pursue a doctorate. I made a pilgrimage to the Olympic village, under construction on the waterfront.
Heartbroken, I left Vancouver with the second best Dim Sum I had ever had in a cardboard box. I had eaten a dozen steamed buns, “Bao” and numerous other dumplings.
One day I will return. For now, I am satisfied and headed to Northern California after I visit family in Seattle and Salem.
Bridge of the Gods to Manning Park
After two beautiful days of sun in Skykomish I returned to the PCT and once again torrential rain. I made 23 miles under the protection of my poncho and camped with a couple people who had llamas.
The next day was closer to 30 miles, crossing several of the infamous northern Cascades’ creeks. I cannot recount views, as I had none. I ate Huckleberries and met one southbound hiker.
Day three was more of the same, but as the afternoon progressed, it got much more interesting.
I dried out my gear in the first sun I had seen since Skykomish when I was met by more hikers, Mapman and Robin, as well as Serpico and Chris. After drying my gear I climbed the 2000 feet with Serpico and Chris to the higher wildflower fields on the shoulders of Glacier Peak.
Coming up was the infamous seven miles stretch of 400 blowdowns, 400 trees crossing the trail. This included old growth monsters, ten feet wide. It is said to take up to seven hours to make it through.
The three of us started down toward the the equally infamous Suiattle River, more to come on that momentarily. “I thought it would be trees wrapped by vines, cris-crossed into a torturous pattern, impassable… no, not even close. It took us about two hours! I thought of it as a sort of obstacle course like the TV program Ninja Warrior! We vaulted small logs and ducked under monster dead spruce logs.” ~ San Gabriel’s journal dated August 26, 2008.
Then came the Suiattle. This is also from my journal from August 26.
“I have been warned about the treacherous and possibly fatal Suiattle River. There is a scene in Mel Brooks’ Robin Hood Men in Tights when Robin, Achoo, and Blinken must cross a river guarded by Little John. Achoo in his infinite wisdom points out “This ain’t exactly the Mississippi.” I felt a bit like Achoo upon reaching the Suiattle. Though the water was silty and swift, it was shallow and had a very stable log across it, which I walked without much of a thought to the danger gushing by below me. It wasn’t that bad.
There is something that I have learned on my voyage this year: Don’t believe what people tell you! I was told Apache Peak was dangerous, so I took the alternate. After that I vowed to look for myself. The sign at Santiam Pass was… foreboding but hilarious! The area turned out to be safe and navigable. And the Suiattle River was an easier crossing than most of the Sierra rivers and MUCH easier than the gushing torrent I faced before Steven’s Pass.”
The next morning I awoke early and made 21 quick miles to the nearest road. This happened to be the road to Stehekin, an isolated one way gravel number with access between the PCT and the hamlet on the northern end of the fjord-like Lake Chalan.
Here I found Voyageur and Forrest, who had arrived at noon, on the earlier shuttle. I crammed my tent into a nook between trees on the steep grade in the free camp ground.
“The little hamlet exists out of time on the northern shores of dramatic fjord-like Lake Chalan, a glacial fed 50 mile waterway that feeds the Columbia River. The elevation here is about 1500 feet but the mountains tower above the icy deep water, disappearing somewhere in the omnipresent clouds. In the town, a few buildings are scattered along the shore, a post office, restaurant, inn, and a considerable number of residences. There are also a fair many cars, but I have no idea where they get gas! It’s a 50 mile fairy ride to the nearest stoplight!” ~ Me, 8-27-08
“There is much hullabaloo about the Stehekin bakery. The three of us went to said bakery for breakfast, sharing rolls, scones, coffee cake… I must say I am impressed! For a small town Bakery it was very good! The scones were top notch. And the rolls were exceedingly sticky and flaky, simultaneously! I left overly full with a bag of bagels for less than $10. That is less than I would spend on a stack of pancakes and orange juice at any restaurant! I will make a similar return tomorrow before trekking out for the final 88 miles.” -~ Me again, 8-28-08
Delayed by an unfortunate backpack mixup, Forrest and I left after Voyageur on the afternoon of the 29th. It rained several times, but not for very long. We camped in a huckleberry field.
Voyageur was still ahead of us on the 31st and were given news of this several times during the day. Forrest and I awoke, south of Hearts Pass with an inch of snow on the ground. With my hands tucked into my pockets, we paced quickly along the grassy alpine hillsides. We were met by a Hiker named “Phew” So named for the sound she made. “Are you San gabriel and someone else?” She asked Forrest, who was 50 feet in front of me. “Well he is San Gabriel and *I* am someone else.” I think Forrest earned a trailname.
At about 3:00 after fairly ridiculous mileage we finally caught up with Voyageur. We had decided to finish together when we were in Stehekin. And so now we could. We camped early after descending from our last bit of trail above 7000 feet.
From Hopkins Lake, our last camp, it was a mere seven miles to the border. We all had our celebratory border food. Voyageur had prepared a no bake cheesecake which he planned on topping with Huckleberries. Forrest had some classy chocolate, and I had kippered hearing and crackers, in honor of my Norwegian heritage.
On the last switchback with views of the border swath we descended to the border monument. 2650 miles separate the two nearly identical monuments, though the one at Campo was significantly more sun-bleached.
We took an hour at the monument eating our various treats and taking photos under partly cloudy skies. I was overjoyed to be there, but several hundred miles of burned forest in California nagged at me. “gotta finish, gotta finish, gotta finish gotta...” a mantra continued in my head. But for now, I would celebrate.
We were joined presently by Mapman and Robin.
In all, seven hikers left Manning Park en route to Vancouver the next morning. The five of us, accompanied by Lumbar, with whom I had hiked in the Sierras, and Lucky, who I had met in Old Station and Cascade Locks, rode into the bustling metropolis of Vancouver in the early afternoon.
Voyageur and Forrest had made a contact in Leavenworth. That contact had a loft in Vancouver! So we base-camped out of said loft. We enjoyed Indian food our first evening. Voyageur left the next day. Now to find Park Lock.
Vancouver has one of the larger Chinatowns. In 1996 or so I had eaten the most incredible Dim Sum at a restaurant in this very town. I had an address. From the loft it was only 10 blocks to my destination. I looked across the street to the windows on the second story of a dilapidated structure. There it was. I had walked 2500 miles to dine here... Or that’s what I told myself. Racks of clothing blocked the entrance. I looked longingly into the windows for signs of life. The woman who was peddling clothing blocking the entrance shook her head apologetically at me. I circled the other block, only seeing the hours listed in Chinese. I tried again the next day.
I also visited the University, where I had once thought of attending should I pursue a doctorate. I made a pilgrimage to the Olympic village, under construction on the waterfront.
Heartbroken, I left Vancouver with the second best Dim Sum I had ever had in a cardboard box. I had eaten a dozen steamed buns, “Bao” and numerous other dumplings.
One day I will return. For now, I am satisfied and headed to Northern California after I visit family in Seattle and Salem.
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