South Lake Tahoe to the Oregon border, July 8th to July 31st
Before starting the PCT and leading up to Northern California, I heard phrases like, “NorCal sucks,” or the “NorCal blues.” I found these overly negative, but once I was in NorCal, I understood their validity and learned to “embrace the suck.”
I’ll start with the lows first. The landscape was in for a change after the picturesque mountains, wildflowers, and rivers of the Sierra Nevada. I called the area from Quincy to Burney “the wilderness of thorns,” because it was overtaken after wildfires by invasive white thorn; others had more colorful language to describe the area. The white thorn completely covered the trail in places and ripped off any bare leg flesh and that dared to cross it. With legs bleeding and surrounded by dead trees, I questioned why, of all the places in the world to walk, I was walking through miles of this burned out hellscape. Having other hikers around helped because it proved I wasn’t the only crazy one out there. Leading up to this section, I had heard hikers discussing skipping this burn zone, and I didn’t understand what could be so bad about it. If we survived the desert, how bad could some hot, barren land be? What I didn’t know about was the white thorn. Nevertheless, I’m glad I didn’t skip the section, and the main regret I have about that section is not wearing long pants. Experiencing the wilderness of thorns has made me appreciate the rest of the trail better and the reality of what climate change and increasing wildfires mean to the landscape.
Besides the physical change in the landscape, the social landscape changed as well. In South Lake Tahoe, my tramily lost Walrus, and we started to splinter. It was gradual at first. I started to feel like I was falling behind, missing the group lunch and arriving late at camp. I found I liked hanging out at Trail magic or swimming in lakes, which set me behind. Then we started camping separately, and I would only see my trail family in town. I stuck with Hindsight more than the others but eventually had to purposely stay behind in Mt. Shasta because I was tired of feeling like I simultaneously had no group but also no individual freedom to hike without feeling rushed to keep up. I wish things had ended differently, but I’m still grateful for all the time we spent together. It’s uncommon for trail families to stay united the whole trail anyway.
After splitting from the trail family, I felt a little lost. How many miles did I want to be doing? Did I want to find a new group? What made my hike meaningful, and what did I want from the rest of my hike? I battled the urge to make the trail into a race. At one point, I inadvertently actually started a race with Hulk and Big Booty Hoe, but that’s another story. I debated whether I wanted to stay with a new group. Just one town after Mt. Shasta, I started hiking with Cascade. He has such positive enthusiasm, and we meshed together well on pace and miles. I introduced him to the concept of lunch, which he loved, and we laughed together while hiking. It was a challenge to learn to hike one-on-one with someone, and compromise sometimes seemed even harder.
NorCal brought back trail magic; in the Sierras, no roads had meant no trail magic. Some of my favorite trail magic happened in NorCal. Quesadillas from wind walker, eggs from Compass and Nest, and a sandwich (with lettuce!) from Cosmic Pickles.
Each carry, a stretch of days between two towns, brought in a new set of characters. Peter and James were a comical duo from Canada and Great Britain, respectively, who tried to persuade me soda was the secret to fast hiking. Field Guide was incredibly prepared with sending boxes for herself. Shake and Bullfrog were always stoned. Commando and I were 24 hour friends who had to backtrack for water, ate a Chinese dinner, and stealth camped in the Chester park. Tide Pod was a good smile. Chost Wizard, Chicken Joe, and Bird had been hiking within a day or two of my tramily all along, and we’d never known it. Spare Parts was a walking rainbow. I also met Ryan, 18, Scraps, Geisha, and Poppins.
I continued to receive support from my friends and family. I got a package from friends in Sierra City, a couple packages from my parents, a letter from Josie, and was able to visit with my Uncle Tom for a nice breakfast in Mt. Shasta.
Although tough, NorCal was nice middle portion of trail with some beautiful lakes, rivers, and climbs. We were all in the thick of being through hikers, but the end wasn’t here yet. I dabbled in big miles, doing my first 35 mile day then my first 39 mile day, and by the end, 30 miles became a doable day.
Leave a Reply