Stop and Pick the Berries

Oregon! The land of milk and honey! A wilderness stretching 450 miles packed to the brim with wild huckleberries, blueberries, thimbleberries, eatable (and not eatable) mushrooms, whimsical trees dripping with Old Mans Beard moss, geological volcanic wonders, and huge craggy peaks to scramble.  The trail is like a Temperpic mattress for your feet, cushioning you to pull 30, 40, even 50 mile days. The skies seem bluer, the grass greener, the trail easier. And then there is the front country of Oregon. Towns like Ashland, Sisters, Bend, and Timberline; places where everyone stops for you to J-walk, a new brewery serving an even hoppier IPA beer pops up every week, and carrot ginger beet juice with a boost of maca is the classic down-to-earth healthy breakfast option. This is not a place to rush through at all. In fact, despite the PCT challenge to hike Oregon in two weeks, I slowed down a lot and started to consider myself a section hiker. Waking up later, doing side peaks off the actual PCT, and strapping bags of Frido Flavor Blast Twists and Bagels to the outside of my pack. Life was good in Oregon.

During Oregon I became part of the “Magic School Bus” crew. I wonderous bunch of interesting characters. There was Verde, one of the many hikers who are named for their love of smoking weed. He looked just like the Grinch, with a big ol’ smile going from ear to ear and a generous heart. Then there were the Tennessee boys (Sagi, Moonshine, and Leaky). If I was 19 and their age I would have a huge crush on them.  In fact, every time Sagi walked into a new town he fell in love with another waitress or bakery worker. There was Lullaby too.  An Iranian man in his late twenties or early thirties, working as a dentist in Santa Rosa. Pictured him spending his Friday nights lounging on an expensive recliner chair reading the New Yorker watching reruns of Its Always Sunny In Philadelphia and Friends. He had a big beard and would store things in it during the day to save them for later. Best Lullaby moment was when the Magic School Bus all stuck a huge number of glow-sticks in his beard. As we were laughing our asses off, Lullaby told us to all be super quiet and then in a flash he yelled at the top of his lungs and shook all the glow-sticks up into the air. Good times. Then there was Butters. Butters seemed to just appear out of nowhere one day and we instantly jived. Born in Santa Cruz and coincidently going to work for one of my friends from college, I could actually see hanging out with this guy off trail. In exchange for me teaching him about mountaineering, he geeked out on geology and answered all my questions about lava rocks. 

And then there was Acid Glasses. Acid Glasses and I became consistent hiking buddies for all of the Pacific Northwest. So much so, that people joined our trail names together to call us “Drop Acid” (Drop Bizkit and Acid Glasses together). However, for the remainder of my blogs I will refer to him as Mickey. I decided that at a certain point you get to know someone so well on the trail that their real world name make them seem more like real world people and it is just more appropriate at times. Mickey and I had a blast together. We could talk forever about nothing and everything for hours or we could just leave each other alone and meet up for lunch. Mickey has an amazing attitude towards life and when I was in a shitty place, he was the perfect company to pull me out and get me to laugh again. At age 21 Mickey has already thru hiked the Appalachian Trail and is planning to do the Continental Divide Trail next year. Because of this I learned a lot about thru hiking from him. He got me to finally understand that I could slow down- that I could make s’mores and collect berries and still make it to Canada in time. He taught me how to make amazing lunches with bagels, avocados, cheddar cheese, three meats (usually peperoni, turkey and ham), and chips crumbled in. Every Wednesday since the beginning of my journey I was making Instant Jello Pudding as a tradition. But with Mickey I learned how to one up that and make No Bake Cheesecake every week (4 servings, 4000 calories!). He even taught me that carrying two silly puddies and three books was weight worth carrying. We fought a lot, argued about stupid things, got mad at each other, but ultimately shared amazing memories and pushed each other to make it to Canada.

Ashland was the first stop 20 miles into the state of Oregon. I had been dreaming about coming here for months because I knew about the amazing co-op with an awesome juice bar and the hot springs right outside of town. I stayed three nights in a really comfortable hostel where the Tennessee Boys made the crew a bomb hamburger dinner and eggs in a blanket for breakfast. To celebrate entry into a new state I went out on the town one night with Verde and danced to some amazing Jazz tunes. Was sore for days after that. In recovery from that night, the next day Mickey and I went hot springin’ and soaked our sore muscles and bones for hours until we were one giant prune. Sufficiently fed and resupplied with the famous Pacific Northwest Dave’s Killer bread for my next section, I marched forward.

Upon entering into the Cascade Range I pretty much just hopped from volcano to volcano. There were the Three Sisters, Mt. Thielson, Three Fingered Jack, Mt. Jefferson, Mt. Washington, and finally Mt. Hood. I spent the days hiking toward one giant mountain, circumventing around it, and then hiking away from it onto the next. And then there was Crater Lake-one of the world’s most notorious volcanic craters. Hiking along the rim of the lake during sunset with the train of the “Magic School Bus” crew pushing me from behind was such a spiritual and beautiful feeling. It was one of the those moments on trail where it feels like time has stopped and some how you have just hiked 4 miles without even knowing it.

Then there was Mt. Thielson. Butters, Mickey and I decided late in the afternoon to scramble up an hour off trail to get to the top of this craggy Class 3 peak. No big deal. Just threw off our packs and pretty much ran up that thing listening to R Kelly tunes and twerking our booties. I am usually not that comfortable on more technical rock scrambles, but with Butters and Mickey around for support I made it and was so glad we did this.

By the way, the Three Sisters Wilderness is amazing! Highly recommend this spot to anyone looking for a few day journey into the wild. Cool lava rocks, ground covered with only obsidian rock, beautiful peaks surrounding mild terrain, cool climate, lakes everywhere. And then there is the Three Sisters mountains. One fine day we decided to summit the Middle of the Three Sisters. Middle Sister is around a 4 mile off trail scramble up scree and glaciers. After finally motivating the crew of Acid Glasses, Sagi, Butters, and this dude Rocks we blasted up the peak. It felt so good to just take a daypack and push my muscles to work hard up to a summit. We got to the top right before a huge thunderstorm rolled in. It was epically fun running down scree fields and sliding on our butts down large snow patches to get back to the calming terrain of the PCT again. Once down, the day was only half over. Mickey and I decided to rage through a big rainstorm and get soaked to the bone to make it a 27-mile day and get to a stone built observatory. I felt like such a bad ass that night making it to that shelter and getting to sleep in a dry place. That morning we were woken up by all these tourists coming to check out the views. We must have looked ridiculous with all our wet clothes hanging everywhere.

I saw my very first porcupine! Mickey nearly stepped right on it and kept walking passed until I screamed in surprise. I was so taken aback that there was a porcupine right on the trail, I literally peed in my pants. As “good” abiders of Leave No Trace Principles we ran into the woods to follow it and probably scared the leaving crap out of it trying to take photos. It was awesome.

Oh yeah, got to mile 2000 in Oregon!

One of the only places that I went to resupply where I could actually picture myself living was Bend. Bend is an amazing town set right in the middle of the great outdoors and has 17 breweries, and counting. I ate some of the best meals of my life there, so much so that they deserve a mentioning. The mac n’ cheese I had one night had cheddar cheese, blue cheese, chicken, AND bacon in it! Then there was the fried goat cheese salad, the three-cheese dip, the pulled pork taco, the risotto, the home made grilled cheese bacon sandwiches, the uncountable samples of baked goods, the soy lattes, and the meatloaf. Yum yum yum.

Then there was Stephanie. I met the most amazing human being of my life there. She is an angel, an absolute gift from the heavens above, shining down on my path and beckoning me into her arms. Stephanie has a somewhat bittersweet life story. She is divorced and has an 11-year-old daughter, Ella, struggling with a chronic illness. Despite these set backs in life, Stephanie seemed like the most alive and loving person. Her daughter Ella is beautiful, mature, and so sweet. You can tell that their relationship means everything to both of them. When I showed up, they were going on a staycation (vacation where you stay at home), where they were going to hang out on a farm together, get their noses pierced, make cookies, and go out to eat whenever possible.

Mickey and I met Stephanie our first night in Bend when she was working as a waitress at this fancy restaurant. We passed by when she was outside serving someone and just named dropped our other hiking friend, Ryan Burton. Ryan is from Bend and his big friendly giant nature of a personality makes him the man around town. Of course Stephanie knew him. The next day as Mickey and I were passing by a pizza restaurant Stephanie saw us from inside and came running down the street offering us a giant calzone. She offered for us to join her pizza lunch she was having with her daughter and her ex-husband. Her magic didn’t end there. She then offered us the use of her car and bikes to roam around the city. Too nervous to drive her stick shift car, we accepted the bikes and she dropped off two cruisers at the trail angel’s house we were staying at. After taking us out to dinner one night at Deschutes Brewery, she pretty much offered Mickey a room in her house and a job to be Ella’s nanny (or manny in this case) when he got off the trail. And then to top it all off, she drove us back to the trail the next day and gave us a huge container of home made veggie and fruit drink. What a gem. In return and mild obsession with Stephanie, Mickey and I sent postcards to Ella during the rest of our journey.

Bend also was filled with good music. We spent a night out at a karaoke bar with a bunch of other hikers and got to see the infamous Aloha in action. Aloha is the husband of one of the hikers (Toots Magoots) on trail and followed her in his car the entire way providing trail magic. What a nice husband. Aloha is also a really large opera singer man and loved his karaoke whenever he was waiting for his wife in town. I also got to see Cuddles play his cello finally. Cuddles is a music teacher in Arizona and decided to hike the PCT and play cello concerts along the way at various venues. Despite the crazy logistics of this, it was such a treat to get to hear him play along the way. One time I even got to see his wife play the violin with him. Of course, Mickey and I sang “Don’t Stop Believing” by Journey at karaoke. Classic number.

Exciting moment on trail: I got $5 from Cuddles and Shedder to jump into Little Crater Lake, the coldest lake ever! Spent that on a beer.

Oregon also has the infamous Timberline Lodge. Nestled right at the base of Mt. Hoods ski lifts, it is a fancy-pancy place with the BEST buffet on trail ever. The last mile hiking into it seemed like the longest mile of my life as Mickey and I turned into Southern Baptists and prayed that it would be right around the bend. Never a good idea to mentally think you are closer than you actually are to something. Better to just pretend you are still really far and then be really excited when you finally get there. Once we got there, I fell in love. For $17 we got lunch buffet with multiple cuts of meats, prosciutto, a huge number of desserts, the best cream soup, salads, waffles, and cheeses. I stayed for hours and just kept going back. Such is the life of being a calorie-deficient hiker with a fast metabolism and getting to eat anything your little heart desires.

With views of Mt. Hood behind me, I journeyed 3 days to the town of Cascade Locks at the Washington Oregon border. I took the Eagle Creek alternate route to not only cut off some mileage, but to add magnificent views of giant waterfalls, cliff hanging trails cut into the rock, and a ridiculously high bridge to walk over. Cascade Locks was a convenient little town right next to the Colombia River. I stayed at the Trail Angels house of a big man named Shrek. Shrek himself was kinda weird and we would get locked out of his house occasionally and had to pee in his backyard, but his place was nice and I got to sleep in a tree house. Shrek got really mad at these two hikers Grumpy and Wagon Wheel for throwing a water balloon at me. I was really impressed with their accuracy when it landed straight on my chest, but Shrek thought it was too rambunctious and got angry. Woops. The water balloon fight continued and I nailed Verde a few days later on trail. Cascade Locks also had a really amazing soft serve yogurt place where the large size was literally a foot long of swirls piled up high.

As I said goodbye to the peaceful wilderness of Oregon and waltzed over the Bridge of the Gods (epic name for a bridge), I entered into the craziness of what Washington had in store. Two states down, one to go.

The Trail Taketh and the Trail Giveth

To just begin writing is a big journey. I am months passed where I left off in my blog and must dive deep into my memory to recall the facts and feelings of hiking the last 100 or so miles of Northern California. The story I am about to write is one of the most magical and beautiful acts of humanity and serendipity I encountered on the trail. So much so, that it gave a new brightness and energy to my path and got me out of my Northern California blues I was experiencing.

To refresh, I had been hiking along in a somewhat blah section of trail when I found out that a good college friend passed away in an avalanche, my long-term relationship was on edge, and my home-away-from-home summer camp was dealing with a traumatic death incident in which many good friends where in recovery. I felt like I was not just carrying the weight of my normal backpack, but had pounds more of emotional baggage weighing my shoulders down. On the verge of wanting to quit and end all this crap, I some how got my legs to take me into the town of Shasta. I was in need of some serious rejuvenation.

The town of Shasta is right at the base of Mt. Shasta, a giant majestic peak standing all on its own and is ultimately the gateway to the Cascade Range. I had been to Shasta the year before to summit the peak and had been looking forward to this place for miles. Shasta has a reputation of magical spirits and powers that bring together an interesting mix of retired acid taking hippies from the 60’s, mountaineers looking to ice ax and crampon up to the summit, young hitch hikers with big beards and guitars going from place to place, and new age vegan gluten-free shaman-blessed spiritual activists searching for the meaning of life. Every other store is a crystal shop with information about the lumerian people that are said to live in the depths of the Shasta mountain. When I was there I gave my extra tortillas to a group of women who had just left the rainbow gathering festival. In exchange for my three wheat tortillas I was given the longest hug by a big bosomed women and told about how if I unwound my fifth chromosome I could active my fifth dimension.  Mmm? Although I do not believe I can activate my fifth chromosome, there was something powerful in the town of Shasta waiting for me.

Here I was in Shasta: a waterworks of tears, tired, hungry, wanting to quit and curl up in a ball to escape the world for a second. So, what else does a girl do, but order a carrot ginger juice and a fat breakfast burrito from the local health food store. I ordered my food and drink from a pretty looking girl behind the counter and inquired about places to crash for the night. Without finding out much information from her, I sat down with my food. An hour later this girl approaches me, introduces herself to me as Logan, and told me she felt a deeper inkling to ask if I wanted to stay with her and her family that night. YES! Trail Magic! That afternoon her mom, Heidi, drove me down their long dirt road to their property, where they have a beautiful off the grind cabin, a friendly dog, a river to explore, and good tea and quinoa and veggies to eat. Just what I needed.

That night, with the one bar of cell service I found, I had a very intense tear jerking conversation with Zach. I was on the phone in their dark living room crying when Logan walks on in. I must have looked like a complete weirdo hiker person crying in their home, but at that point I didn’t care. When I got off the phone with Zach, Logan leans over the railing and asks if I am having dude trouble. Turns out Logan just broke up with her boyfriend 30 minutes before and was also crying! We spent the remaining of the night going from lonely ground zero to giggling girls supporting each other in our issues. Despite the fact that Logan does not usually invite people into her bed on the first night of meeting, she let me sleep in her queen bed with her and cuddle her stuffed animal bear named Pinkie! Then, to add to the crazy magic of it all, I found out I know her sister, Ariana Morningstar, from UC Santa Cruz! Such a small world. Who knows if it coincidence or if it was the powers of the Shasta mountain bringing me and Logan together to support each other that night when we were both feeling so lonely. Whatever the forces behind it, I truly believe everything always just seems to work out on the trail. If you have the capability to see good and keep smiling when everything around seems bad, then good things will happen to you.

When the trail taketh, it eventually giveth back. 

And so the journey northward continued! Views were limited, and at times it was hard to breathe from all the smoke coming from three different fires in the area, I raged on.

I got back on trail and ended up running into two couples I really like (Frosty and Goldielox and then Shedder and Roo). I charged forward into the beautiful Marble Mountains with them, hiked my longest day of 33-mile day into Seid Valley, swam in some of the best river spots, and saw two bears in one day. Life was looking good as I hit the small town of Etna. In Etna all the hikers stay at this one bed and breakfast run by the sweetest couple ever. I slept out in their front lawn, watched the movie Hook (twice actually cause it is that good), made the most delicious nachos ever loaded with rotisserie chicken and refried beans, got treated to dinner by Goldielox’s parents, ate 6 home made cinnamon buns, went to an awesome brewery, mob around on loaner bicycles, and watched Simon (a British dude that smokes packs of cigarettes a day and is obsessed with Mountain Dew) eat a bowl of ice cream loaded with 5 giant scoops and 5 toppings from the classic ice cream fountain joint.

The last night in Etna was nothing less than epic. I was awaken in the middle of the night by all the hikers crazily packing up their stuff and screaming that there was a fire. I cracked my eyes open and sure enough, the house next door to us was burning down. There had been a forest fire in the area and my first thought was that the fire had reached us and I was going to have to jump into the little fish pond to escape the burns. I packed up my stuff in under 2 minutes (thank god I was a professional at this point at packing up my shit) and ended up following the mass of people to watch the fire take ahold of an old abandoned house. Flames were shooting up high into the air and I spent the remainder of the night watching a house burn to the ground. Apparently, it was an old house where squatters lived. Unfortunately, someone died that night I think going inside to save a cat or something. Hands down, craziest night on the PCT.

The last stop over in Northern California was Seid Valley, known for its pancake challenge and steep climb out. My crew got into Seid Valley super late, but trail magic hit and the owner of the general store saw us hiking in and drove down the road to open up the store for us. So nice. Hiking out of Seid Valley might have been the worst up hill climb I experienced on the PCT. It was a burn section, super steep, dusty, limited water, got my period that day (always seemed to come on the worst days), and was just blah.

With only a day or so till the Oregon border, Northern California decided to give us a little “f-you, take that” with a big ol’ lightning and thunderstorm.  Setting up my tent in an exposed plateau that night with lightning and hail all around us was probably the stupidest campsite I could have chosen, but was a good lesson for the rainier climate of the Pacific Northwest that was to come.

I think I must have walked that last mile of California in like ten minutes-just slow enough to not shake up my tall can of PBR beer for celebratory measures. Took a mental note of the happy California cows grazing in the distance and stepped into a new state! California is great, but wow is it long. The mental shift and energy boost getting into Oregon was huge. I had never doubted myself that I was not going to make it all the way to Canada, but in this moment I was actually really believing that maybe, just maybe, if I keep doing what I was doing to stay safe and healthy, I was going to make it all the way!  So, with hot desert days gone, lots of tears shed from both sadness and happiness, two tubes of vagisil for chafing used, 5 pairs of spandex destroyed, a ridiculous amount of cinnamon buns and hamburgers consumed, hundreds of liters of water squeezed through my filter, and most of the elevation change climbed, I said goodbye to my home state and walked on into new territory.