PCT Day 65 – SoBo Flip – People I Know!

Campsite at Lassen NP boundary (mile 1365) to Campsite at Lassen NP southern boundary (mile 1346)

Total PCT miles hiked: 892

Due to our early start Keith (Starman) and I arrived at the Sierras when there was still a lot of snow, and decided it wasn’t safe to attempt a crossing given my skill level. We elected to flip up to northern California and hike southbound (SoBo) back to where we left off near Lone Pine – giving the snow a chance to melt out. During this flip the PCT milage will be counting down, but I’ll include a tally of our total milage hiked so that you can keep aprised of our progress in a linear fashion.

We are 15 miles into our 19 mile day when we see Lite Brite and Hulkspiration at the campground outside Drakesbad ranch. We had originally not planned to stop here and get into camp early for once. But with so few familiar faces it’s impossible to hike on without saying hello.

“People I know!” Shouts Hulkspiration as he comes marching out of the tent to greet us. It’s amazing to see them here after the Sierra threw everybody’s plans to the wind. Hulkspiration and Lite Brite also skipped around the Sierra but unlike us, got back on the trail at Sierra City and are heading north. The first thing to cover is trail gossip; hikers, after all, are no better than the blue haired Betty’s at the hair salon. Who is on the trail or off the trail, which folks are where, any various interpersonal drama. It’s like catching up on a reality show in which you’re also a contestant. But instead of being able to watch a neatly edited 60 minutes you need to piece together this weeks events from various social media accounts and second hand narratives. We find out a lot of the people hiking near us are either waiting out the snow in trail towns or else heading north to drier climes. There’s also a new round of people who are off the trail more permanently. It’s always sad to hear that someone’s hike is over, whatever the reason. I think most people come into a thru hike thinking they’re going to make it to the end, but some folks just don’t like the day to day reality of thru hiking, while others head home to preserve relationships, and others still are injured and they’re forced off.

Suddenly Hulkspiration asks if the lack of people up here is bothering us. I know what he means, with our flip up north we’ve gotten off the typical path and the lack of other hikers is jarring, especially when compared to the desert where proximity to the start ensures a high volume of hikers and limited water sources cause folks to bunch up. Since coming north two weeks ago we’ve seen maybe 12 other thru hikers. However, I can’t say that the solitude is bothersome. In some ways it’s very relaxing. Hulkspiration on the other hand says he’s being driven bonkers by the lack of people to talk to. It’s something I’ve heard echoed by hikers with experience in the AT, which is a trail known for its social atmosphere and higher density of hikers. A number of these folks have mentioned that on the PCT people are on their own schedules and time lines and that the desire to hike in a group is weaker than on the AT. It’s an interesting point, and one I’ll have to take him at his word on, having never stepped foot on the AT. But I see where he’s coming from.

When I was panic reading old blogs before the trail a lot of people emphasize their experience with fellow hikers. There is a lot of merit placed on the idea of a trail family. But so far bonding seems to happen mostly in town and we rarely spent more than a day actually hiking with folks, not just camping next to them. But maybe it’s just the difference in priorities. When I got on the trail I was the most apprehensive about the social aspect. Which in comparison to the physical feat I was about to undertake seems a little laughable. I was really excited to be outside in nature all day, to push my body, and to just hike. Hiking is deeply restorative for me, it feels central to who I am in a way that no career or college degree ever has. Somehow the idea of covering all those miles seemed more enticing, more comprehensible, than the act of navigating a moving ameoba of strangers.