Sat. June 4    Miles today: 23.9       Total so far: 442.2

We were up ‘n at em early, hoping for good mileage, but mornings are the hardest for Bill–his feet are really sore, and it takes a long time before hiking “numbs them up” and he can walk at anything like a normal pace.  We walked the 1/4 mile to the ranger station and found the ranger’s little patch of green grass was covered with thru-hiker sleeping bags, many still occupied!  Plus there were several tousled, sleepy people eating breakfast at the ranger’s picnic table.  We filled our water bottles at the faucet and started a determined uphill climb, stopping for breakfast after an hour.  As we ate our granola, we joked about having dreams of a big breakfast at IHOP!   One of the thru-hikers passed us while we were eating and grumped about the uphill climb,  “This is just WRONG to make us climb a hill so early in the morning!” 

Really NICE trail!

On our way again, we were passed by a trail runner who gave us a cheery “good morning”.  Bill said he was tempted to respond, “Hi to you, too–but better not inhale as you go by us–we smell pretty ripe!”  The uphill climb continued for some time, but the trail was really nice–easy to walk on. 

View of the youth camp on missile base

Eventually, we passed a youth camp on what used to be a missile base.  We could hear their loudspeaker announcements from all the way across the canyon. I have been a chaperone at 4-H youth camps, and one of the nice things about going home after camp was how QUIET home was–no more yelling kids, no more loudspeakers! (But camp really was fun, and both kids, counselors (who were teen 4-Hers) and chaperones (us adults) had a great time being there!)

Ceanothus--California's wild lilac

 Finally we reached our goal–the top of Mt. Gleason!!  Awesome views all the way out toward the ocean!  Downhill, the trail was lined with sweet, pale blue ceanothus in full bloom. 

Short rations "whatchagot" stew

By noon, we’d reached Messenger Flats Campground where there was no water, but at least picnic tables.  I turned one table into an “air the sleeping bags” zone and cooked dinner on the other one.  The “short rations stew” I concocted of odds ‘n ends turned out pretty good.  It was made of the last bits of “dinner stuff” left in our packs.

Then I spent awhile trying to tape and bandage Bill’s feet.  New blisters and “rubbed raw” places just keep appearing.  The new shoes seem to be the main culprit.  With Bill taped up, we headed into the afternoon, and shortly met a fairly determined rattlesnake right by the trail.  It took a number of rock tosses to persuade him to move!  I remembered a rattlesnake encounter back in Deep Creek Canyon, where the poor snake was so scared of US that he buzzed, “screamed”, and ran–right over the edge of the cliff!  But this snake slithered down the hill into the bushes.  We RAN past where he’d been, just in case!

A few minutes of hiking later, what a contrast!  We found ourselves in a magnificent wildflower garden.  If it weren’t for trying to make miles, I would SO have stopped and spent time there.  But it was a good feeling to finally reach the North Fork Saddle Ranger station and WATER!  We filled our bottles, and then began a very frustrating “downhill” trek where the “ups”were just a little less than the “downs”.  Still, all the windings of the trail were very picturesque.  We had a short rations supper of a few crackers, some peanut butter and Rebars by pretty Mattox Creek.  It had been a long day, and we were tired–it was hard to get up and push on, but we needed more miles.  A look back was encouraging, though–we could see Mt. Gleason and say to ourselves, “Today we climbed that mountain, and now we are all the way down here.” 

By sunset, we’d managed a few more miles, and found a tiny flat spot just big enough for the two of us, a little way above Soledad Canyon.  Down below we could see the lights of the private campgrounds by the river and could even hear some of the noise from them, too.  (We found out later that Josh ‘n Anna & Co. camped down there, just ahead of us, and the campers gave them free BBQ dinners and all they could eat in return for hearing their “trail tales.”  No crackers and peanut butter for them!)

BILL

It is easy to grow old, stiff, weak and overweight. Given time and lack of activity, tying my shoes can become a major challenge for the day. It’s not easy for an older person to reverse habits of inactivity. It is better to work hard not to develop them in the first place.

Just training for the PCT means lots of walking, exercising and stretching. Muscles that were rarely used in my working days rebel against this kind of treatment. Good! This is what I want. I also want to overcome the good life that leaves me shivering on cold days and melting into jello on hot days. I want to be acclimatized to any weather. I want to improve my night vision, only possible where there is little or no light pollution. I want to see my flab disappear. I want to find the limits of my aging body, ignoring its aches and pains. I want to enjoy the mental and physical challenges of meeting the elements on their terms, crossing snow fields, roaring creeks, avoiding strikes from lighting storms that frequent the crests, outwitting the bears, the ticks, the giardia.

I want to experience the magnificence of the desert, the sierras, the volcanic Cascades, the kaleidoscope of nature’s beauty that is the PCT. I can hear the challenges of the trail calling “come”. I can see its beauty calling “come to me”. I respond, “be patient, I’ll be there in May”.

MONTY

The summer of 2004, we tried an experiment–could two “senior citizens” with gray hair put in 20-plus mile days over steep trails, with a week’s worth of food, in all weather, including our least favorite–heat? Answer: yes, we could! (And a big thank you to Ray Jardine for the concept of hiking with an umbrella when it’s hot–BYOS (Bring Your Own Shade) really works!

Now, amid all the usual busyness of working in AWANA (a great nondenominational, international Christian club for kids!), plus “regular” jobs (Bill is an about-to-retire stationary engineer at the St. Francis Hotel in San Francisco; Monty is a semi-retired ballet costume seamstress/wardrobe mistress), we are involved in all the pre-thruhike details of making gear and clothing, collecting food, planning resupplies, and doing training hikes on the beautiful hills of Marin, Sonoma, and Napa counties of California. We are grateful to God for good health, a wonderful support team (our daughters Mercy and Alexa), and such a great opportunity to explore both the beauty of Creation and the aftermath of Catastrophe (Noah’s Flood) along the PCT.