Guest Post from a Guest Hiker



This is a guest post of a recent section of Dan's hike chronicling a section hiker joining him from Quincy- LaPorte Road to Burney (about 180 miles).  What a life highlight! I learned a few things myself and him, only some of which I'll share here. I will say to every parent: if you have the chance to experience something special, one on one, with your adult son or daughter for 12 days, or any length of time, DO IT! It is a rich, deeply personal highlight of my life.

A few things I learned about Dan:

He is an incredibly fit, fast hiker.

He thinks alot.

He knows the woods and hiking.

A few things I learned about me:

I am not getting younger.

Toenails are superfluous (relearned lesson from my marathon days).

The old goat still has some gas left in the tank.

A few things Dan taught me.

Soak up the experiences.

Enjoying moments, good or bad, is within your control.

Tomorrow is a long way off - do it today and enjoy it now.

7/6
Flew into Reno, rented a car, supplies purchased and off to Belden Hiker Haven (Big shout out to Brenda Braaten, wonderful hostess!) to drop the resupply box. I stopped and bought beer, root beer, gummi bears, a sandwich and ice from local grocery store. They sat cooling on the floor of the car and on to Quincy-LaPorte Rd. @ MM1235 to see if Dan was there. Came around the corner and saw the familiar, though now dingy, green fishing shirt sitting on a rock. Honked loudly and the green shirt turned with a HUGE smile! Jumped out with the cold beer, a root beer and gummis in hand. Amazingly, he seemed more interested in a giving me a big bear hug than the beer. We sat on a big rock drinking the beer (root beer lost out), eating and catching up. He'd arrived just 15 minutes prior after a 27 mile hump by 2:30 - what timing! We drove down to Reno to visit REI and get him some new shoes, a hotel that had laundry (yes, he was trail perfumed) and dinner at the local brewery. I had lined up a ride from Craig's List the next day.

7/7
The next morning our Craig’s list-arranged ride texted he was bailing and offered some weak apology…a**hole! Somewhat earnestly (desperately?) we searched, called lifelines in Florida and came up with Jerry of Jerry’s Taxi Service (neat, older Navy vet with a bunch of stories about Burning Man and the like) to take us back to MM1235 and off we went arriving about 3. My plan was to hump-out at a screaming pace for the first mile or two to scare the younger one into thinking he couldn’t keep up with me. Ah, the folly of an old man! Tore out for the first half mile when the reality of that folly began to crystalize. I paused to adjust my pack (the trusty, old school Kelty external frame, often regarded with a mix of skepticism and wonderment by other hikers over the next 180 miles) and he looked at me with a sly smile. "You can't keep that up."...... "Did I scare you?" I ask hopefully..... "Nope, I can't keep that pace all day, so I knew you couldn't."

  

Sorry the quality of some of the photos isn't up to par, Dan is a much better photographer than his old man. I've got some better ones for the next post.



The rookie (Mile 0) poses with the veteran (Mile 1235), old school external frame and all.






Hey, just checking my land nav, but are you sure this the way?

10 miles later it was getting dark and we selected a (barely flat) sketchy campsite. Without mosquito nets, we would have needed transfusions. Dan said it was the worst campsite he'd had, period. I wake up several times to the sounds of the woods. Some sounds comfort, some cause aprehension, but I like being out in the open. It feels vulnerable, but right. 

By the way, you can't spit through a mosquito net, trust me on that.

Some small pine cones we ran across.

7/8 and 9

A good day for a hike! The views, the smells, the dirt, the water...I'm in heaven. We talk about things banal as well as deep. My dogs begin to bark, but I don't listen. The trail provides....

Some trail magic.

Blow down obstacle.

No problem,..... well not much anyway.

Wow!

Vista after vista.

Nature's art.

Dan the Man enjoying life.

Magical bounty.

Walking through mule's ear and purple flowers.



Snow!

More trail magic.

The descent into Belden is brutal. Steep, hot, dry, poison oak everywhere and so much overgrowth you can’t see the trail or your feet much of the time. And ever so relentlessly down. The trail gives up about 4000 feet of elevation in just over 3 miles. I am slow. I should have gotten the size 14 shoes as my feet swelled and the 13’s suddenly fit perfectly. Except perfectly means my toes hit the front of the shoe wall on any descent. Each step is a pain challenge. Walking backwards helps, but I seldom am able due to the risk of falling….it is a long way down. Did I mention the relentlessness of descent?
We can see the river below. It invites, but remains distant despite my efforts to reel her in. Blisters are raging, I know my toenails aren’t long for the world. Dan is fit and well-experienced. He hides his frustration at my slow-paced hobbling fairly well. He sits and watches me hobble ahead down the switchbacks. A few times he stops and takes pictures, checks the maps/Yogi notes, dawdles. He easily catches up. I’m not terribly happy; sweaty, thirsty and I stink. I bark a bit. We continue and he puts up with me.
I am acutely aware of the gap between our hiking fitness levels. He’s a remarkable hiker. I’m impressed by him. I am slow and feeling it. Am I still tough enough? I know only that I will not stop. I just hope I can hike fast enough in the coming days for him not to regret having me along. Flat terrain finally arrives and we cross the railroad tracks to a road above the river. I want to take a swim, but my feet and toes dissuade me due to the descent required to get to the river (only about 20 feet, but steep.) That and the call of the café.

I have my first ‘trail-qualified’ town meal….what else but a big, fat, deliciously greasy burger and Fat Tire drafts….sitting outside watching the cool river. Bliss. No really, bliss. A Navy bath in the restroom, outside on a deck over the river, tired, the promise of a shower at the hostel, and sharing an earned meal/beer with my son.

Belden comes with a map/notes warning that it is weird. Can’t explain why, but I get it. Different vibe in that town: not at the Braatens, just the town.

A quick call to the Braatens and Brenda arrives to take us to Hiker Haven. She is an angel! We camp outside because it is full. I shower. My feet are a mess. I get my first extended time in the company of through hikers. They are by and large a crunchy, bulgar wheat sort. But physically tough, driven and goal-oriented. The contrast surprises me. Definitely not main-stream and different than the AT hikers I’m accustomed to.

7/10

We hike 1/2 mile to the Caribou Crossroads to wash clothes and get a good breakfast The sign boasted the best shakes on the PCT, I'm a believer. Never had breakfast with a really great boysenberry milkshake before, or any boysenberry shake at all. Back at the Braaten’s, I get out my old running shoes I’d packed as backup/camp shoes and cut holes for my toes. They feel good. My light-weight hikers are reduced to dead weight in the pack. Dan can't believe I packed extra shoes and is bewlidered I am keeping the ones that caused the toe injuries in the pack. One of many head shakes directed my way.

We unpack the supplies I’d dropped off 3 days earlier. We have too much and decide to mail a package ahead. I call the Post Office and verify they are open till 5. We create a box with about 10 lbs of food and gear. I sneak the heavy peanut butter and Nutella jars out of Dan's pack in my pack. My pack weighs significantly more than Dan’s. The Braaten’s scale says 35 lbs. Without water.
I discard several foolishly included items like deodorant. I begin to embrace my hikerness a bit. We finish packing and walk 1.5 miles down the road, dodging speeding logging trucks by stepping over the rail. My “At least it is on the road…” is met by Dan stating road hiking isn't easier than the trail or fun. He is right. He carries the box first. I take it, insisting on carrying it the rest of the way. Dan sees through me, shakes his head and tells me to quit try to prove I’m tough. I don’t give it back to him.

My feet feel much better in my new ‘old’ shoes. The post office finally appears up a hill. Closed. It is only 2PM and the sign says closed. I hit redial on my phone and a lady answers "Quincy Post Office, I how may I help you?" I realize I’d dialed Quincy instead of Belden. We face a 7 mile climb with 5000 feet of elevation gain to start today. A wildfire a few years back removed any shade. We have too much food and weight. We take the good stuff from our box, add it to our packs and add to a small pile of food some other hiker began before us. He discovers I’ve taken the PB and Nutella. Several times over the trip we each try to sneakily carry them.  We leave a lot, but ultimately, our packs still weigh more. My mistake has cost us. It is not grave, but backpacking doesn’t have a great margin for error. I knew this, but have learned it again.

We begin the ascent. I am so much better going up. My energy tank full, I yearn for all elevation gain with no descent. The trail beckons...more to come.