Pacific Crest Trail Section O - May 18th - 25th. 2015
Burney Falls St. Park. to Castle Crags/Castella, CA
Distance: (One Way) 82.2 mi.
Total Elevation Gain: 17,969 ft.
Total Elevation Loss: 18,764 ft
Highest Elevation: 5,050 ft.
Dogs: Allowed, but logistically difficult
Difficulty: Easy-Moderate
As we ran away from the creepy guy asking us about badgers we felt amazing. We'd made it the first three days without injury, without even feeling terribly sore. We'd taken a nice break and were definitely prepared for the remaining 5 or so miles till we got to camp. The days were long, so even though it was early evening there seemed to be plenty of light left. We crossed a beautiful dam, and did a fair amount of easy-moderate uphill. My stomach was not happy about going uphill almost immediately after our break and I was pretty nauseous for the next hour. Despite this we still did it and morale wasn't terrible even with it being the first real uphill (later we would define uphill differently) of the trip.
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| Lake Britton near Burney Falls |
We hiked in the dusk, trying not to step on multiple small brown and black snakes that were sluggish with the onset of evening. I damn near stepped on one, and it freaked out and I leaped clear of it. I honestly am not sure what kind of snakes they were. I'm just glad it was cool enough that they mostly weren't interested in us.
Shortly after this we ran into another person for the first time. He was a mountain biker. Now, mountain bikes (or any other kind of wheeled device) are not allowed on the PCT. In fact it was a point of pride in the Yogi guide book that whenever she ran into a mountain biker she planted her feet firmly in the middle of the trail and refused to budge, forcing the biker to dismount and move for her. Chris and I aren't quite so rigid, but we understand why they really aren't allowed. They tend to erode the trail, and coming around blind corners (often with little room for others to pass) is dangerous, particularly if one of you is hurtling around the corner on a bike. This man however was the picture of politeness, he practically flew off his bike, apologizing profusely about how he hadn't expected anybody to be out it was so early in the season, he'd just been trying to get some alone time while visiting family, and so on. He was really nice, and we chose not to lecture him, since he obviously knew he technically shouldn't be out there. Honestly we were just impressed that he was able to bike in this area, since it seemed to us to be pretty perilous for mountain biking.
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| Dam at Lake Britton |
We kept along, but we started to get really tired. By this time the light was starting to fade fast. We were close to camp, but as I've mentioned, time is funny. The first 3.5 miles after Burney Falls had flown by, but the last 1.5 miles seemed to take forever. We crossed a bridge with a series of waterfalls, which is apparently one of the best places to swim on the trail, but it was too dark and we were too tired to really want to swim. After the bridge there's a short uphill and we made our final push into the trees where there was supposed to be a place to camp. As we made it to the treeline it started to drizzle. Under the trees it was no longer dusk, but night. We looked around for a place to set up camp, if there were established campsites we didn't see them, but pine needles are warm and we settled on a nice flat space is a shallow draw. By this time it was genuinely raining.
We were not really feeling up to cooking in the rain and the dark, so we hung our bear bag and got in the tent. Our sleep clothes were still damp from washing, but we put them on anyway and hung out outside of our sleeping bags while they finished drying. It had been a long day, but we'd gone 48 miles in 3 days, which was better than expected, so we went to sleep happy.
Our happiness faded as soon as we woke up though... Our blisters had taken vengeance on us and were pretty bad. But worst of all, in our flight from the creepy dude at the park Chris had not really paid much attention to what he was packing and had left his only pair of long pants and his only long shirt lying on a rock drying. He was really bummed when he figured it out as we packed up camp that morning. We decided the best course of action would be to call the park as soon as we got signal. He walked up to the top of a nearby hill to see if we could manage it before we started hiking for the day, but no luck. So we struck camp and headed on hoping we'd find a place with signal.
After a little while we got to an open space and Chris could see a cell tower in the distance. Sure enough we had signal. Chris called the park and got the sweetest park docent ever. Her name was Gloria. If you are ever at Burney Falls and meet a woman named Gloria, hug her (non-creepily, please), tell her how wonderful she is. This is how Chris' conversation with Gloria went:
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| Shastina |
Chris: Hi, um, I'm a PCT hiker and I was drying some clothes at the picnic shelter yesterday and I'm pretty sure I left them there.
Gloria (with a slight southern accent): Oh darlin' that's too bad! Let me go check if they're still there.
[pause] They're still here, but they're soaking wet from the rain last night. I'll tell you what I'll do. I'll go ahead and throw them in the dryer here at the park and then I'll send them to you!
Chris: Oh that would be great, let me give you my credit card number so I can pay for the shipping.
Gloria: Oh no hon, it'll be my treat.
When we got to Castella/Castle Crags Chris' clothes were there, along with some granola bars, and OHMYGOD those clothes smelled so good. For days I would just smell them, and it was not weird, not weird at all.
After speaking with Gloria, and making a quick call to my Mom we started again. About an hour later my foot started hurting really bad. Chris' ankle was also hurting him. Both of us are stubborn and independent though, so neither of us mentioned it. A couple of hours later it turned out they both hurt a lot. I gasped that I needed a break, and promptly started crying, convinced that I was injured and I was ruining the trip. As far as we can figure I had strained a muscle in the arch of my foot, it continued to hurt for the next few days, but the first day was the worst. I took some medication, waited 20 minutes and we started again, but within an hour I had to stop for the day since my foot was so bad I could barely walk and every few minutes streaks of intense pain would flare through my foot.
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| Early view of Shasta |
We camped in a nice little grove off the trail that had a fire pit. We were both completely drenched since the on and off showers during the day and the rain from the night before had soaked all the foliage, which was overgrown and had, in turn, soaked us. So we tried to dry off, but eventually gave up and made dinner. Chris had decided to eat dinner on his sleeping pad, and Murphy's law being as powerful as it is, he spilled food all over it. We cleaned it off at one end of camp, and then Chris hung the bear bag in the opposite direction on the other side of camp. Miraculously we were not consumed by bears.
Chris had his first (but not his last) cold night. It was bare ground and Chris had decided on a 30-degree bag, since he typically runs hot. This was a mistake. Whether it was his metabolism gone haywire from all the exercise or if his body had just decided to stop producing heat Chris was very cold.
The next morning we both felt better, except I had inexplicably developed a rash, which looked like poison oak, in my armpits and inner thighs, despite the fact that I had been wearing long sleeves and pants. I decided my body was revolting against our forced march, but I was not about to let it dictate my future! No matter how broken it got!
So despite our aches, pains, blisters and rashes we started hiking. We had now been soaking wet for three consecutive days, and our clothes which we had washed were still damp and in no hope of drying out. It continued to rain periodically through the day. We kept seeing animal poop, I was convinced it was bear poop and Chris was sure it was horse poop. I was correct.
We also crossed a section of trail on a steep embankment, that was narrow and eroded. It was probably one of the more treacherous parts of the trail, particularly so given the rain, but we made it across. We rounded a corner and came face to face with a guy who was just starting out as well, and planning on heading south to Kennedy Meadows. We chatted for a moment, it turned out he had seen a number of black bear over the previous couple days (hence my being correct). We parted, at this point there was a lot of bear poop around, so we started to listen to music, partly because it helped take my mind off my hurt foot, and partly because it announced our presence to the bears.
Then the thunder started. Far away at first, but definitely moving closer. We still had a few miles to cover so we tried to speed up a bit, but it was definitely catching up to us. We came to a wide open field just as the storm caught up to us in earnest. We almost sprinted across it, both chanting a litany of pleasedon'tstrikeusdeadpleasedon'tstrikeusdead. We got across safely, but by now I was grinding my teeth just to deal with the pain in my foot.
We were about half a mile from camp when the storm kicked us in the teeth. It started sleeting, there was small hail and in between, the rain poured down in big, fat, furious drops. We missed the turn off for our campsite (which was on a spur trail) and had to backtrack. Eventually we made it to camp, and tried to keep everything as dry as possible while we set up. I was freezing and Chris ended up cooking and hanging the bear bag himself. He could barely light the stove for dinner, which we ate huddled under a tree.
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| Chris |
As we settled in for the night we noticed something, disconcerting to say the least... The rainfly was leaking. The rain wasn't pouring in on us, but there were half a dozen spots where there was a periodic, but steady, drip. Fuck. We were concerned about what would happen if our sleeping bags got wet, so we decided to put our emergency blanket over us, thinking that the water would run off it and not get on our bags. This was a terrible idea.
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| Allison |
If we had really stopped to think about it, we would have realized that there was bound to be condensation on the inside of the blanket. But we didn't. Luckily I got up to pee before falling asleep and noticed that instead of keeping us dry, the tops of our sleeping bags were completely wet. However, it had not soaked through and the insides of our bags both stayed dry all night. We ditched the emergency blanket and finally got some sleep. We decided that next time it would have to go between the tent and the rain fly, and there was definitely a "next time".
The next morning we spent trying to dry out our gear, but we eventually gave up. I was a big grumpy pants that morning between being damp and my foot hurting right off the bat. But we got started, and after a couple of hours the sun started to peek out. We ran into our second hiker "Mushroom Man" who was really nice, and actually knew about Gualala, CA. Not long after that the sun came out in earnest. We immediately stopped and spread out all our things to dry. We got our first real views of Shasta over the next few hours.
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| California Kendall Katwalk |
Statistically this had been our hardest day so far, and we absolutely killed it! With hurt feet! ...which was probably stupid. Behind us we could see a mountain in the distance that we had been equal with! This became one of our favorite ways of measuring accomplishments. We eventually started taking pictures of the mountains ahead of us, while we stood on a mountain, and then photographed that mountain from the one we had originally photographed. We are huge geeks.
We got to what we call the California Kendall Catwalk, and it was glorious.
Afterward, we had to cross some fallen high voltage power lines, which made us nervous. For the next half hour we wondered if we were in Jurassic Park. We were not. Also, if you don't understand that reference, go watch Jurassic Park like 20 times. We got to this awesome campsite at Deer Creek. Between the campsite and the views earlier in the day we both felt totally happy and rejuvenated (being dry also probably contributed).
The next morning Chris' foot was hurting really bad and mine was weirdly better. I wondered if I was transferring my ailments to Chris, and then decided that would have been a great plot for Are You Afraid of the Dark? We decided to take our first zero day here, we spent all day in our sleeping bags and I read out loud to Chris the WHOLE time.
The next day we just cruised downhill and the miles went by quickly. We got to Ash Camp, after passing a really creepy old truck in the middle of the woods, and were very, very thankful we hadn't planned to stay there as it was FULL of people. We planned to stay at Fitzhugh gulch creek, but when we got there we both felt really good and there were mosquitoes so we decided we could go further.
Further ended up meaning one of our bigger uphill climbs in California.
We could hear bears (though possibly a mountain lion) huffing in the distance... then closer. When we were got to our campsite we could hear two of them, one on either side of us. The campsite itself, was pretty crappy (it is in an abandoned road bed) and there were TONS of mosquitoes, so we just dove into the tent and skipped dinner. Chris was awake almost the whole night, worrying about being attacked by mountain lions, I slept like a baby. This became a theme for the rest of the hike.
The next morning we got started and almost immediately ran into 3 unattended teenagers, who didn't know what direction north was. They were separated from their adults, we found out later that this was because it took them three hours to strike camp and their (grand)parents finally got completely fed up and left. This is excellent parenting (not sarcastic). When we met the adults, they were super nice and gave us a good tip about a swimming hole a few miles away. I decided that if this was an episode of Supernatural, they would be pagan gods about to eat those kids.
We had lunch at the swimming hole at Squaw Valley Creek, but the water was very cold and the best I could do was just dunk myself. The uphill began immediately after and it was a serious struggle for me. It took about a week before I decided that I can't eat before uphill.
Our campsite was at the top of the hill. We set up camp, it looked like a nice place. IT IS NOT A NICE PLACE.
Welcome to Plague Camp.
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| Allison @ Squaw Valley Creek |
Literally within minutes of us setting up the tent we noticed that the whole place, including all of our gear, was swarming with ants. I don't mean like a couple dozen. I mean hundreds. We figured we must have put our stuff on an ant hill, so we moved everything to a campsite on the other side of the trail. It didn't help. The ants just seemed to get more enraged. Everything was covered with ants, and they decided we were their sworn enemy. They were climbing all over us and biting us.
Then the mosquitoes arrived.
We ate dinner pacing back and forth. I was so sick with exhaustion and barely being able to eat (I had not managed to eat more than a half of my share of our dinner since the beginning of the hike). The next morning there were still tons of ants on our gear, and some mosquitoes. We spent about 20 minutes killing them and/or brushing them off. We didn't even try to eat breakfast, we just ran.
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| Castle Crags |
We ended up making breakfast (peanut butter wraps) sitting on a forest road a few miles away. My mom had bought us this "honey" powder (lies) and while it was okay, we thought it might be good if we mixed it with water to get a more honey-like consistency. This was a huge mistake. It turned into this horrible, gelatinous sweet, but tasteless, honey-ish pudding. My stomach had been on the fritz for days now, and it was having NOTHING to do with this atrocity.
We packed up and started the descent to Castle Crags. It started to rain, and at first just seemed like a summer shower. Warm, brief and refreshing. I was happy, it felt so nice and the area we were walking through looked so much like home (Sea Ranch) I just felt great. The rain stopped for a bit.
At this point we also made the serious error of not taking the frontage road into Castella, but continuing on the trail into Castle Crags State Park. DO NOT DO THIS. The frontage road may be ugly, but it is flat. The trail is not, you basically have to climb up a bunch of hills and then descend again, on a fire road, just to get back down to the campground and Ammirati's (re-supply location). About 10 minutes after we realized our mistake, and about 5 minutes after we realized it didn't make sense to go back, the rain returned with a vengeance. It was accompanied by its muscle: Thunder. Big thunder. RIGHT ON FUCKING TOP OF US.
There were also some serious mileage problems with Yogi's books. Her town maps are pretty much a joke, and while it may seem like the frontage road and the trail are equidistant they are not. We ended up doing a 17 mile day on a day that we had planned on being short.
I was done. I was exhausted, my foot was hurt, I hadn't eaten breakfast or dinner the night before, all of my clothes were completely soaked through and I was starting to get cold. This was bad. I basically had a trail meltdown, it was completely selfish. I realized moments afterward that Chris was probably having as hard a time as I was, and I had added to that by being a mess. I apologized, sucked it up and we eventually hobbled into camp. I could barely walk for the rest of the day, but at least we had arrived.
