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PCT 2018: Days 88-92, Ashland to Crater Lake

July 31, Day 88
0 miles [1717.7]

Spent the night under a desk which was exactly my size. Slept in until 6 A.M. which counts as late, giving us plenty of time to enjoy a continental breakfast, an event which I usually find scheduled far too early to be useful. Enjoyed a couple hard boiled eggs and a bagel with an atrocious amount of single-serving cream cheese pucks as well as coffee and orange juice just like TV ads say I should. It was a stressful day but I’ve come to expect that from town and resupply missions. The girls took charge on deciphering the public bus system. Two bus rides later we made it to Medford which had a mega shopping center and everything we “needed”. Did Kohl’s first figuring I could spend less. I found a new shirt solution in the Men’s Athletic section for only $30 and said goodbye to my Frakensteinian spirithood creation. Gang had been fantasizing about REI and despite my frugal ethos I gave in with ease, after all, I needed pants. The kind associate took me to the kids section and grabbed a large after I insisted I was currently wearing a 30 and needed something smaller. They fit like a glove and for $50 I had to remind myself it was a necessity. Also picked up a new water filter—goodbye 6 min/L fill times. With most of our gear-related issues addressed, we couldn’t resist the smell of In-N-Out any longer. Cheeseburger, fries, and a Coke was all that I remembered, possibly more. Jimmy called and asked about my winter plans, said he has a room available! I’m stunned and stoked, deciding tomorrow. Got off at the “wrong” Post Office with “Snacks”—who knew there were two? Mailed home some extra trail weight and my thoroughly used pants. Safeway was practically the only option for resupply and it wasn’t ideal, expensive and lacking in variety. “Penguin” and “Trash Queen” planned on buying and sending the rest of their food, Washington included, from here. The smell of stress was palpable but to each their credit they got it done, something I couldn’t imagine Adam and I having planned for back at home. Figured out the bus back to the hotel and decompressed at the hot tub. Cleansed with an entire bag of spinach and the remainder of last night’s ranch wing dip. Almost as busy as a 30-mile day.

Making phone calls.

Shirt, v2.5 will be missed.

August 1, Day 89
23.6 miles [1741.3]

Another restful night under the Comfort Inn and Suites’ desk. The seven of us packed and slowly vacated our now grody smelling room and got breakfast. Shared the herb butter I accidentally bought and spread it on a few English muffins. Knew it was a hiking day and forced down a couple more hard boiled eggs. Gang spent almost an hour trying to hitch out because it was a poor location quite far from the trail and basically on the side of the highway. We split up and eventually “Flipper”, “Froggy”, and I got a hitch from some parents who nervously joked about not being killed. We insisted that any real instrument of harm was likely far too heavy to carry and we were relatively harmless besides our smell. Got dropped off at the trailhead and I called Jimmy back to confirm about winter. Stoked. Sluggish, unmotivated miles, no doubt a side effect from beer and of post-zero blues. Ran into a couple of locals who warned me a large rattlesnake was curled up on the trail. I nodded and smiled because this was clearly another spurious wildlife spotting from untested day-hikers. Sure enough, a few hundred feet up and coiled dead center in the trail in an area littered with downfall was the largest or possibly second-largest rattlesnake I have seen. I didn’t know they could be greener than olives. I extended my pole and gently tried to coax him along which got “Penguin” frantically yelling at me—it was almost more stressful than the snake which had begun rattling—he slithered on. Since lunch was a tuna taco, dinner was cold-soak Ramen and a peanut butter and Oreo dessert taco. Shared a campsite with an older man named “Tequila Jon”, his name seems pretty self-explanatory. Camping at Little Hyatt reservoir and it has the first water which distinctly tastes like pond; not a great place to christen my new filter. Happy August.

August 2 Day 90
25.9 miles [1767.2]

Despite getting good sleep I felt tired for the majority of the day. It was only 26 flattish miles but they seemed difficult, I booked the last four as if it would somehow bring me closer to the end. Took lots of frequent breaks. My apathy weighs more than my pack. I have been thinking a lot about hikers skipping this section due to smoke and fire, which has been improving each day, and it’s shameful to admit it makes me frustrated. We’re out here busting our butts just like any other hiking day, there’s no reason to skip—yet. It’s antagonizing to hear hikers justify their reasoning. Whatever, HYOH, you’re capable of more than you realize. Ignored my rationing mind and nearly finished my Airheads supply and crushed the one Miller I had packed out during lunch. Wandering thoughts turned to Colorado, working on art, and being able to use a kitchen. Water sources have spread out to more than 10-mile carries. Not ideal, it certainly made enjoying the terrain more challenging. “Conflicted” caught back up and it boosted my spirits, his banter provides much needed distraction. Lots of chatter on planned finish dates which makes me anxious. To what degree am I responsible for catching up to Adam to see our parents in Cascade Locks? As much as I want to be done, I love the people I’m with and would gladly go to the border with them. Gang is planning on being at Crater Lake in two days, Adam will certainly not be there but Sam Schoevaars is flying in, “Flipper” said it will be a surprise. I hate deciding. It’s all going to work out.

August 3, Day 91
26.5 miles [1793.7]

Another day where I felt off, this nicotine pen can’t be helping. Today was good, I’m just so tired of hiking. I want a vacation. Walking is my job, it doesn’t seem fun anymore. Perhaps it’s the ongoing lack of big views, there’s too much smoke and trees, we joke about the Green Tunnel and how that must feel. Stressed about leaving the group and making it Cascade Locks on my own. “Penguin” reminded me Washington is 353 miles away and it dawned on me that my parents will arrive in 13 days which means I need to average over 27 miles a day without any zeros to make this “deadline”. My group doesn’t plan on that pace and the longer I hang out the more miles I’ll have to make up. Realized I went through a few of the five stages of grief during today’s hike. There’s no reason to be angry at my folks, even though this will be their third visit. Morning temps were legitimately cold and it was hard to break a sweat. Another tuna lunch and ramen dinner. Ramen is calories at this point, I should probably stop carrying it in favor of better items. Legitimately low on food but perhaps it’s the lack of choice which makes me think this, I probably have day’s worth remaining. More long water carries today and another 20-stretch tomorrow. I need to get back to setting manageable goals, I’m planning too far into the future. A good head-space makes for easy miles.

August 4, Day 92
28.2 miles [1820.9]

Drunk, not in the mood to write. Uninterrupted sleep and an early start where I took the lead, something I never do—it seems like “Froggy” is always first—and enjoyed a clear morning. Easy, flat miles, the thought of arriving at Crater Lake is enough to make anyone keep putting one in front of the other. Had lots of solitary time to think about leaving my trail family. Great lunch break, tuna, of course, in the shade where you needed a jacket but unzipped, we just enjoyed each other's company. Arrived at Mazama Village and celebrated. “Goat Man”, “Dutchie”, and “Trash Queen” were all there and many other hikers I recognized but never met. Picked up my half of our resupply box Adam thoughtfully left me, I even got a nice note too. Bought quite a few $1.60 beers and gang decided to splurge for a meal at the resort restaurant. I had meatloaf, fries, and beans which looked like the most filling, cost-effective option. Under the table, “Flipper” secretly passed around a bottle of Jim from their resupply. Found camp and set up in the dark. Congregated around the hiker campfire and quietly proceeded to spiral out of control. I’m drunk, high, and overwhelmed about how I’m getting to Washington and what that’s going to look like. I feel alone again. I don’t want to leave—but I have to. I can’t afford the zero tomorrow and make consecutive 30’s. Everything will be OK, stop stressing, why worry?

(L-R) “Dutchie”, “Goat Man”, and “Penguin”.


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