Journey Day 88 | PCT Day 88
Pacific spot among autobrecciated lava rocks in the Desolation Wilderness.
7/13/85
Keith’s out of camp first, never to be seen again today, other than his bootprints. Lost out on ridge near Paradise Lake, I eventually find trail. Some tough climbing up and down through forest brings me to White Rock Lake’s outlet.
Hike on. Don’t realize until later I’m hiking new trail, while the guidebook describes the old one.
New trail markers at road junctions, but hiking in between aroused some nerves. I hike on, it’s a hard trail climbing up and down. Thirsty, I come across a tiny creek that’ll have to do before crossing the road. Then up to Lacy Peak. Nice views, but onward along the ridge to another climb. It’s tough and long with little shade from the hot sun.
Stop when the grade levels, drink my last agua, actually chug it with lemonade, cool feet, refuel. But horseflies pester me onward finally confident of whereabouts. All downhill. I get to water!
Seasonal creek fills my bottles, then I sit and bath in a little pool. What a refreshing, relaxing time. Again horseflies, but I ignore them, smash any foolish enough to land on my body.
Deer also liked creek, but startled away by me, I guess, though I made no discernible noise. Clean bodied, I look for a site, but logging runs me off, sickens and confuses me in a wilderness area.
So I cross the main road on “minor saddle,” climb up to a pacific spot among autobrecciated lava rocks atop a ridge. Crash after a nice dinner. Bugs buzz, but leave me alone. I’m asleep by dark.
Note: Logging in such beautiful nature areas amazes me. It not only denudes landscape of beautiful trees indigenous to it, the destruction to the land, plant life, the entire ecosystem is apparently devastated. Why? I guess it’s the best place to find trees.
The twins: What a study.
Mike Eades, hyper, always in a rush. Way ahead all day. Possibly his worries over his girlfriend power his feet!
Matt joking, tries to be mellow. Naturally high on nature, he’s known to disco to walkman tunes atop a ridge.
Both are megahikers. Much faster than me. Great athletes, swimming and water polo. I hope they make the trip. Apparently financial woes are forcing their pace. Hopefully they won’t quit.
Keith: We’re still on strained relations, but seem to have come to an understanding. We may never be as close as we were. I don’t like him nearly as much, at least for now.
Me: I’m really enjoying the solitary life in nature. My feet are hurting, but I’m able to cover good ground despite pains and slow pace.
Life from a backpack is so simple, so wonderfully concrete. The hiking is your job. Do it right and you can enjoy the surroundings, meet a great mix of diverse people, get a look inside yourself.
My stick remains. Keith’s 3rd broke while we were separated. He says no more sticks. He’ll walk on without one. Mine has come about 1,100 miles. With luck, care and help from forces beyond my understanding, it’ll make it as far as me, which hopefully means Canada.
