PCT Day 42
June 11 2021
Mile: 478.2 to 498.2
Start: Green Valley Fire Station camping under some pine trees
Finish: Sawmill campground
I must have needed the extra sleep this morning because I didn’t wake up until a very late hour of 8:30am, much later than the 5am that we had talked about waking up that last night. I felt almost hungover and groggy from dehydration but not as nauseous as I was yesterday which was a good sign. We took our time leaving camp this morning because there was not a lot of shade for the next 20 miles and I wasn’t sure if I was entirely better from getting slightly dehydrated last night. I drank lots of water and ate some tepid thin oatmeal to see if I could keep it down. After everything seemed fine and my oatmeal stayed down, around 9:30am we bushwhacked our way back to the PCT.
The firefighters at the station down below were staging some sort of drill, which was cool to watch. The morning hike wasn’t too bad and we actually had some shade for once since this side of the mountain hadn’t burned down. It seems like everyday we go through at least one section of trail that was burnt to the ground by forest fire! The trail crossed what looked like a ski slope but what was actually probably a fire break to slow the fires down and the area. The vegetation had been stripped and cut away for a huge 50 to 100-foot-long swath of dirt cut through the mountainside. We pretended to ski on the “ski slope” (aka the fire break) and momentarily contemplated taking the bulldozer nearby for a joyride but decided against it as we probably get into too much trouble.
The Pacific Crest Trail signs today had lots of bullet holes in them, which was entertaining. I guess we’re in the middle of nowhere and the locals are bored so what better to do than shoot up the trail signs in the backwoods? We came down to a section of trail that had just reopened a few days ago after being closed for I think several years because of forest fire. Before the drought and fires, it looked as though the land used to have lots of shade trees with green leaves and a flowing creek. Now, this landscape was skeletal with charred black crooked tree limbs hung eerily in the blank desert sky, the creek long dried up into sand and the shade gone. It was a little depressing but we tried to find the beauty in the remnants of the forest.
We hiked slowly up the slopes having guesstimated where on the mountain the spring would be the only reliable water for the next 20+ miles. You could see the darker green patch of bushes and lush grass and trees where the spring slowly trickled down the mountainside so darn far away. It felt like hiking to the spring was going to take forever on the exposed desert hillsides. The terrain was pretty tough today and you would take two steps forward in the hot sandy trail only to slide backwards in the one step. Another couple steps forward in the soft sand, slide back again, wipe the sweat away and repeat up the mountain. My cursing was the only thing that broke the monotony of trudging up the mountain in the heat, two steps forward, one step backwards.
We passed by a huge field of poison oak, and it was depressing to see it as the only green plant out here that seemed to be flourishing after having survived the wildfires. Old rusted mining equipment next to the side of the trail was twisted and bent along itself and remnants of failed mining operations littered the ground next to the trail. We came across some old caves dug by miners long ago to see if they were prospects for gold mining. The caves were all along either side of the trail and luckily we were able to duck into one cave that was large enough to scramble into and stand up. Like little gremlins, we were able to scoot into one of the dusty caves to get some much needed relief from the brutal noonday sun. Even though it was the largest cave we passed, you still had to duck down a bit to not hit your head. The cave went back maybe 75 or 100 feet deep and we were able to hang out in the shade, getting out of the brutal sun and carefully watching our feet for rattlesnakes in the cave before heading in. We did a search for rattlesnakes and rats in the cave but all we found was just a lot of rat poop and some recently made clay pottery. At least it was shady!
We lingered momentarily in the cave, creeping about in the darkness like we were Smeagol from Lord of the Rings. Reluctantly we returned to the brutal sun, our water bottles hissing with steam after being out in the direct sunlight for 10 minutes. We continued up the last uphill mile before the spring and hoped that it was still flowing. After what seemed like forever, we arrived at a muddy patch of trail. The GPS said that this was the spring and digging through the muddy hillside and plants we uncovered a sluggish but clear spring dribbling out of the side of the mountain. The dripping water formed a mud hole that spanned the trail and despite the spring not exactly gushing out of the mountain, it was still water and we stopped to collect and filter water.
Shannon and I squeezed our way into a tiny bit of disappearing shade on the side of the PCT next to a steep drop off. We carefully made some lunch, trying not to get poked in the butt by spines and sharp rocks or drop anything off the cliff and refreshed our thirst with electrolyte drinks in the teeny tiny shaded spot. It wasn’t the most comfortable lunch that I’ve ever had but the shade did its job keeping us cool.
That afternoon we spent wandering the ashy black sand deserts that had recently been burned by fire and just reopened to hiking recently. Part of the trail had been eroded away by landslides and if you stepped off the path to go to the bathroom, for instance, you’d sink nearly calf deep in thick layers of fine, silty ash. Stepping off the trail was a little nervewracking because it was almost like being in quicksand and you just didn’t know how deep you’d sink in the soft sand and ash.
There was no shade all afternoon because entire hillsides had burned the trees to nothingness and the late afternoon sun was relentless. We lost the trail several times during the eary evening and had to scout out steps in the ash and fallen logs. It was quite difficult trying to navigate the new trail as all signs had burned down, the GPS track no longer mattered because of landslides and there were only a few blown over sandy steps that sometimes split into two or three trails.
We finally made it to Sawmill Campsite which was absolutely a godsend after such a slog all day. The campsite was absolutely gorgeous in the setting sun and also had a beautifully clean bathroom that smelled like lilacs. It was a very welcome rest stop after spending all day in the brutal sun, with no shade and trying not to fall into quicksand and ash pits. We were the only humans at the entire forest service campground and chowed down on dinner at a real picnic table. Soon after we headed to sleep in our tent that was set up in a soft field of grass. We hung up our food in a tall oak tree as the sun slowly set and scrambled into our tent.
Around 10pm, a hiker came by our tent flashing his headlamp at us which got us a little on edge because it seemed as though he was scoping out our tent, which was kind of weird. He left finally which was good because I almost went out to confront him with pepper spray in hand. Maybe he was just tired and lost – who knows. The rest of the night was uneventful and peaceful.
