Blame Canada

Day 31PCT Mile Marker 1371.48 – 1382.13

Miles Hiked 10.65

The morning sun pushed its way through the trees and sucker-punched me.

Right in the face.

It was gonna be a hot, hot day. Breaking a hundred, I heard.

I got to Subway Cave, and it seemed the perfect spot for a hot day. It’s a constant forty-six degrees in there. I went in and checked it out. Breath in clouds in front of my face. Like every morning.

The parking area had water but no electricity

I wanted a nap.  

So I boiled my socks and underwear in my pot. Doctored my feet. Threaded floss through the blisters on my heels.

Chores first, ya know?

Forest Ranger guy pulled up wearing a strange blue shirt and headed toward me; my stuff covering the entire picnic table.

Me: “Record Temps today, I hear. You don’t mind if I just stay here all day, do you? I’ll move on this evening.”

Ranger Guy: “I clean up the trash.”

Me: “Oh…good.” This guy was off. I didn’t trust him.

We looked at each other for an uncomfortable amount of time.

Ranger Guy: “I clean the fire pits too.”

Me: “Great job. Honest Work.”

Tell Him He Is Honest and He Won’t Try To Steal Your Stuff.

Ranger Guy: “Nice set-up ya got here.”

Me: “Yeah.”  

He walked around and around me for the next hour, coming too close to me but not saying anything. I watched him really carefully. When my chores were done, I packed up and melted into the chaparral. I lay out all my laundry to dry in the sun. Put my gear between me and a giant rock. Lay down on my mat in the shade and slept for a few hours.

I decided to night-hike the Dreaded Hat Creek Rim. It was a long and exposed section, and the heat was making me feel sick. Even while I sat in the shade. I don’t know why I didn’t go back in the cave. I just sat there feeling sick instead.

At 4:30, I found another Ranger person and asked her where I could charge electronics. My solar charger wasn’t working. She said she had no idea. 

I decided to walk down the road a little. It looked like a cafe was relatively close. When I got out of the parking lot, that particular Ranger passed me and went straight into a Forest Service Campground across the street.  

So I went there too. I asked a camper if there was power, and he said only in the bathroom. Did the Ranger lie to me? Or was she just not thinking?

So I went to the bathroom. And I sat in there for two and a half hours. Charging Stuff and putting water on my hands and my head, and being nervous about the Hat Creek Rim, and being nervous that the Ranger would catch me and kick me out of the bathroom. Or that someone would tell on me. ‘Some strange lady had been in the bathroom for hours, and she’s just standing there being weird.’

Ranger Danger.

A super nice woman told me she’d just give me a ride to Burney Falls. That the Rim wasn’t worth the risk in this heat.

That was it! I think I just needed someone to give me an out so I could muster the courage to continue. I needed a little sympathy. I needed someone to offer me a helping hand.

The Night Hike Was On.

I left at 7pm, and straight up into a climb. It was still hot, but not burn-your-flesh-off-your-limbs hot.

At the top of the climb, there was a parking lot. A man with a sweet little dog named Mimi stopped me, gave me a bunch of water to drink right there. Camel-Up.  

Trail Magic!

His name was Newt and he was there to watch the stars. He showed me his gear and gave me a beer. I chugged it. The sun was falling. I needed to go.

“Where ya going?” Newt asked.

“Canada,” I said.

“If you wanna stay here and watch the stars tonight, I got a case of wine, two cases of beer, and you could go to Canada later. Besides, Mimi wants you in her pack.”

Mimi smiled and wagged her tail.

I declined and as I was leaving, he said, “Ever seen South Park? Canada’s got the people with the disjointed heads.”

As I walked into the knee high grasses of the Rim, I could hear him for a long time singing after me, “Blame Canada, Blame Canada!”

The sun bled out for a long, long time. I wanted it to stay up so I could see the trail, but I really wanted it to go down so the temperature would cool down. It was trying to do both for me. The horizon gory with seeping blood.

The temperature dropped in strange waves, and it was impossible to dress correctly. Hot, hot, cool. Hot, hot, cool, cool, hot. Hot, cool, cool, cool, hot.

I just wore my long sleeved fleece hoodie and suffered through the hot. Because the cold is unbearable. Because I Am Icebox.

The minutes turned into hours. The rocks were the same color as the fine dusty trail. It was hard to gauge distance and depth. I tripped a lot.  

In the dark, everything can be scary. Every stump is a bear, every rock a monster. So I decided to trick myself. “Look Ma! A giraffe!” Or a nanny goat, or a hippo. Something benign and ridiculous. It worked.

But I started to hear make-believe stuff too, the longer I walked. People talking. Radios. Car doors closing. A campfire crackling. Music. I was exhausted.

I found a campsite and set up in a rudimentary way. Just enough to feel a little at home. Just to sleep for a few hours.

Just a few.

I stuffed a bar in my mouth and was lucky to swallow before I fell asleep.

Maybe he was right. Maybe I should Blame Canada. Maybe this is all her fault.