Chuck's News: Saturday, July 27, 2018

16.50 miles - Total to date - 199.3 miles

Ascent - 1640’’ , Descent - 5884’ - Campsites above Buck Summit (1267.81) to Belden (1284.43)

During the night I smelled smoke. This was not the first time on this trip but it was stronger than back near Tahoe. Was this the Yosemite fire blowing north, or was another blaze now underway?

I was stuffing my tent and preparing to leave in the half light of 5:20 am as I noticed the hiker nearest me was also stirring from bed.

Once on the trail it was a gradual ascent for two miles, then the trail gently climbed and descended as it meandered along or near the ridge top. My throat was a little sore from the smoke in the air. After about six miles I stopped to eat some cheese and crackers. As I munched I heard some one approaching. I was pleased to see Riley of Mercer Island come into view. A minute or two later Medicine Pocket (Pocket for short) arrived. We chatted for a few minutes, each snacking, then loaded up and began hiking together. I found out it was Riley that was getting out of her tent as I started hiking this morning. Pocket is from Fairbanks, AK where she works at the high school with failing students. Riley just graduated from Princeton in neuroscience, but will seek employment at REI when she gets off the trail. She wants to work at the corporate headquarters in Bellevue. Both girls are delightful and we had a great conversation over the next four hours as we dropped 4000’ down the steep switchbacks to Beldon. While six miles and 4000’ above Belden the music of the festival came booming up. The debate was whether the festival was Jazz or Techno. It was techno. Halfway down Double D joined us, adding to the fun.

At the bottom of the hill the trail crosses a double set of railroad tracks then follows the road through the center of Beldontown.

Beldon is a party town, literally! Every weekend there is a festival of some kind attracting hundreds of people and four times a year there are major events attracting about 1500. We walked right through the middle of one of the big celebrations. Down off the side of the road toward the river were hundreds of tents packed wall to wall. People in all manner of weird dress were wandering up and down the road. Vendor booths were set up selling tie die, food and trinkets. The four of us walked through “town” and dropped our packs outside the main building in town, a bar, store, restaurant. We went in and found a booth. The service was slow. There were only two waitresses for a large room, but the food (hamburgers and fries all around) was good and the entertainment was non stop as one amazing tattooed-dredlocked-tiedyed-shimmering costumed customer after another strolled in to eat.

We left the restaurant about two, completed our stroll through town to the sweet smell of cannibas and crossed the bridge to the main highway, hoping to hitch a ride to the Caribou Crossroads Store about 1.7 miles up the highway. On the bridge we looked down to see hundreds of party goers on floaties out on the river bouncing to the music. They waved as we took pictures.

The main highway was under construction and was a one lane road with stoplights controlling the traffic. This made hitching a little different as the cars only came in pulses when the light turned green for east bound traffic. We tried to catch a ride through three cycles of the light to no avail. An awesome and terrifying rope swing out over the river caught Double D’s attention and he, Riley and Pouch were making their way down the embankment to give it a go when I caught a ride. The vehicle had two open seats amongst the clutter (think Wolfman in Toledo). I called back to the group and Double D scrambled back up the bank to catch the ride. The girls had been debating whether to hitch up to the store for a milk shake or just continue on the trail and the lack of a ride sealed their decision.

Double D and I climbed in with our packs on our laps, me in the front, he behind the driver and we were quickly at the store. Along the way we passed “Little Haven”, the trail angel I had mailed my resupply box to. Our driver was quite the character, a stoned out hippy from the 60’s with a Santana T-shirt on, about my age with about half my teeth. He asked if we smoked pot, wanting to share a joint. We politely said no. He went into the store, as did we.

The store is a combination tiny store with minimal snacks as supplies and a cafe with reportedly great milkshakes. Here we found Derek, Bailey, Logan and Braxton drinking shakes, charging phones and talking.

There is no ATT service anywhere near, and no WiFi. I had not contacted home for the past few days. Verizon had service, so I tagged onto Logan’s iPhone and called Sally to let her know I was okay and to catch up on the news. Then I called “Little Haven” to get my resupply. Brenda said for $10 I would get a bed, a shower and be able to wash my clothes but that I could not zero a day and spend two nights. She was headed up to the store to deliver or pickup some packages and would give me a ride down in about half an hour; long enough to have a chocolate shake and catch up with the gang.

Brenda arrived as described. Derek, Braxton and I loaded in her truck. She dropped me off at Little Haven and then took the other two down to Belden. They planned to hike a couple miles up the trail to a swimming hole, camp and then tackle the 5000’ climb out of the valley in the cool of the morning.

Brenda’s place, “Little Haven” is an old house with two wings. She lives in one wing with her husband. She donates the other wing to PCT hikers. Two bedrooms, a living room, bath and kitchen. Outside she has a laundry sink for hand washing clothing and a clothes line. All the waste water from the sink waters her strawberries.

I climbed up the front deck stairs, left my trekking poles in the appropriate bucket outside the door and entered the screen door to find Obe Wan inside sorting his food for the next leg of his hike. Obe Wan is a 43 year old from Amhearst, MA. We got along well all through the afternoon sharing lives and stories as I washed my clothes, bagged up my resupply, charged my devices and rummaged through the hiker food left by previous occupants.

What is the place like? Imagine a 1940’s house with peeling plaster walls, old wood cupboards, a mishmash of flooring from vinyl to fir to carpet chunks. Perfect for a PCT hiker who is filthy beyond description.

Brenda is an outgoing, energetic 60+ woman quick to laugh. She is kind, but runs her place with a firm hand. The gardens around the property show she likes to tinker outside.

By the time I got all my chores done, including a heavenly shower and catching up on my blog, it was nearly 9:45 pm, the latest I have been up for over a week and I was sorely tired. It was still about 85° out and in. I just laid on the bed and slept. What an awesome adventure!! Great people. Great trail. Great sites to see up close and personal.