July 27, Day 84
29.2 miles [1629.0]
The near full moon and constant wind gusts mixed with cowboying next to everyone else didn’t lead to great sleep. I glanced over to see “Froggy” nearly packed, folding his tarp and clipping buckles by headlamp. Pooped and got moving, my usual regimen. Had some gut pain which only got worse with each step. I hadn’t even made it two miles before I found myself hunched over, pack off, sitting and sweating, worrying if I was lucky enough to get appendicitis on trail. Let out a few gnarly farts and ate a Pop-Tart and found myself regaining hiker-stasis. Today’s terrain was freshly burned, probably in the last two years, a dusty haze hung around ghoulish trees illuminating their blackened bark. Set up lunch overlooking Fischer and Marten Lakes and prepared two salami and dijonnaise roll-ups, shooting “Froggy” looks of “I-can’t-believe-it-took-me-this-long-to-buy-cured-meat”—tuna tacos have a new contender. “TQ” insisted we help with her one-pound squeeze-bottle of Welch’s jelly and I slathered myself a PB&J wrap. The last few miles of the day were spectacular, everything is blooming with a furious intensity; Marble Mountain Wilderness is magnificent. We set up and shared camp with some weekenders at Paradise lake where I relaxed and scrubbed out the grit from between my toes. Currently the soles of my feet are the only body part which is regularly sore, tonight is no exception. Got good and stoney for dinner, everyone rejoiced at nonexistent bugs. Running dangerously low on power which has me more nervous than I care to admit but I’ll make it work. I haven’t had to ration my music yet.
Nothing but killer trees.
July 28, Day 85
27.4 miles [1656.4]
Knew we were in for a huge, mostly downhill slog into Seiad and left around 5:45 A.M. “Froggy” introduced me to Ello Govna—a drinking game which they had adapted to play on trail—the rules became PI questions you could answer differently each round. Our game got wild: 1) favorite color 2) 'hey “Surge”' 3) $10,000 car 4) sports-related memory 5) bad job 6) grateful for 8) ? 9) Philmont memory 10) *weird noise* 12) collection from childhood 13) what hiking gear do you covet? 14) life goal 15) road trip memory 16) *hootie-hoo* 17) *orgasm noise* 18) birthday memory 19) compliment someone 20) trail friends 21) best day on-trail. Played for six hours and made it 20 miles before breaking for lunch at Grider stream. The girls already had a dunk and were setting up a lunch spot while us guys took our turn to bathe. Tried to ignore my self-consciousness and stripped off my undies with a pitiful lack of authority. God, I’m a prude. The day only got hazier as we road-walked six miles into Seiad Valley, all the while eagerly looking for ways to ford the dangerous and way too large Klamath River to cut off a ridiculous amount of trail, more as a means of distraction from the carbonized heat. Triumphantly arrived at the general store, took a hot lap around and bought a few dollar-pies and beers. Stoked to see “Shocks” as well as “Conflicted” who’s convinced the State of Jefferson is the future and filled the silence with talks of secession, I’m glad they’re doing well. Ate tuna taco dinner outside the store with the whole gang and utilized every last minute to charge electronics. I was stunned to see “Snacks” catch back up, he’s pulled some crazy days! Every hiker here knows Oregon is closer than ever, this is the last California town. “Trash Queen” even said the upcoming border was “the most monumental border”, which we all had a good laugh at, but in a way, she’s right. Walked a few miles down the road to one of the largest oak trees I’ve ever seen, a tree so old and large you can’t help but play out its history like a stop-motion silent film in your head. Set up and circled the trunk to cool off (it’s still gotta be above 80F) and meditated in its grandeur. Huge 10-mile climb tomorrow, one final challenge.
“Froggy”.
“Penguin”.
Klamath River Bridge.
July 29, Day 86
31.3 miles [1687.7]
Had a hard night anticipating today’s big climb, the stagnant midnight heat wasn’t comforting. By 5:45 A.M. the only thing left in camp were a few tent stake holes. Played all my saved Heavyweight podcasts to distract from the hazy onslaught. At one point I passed “Conflicted” who’s exhalations were purely muttered obscenities—he was having a tough time. Looking at the map makes everything worse. I can’t recall anything during snack break and the only thing memorable from lunch was seeing “Shocks” who fixed my vape pen. Once the hill climb was over, Oregon and many retrospective thoughts took up the rest of my day and my wandering mind. It’s hard to remember anything after 30 miles. Got to the last water source, gang took a slap-dash vote and decided to cross the border tomorrow. Surprisingly “Flipper” and “Froggy” took different sides and all six of us started to have a hard time, no one wants to be in Cali-fucking-fornia anymore. Everyone was hungry, tired, and ready to zero. Unsurprisingly I was wishy-washy (good photos or Commit?) and tried to be nonchalant—looks like I haven’t learned anything. Whatever. There’s still plenty more hiking to do. We set up camp four miles out. Tomorrow has a new map, hotel, beer, and shower. OREGON.
July 30, Day 87
32.0 miles [1717.7]
Camp was a ghost town before 5:30 A.M. and I had the same singular thought as everyone else. Arrived at the nondescript border and only felt more excited. High-fives and coyote howls all around—we walked to Oregon! Luckily “Goat Man” was there and took our photo. Had to psyche myself up for the remaining 26 miles to the highway and raced through both snack and lunch breaks. Strong cell reception approaching the highway so I made a few phone calls to chew up the remaining miles: a quick update with mom and dad; no luck on Sam Anderson; Jake Moye and I laughed about being hiker trash. With just two miles left, mid-sentence with “Flipper”, I fell. Hard. I could have broken a bone, but luckily all I suffered was losing my mile-zero water bottle. Knee hurts pretty good, thankfully tomorrow is a day of rest. Arrived at Callahan’s and saw that “Dutchie” was there too. Plopped down at the bar and proudly redeemed my free beer on tap, IPA of course. The bartender was having a slow afternoon and treated us to a few pours of pilsner leftover from a wedding. We toasted to our accomplishment. “Dutchie”, being international, charming (and female) schooled us all on how to land a hitch. It took her three minutes, the first car pulled over as if we had money—she’s a natural. The five of us squeezed into her subcompact and took off for Ashland. Arrived at the hotel, it was time to celebrate “Froggy’s” birthday in earnest. Had a real shower, with hot water and soap, for the first time since Bishop—day 44. HA! “Snacks” did the beer run and made us all proud; craft as well as cheap and plenty of them. Gang attempted to order pizza half in the bag. After much deliberation and chatter, we made the delivery call. Wings, ‘za, and beers. Lots of laughs. To friends, birthdays, and zeros.
Oregon/California border and six happy hikers.