Categories
PCT Reflections

The Impassable PCT

To hike the Pacific Crest Trail in one season has always been a difficult proposition for all but the speediest of hikers. In the south, one must cross the desert sections before it is too hot, navigate the Sierra after the snow clears sufficiently from the high passes, and complete the North Cascades before the snow starts. Those historical barriers are trivial compared to the unprecedented wildfires that have engulfed the western US. Two days ago, the PCT was closed on all national forests in California, ending the journey for all southbound thru-hikers and section hikers.

Fire Incidents in California follow the PCT route through most of the state.
(source: Information Incident System, Aug 2, 2021, https://inciweb.nwcg.gov/)

This year, I thread the needle by starting at the end of March and hiking some of the northern California sections while the Sierra snow melted. I also covered 22.5 miles per day versus my plan of 17, thereby reducing my hiking time by almost 40 days. These decisions certainly improved my chances of hiking the entire trail. I started facing the effect of fires at Mt. Shasta, and they continued for the next 1,150 miles in Oregon and Washington. The smoke reduced my views and made me nervous, but I did not need to leave the trail. I was lucky. Even before the total closure, north-bound hikers behind me dodged fires in Northern California and had to skip hundreds of miles of the beautiful forests that I hiked only a month earlier. I fear that the 2022 PCT hikers will face hundreds of miles of devastated forests or, more likely, face trail closures in much of California.

My most challenging day on the PCT was a 30-mile hike through the 2020 North Complex fire during the heatwave in late June. The overwhelming sense of loss, combined with searing heat from above and reflected heat from the glassified soil, took everything out of me.
The fire killed 16 people, including a 16-year-old boy, and injured more than 100. The complex burned an estimated 318,935 acres.

What are the experts saying about wildfires?

In August, the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) published its 4,000-page Working Group I Sixth Assessment Report on the state of Climate Change worldwide. The IPCC is sponsored by the United Nations and World Meteorological Organization. Chapter 11 of the report discusses “Weather and Climate Extreme Events in a Changing Climate.” What the research and climate models are showing, and what we are all experiencing, is the increased frequency and severity of these climate events. For example, only twice in recorded history have wildfires started on the western side of the Sierra and burned through the Sierra to the eastern side. They are both happening right now. The Dixie and Caldor fires alone have already burned more than 1M acres, and South Lake Tahoe may not survive. The toxic smoke from these mega-fires and many more are causing hazardous air quality eastward for up to 1000 miles.

"It is an established fact that human-induced greenhouse gas emissions have led to an increased frequency and/or intensity of some weather and climate extremes since pre-industrial time, in particular for temperature extremes." (pg 2776, line 17-19)

Compound events, where multiple extreme events of either different or similar types occur simultaneously and/or in succession, may be more probable or severe in the future. These compound events can often impact ecosystems and societies more strongly than when such events occur in isolation. For example, a drought along with extreme heat will increase the risk of wildfires and agriculture damages or losses. As individual extreme events become more severe as a result of climate change, the combined occurrence of these events will create unprecedented compound events. This could exacerbate the intensity and associated impacts of these extreme events." (pg 2889, line 32-38)
     IPCC Working Group I Sixth Assessment Report
When you are hiking, you often only see smoke. How do we protect ourselves?
Photo by Mike Lewelling, National Park Service, featured on the Pacific Crest Trail Association website.

What can thru-hikers do?

The first thing is that we need to protect ourselves while hiking on the trail. The Pacific Crest Trail Association (PCTA) has published a page on this very topic, How to react to wildfires. I, for one, was not aware of some of the measures hikers need to take in the presence of smoke. Thru-hikers frequently don’t have mobile connectivity to monitor websites tracking wildfires, and the fires change direction and intensity rapidly. Fortunately, Pleasure-Way was monitoring wildfires and weather and sending me information on my Garmin satellite device. I will write the PCTA and Garmin to see how hikers could be warned more effectively through their satellite devices. Many hikers carry these devices, and it is common to share information and even let hikers who do not have them use them for communication.

This picture of a PCT thru-hiker running for their life after the Chimney Fire took over a campground makes the risk we face very real.
Photo by Elliot Schwimmer featured on the Pacific Crest Trail Association website.

All is not lost. The IPCC report outlines how a worldwide effort to cut carbon emissions rapidly to eliminate them by 2050 could cap preindustrial global warming at 1.5 degrees Celsius. Even that best-case scenario means we will experience one new extreme climate event after another. Doing nothing and allowing the global temperature to rise 3 or 4 degrees Celsius will further increase the frequency and magnitude of compound events and lead to the death of countless living organisms, including humans. There is no better example of putting the saying, “think globally, act locally,” into action.

Categories
Hiking the PCT

Leaving Hotel California

"Welcome to the Hotel California
Such a lovely place (Such a lovely place)
Such a lovely face
Plenty of room at the Hotel California
Any time of year (Any time of year)
You can find it here

Last thing I remember, I was
Running for the door
I had to find the passage back
To the place I was before
"Relax, " said the night man,
"We are programmed to receive.
You can check-out any time you like,
But you can never leave!"

<start massive air guitar solo here>
                    Don Henley / Glenn Lewis Frey / Don Felder

The theme song for this blog has been running through my head for 400 miles. I was wondering whether I would ever leave. The California section of the PCT is overwhelming, 1692 miles and a gross elevation gain of 257K feet. And true to the song, the majority of PCT hikers never leave. An estimated 80% of hikers that start the PCT do not finish, and from my observations, most drop out before hitting the Oregon border. It took me 79 hiking days and 22 miles a day to leave. I was struck when standing here that almost two-thirds of the journey is behind me – even more reason to savor every day.

Only the northern terminus milestone on the US/Canadian border is more significant to me than completing California. It felt so good to hike the 20 miles through the Siskiyous and into Ashland through thick forests. I found the passage back to the place I was before.

My blog and photos have been a walking ad for the beauty of California, a great state, to be sure. As I leave, I also have some friendly feedback for the state that considers itself Oregon’s big brother. First, was it really necessary to wind all over the place to see every mountain range? The drive from the Oregon border to Mexico on I-5 is 807 miles. So why did you ask the PCT thru-hikers to hike over twice that many miles? I feel that you are trying a bit too hard to affirm your status. Oregon, home to the humble and efficient beavers, asks hikers to walk 460 miles compared to a 309 mile drive up I-5. We have other incredible sights to share, like the Alvord Desert and the Eagle Cap Wilderness. We could have used a zigzag course and pushed the miles up to a respectable 700 or so. The same is true for Washington. We are missing the Olympic National park, how about a thru-hiker ferry ride?

You get my point; I love you, California, but now I am excited to come home to the forests, bugs, and volcanos. We got this, and you are welcome to visit and leave whenever you want. Here are some funky photos to close this chapter of the journey.

Good intentions aside, this sign on Mt. Laguna from my third day wins the award for least helpful and most discouraging.
The Coulter Pine wins the award for best pine cone. The cones have half-inch knife-like hooks and can weigh up to 11 pounds. No wonder Coulter pines carry the nickname of “widowmakers,” but I believe most life insurance policies exclude this cause of death.
Near Deep Creek Canyon, I kept hearing revving engines. The trail crossed this “road,” which turns out to be a famous off-road challenge course. And people think hiking 12 hours a day is wacko.
The trail passed under I-15, and I just kept walking towards the light. Then I started wondering whether that is what I was supposed to do.
Vasquez Rocks in Agua Dulce brings trail weary PCT hikers through one of Hollywood’s favorite movie sets. Before clicking on this link, test your movie trivia skills and name at least two movies set in this location.
Hiker Town is the “gateway” to the 40-mile trek across the Mojave Desert. The owner gave me a 30′ description of how he bought the land when he learned that then-Governor Schwarzenegger planned to create a subdivision for 100K people in this area. After buying it, he was shocked that homeless people kept stopping by asking for water. It was then he learned about the PCT. The housing development never happened due to a lack of water, so he and his wife created an oasis that is free for the many thru-hikers that pass each year.
We stopped at a remote campground and were invited to join this group of men that had prepared cornish game hens and other goodies for thru-hikes. It turns out that we were being hosted by the current PCTA Board President and other board members.
My son Scott is featured in the best sunset photo, and it also captures how tough it is to choose one’s freeze-dried dinner after a long day. I think biscuits and gravy was the winner.
Scott and I were trying to figure out where Forester Pass was from the top of Mt. Whitney. Good thing there are trails and navigation apps or we would still be wandering around out there.
I loved this DIY Trail Angel stop in the middle of nowhere with all the things a hiker might need and even solar lights for late-night hikers.
Limit Situation Trail Magic was unbelievable. This group of friends set up four days a week to support PCT hikers. The food was amazing; custom-made pizza, homemade burgers, and salads. They even gave us their really cool bandana. If hikers want, you can stay for the evening, and they will cook breakfast. Really good people who feel that spending time in nature is a worthwhile and important experience.
My most dangerous fall came while trying to cross this snowfield before Carson Pass. With the rest of the hikers, I believed the snow was behind us and did not have microspikes. I fell while crossing above the snowfield with exposure to over a hundred-foot steep fall into the rocks. Somehow, I pushed off as I fell and landed on the trail. Every step matters and this one was a massive wake-up call.
The PCT maps missed the fact that we were crossing through the State of Jefferson. Apparently, Seiad Valley was the epicenter to get statehood back in the 1930s, and then WW2 got in the way. The general store has all the State of Jefferson items for sale that you might be looking for. Any aspiring graphic artists might want to help them out with their logo.
Pleasure-Way has been hiking out with me or meeting me at the end of sections. This picture is heading north out of Sonora pass.

Categories
PCT Reflections

Wishing you were here

I have turned the corner and started to head north again. I am taking a zero and will restart the trail on mile 511. I have achieved a significant milestone – crossing the 500-mile mark, but it is bittersweet. I had to skip miles 486 – 511 due to a trail closure because of the Lake Fire. This is the second section of the trail closed by recent forest fires.

Ideas for what to write typically come and go. This post has been with me for three weeks emotionally, even though the pieces don’t seem evident on an intellectual level. Sharing what I am experiencing on the trail can feel like trying to explain a dream to someone – so please bear with me.

Apache Peak fire after 12 years

As soon as I started climbing mountains in Southern California, I experienced the scale and devastation of their wildfires. Many areas of the trail have been closed due to unstable soil and the danger of falling debris. The above photo from Apache Peak shows the damage 12 years later. I live in the northwest; I am used to hiking through some burned sections of the forest. But here, it is the norm – day after day.

Ten miles north of Apache Peak

I noticed my pattern of ignoring the burned sections and pushing through to the lush forest. The dense forests along the PCT in Southern California are few and far between. I understand that forest fires play a role in natural ecosystems. Still, we have crossed into a new regime of fires that burn hotter and more frequently fueled by higher temperatures, frequent interaction with humans, and misguided fire suppression methods.

Holding the wisdom of generations

I’ve always had a thing for trees. I befriend trees in our local forests and look forward to visiting them. I feel comforted by them, and they give me a sense of wisdom that spans the generations. On the trail, I have started touching them to connect on a different level and sometimes even chew on a small piece of bark. Many date back 400 years or more, and although they are independent, they survive together. Thru-hiking into a grove immediately calls me to attention.

Los Angeles Forest (taken by “Twister”)

To see even one, let alone scores of these wise giants, fall together gives me a feeling of extreme loss. They know how to withstand fires, and by the time they reach maturity, they have seen many fires come and go, and their bark bears these scars. But they were not built to withstand the infernos of these times.

Bill and I playing in the White Clouds

The unexpected and tragic loss in the natural environment has frequently brought me back to those I have lost in life. My brother loved sharing wilderness adventures, was as kind, strong, and determined as they come, and became a kid when he was outdoors. We became two kids, the same ones who shared a bedroom for most of our childhood and talked about everything under the sun. He was swept away by cancer too young. He would have been so engaged in my hike, whether on the trail or giving me his full support.

Walking the trail provides a constant reminder of how fragile and precious life is – including the lives of all that share the earth with us.