The PCT Volume 31: The Yin and the Yang

[Brad Young]

In Chinese philosophy "yin and yang" describes how opposite or contrary forces are actually complementary, interconnected, and interdependent in the natural world; how opposites actually give rise to each other as they interrelate. In my American experience the phrase is used as a general description, sometimes ironically, when parts of one event turn out to be polar opposites.

That's what happened on this trip; easy and hard, hot and cold, brushy and rough trail tread and "trail tread" that was literally a state highway.

We had a great time, starting with too much heat.

Thursday, July 7:

It's becoming a long drive up to the trail again. Tricia thought to take this shot out the rear window as Mount Shasta recedes while we're still driving to the trail:




We stayed in the town of Etna and had a short drive to the trailhead after breakfast. Etna Summit is open and airy:




The girls waited patiently:




Soon we were off for four days; destination Grider Creek Campground (and Vicki) in 49.7 miles:













Tricia signed us in to one of the trail registers that seem to be placed randomly on the PCT every hundred miles or so:







We stayed up high on ridge-lines for the most part (and about a mile after the register we passed PCT mile 1,600, but couldn't see any indication of it of any kind):







At one point we crossed a ridge crest and, dramatically, we could see where the next nine miles of trail went - along the near side of the ridge that makes up the opposite side of this valley (and it keeps going way out of the photo):




Here's the same valley from later in the hike, looking back:




It was fairly hot (low 80s) and we were in the sun. The hiking included a fair amount of uphill (with loads):




We diverted for lunch and then water at Cub Bear Spring:




But (it turned out) we weren't drinking or resting nearly enough. We eventually made it just over 14 miles to tiny Fisher Lake, but I for one was really tired.

Half of us went for a swim:




The other half (Tricia and I) just didn't feel well. Tricia, in particular, had a headache, felt nauseous and, for two hours was on the verge of throwing up. Still, we had to set up camp, get water treated and try to eat:




While we both managed to drink water and rest, we couldn't eat much. We continued to just rest. As we did so I had the bright idea that maybe we both had some level of heat exhaustion. She usually didn't feel nauseous at random. Neither of us was usually missing an appetite. Maybe in the eagerness of a new trip we'd overdone it?

Eventually it was nearing dark, so we let the girls into the tent and laid down to sleep:




It might be hard the next day to hike without fuel, but at least we'd get sleep. We'd see what came with the morning (and from what we'd heard, we were pretty sure it wouldn't be heat).

[JC w KC redux]

14 miles with a pack would have crushed me - never mind the heat!
Trail names are funnnnknee.

[mynameismud]

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[Brad Young]

14 miles with a pack would have crushed me - never mind the heat!
Trail names are funnnnknee.

Says the berserker who climbs at Pinns when it's hotter than hell itself   

You are so much tougher than you seem to think you are   

[Brad Young]

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Thank you for the vote of confidence. Obviously these reports take some time (and my damn boss made me go to work today) 

[Brad Young]

Friday, July 8:

We both felt fine at dawn, Tricia had no headache and no nausea. We both ate a good breakfast. And yeah, it wasn't hot.

The National Weather Service weather prediction for today had warned of: "a 70% chance of showers, especially before 11:00 a.m., with accumulations from 1/10 to 1/4 inch." So we came prepared and weren't surprised to wake up to heavy cloud cover.

It sprinkled while we packed:




It rained while we walked past Fisher Lake (in the first quarter mile of the 15 we needed to hike):







We saw "Mordor" in the distance (Tricia's description of this view):




It stopped raining for about 45 minutes after an hour of hiking:




And then it started again. Raining seriously this time, not "sprinkling:"







But we kept on. We had the right gear and had had a good experience on our last trip hiking in significant rain for a whole day (although not with full packs then, and not to a backpacking bivouac):







We were wet and somewhat uncomfortable; the "yang" of the rain and cold left no threat whatsoever of heat exhaustion today.  And there were trail difficulties:










But honestly the "worst" part of the day may have been what we missed. We hiked right past Marble Mountain, Black Marble Mountain, and others nearby. We could tell through the mist and rain that we were on ridge-tops and that, if we could see any distance, we'd see a lot. But we couldn't see that distance.

Still, there were some consolations. A 14 year old's smile as she "toughed it out:"




Spectacular marble formations seen up close:




Her imaginative use of her camera and her love of the beauty of nature:







My style of hiking has always been to keep going; get it done and then relax. We did something today though two thirds of the way through the hike that took patience, calm, and a different approach: at about noon, after 9.9 miles, hungry and needing rest, we set up the tent for shelter. This worked wonderfully. Instead of shoving food down and getting a half-rest, we ate. We rested. Yes, our gear got a little wetter than it would have otherwise, but we knew it was going to be a wet bivy regardless. We also knew that we had the right equipment and that, uncomfortable or not, we'd be fine.

Our afternoon hike was relatively slow. It continued to rain ("hey Weather Service, it's after 11:00 a.m. and these ain't no sprinkles…"). We were wet on the outside but only slightly damp on the inside. And by 6:00 we'd arrived at Paradise Lake as planned.

We settled in (and ate a big dinner). Things were damp (Tricia learned about wet down when her "puffball" turned up wet). But we were where we needed and wanted to be, we were full, and we were warm:

[mudworm]

Thank you for not spelling it as Ying and Yang (like the Reid's book did). I always feel like blowing my nose after I read the wrong spelling just to get the "g" out.

I loved the report too and look forward to reading how you two, esp. T, fared the next day.

T forgot to write down the names of the the other two hikers in the registry, unless Bump and Thunderbird are their nicknames? I wasn't sure because the initials match you and T.

[clink]

The more hiking, the less bump. There is some yingyangage in that.

[Brad Young]

...I always feel like blowing my nose after I read the wrong spelling just to get the "g" out.

Damn, I almost lost my drinking water out my nose when I read that  

T forgot to write down the names of the the other two hikers in the registry, unless Bump and Thunderbird are their nicknames? I wasn't sure because the initials match you and T.

Actually, our "trail names" are indeed "Bump" and Thunderbird." How we came by them is a long story (to some extent). In part that story involves a weird father  

[mudworm]

Ha, you typed the long report faster than I typed my short post!

Yang is usually associated with masculine, big, sun, hot, hard, etc. In other words, the second day's rain is more like the Yin aspect of the weather on your trip.

Actually, our "trail names" are indeed "Bump" and Thunderbird."

Oh, awesome. Can I start calling you Bump from now on? Ever since you teased my about me pronunciation of your name, I have always been a bit self-conscious when I say your name because I honestly couldn't tell the difference between my way of saying it and the correct way. Bump is much easier!

[Brad Young]

Can I start calling you Bump from now on? Ever since you teased me about my pronunciation of your name, I have always been a bit self-conscious when I say your name because I honestly couldn't tell the difference between my way of saying it and the correct way. Bump is much easier!

Of all the people on this site you (and you alone) may of course call me Bump if you find that easier  

[mudworm]

Thanks, Bump! 

[mynameismud]

5.7

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[Brad Young]

Saturday, July 9:

Today the "yang" part of the equation continued, but in a more pleasant way. Instead of cool and wet conditions, we had cold and slightly moist conditions.

It had rained all night:




But we woke up to overcast and damp only, nothing was coming down from the sky:




More "alpine" hiking started the day, and conditions were misty and pretty cold:










We passed trail junctions to exotic places like Turk Lake:




And we started hiking north on Big Ridge (I guess that some names are imaginative and some are descriptive, right?):







We were able to sit and snack without worrying that we'd shiver:




And slowly conditions started to change from damp and cold to just cold. We started to get some vistas from this ridge called "Big:"










And then, lo and behold, the sun came out for a few minutes:







We left the Marble Mountain Wilderness and started heading down to Grider Creek:










It was interesting that we were still getting soaked from the waist down by accumulated water on the brush we passed through:










The downhill brought us into a much lower elevation and into warmer conditions:




And we ended the day with camp set up along Cold Spring Creek, in a clear spot. And, bonus, it was still early in the day and the angle of the sun let us get some rays. We dried stuff out, rested, read, and ate. A nice conclusion to another great day:

[Brad Young]

Sunday, July 10:

Day four was our "see Vicki" day. We love those.

I usually wake up first on these trips, and I did today. And honestly, even those of you who love a cup of coffee first thing in the morning, who wouldn't wake up and smile at this:




We'd planned a less than eight mile walk (with packs) down Grider Creek to Grider Creek Campground. We'd meet Vic there, ditch the packs (in a loving way, of course) and finish the day with pure easy - one of the longest road walks on the whole PCT.

It was "down-in-a-canyon" hiking that started out with no sun:







There were a few obstacles to overcome (two of the hiker bridges over Grider Creek burned down two years ago):




But in general, hiking doesn't get much easier:







As we were driving to Etna Summit on our first day I'd estimated to Vicki that we'd arrive at our rendezvous (four days later) at "about 11:00 a.m." We don't take timepieces on these hikes, but I think I know about how quickly we normally move.

Today we hit the only switchback of the day, dropped down right next to the creek, saw the bridge leading into the campground, and then saw Vicki. Right on time, it was 11:05:










We rested with her for a while (and ate some fresh food). And then we all hiked down the road/PCT together for half a mile:










Eventually Vicki went back for the car and we continued on what can only be described as a stroll (although because of the road and river configurations, some of the stroll was to the south - Canada's not to the south!):
















We got our first glimpse of the Klamath River (big!):







We met with Vicki (and the dogs - we didn't want them walking on the busier part of the roadway) again at California State Highway 96:







Yes, the roadway is the PCT. The Klamath River is big, and although there was some early thought to bridging it for pedestrians and equestrians, it would have cost millions. The Forest Service left the "trail" on the "road." The map looks like this:










Hiking along Highway 96 quickly led to the village of Seiad Valley (population about 350). Seiad is one of the very few towns that the PCT actually passes through. And it goes right down the "main street:"




We came to the town's cafe. This cafe is PCT famous for it's "Pancake Challenge" (more on that one tomorrow):










After another mile we reached the trailhead where the PCT leaves the road and becomes a trail again (and we walked our customary 20 extra feet to ensure overlap and that we never miss a step):







And then we ended the day perfectly. Vicki had found a little resort on the river at Happy Camp, about 16 miles downstream. She drove us there. We checked in, cleaned up, and then enjoyed a perfect evening of relaxation, fresh food and Vicki (and I drank a beer):

[JC w KC redux]

You know how to do it right.
Nice writing and a great ending pic of you in the Adirondack chair.
Uncanny what a great eye Tricia has for taking pictures.

[F4?]

Nice job.

Happy camp looks like a nice place.

[mungeclimber]

*Like*

[mynameismud]

Awesome

[Brad Young]

Monday, July 11:

We had a relaxed evening at the resort and got going slowly. Our first step in getting going was the drive to Seiad Valley for breakfast:




Not only is the Seiad Valley cafe's pancake challenge "PCT famous," we'd heard from several locals that their food was just plain good. We had to try it, of course.

The pancake challenge involves just one plate of pancakes. One. And it goes like this: anyone that can eat all the pancakes on the plate in two hours or less gets their breakfast for free. We knew we couldn't eat it all (no one of us could anyway), but we had to order it and eat some.

Here is some of "the challenge" cooking:




And here's Vicki at the cafe too. She's sitting on the other side of a window from the actual Pacific Crest Trail:




When the challenge was delivered, it was delivered with a smile (and we smiled too):










After breakfast we headed back to the trailhead. On our schedule was a warm and steep 4,500 foot gain back up to elevation:










Views got good quickly though:










By 3.8 miles we'd gained 2,400 feet. It was warm again. We stopped and ate and drank more often. Tricia made sure we had water from slowly-dripping Lookout Spring:




We made our way across Lower, Middle and Upper Devils Peaks:



















We watered the girls at off-the-trail Kangaroo Spring:










Red Butte beckoned:







And soon we could see the Forest Service road that Vicki would be using to join us:




She whisked us off to the Klamath River Resort again. We'd hiked fast enough that we had time for another relaxing evening there (and even Vicki had a beer):




One more day to go; we'd had fun and success so far, and with another 18.3 mile day we'd get to where we wanted to finish for this trip: Wards Flat Gap, a point 2.6 miles from the California/Oregon border.