Crater Lake National Park, Oregon.
Wizard Island, in Crater Lake.
We were given a bunch of fresh veggies- here is Tom cooking up some vegetable soup in camp.
Proof that we ate really well on the trail.
Saturday, July 24, 2010
July 13th- photos.
Crater Lake National Park, Oregon.
Wizard Island, in Crater Lake.
We were given a bunch of fresh veggies- here is Tom cooking up some vegetable soup in camp.
Proof that we ate really well on the trail.
Thursday, July 22, 2010
July 13th
On the Rim of Crater Lake
1:06pm
Everyone here is foreign- there are very few American tourists. Tom and I hitchhiked up to the rim village with a nice older couple from Buffalo, New York. The lake is so blue, though. And we have been able to go to a bunch of ranger presentations about the geologic history of the area (previous volcano, which erupted, then collapsed, and became Crater Lake- over the course of thousands of years). Pretty awesome. We are sitting on the rim of the lake (about 1000 feet up from the water) and just taking in all of the views.
Mazama Village
7:44pm
Today was a great day. We hitched back down to the Mazama Village after a beautiful (although very sunny, and sunscreen-less) day. We got 2 rides from nice older couples- not at all who we expected to pick us up. But it was a great day. When we got back to Mazama we sat outside the store and just met tons of other hikers. We ran into two guys we had crossed paths with on day 3 on the trail. They had set out for a few days of simple hiking and had ran into too much snow, so have been jumping around and trying to find a snow-free trail. They said there is snow all the way up Oregon too, and then a lot more in Washington. But all of the hikers have reaffirmed by fear of snow- everyone is pulling out or jumping ahead- even Edelweis. She is going to hitch north and try from there. But at least we have a lot in common with everyone.
Tom got a trail name today from Edelweis: Van Gogh (so perfect).
In the tent
8:37pm
The mosquitoes are still horrible. So went spend most of our free time sitting out front of the store at a picnic table in the sun, sporadically buying more snacks. And everyone here is so chatty- we all have this national park in common, which is very neat. I have had great conversations the past few days about what we are doing, etc. People are very curious about the trail and hikers, and Tom and I wearing our beige suits. It is really nice to have indoor bathrooms, too. I was so tired of having to go poop in the woods while being swarmed with mosquitoes. It was horrible.
Today this couple was unpacking their cooler at a picnic table and offered us their leftover produce (they were this cute couple from rural Alaska). So for dinner we made this delicious veggie rice soup. Yum.
Today we said goodbye to Edelweis. She was hitching off into the sunset (actually, to Shelter Cove).
We are very, very sunburned. We made it on the trail without getting burned, being super careful with sunscreen. And then today we left camp without a second thought (it was so chilly, the sun wasn't even on our mind). And now we are going to pay for it. But right now we are heading to a ranger program about the winter in Crater Lake National Park.
1:06pm
Everyone here is foreign- there are very few American tourists. Tom and I hitchhiked up to the rim village with a nice older couple from Buffalo, New York. The lake is so blue, though. And we have been able to go to a bunch of ranger presentations about the geologic history of the area (previous volcano, which erupted, then collapsed, and became Crater Lake- over the course of thousands of years). Pretty awesome. We are sitting on the rim of the lake (about 1000 feet up from the water) and just taking in all of the views.
Mazama Village
7:44pm
Today was a great day. We hitched back down to the Mazama Village after a beautiful (although very sunny, and sunscreen-less) day. We got 2 rides from nice older couples- not at all who we expected to pick us up. But it was a great day. When we got back to Mazama we sat outside the store and just met tons of other hikers. We ran into two guys we had crossed paths with on day 3 on the trail. They had set out for a few days of simple hiking and had ran into too much snow, so have been jumping around and trying to find a snow-free trail. They said there is snow all the way up Oregon too, and then a lot more in Washington. But all of the hikers have reaffirmed by fear of snow- everyone is pulling out or jumping ahead- even Edelweis. She is going to hitch north and try from there. But at least we have a lot in common with everyone.
Tom got a trail name today from Edelweis: Van Gogh (so perfect).
In the tent
8:37pm
The mosquitoes are still horrible. So went spend most of our free time sitting out front of the store at a picnic table in the sun, sporadically buying more snacks. And everyone here is so chatty- we all have this national park in common, which is very neat. I have had great conversations the past few days about what we are doing, etc. People are very curious about the trail and hikers, and Tom and I wearing our beige suits. It is really nice to have indoor bathrooms, too. I was so tired of having to go poop in the woods while being swarmed with mosquitoes. It was horrible.
Today this couple was unpacking their cooler at a picnic table and offered us their leftover produce (they were this cute couple from rural Alaska). So for dinner we made this delicious veggie rice soup. Yum.
Today we said goodbye to Edelweis. She was hitching off into the sunset (actually, to Shelter Cove).
We are very, very sunburned. We made it on the trail without getting burned, being super careful with sunscreen. And then today we left camp without a second thought (it was so chilly, the sun wasn't even on our mind). And now we are going to pay for it. But right now we are heading to a ranger program about the winter in Crater Lake National Park.
July 12th
Mazama Village Campground
4:11pm
Showering felt so nice- and it was a free shower, which made it feel even better. And clean clothing- mmm. Although there were even mosquitoes in the shower. I am so sick of these mosquitoes!!! I am hiding in the tent- again. We were so excited to get here because we figured it would be relatively mosquito free. But we were wrong. Our site is particularly infested because it is shady and there is still snow. But I think this was the dirtiest I have ever been. My hair was just one greasy, dusty, crunchy mass. It is actually not very clean now...even after shampooing twice.
Today while waiting in line to get a campsite, I met another PCT hiker. She is a French woman from the Alps, trailname: Edelweis. She is super intense though- she started in Campo, California (southern end of the PCT) and did the Sierra in May. MAY!! She was right behind us this whole section, and arrived at Mazama a few hours after us. She also isnt carrying a stove- she eats all of her food cold. I cant even imagine. After meeting her I have realized something important (or perhaps it has just been confirmed): I am not hardcore. I am not intense. I guess I am just not cut out to be a thruhiker.
I am pretty bummed about this whole scenario, though. All of this money, preparation and anticipation. And no one will ever understand how hard this week was, or what it was like. But I have weighed it over and over again- the pros and cons of continuing just for the sake of not giving up, versus ending this while keeping my wits about me and being true to myself. What is crazy is we were doing so well until that one snowy day, when we just fell apart. And once you start thinking about going home, there is no getting that out of your head.
4:11pm
Showering felt so nice- and it was a free shower, which made it feel even better. And clean clothing- mmm. Although there were even mosquitoes in the shower. I am so sick of these mosquitoes!!! I am hiding in the tent- again. We were so excited to get here because we figured it would be relatively mosquito free. But we were wrong. Our site is particularly infested because it is shady and there is still snow. But I think this was the dirtiest I have ever been. My hair was just one greasy, dusty, crunchy mass. It is actually not very clean now...even after shampooing twice.
Today while waiting in line to get a campsite, I met another PCT hiker. She is a French woman from the Alps, trailname: Edelweis. She is super intense though- she started in Campo, California (southern end of the PCT) and did the Sierra in May. MAY!! She was right behind us this whole section, and arrived at Mazama a few hours after us. She also isnt carrying a stove- she eats all of her food cold. I cant even imagine. After meeting her I have realized something important (or perhaps it has just been confirmed): I am not hardcore. I am not intense. I guess I am just not cut out to be a thruhiker.
I am pretty bummed about this whole scenario, though. All of this money, preparation and anticipation. And no one will ever understand how hard this week was, or what it was like. But I have weighed it over and over again- the pros and cons of continuing just for the sake of not giving up, versus ending this while keeping my wits about me and being true to myself. What is crazy is we were doing so well until that one snowy day, when we just fell apart. And once you start thinking about going home, there is no getting that out of your head.
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
July 12th
Mazama Village, Crater Lake National Park
11:30 am
So, we made it to Mazama Village. But not without the trials and tribulations which have become typical for this trip. I was awoken around 1am by hooves pounding the ground around our tent, and a loud snorting. I was terrified and woke Tom up, but they quickly retreated into the woods. I had a hard time falling back asleep because I couldn't stop fearing death by wildlife. I was awoken again around 5am by two large deer grazing in the field we had put our tent in. Apparently the meadow that looked like a great tent site was also a popular deer (and elk) hangout. Our midnight visitor is believed to have been an elk, and the early morning friends were most likely also elk (hard to tell to my untrained, near-sighted eyes).
When we decided to exit the tent around 7:30, we realized how much dew had accumulated the night before (chilly night without a rain fly). Everything was wet- there was even water drops dangling inside the tent and coating our sleeping bags and gear. We got up and packed quickly, snacking on a cold breakfast to the best of our ability.
We hit the trail around 8 and logged some easy, quick miles along an old road. The guidebook had said we would follow an old road for a while, then climb up, and cross a forested section that would be very snow logged- which made us nervous. About an hour in we started to here traffic though, and emerged on a busy highway (which the guidebook didn't mention). We flagged down a car, which informed us that we had hit HW62, about 4 miles south of Mazama Village. Somehow we had gotten seriously off the PCT, but a road walk sounded like a refreshing change of routine- out of the snow and mosquitoes. It took us a bit over an hour, but we reached Mazama Village and are now sitting outside the store, waiting for our clothes to dry and for 1pm, when we can check into the campground. We are sitting in the shade where it is pretty cool, and feeling rather great. I just ate a string cheese and it was outrageously delicious. Tom just keeps running back into the store to get more snacks and Gatorade.
I still just cant believe this last week- hiking in 100 degree heat, having to wear long pants and a long sleeved shirt and bug net to ward off mosquitoes, and hiking through 10+ feet of snow. Add to that the fact that we couldn't rest in the shade because of the outrageous bugs, and in the evenings we just had to hole up in our tent to avoid them. The mosquitoes just made hiking frantic. And we were unable to eat enough to have energy to hike. Everything that could have gone wrong really did. But in retrospect it is already looking less horrible...
Things in this national park are very spread out, though. We are staying at the Mazama Village Campground, which actually isn't anywhere near Crater Lake (there is no camping with a view of the lake...and the only other campground in the park is still closed due to snow). The lake is 7 miles up the road, and there is no shuttle or transportation. 14 miles of road walking is not exactly what I hoped to do on our 0 day, but we cant NOT see the lake...
We are also weighing our options for getting out of here. There is technically no hitchhiking in national parks, so that means about 10 miles of walking before we can hitch somewhere (anywhere!).
Apparently Crater Lake gets a ton of snow each year- an average of 44 feet. All of the road signs are on very tall poles. And they keep the park open year round- they plow one road that goes up to the lake, but they let all of the others get snowed in and close. They also build the buildings here upside-down- they put the bedrooms on the first floor and the kitchen and living room on the second floor, so when there is 20 feet of snow on the ground, they still get some sunlight in the rooms that matter. This year was so snowy they just got the last road plowed and open on the 4th of July. Crazy.
11:30 am
So, we made it to Mazama Village. But not without the trials and tribulations which have become typical for this trip. I was awoken around 1am by hooves pounding the ground around our tent, and a loud snorting. I was terrified and woke Tom up, but they quickly retreated into the woods. I had a hard time falling back asleep because I couldn't stop fearing death by wildlife. I was awoken again around 5am by two large deer grazing in the field we had put our tent in. Apparently the meadow that looked like a great tent site was also a popular deer (and elk) hangout. Our midnight visitor is believed to have been an elk, and the early morning friends were most likely also elk (hard to tell to my untrained, near-sighted eyes).
When we decided to exit the tent around 7:30, we realized how much dew had accumulated the night before (chilly night without a rain fly). Everything was wet- there was even water drops dangling inside the tent and coating our sleeping bags and gear. We got up and packed quickly, snacking on a cold breakfast to the best of our ability.
We hit the trail around 8 and logged some easy, quick miles along an old road. The guidebook had said we would follow an old road for a while, then climb up, and cross a forested section that would be very snow logged- which made us nervous. About an hour in we started to here traffic though, and emerged on a busy highway (which the guidebook didn't mention). We flagged down a car, which informed us that we had hit HW62, about 4 miles south of Mazama Village. Somehow we had gotten seriously off the PCT, but a road walk sounded like a refreshing change of routine- out of the snow and mosquitoes. It took us a bit over an hour, but we reached Mazama Village and are now sitting outside the store, waiting for our clothes to dry and for 1pm, when we can check into the campground. We are sitting in the shade where it is pretty cool, and feeling rather great. I just ate a string cheese and it was outrageously delicious. Tom just keeps running back into the store to get more snacks and Gatorade.
I still just cant believe this last week- hiking in 100 degree heat, having to wear long pants and a long sleeved shirt and bug net to ward off mosquitoes, and hiking through 10+ feet of snow. Add to that the fact that we couldn't rest in the shade because of the outrageous bugs, and in the evenings we just had to hole up in our tent to avoid them. The mosquitoes just made hiking frantic. And we were unable to eat enough to have energy to hike. Everything that could have gone wrong really did. But in retrospect it is already looking less horrible...
Things in this national park are very spread out, though. We are staying at the Mazama Village Campground, which actually isn't anywhere near Crater Lake (there is no camping with a view of the lake...and the only other campground in the park is still closed due to snow). The lake is 7 miles up the road, and there is no shuttle or transportation. 14 miles of road walking is not exactly what I hoped to do on our 0 day, but we cant NOT see the lake...
We are also weighing our options for getting out of here. There is technically no hitchhiking in national parks, so that means about 10 miles of walking before we can hitch somewhere (anywhere!).
Apparently Crater Lake gets a ton of snow each year- an average of 44 feet. All of the road signs are on very tall poles. And they keep the park open year round- they plow one road that goes up to the lake, but they let all of the others get snowed in and close. They also build the buildings here upside-down- they put the bedrooms on the first floor and the kitchen and living room on the second floor, so when there is 20 feet of snow on the ground, they still get some sunlight in the rooms that matter. This year was so snowy they just got the last road plowed and open on the 4th of July. Crazy.
July 11th
Junction of Stewart Falls Trail and PCT (inside Crater Lake National Park)
6:30 pm
Weather: cooling off from another hot day, clear, breezy
Stuck in my head: "Mommy's alright, daddy's alright..."
Highlight of the day: Right now. And stew.
This whole trip is just one uncomfortable situation after another- being really uncomfortable and having to figure out 1) why, and 2) how to fix it. Today was a very long day- we logged 15 looooong, slow miles. The first 9 miles were fine, but the second 6 just dragged on and on, with fear of impassible snow lurking around every corner. We started off around 8:30 and pounded out 7 miles by lunch, stopping at the junction of a spring we were planning on visiting before a 15 mile waterless stretch. There was a handwritten note warning that the spring was hard to find and really snow flowing, so we look advantage of all of the snow piles and filled our water bottles to let it melt. We had been planning to jump onto the Stewart Falls Trail to visit (and camp by) the falls (and get another water source) as well as avoid some high elevation (with the chance of impassible snow fields). But it would add 4+ miles, so we decided to stay on the PCT. After lunch we spent a while in a burn area (from a wildfire) then entered the "Oregon Desert". Eventually we came to a junction that had us really confused for a while at to which trail was the PCT. We found it though (after briefly following the other one) and then started on the longest 6 mile stretch I have ever encountered- Tom was really dragging and having trouble catching his breath, there was constant snow and blow downs, and we were really climbing (gaining more than 1000 feet in elevation). It felt like we weren't making progress, and we had to take constant breaks (but we did get some beautiful views from the mountain ridge). Finally we reached a sign indicating we were entering Crater Lake National Park, then pushed on about 1.5 miles further, where we collapsed in an open meadow, set up our tent, and cooked some stew (it was sooooo delicious, and for the first time in days we were starving and able to eat).
The temperature is also dropping, and theres a great breeze. And the mosquitoes haven't found us yet (we are in the sun) so we are actually able to sit outside and enjoy ourselves. It feels really good to know we are only about 5 miles from Mazama Village- our goal for this section, and our resupply box (as well as "civilization"). I am tired of being scared all of the time- worried about what is waiting around the curve in the trail- whether it be bears or snow. Physically, I feel pretty good (besides the calorie deficiency). It feels good to know what my body can do. I wake up every morning really stiff and sore, with my feet hurting. But after some stretching, ibuprofen (vitamin I) and 20 minutes of walking, I feel great. Climbing today felt really great.
The best thing about this trip has been the fact that I am with Tom. We have had to practice patience and compassion and I love him now more than ever before. The trail really forces you to be honest- if you are tired or hurting, you really need to let it be known, and that has been good for us. It is also nice for us to share tasks and a common goal, and being able to help each other when we are feeling horrible.
We have run out of toilet paper and are now using sudoku pages. Sudoku has been really great on this trip- it provides us with hours of entertainment while we are hiding from bugs in our tent, it is a great fire starter to get our stove going, and now it has acquired another use.
Tom is looking really beat up. He is very excited to roll into Mazama Village tomorrow. All he has been talking about is sitting on a bench and drinking Gatorade.
Tom and I are about the third people to cross this section of the PCT this year. I feel very remote and isolated out here. I wouldn't recommend this section to people for another week or two. Crazy year with these temperatures and all of this snow.
6:30 pm
Weather: cooling off from another hot day, clear, breezy
Stuck in my head: "Mommy's alright, daddy's alright..."
Highlight of the day: Right now. And stew.
This whole trip is just one uncomfortable situation after another- being really uncomfortable and having to figure out 1) why, and 2) how to fix it. Today was a very long day- we logged 15 looooong, slow miles. The first 9 miles were fine, but the second 6 just dragged on and on, with fear of impassible snow lurking around every corner. We started off around 8:30 and pounded out 7 miles by lunch, stopping at the junction of a spring we were planning on visiting before a 15 mile waterless stretch. There was a handwritten note warning that the spring was hard to find and really snow flowing, so we look advantage of all of the snow piles and filled our water bottles to let it melt. We had been planning to jump onto the Stewart Falls Trail to visit (and camp by) the falls (and get another water source) as well as avoid some high elevation (with the chance of impassible snow fields). But it would add 4+ miles, so we decided to stay on the PCT. After lunch we spent a while in a burn area (from a wildfire) then entered the "Oregon Desert". Eventually we came to a junction that had us really confused for a while at to which trail was the PCT. We found it though (after briefly following the other one) and then started on the longest 6 mile stretch I have ever encountered- Tom was really dragging and having trouble catching his breath, there was constant snow and blow downs, and we were really climbing (gaining more than 1000 feet in elevation). It felt like we weren't making progress, and we had to take constant breaks (but we did get some beautiful views from the mountain ridge). Finally we reached a sign indicating we were entering Crater Lake National Park, then pushed on about 1.5 miles further, where we collapsed in an open meadow, set up our tent, and cooked some stew (it was sooooo delicious, and for the first time in days we were starving and able to eat).
The temperature is also dropping, and theres a great breeze. And the mosquitoes haven't found us yet (we are in the sun) so we are actually able to sit outside and enjoy ourselves. It feels really good to know we are only about 5 miles from Mazama Village- our goal for this section, and our resupply box (as well as "civilization"). I am tired of being scared all of the time- worried about what is waiting around the curve in the trail- whether it be bears or snow. Physically, I feel pretty good (besides the calorie deficiency). It feels good to know what my body can do. I wake up every morning really stiff and sore, with my feet hurting. But after some stretching, ibuprofen (vitamin I) and 20 minutes of walking, I feel great. Climbing today felt really great.
The best thing about this trip has been the fact that I am with Tom. We have had to practice patience and compassion and I love him now more than ever before. The trail really forces you to be honest- if you are tired or hurting, you really need to let it be known, and that has been good for us. It is also nice for us to share tasks and a common goal, and being able to help each other when we are feeling horrible.
Tom is looking really beat up. He is very excited to roll into Mazama Village tomorrow. All he has been talking about is sitting on a bench and drinking Gatorade.
Tom and I are about the third people to cross this section of the PCT this year. I feel very remote and isolated out here. I wouldn't recommend this section to people for another week or two. Crazy year with these temperatures and all of this snow.
Saturday, July 17, 2010
July 10th
Honeymoon Creek- 7:35pm
Weather: sunny, and starting to cool off a bit (was triply digits again today)
Today was the hardest day I have ever had in my life. Tom and I got a slow, late start this morning and were really feeling each mile. About 3 miles in, Tom collapsed and we took a long break before I coaxed him to continue. A combination of calorie deficiency, heat, bugs, dehydration and altitude was really beating us down. But we pushed on to the Snow Lakes Trail, where we took a short detour for lunch by a lake. That's when I just started to fall apart, though. I cried for a while out of frustration at being unable to eat and general physical pain and mental exhaustion. But we pulled ourselves together and after lunch we started our constant climb up to Devils Peak. I actually felt great physically, although I could feel the effects of altitude on my breathing. Once we reached 6500 feet, however, the snow really started. We lost the trail a number of times, but thankfully (luckily) Dennis was a few hours ahead of us and we could rely on his footprints to lead the way. At times his footprints were very faint though, and the PCT is often little more than a sparse footpath, so it took quite a bit of navigating and guessing to get us along. Eventually we got into some snowy, open bowls, so we grabbed our microspikes and ice axes. The snow was very soft, though, and I lost my footing twice, sliding 50 feet down the mountain and having to self-arrest myself. I got stuck in a rocky hole, and had lost my trekking pole part of the way down. Thankfully Tom was there to help gather my gear, and talk me through climbing back up. That's when I got really scared, because I realized the actual danger of it all. I had read about self-arresting and snow fields, and all of the dangers we would encounter on the trail, but now they were real- and imminent.
We were out of the deep snow for a few miles, constantly gaining elevation and traversing the ridge of the mountain, but then we turned a corner and were confronted with 10+ feet of snow, as far as we could see, entirely covering where the trail should have been. We put on our gear, and took our time (I was terrified, but I put on a brave face- I wasn't about to yield to Tom's suggestion of returning to HW140). We spent the next hour traversing the very steep slopes of Lucifer's Peak, making our way towards the summit of (aptly named) Devils Peak. Below us was thousands of feet of open, snowy slopes- and nothing to catch us if we fell. The trail was entirely covered, but we followed Dennis' faint footprints along the snowfield, double checking each of our steps for safety. Finally we reached a snow-free saddle between the two peaks, and crossed over to the north side of Devils Peak, where we were once again confronted with feet and feet of unending snow. Our guidebook advised us to glissade down (slide down on our butts, using our ice axes to control our speed and direction) and then find the trail in the woods at the base of the bowl. So we spotted Dennis' footprints and kept them in our site as we slid down the mountain. At this point though, even a partly controlled butt slide was terrifying to me, and gravity wanted me to follow the fall line (and go super fast) instead of Dennis' tracks. I ended up in a few tree wells, righted myself, and slid again (Tom, meanwhile, was loving this part...). We made it pretty far down the mountain, then realized we hadn't seen any tracks in a while. We spent a good 30 minutes tromping around a snowy bowl, looking for the faintest sign that somebody had been there before us. Eventually we located the trail again, but by this time I was in such pain- I had rolled my ankles countless times in the snow, we had been postholing for hours, my knuckles were raw from gripping my ice ax against the snow, and I had shooting pains in my left foot. The next 4 miles into camped dragged on and on. By the time we got to Honeymoon Creek, our destination for the night, we were so thoroughly whooped- mentally and physically. It had taken us 10 hours to log 12 miles. Our feet were soaked through, our guidebook and maps were soggy, and our feet hurt more than we thought was possible.
I am really proud of us- because we made it through today- but I just cant get over how terrifying it was. I said I only wanted to do this until it wasn't fun anymore, and I reached (well, surpassed) that point today. When I saw those 10 foot tall snowbanks on the ridge of Lucifer's Peak, I decided I had had enough. I cant imagine reliving this day over and over again, and that's exactly what this trip would be. It really scares me when I think about where we would be without Dennis' tracks- we never would have made it over the pass without his guiding footprints- and that terrifies me. And to think there are so many more passes ahead- higher elevation and further north. No thank you. Watching Tom fall, and falling myself, was so scary...just knowing we are way out here and so many things can go wrong.
But today I did earn my trail name: Tracker.
Weather: sunny, and starting to cool off a bit (was triply digits again today)
Today was the hardest day I have ever had in my life. Tom and I got a slow, late start this morning and were really feeling each mile. About 3 miles in, Tom collapsed and we took a long break before I coaxed him to continue. A combination of calorie deficiency, heat, bugs, dehydration and altitude was really beating us down. But we pushed on to the Snow Lakes Trail, where we took a short detour for lunch by a lake. That's when I just started to fall apart, though. I cried for a while out of frustration at being unable to eat and general physical pain and mental exhaustion. But we pulled ourselves together and after lunch we started our constant climb up to Devils Peak. I actually felt great physically, although I could feel the effects of altitude on my breathing. Once we reached 6500 feet, however, the snow really started. We lost the trail a number of times, but thankfully (luckily) Dennis was a few hours ahead of us and we could rely on his footprints to lead the way. At times his footprints were very faint though, and the PCT is often little more than a sparse footpath, so it took quite a bit of navigating and guessing to get us along. Eventually we got into some snowy, open bowls, so we grabbed our microspikes and ice axes. The snow was very soft, though, and I lost my footing twice, sliding 50 feet down the mountain and having to self-arrest myself. I got stuck in a rocky hole, and had lost my trekking pole part of the way down. Thankfully Tom was there to help gather my gear, and talk me through climbing back up. That's when I got really scared, because I realized the actual danger of it all. I had read about self-arresting and snow fields, and all of the dangers we would encounter on the trail, but now they were real- and imminent.
We were out of the deep snow for a few miles, constantly gaining elevation and traversing the ridge of the mountain, but then we turned a corner and were confronted with 10+ feet of snow, as far as we could see, entirely covering where the trail should have been. We put on our gear, and took our time (I was terrified, but I put on a brave face- I wasn't about to yield to Tom's suggestion of returning to HW140). We spent the next hour traversing the very steep slopes of Lucifer's Peak, making our way towards the summit of (aptly named) Devils Peak. Below us was thousands of feet of open, snowy slopes- and nothing to catch us if we fell. The trail was entirely covered, but we followed Dennis' faint footprints along the snowfield, double checking each of our steps for safety. Finally we reached a snow-free saddle between the two peaks, and crossed over to the north side of Devils Peak, where we were once again confronted with feet and feet of unending snow. Our guidebook advised us to glissade down (slide down on our butts, using our ice axes to control our speed and direction) and then find the trail in the woods at the base of the bowl. So we spotted Dennis' footprints and kept them in our site as we slid down the mountain. At this point though, even a partly controlled butt slide was terrifying to me, and gravity wanted me to follow the fall line (and go super fast) instead of Dennis' tracks. I ended up in a few tree wells, righted myself, and slid again (Tom, meanwhile, was loving this part...). We made it pretty far down the mountain, then realized we hadn't seen any tracks in a while. We spent a good 30 minutes tromping around a snowy bowl, looking for the faintest sign that somebody had been there before us. Eventually we located the trail again, but by this time I was in such pain- I had rolled my ankles countless times in the snow, we had been postholing for hours, my knuckles were raw from gripping my ice ax against the snow, and I had shooting pains in my left foot. The next 4 miles into camped dragged on and on. By the time we got to Honeymoon Creek, our destination for the night, we were so thoroughly whooped- mentally and physically. It had taken us 10 hours to log 12 miles. Our feet were soaked through, our guidebook and maps were soggy, and our feet hurt more than we thought was possible.
I am really proud of us- because we made it through today- but I just cant get over how terrifying it was. I said I only wanted to do this until it wasn't fun anymore, and I reached (well, surpassed) that point today. When I saw those 10 foot tall snowbanks on the ridge of Lucifer's Peak, I decided I had had enough. I cant imagine reliving this day over and over again, and that's exactly what this trip would be. It really scares me when I think about where we would be without Dennis' tracks- we never would have made it over the pass without his guiding footprints- and that terrifies me. And to think there are so many more passes ahead- higher elevation and further north. No thank you. Watching Tom fall, and falling myself, was so scary...just knowing we are way out here and so many things can go wrong.
But today I did earn my trail name: Tracker.
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