Sat. Oct. 1    Miles today: 10     Total so far: 2,511.8     Miles to go: 128      No. CA Section P     Etna

Well, all I can say is that God lost no time in showing us what He wanted us to do!  Last night, when we went to bed, it was a pleasant, warm evening, with a sky full of stars and a nice breeze.  How could we have guessed that in a matter of hours we’d be in the middle of a howling storm?  It started with the breeze turning into wind.  It didn’t bother us–we were warm and comfy in our sleeping bags–but then the wind got stronger till it was really gusting, and our food bags hung so high in the tree began to swing wildly.  Bill got concerned that they might be torn or damaged, so he got up and took them down and like good thruhikers, we put those bags right by our heads and vowed, “Any bear that tries to get MY food is in for trouble!” 

Meanwhile the wind increased to the point where it was actually howling and screaming, and our lovely skyfull of stars was being erased by clouds.  We didn’t sleep much for the rest of the night, but lay there listening to the unbelievable wind noise.  There was no rain, no lightning–just the wind, shrieking and screaming.   I thought about John Muir, who would have loved it, I’m sure, and also of an old hymn that goes, “Thou rushing wind that art so strong, blowing the clouds in heaven along, oh praise Him, hallelujah!”  I thought of how Jesus said to a fierce storm wind, “Peace, be still,” and it obeyed Him.  I didn’t figure THIS wind would ever obey ME, though, if I were bold enough to tell it to stop!  But oh my–I did figure we would have a wild time hiking in the morning!

At 6:10 am, when it was time to get up in the predawn darkness, just as we were dressed and starting to pack up, it began to rain, and before we could stuff our gear into our packs, everything got wet, while the wind kept on with screaming and howling.  What to do was now VERY obvious!  We needed to make tracks for the road to Etna, 10 miles away!   Not only was the wind fierce and the rain pelting down, but the temperature was dropping fast.  It was very cold, and getting colder.  To stay warm, we hurried along as fast as we could.  Praise God, the trail was easy going for Bill–if it had been another uphill, he would have really had problems.  After an hour of fast walking, we were both starving hungry–even Bill–so we huddled under a tree to gobble up some granola.  In spite of the storm, I cold not help admiring a golden “meadow’ of bracken fern nearby. 

The PCT in this last part of Section P is sometimes in forest and sometimes on hillside or crest.  Walking through a storm in the forest is pretty drippy, but out on the hillsides, yikes!  The wind was so hard that it was literally blowing us around, and we were sort of staggering down the trail.    Fortunately, the rain was sporadic, so it didn’t rain ALL the time.  Sometimes we were pushing through what amounted to “cloud drip” that was blowing sideways in the fierce wind.  The temperature continued to drop, down into the upper 30’s, and Bill got colder and colder, till he started getting the “freezing hands” that he normally only has during packup on cold mornings.  Since the trail was so easy, we tried actually sort of running to try to warm him up. 

The PCT crosses the road to Etna at the top of a ridge, and when we finally got there, we could not even see the famous Marble Mountains just ahead.  We were in clouds that were being blown rapidly sideways by the howling wind.  No way would we even remotely consider going on.  Bill was obviously starting to feel some hypothermia, and it would be dangerous to continue, especially with all our gear and sleeping bags already wet.  I suggested that Bill wait in a sheltered place out of the wind while I stood by the highway to hitch us a ride, but he insisted on staying with me.  So there we were, in a howling storm, standing by a sign shot full of bullet holes and no cars in sight. 

It took 20 minutes or more before a guy came along in a pickup truck, and he pulled right over the minute he saw us!  We tossed our packs in back and he very kindly cranked up his heater so Bill could put his cold hands right next to it.  It turned out that this gentleman’s family had been living in this area since 1849!  His “something-great” grandpa sailed around the Horn to get in on the Gold Rush, but wisely ended up starting a trading post instead.  He said that this area is the best place in the world to live.  And he dropped us off right at the Alderwood B & B in own, where the PCT-famous Hiker Hut is located in what used to be a barn.

The Alderwood owners were not at home, but the Hut was not locked, and we walked right in.  Wow!  Flags of many countries hung from the ceiling or were tacked to the walls.  There were sturdy bunks, comfy chairs, bathroom with shower, a fridge, etc.  Basically, it’s a very homey hostel.  After cleaning up a bit, Bill and I stowed our packs in the Hut and walked down Main Street to find a restaurant. A friendly lady recommended Bob’s Ranch House–“A bit of a walk, but worth it.”  Well, we know how to walk, and our view of the still-stormy skies over the mountains made us glad to be down in the cloudy-but-warm Scott Valley!  Bob’s turned out to be wondeful, and we ate like pigs.  Yum!  Walking back to the Hiker Hut, we saw a whole herd of deer right in town in the front yard of a house!  We’d met some hunters while hurryng down the trail this morning, and we figured these were really SMART deer.  They figured out that no one would shoot them in town!

When we got back, the Harrisons (Dave and Vicki) were back, and very surprised to see us.  They hadn’t had a hiker come through in 3 weeks, and had been renting the Hut to some construction workers from Sunday-Thursday.  So they said we could use it tonight but tomorrow we’d have to be out.  No problem–they had plenty of room in the B & B, and the storm was supposed to be over by Monday, so then we could head back to the trail.  Meanwhile, we helped Dave move a bigger fridge into the Hut, then I tried to do our laundry, but the machine wouldn’t work.  Expert laundry engineer Bill quickly diagnosed the problem–the machine needed a new belt.  So Vicki took our grubby, sodden laundry into the house and washed and  it for us in her own machine!  Superkind lady!  She also brought us all the makings for a big breakfast.  (It’s $20 per hker here for staying at the Hut–but you have to fix your own breakfast!).  She also gave us the Hut’s hiker register, which was full of raptures about Etna and the Hut, and complaints about Seiad Valley, which is our next (and last) resupply. 

Bill and I both then took showers ( Oh man did it feel good to be CLEAN!) and Bill had me take a picture of him all boney and skinny.  We spread our wet gear all over the chairs in the side yard, where it quickly dried in the warm afternoon breeze.  Then Dave and Vicki went off with friends, while Bill and I went to The Trailhead restaurant, for a huge salad each and some local beer.  Next door, the local little theatre group was putting on a spoof about pirates.  It looked like a fun show, but it was just about to start, and we needed to eat much more than we needed to be entertained.  Bill was looking much better.  He said his appetite was back and he was feeling MUCH improved.

And boy, did it feel good to lie down on a bed, under a roof.  A last look to the mountains before it got too dark to see showed that they were all hidden in clouds and the storm was still “on.”  I had to thank the Lord tonight for showing us so clearly what He wanted us to do.  I really hoped that the rest and good town food would make a difference for Bill.  And best of all–we get to go to church tomorrow.  Hooray!

Fri. Sept. 30      Miles today: 22.7     Total so far: 2,501.9     Miles to go: 138     No. CA Section P

The smell of smoke grew stronger and stronger during the night last night, and we could see a lot of smoke (especially to the south) when we got up on this very clear and pleasant morning.  I was so grateful to God for the gorgeous weather we’ve been having, since Bill has been feeling so ill.  If we’d had to cope with Bill being sick, PLUS rain or snow, it would have been pretty tough. 

Because of all the smoke in the air, we had a “red ball in the sky” type sunrise.  We ate breakfast on a very rocky part of the PCT, where the rocks do a radical color change–freshly broken off rocks are BLACK, but after a bit of weathering, their surface turns reddish BROWN.  I was looking at those fascinating rocks, and commenting, “I guess these rocks must have quite a bit of iron in them?  Could it be these are rusting rocks?”  And that’s when I suddenly realized that my BRAIN must be rusting, too, because it wasn’t till then that I remembered the socks I rinsed out last night and so carefully hung on a tree.  In the early morning dark when we were breaking camp and loading our packs, I completely forgot them, and didn’t see them because of the dark.  But there was no time to make the long trip back to get them.  With only six more days of walking after today, I decided I could manage with the couple of pairs of socks I had left.  But I was annoyed with myself for forgetting, and when Bill decided that his still-queasy stomach would do better with WARM milk on the breakfast granola (which meant rummaging out the stove, etc.) I was clumsy and spilled some of it.  Now I was definitely not a happy hiker! 

I tried to make the best of it though, as we headed on.  I was now totally out of water and it was some time till we’d reach another spring.  And the trail didn’t cooperate, either.  It went up and up, and was very rocky.  There was so much smoke in the air that our views were obscured, but at least we could make out some pretty blue lakes down below us.  I was VERY glad when we finally reached the small trailside spring to find that it was still running, though just barely.  To get water into my bottle, I had to direct it in with my fingers, and it was COLD water!  Brrr–I had freezing fingers before I finally finished.  But man, did it taste good!

We finally reached a crest with awesome views on both sides.  To the north was the Scott River Valley, hazy with smoke, but we could still make out the fields and farms.  Turning around, we had a great, though smoky, view of the Trinity Alps.  Farther on, we could see Mt. Thompson, with snow still resting on its upper slopes.  And we weren’t the only ones enjoying the pretty meadows and mellow autumn sunlight–so were the cows!  We could often hear their bells, and once we actually MET some.  The cows’ first reaction was to run from us, but then they skidded to a halt, turned around, and stared at us as we walked by.  I guess they were thinking, “Aw, no big deal–it’s just hikers.”

Eventually we crossed the Scott River and reached Forest Road 93, which was being paved–there was a flagman and one-way traffic.  Then it was just climb and climb, for a long time, up into the Russian Wilderness.  These climbs are hard for Bill.  He still felt weak and had to walk very slowly, with a lot of stops to rest.  (As a result of all the climbs, our mileage today ws barely the “22 mile quota,” but it was enough to put us over the 2,500 mile mark.  Thankyou, Lord!)  The PCT in Russian Wildernes runs north for miles along a ridge.  There were views of row upon row of ridges, blue with smoke.  Far down below us in the valley, I heard a train!  (Or maybe a truck with one of those “train-sounding” horns??)  Sometimes there were steep meadows on the hillside, with drying-out wildflowers. 

But one part was quite dramatic!  The Russian Wilderness is granitic rock, with huge formations that look like the High Sierra.  This particular part was a huge gray cliff, with the trail blasted out of its side.  Scaaaaaary for me!  It was one of those things where I just put my head down and concentrate on the trail right in front of me, without looking right or left, and ask Bill, “Please don’t talk to me till we get through this part”.   Bill of course, had no problems with it!  He doesn’t mind big dropoffs right by the trail.

The afternoon turned into almost-sunset, and there we were, still following the PCT as it contoured and contoured along the steep, rocky side of the ridge.  There was not a single little flat place for a campsite anywhere, and no way would we camp ON the trail–there was too much evidence (some quite fresh!) that a bear was doing a regular “commute run” on the PCT tread.  Finally, with the light fading fast, we two now-desperate hikers reached the top of the ridge, found a flat campsite and hung our food bags high.  Since it was almost dark, and it was a nice warm evening, we didn’t bother to rig the tarp, but just cleaned ourselves up a bit and crawled into our sleeping bags. 

I had some thinking to do before going to sleep.  Bill was talking during the day of maybe making a detour off the trail when we reached the road down to Etna, instead of going straight through to Seiad Valley as we’d planned.  He said he desperately needs to rest and does not feel well.  I keep looking at the calendar, though, and being concerned about weather.  I would like to keep hiking as much as we can while this good weather holds.  Normally we could finish in 5 or 6 days from now, but Bill’s health has put a huge looming question mark over everything.  All I could do, in conclusion, was to trust God for His timing and that He would show us what to do.