Mile 1372 - 1462: Respite after the Burn

 

Roaming the Rim

The morning is chilly so I take a little longer to get up. I foresee the miles coming a bit easier than they did the last 200. I fell asleep among some pines, and a talkative squirrel chirps at me while I rustle around in my bag. I respond in kind, and we have a quick conversation. I have no idea what was said, seemed well intentioned though. My spirit is a bit lifted after being the trees again, I had a moment after Chester where I didn’t think I could continue on, which was a jarring experience. The early morning walk reminds me of a Devil’s Garden, or a patch of forest/jungle that is dominated by one species, so travelers get lost. In here it’s a type of pine. It reminds me a tree farm near me growing up, the company name was Potlatch, and they grew trees for paper. You could look 20 feet into those trees before it became nearly pitch black in the middle of the day, and it went for thousands of acres. I always wondered how someone would fare if they ended up in the middle of it. My post-trail thoughts remain a bit heavy, I feel I’m putting a lot of pressure on myself to figure it out, as well as cornering myself into the thinking that whatever I do next is what I’ll do forever. I tend to do that projecting quite a bit, though it’s been clear that the plan never quite goes the way I think it will, usually for the better. I have I ascend up to what’s called the Hat Creek Rim, which looks down upon the volcanic valley below. I hike this for a good 25 miles. Daydreams, like I had in the desert, come back to me. The steady trail of the high desert gives my imagination an open canvas to play with ideas and fantasies. Like winning the lottery. I watch the dust blow up like tiny explosions under my feet. Down below I see a volcanic maze of jagged rocks, seemingly impossible to navigate with Cinder Butte sitting high like a castle in the middle of it all. I see a storm in the far distance. For a while, I remain unconcerned about its trajectory, as the wind seems to be taking out east. But as the evening wanes on close to night, the winds change and I see these dark, looming clouds begin to roll toward me.

Cinder Butte

This is what I was not hoping for, as I still have no good way to use my tent. It’s already late so I set up in the closest flat spot, not thinking about the fact I could use the rope I have to support the middle of my tent. So I prop the top portion of the rain fly up with my bag over my head. The real catch with cowboy camping isn’t the mosquitoes, it’s the ants. The mosquitoes give up, the ants remain curious and crawl around my body throughout the night.

What’s in there, a Rankor?

Hangin’ with the Hickeys

I am a bit unenthused when waking up, I had a very restless sleep. The day is hot but I’m excited as today I’ll be getting picked up by Sinead, one of my close friends and Peace Corps peers, and her family, at Burney Falls State Park. 

We’ll be spending the next few days together, a scheduling feat that took months in the making. I descend early off the rim into the valley below. The volcanic soil is shallow, hard to dig cat holes in. There’s another storm in the distance, and I be sure to be hasty in my walking. I arrive a bit early to the park and find a creek that feeds into Burney Falls to wash off in before meeting Sinead and her family. There’s a small and expensive general store in the park, and I’m famished so I rush over. I see Alligator there, the Italian who speaks German but lives in Austria. He hiking with his girlfriend now. I make my way to road and the Hickey’s (Sinead and family’s last name) grab me. I’m quickly greeted by loud barks from their Great Dane puppy, Seamus. He quickly gets over it and is happy to see me. 

Sinead and I

Burney Falls

We make our way back to Old Station at the Hat Creek campground where they have the RV set up. A strong dinner and a movie has me feeling already rested.

I doomscroll and sleep most of the day. Sinead and I catch up throughout the day. She’s working remotely, but I have zero problem occupying myself. I catch up with her mom and dad, whom I get along with very well.

I slept until 8am which is something I’ll do once or twice a year, so that also gives me a sense of comfort that I finally got the deep sleep I’ve been craving. I still feel exhausted so I take a nap in the day. The next day is a bit of the same. Later on in the day Sinead, her mom, and I go check out the Subway Cave, a 1000ft or so lava tube. I walked right past it two days earlier but didn’t want to waste time getting to Burney Falls. 

I ship out some more of my things, and my pack in the lightest it’s ever been.

A part of me is grumpy that I’m alone again. Sinead and family dropped me off and I’m days away from anyone I know. My foot pain is doing better. The first few days of hanging out with the Hickeys I struggled to move around. I don’t know if it’s recovery or what, but the more time I take off, the worse my body feels. I tell myself it’s good for me, but my struggle to walk says otherwise. Getting back on trail always takes me a minute to feel back in a groove, both physically and emotionally, this time is no different. 

My next target, Shasta

The day feels like a battle between me and myself. Enough hiking by the end of the day though and my mind is settled.

To Shasta

The days are getting long in miles and a bit less novel in their events. The overgrowth is thick today and my eyebrows get tired from squinting as I bushwhack my way through. My feet are moving faster since my pack is lighter. 

There will be a lot of Shasta photos 

As the day wanes on, I see smoke slowly filling the valley, which explains my bloody nose. There’s a fire near Redding, so I take little concern as I hope the night winds blow out the smoke for the walk tomorrow.

Castle Crags

I had set up camp on a road near some power lines above Deer Creek. It had amazing sunset views. I head back into the trees for the day. Trees have greatly improved my mood over the past few days. I soon learn why it’s called Deer Creek, I see nearly 10 deer in about 2 miles around the area. About midday I come up the Centipede Gulch trailhead and there is Mark, a trail angel. I wanted to go fast today, but I’d be crazy to say no to some soda and snacks. The weather feels balmy, the trees and rocks covered in moss, there’s water flowing all around. Reminds of the time I experienced an Appalachian spring. Today is the most trail traffic I’ve seen in weeks. I wonder where in the devil all these folks had been, because it felt like I was hiking alone for many days. I make it to Yét Atwam River to bathe and catch Alligator and his girlfriend stealing a kiss off trail. They’re happy to see me. Alligator thinks he too slow to finish by his visa expiration date, I disagree with him. We all see Mark again as he’s about head home, but I’m able to get a Gatorade out of him before he’s gone. Near the top of the climb some folks debate going on with me to camp near the road as night is approaching.