Day 67
PCT Mile Marker 1820 – 1836.74+3.36 – 1848.70
Miles Hiked 15.32
“Your pack really stinks. Baaaad.” My nephew pointed out in the back seat as we headed back to Crater Lake to drop me off at the trail.
I laughed. “Yeah. It does.”
We drove past fields of crops of some sort. Clouds of bugs rose high into the sky. Swirling and swirling their way up into oblivion.
Green Bug Dust Devils.
We located Turtle and loaded him up in the car. We were all smooshed in there pretty good. Five people and two giant backpacks and a cooler and lots of miscellaneous stuff everywhere.
The fire detour was from PCT Mile Marker 1820 to 3.36 miles shy of the PCT reconnect from the Rim Trail at mile 1836.74.
We drove around Crater Lake and got to North Junction where the trail re-opened. Lots of photo ops and hugs and chatting, and then my nephew walked with Turtle and me for about fifty feet on the trail.
Just so he could say he hiked on the PCT with me. He was part of the journey.
I waved goodbye to my Mom.
My Amazing Mom.
And then we couldn’t see them anymore.
The trails were flat and fast, and my legs churned under me. After an hour, I had to stop for a peanut butter break, and it was amazing. Then more flatness and fastness.
Turtle and I took turns being in front, so we also took turns eating the other’s dust. It was super fun.
I was going so, so fast! I felt like I was on my bike! Zooming around this bend, and around this little root, and over that rock!
The trail so smooth and happy!
Like a video game!
My feet pounding the trail!
My left foot pounded the trail and a gopher hole opened up under it. My foot turned grotesquely to the left and I started to fall.
Hard.
I caught myself with my trekking pole. Turtle was behind me.
Good catch! He said. Your pole didn’t break! He said. Now take it easy and walk slow to make sure you’re not injured.
“I’m not injured, I’m just hurt,” I said.
I took it slow for what seemed like a long time. I stopped to wiggle my foot around. It hurt, but not super bad or anything.
Eventually we got back up to regular speed. Not zooming around, but eating the miles nonetheless.
We stopped for a snack break and Turtle pulled out the most smashed Snickers bar I’d ever seen in my life. I laughed and took a picture.
The mosquitos came out to play, and Northbound thru-hikers passed the two of us in droves.
We got a tiny bit of water from a water cache, and hiked uphill. There wasn’t anywhere to stop and it was getting late. Turtle took the lead and shortly found two sort of flat areas on the side of a hill.
It would have to do.
I pitched my tent on that tiny spit of crookedy earth that barely fit my tent.
Close Only Counts In Horseshoes And Campsites.
I pulled my sitting pad over near where Turtle was cooking his dinner and set up my stove.
We ate our noodles in happy camaraderie.
I dove in my tent to escape the mosquito birds and took video of the nine million black flies that accumulated between my tent and my rain fly while I was eating dinner.
I snuggled into my sleeping bag, all pleased and happy with myself.