Belden Town to Burney Falls
Tuesday, 7/18/00: In Which I Hit a Detour But Don’t Let That Slow Me Down
Inside my bug bivy the skeeters couldn’t get me but the trains sure did. The tracks were about 100 feet away and several trains went by in the night.
I left about 6:15 and marched across the bridge to the trailhead on the other side of Highway 70. There I was greeted by a “PCT Closed” sign, explaining I should take the Indian Creek Trail Reroute. Someone had scrawled that the route was poorly marked and gave vague directions. No map anywhere and near as I could surmise looking at my maps at least part of the reroute was off them.
I considered trying to stick to the PCT, but suspected that the closure reason (trail washouts and slides) was legitimate from what could see looking across the canyon while coming down yesterday. So I decided to trust I could follow the reroute and started up. And up and up. The river was at 2100 feet and I had to reach over 6000 feet. I did most of it by 10 AM when I hit a signed jeep road heading back toward the PCT. By 11:30 I was back on the official trail and stopped for “lunch” a short while later at a spring.
From there I headed on to the next water source, which would be the last on-trail water for 23 ½ miles. There I met Sundance, a young woman hiking by herself and we exchanged news before she headed off. I ate and saturated myself with water, filled my containers with another gallon.
By 5 I was on a ridge with a great view that included Mt. Lassen and I ate dinner there. From there I more or less circled around a valley winding up about dark on the opposite ridge from where I ate. I threw down my sleeping bag and called it a day.
Wednesday, 7/19/00: In Which I Reach the Halfway Point of My Journey and Reach Mt. Lassen National Park
I made an early start and went fairly easily through the morning hours. At the viewpoint looking northeast over Lake Almanor there was a wide layer of smoke from a fire I forgot to report on yesterday, which apparently was not out or under control.
Crossing the highway (89?) I met four folks unloading horses and hurried on trying to reach Stover Springs before they did. Just before I got there I passed a hiker-constructed stone monument noting the halfway point of the trail.
At the spring I got water and ate and the horse people were polite enough to water the horses downstream. Later we exchanged pleasantries and the man gave me advice on where to stay ahead. I carefully ignored the 6-shooter he carried in his holster.
About 4 I arrived again at the North Fork of the Feather River, this time 3000 feet higher than at Belden Town. I washed my feet and legs, had dinner and then crossed the bridge towards Lassen National Park.
I was trying to end up just short of a mosquito area I had been warned of, but kept running not impediments. First it was a couple of AT&T workers standing around who wanted to chat. The woman had a friend doing the PCT this year that she thought was at Tuolumne Meadows. Next I ran into Ant Newman heading southbound. I met Ant in ’98 in Washington the morning he had been moused. He had forgotten me but remembered losing his food to the mice. He took my picture with his digital camera so he could add it to his website which I have bookmarked at home.
I finally made it into the Park, signed the PCT register and hurried on. I came to a screeching halt at the Boiling Lake, a wonderful geothermal feature in the Park. From there I headed down past the dude ranch with people frolicking in the private hot spring heated swimming pool.
About dark (long after sunset) I reached Warner Valley campground, which I hoped to bypass and camp above on the ridge. When I saw they had bear boxes and given how late it was, I took a vacant site and figured I could deal with the campers light and noise.
Thursday, 7/20/00: In Which I Make Resupply at Old Station and Head On
The campground was quiet at night (or I slept thorough any noise). When I got up a little after 5 someone was already splitting wood for another fire. I climbed quickly from the campground to the ridge above and along the creek harboring mosquitoes. They weren’t too bad, but the trail was. A combination of swampy sections and blowdowns across the trail slowed me considerably. About the time the trail improved the mosquitoes began to regroup.
By midday I hit drier country and eventually exited the park. On the trail here I met a very large number (20+) young people working on the trail that I thanked for their efforts. I also chatted with one of their supervisors who was at the rear.
At Hat Creek I washed up some for my trip into Old Station. I got my boxes at the PO, forwarding the drift box without opening it and sorted the food. Then I got milk and a tomato at the store, did laundry and took a shower, and visited with several hikers I hadn’t met yet. The storeowner Doug was real friendly and had met his wife in Oregon (Newport).
At 6:30 I set off for the Hat Creek Rim, a famed hot, dry (30 miles between water holes), mostly shadeless place to get a start on it during the cool of the evening. Unfortunately I missed the side trail to the last water before climbing up there, so had to backtrack about half an hour.
With 5 quarts of water I camped along the trail ready to tackle the rim in the morning.
Friday, 7/21/00: In Which I Do Hat Creek Rim in a Day and End Up Hiking 37 Miles
I was up by 5 under the light of the mostly full moon and off by 5:50. I passed Brad and Dana who were camped just up the trail and began the trek. The first few miles had some tree cover, though the shade hardly mattered with the sun at the horizon.
By mid-morning all the trees were gone, either never there or destroyed in a forest fire in the 1980’s. Of course, the USFS was running cattle here. When not looking down to avoid cowshit, I could enjoy views of Mt. Lassen (south) and Mt. Shasta (north). I could also look longingly across Hat Creek Valley at the forested mountains on the other side. Even the clearcuts over there looked cooler than this godforsaken land, and it was no use wondering why the trail was here instead of there.
About 10:30 I met Joe at the site of the burned lookout tower (now some microwave station). He is one of the young, fast hikers and we hiked and talked for a couple hours, really eating up the miles. We found a water stash a hiker’s parents had left for all PCT hikers and I topped my bottle off. Nice to have a little extra.
When I stopped for a break, Joe went on, hoping to make Burney falls by nighttime. My immediate goal was the water at the first creek, which I reached about 4:15. The trail was rough (lots of lava) and one point passed along a dirt road the locals use as a dump. I guess you can tell what the local USFS office thinks of the National Scenic PCT. I stopped at the creek to rehydrate and cook dinner, though it was so hot I began to wonder why I would want anything hot.
With a little ambition I could have made Burney Falls by dark, but having gone nearly 30 miles already my drive to hike more was limited. I hiked around the PG&E dam and lakes in the area and stopped 3 or 4 miles from the park. I had hiked 37 miles, far more than ever before.
Saturday, 7/22/00: In Which I Reach Burney Falls State Park and Take the Day Off
I slept in until 6 and ambled off toward the Park and my resupply package at 7. I managed to miss the trail cutoff to the park (I found out later two other hikers did the same) and had to backtrack a mile. Somehow I had been expecting more people around the trail, but they were all by the falls.
I got my box, an ice cream cone (at 9 AM!), met some more hikers and then headed off to the backpacker tent site half mile away. There I met some more people, settled in and went off to take a shower.
Around noon I went to call home and buy some stuff at the store. When I returned three or four of the young guys had left, apparently to go to the PCTA-sponsored Crest Fest and the only hiker left was Steve, who I last saw at Agua Dulce with his girlfriend Melissa. We caught up on trail stories and shared doubts about our ability to finish. For some reason my doubt level rises whenever I take time off.
I sorted and repackaged my resupply box while Steve got ready to leave (he wanted to get in a few miles before dark). Then I went to see the falls, took a couple pictures, got some cheese at the store and came back to cook dinner. After cleaning up I read the paper some more and wrote a bit. About dark Nils, a bicyclist friend of Jim and Shari’s from Alaska, showed up and we chatted for a while before I went to bed without any sign of the guys whose gear was scattered around the campsite.