C. Dow LaFevers

C. Dow LaFevers

First Year Mathematics PhD Student at Rice University

Day 13

Published:

Tough day. The desert forces you to appreciate the little things—shade found under a boulder, a cool breeze, cold water—because that is often all that is on offer. We ended off trail at mile 218.6.

flower

We overslept and weren’t moving down trail until 7:30. Thus our morning 6000 foot descent was in the blazing sun. Bailey and I were soon separated and I was left to fend for myself. Experiencing the early warning signs of heat stroke or dehydration, I found refuge underneath a 15 foot wide boulder. Reinvigorated after consuming copious amounts of water, salt, and my orange which froze overnight and remained frozen, I cautiously continued the descent thinking that I probably wouldn’t see Bailey until tonight.

c 200

Patience is the trait which I would most like to hone on this trip. Nothing comes quickly, so one must wait. Just so with this descent, which continued for another 2 hours of endless switchbacks over barely-descending rocky paths. Nearly at the bottom, I got in touch with Bailey and determined that he had about an hour on me. Thus when I reached the water at the bottom, I filled up then powered ahead in the hope of catching him in the long flat section between the base of San Jacinto and the I-10 “oasis.”

sj road

Having descended to about 1200 feet above sea level, it was hot. Nonetheless, I felt great and I powered towards the oasis across the San Gorgonio riverbed-wasteland—I knew that a special snack awaited me.

lizard

When I arrived at the oasis (a pile of trash and shitty advertisements for trail “angel” services under an I-10 underpass), fiendish to bust out my snack, Bailey greeted me much to my surprise. We caught up while also getting to know the two unscrupulous Dutch men who told us they lived here. I ate my partially-frozen honey crisp apple topped with chocolate-peanut butter with glee.

Shortly before we left, trail angel Legend showed up to remove his sign and tell us that today would be the last night of spaghetti with tomato sauce and tomorrow the last morning of pancakes and coffee at Whitewater Preserve—our destination. The free food, in addition to the wading pool and beautiful, grassy camping area, were enough to put some serious wind in our sails. However, we were looking down the barrel of 2500 feet of elevation gain over 10 miles to get there. In the heat of the day.

wind1 wind2

We powered through the wind farm no problem, aided by the kind workers who left out a cooler filled with ice cold waters for PCT hikers. The uphill was tough for me and Bailey and I were again separated.

uphill view

As the sun set and I descended the ridge leading to the Whitewater River alone, I realized that the time for the spaghetti dinner bell—6 pm—was rapidly approaching. I kicked things into gear and made it to the camping area at 6:30 to a round of applause (at which I laughed) from the three tables filled with through hikers and a reserved spot next to the head of the tables. Before I could take my shoes off a plate was plopped in front of me. I wish I someone took a picture of my grin.

spaghetti

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Day 117

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I don’t think I could have asked for a better birthday than today. I hiked through some of the most choice scenery on the Pacific Crest Trail (for the second time!), we were able to not only ride into nearby Mazama with the first car that passed but actually secure a ride all the way into Seattle for the following day, and I was able to enjoy a great dinner at the Mazama pub with Roadrunner and Free Bird! He slept in today, so he stuck around for the afternoon in Mazama at the Lion’s Den hostel. After an excellent shower at the hostel, I ran into Carmen, a woman traveling with her dog from Mount Hood to Banff on foot via the Pacific Crest and Pacific Northwest Trails, then hopping in their canoe and paddling the whole Columbia River! A truly incredible last day on the PCT.

Day 116

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It’s difficult to write about today because it was a very emotional one. I’ll try to just describe what happened. We navigated the several passes between us and the border with ease and excitement, leaving an eight mile downhill to the border. Since this would also be an eight mile uphill, we decided to drop most of our stuff at Hopkins Lake and travel with just water and some snacks to make the hike back a bit easier. While we were off trail setting our shelters up, we missed Free Bird, a realization I would have a bit later which made me sad, as I thought I wouldn’t get to say goodbye. The hike down was so fast, so when I turned the corner and saw the border monument, I almost didn’t believe it was over. After taking some photos, we climbed back up to the lake with no problems and went to bed.

Day 115

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The heat, though not as oppressive as yesterday, made today much harder than it otherwise would have been. We hiked with Free Bird for awhile, ran into a guy very casually running a fifty mile out and back from Rainy Pass, encountered my first mountain goats as I walked a ridge towards Hart’s Pass, and passed a crew filming a dramatic scene of a priest walking through a talus field. Getting to Hart’s Pass, where all northbound hikers must return after touching the border, felt pretty weird, as it was a physical signal that we were sixty miles from the end. Brushing this off, we walked three more miles and made camp. Tomorrow, I finish the PCT.

Day 114

Published:

After the hottest night I have had on trail—I slept naked on top of a picnic table for maximum airflow—we boarded the bus to leave wonderful Stehekin. On the way, Steve regaled us with more stories, anecdotes, and apocrypha; some highlights: “the national park service didn’t plant those irises, Mary did,” “that’s the only gumball machine within seventy miles!”, “I always like to tell people about this creek.* It’s called Boulder Creek. So now when you’re down valley and someone starts a story with ‘so I was up at Boulder Creek…’ you can say ‘’go on I know where that is.’ A good thing to keep in your back pocket,” “now I already told you about Ed Courtney, that’s the older Courtney…,” “I always say ‘people who want to grow a garden want to grow one like Carl’s,’” “I challenge you to find a single tree in that stand without a dapple of sunlight on its trunk.” I love Steve, he really tickled me. He’s a man who truly loves his town’s history and people as well as its natural beauty. Anyways, we stopped on the way at the legendary Stehekin Bakery, where I bought three massive cinnamon rolls (my breakfast for the next three days), a slice of lemon cheesecake (also breakfast), a peanut butter cookie (also breakfast), and a carrot cake muffin (supposed to be breakfast, but somehow made it to lunch).