Days 88-91

Day 88, 27 miles, endpoint PCT mile 1259

Max, Josh and I left out camping spot at Duck Soup Pond and began our last longish uphill for quite awhile. After that it was a long, long 18 mile descent to the highlight of our day: the Feather River.

Despite a pain in my foot that was a strong annoyance all day, we made the 19 miles to the river by 1:00. It was starting to heat up, so we immediately hopped into the river and enjoyed a natural bath. The Feather River looked like something you might see in Oregon: about 20 feet wide, the water flowed fast and hard, crashing against large boulders and creating small white water splashes. The water also pooled up against certain spots along the edges where rocks created small, calm pockets of water. This is where we enjoyed the water, which was cold enough to cool us down, but warm enough to sit in for long periods of time.

We spent several hours at the river; while there we took a nap and cooked our dinner. But we needed some more miles in, so we reluctantly left the water oasis and began trudging up the river canyon wall. Leaving the river we faced a 2,800 foot climb, completing most of it before calling it a night. Even though we normally would never camp next to the trail, the only spot we could find during the long, cliffside uphill was exactly that--a spot near the trail. It's not our favorite camping spot, but for tonight it will have to do.

This little guy joined us for lunch.

National Wild River status

Middle Fork of the Feather River.  Perfect temperature for swimming.

Trail views

Day 89, 6 miles, endpoint PCT mile 1265/Quincy, CA

I slept with my foot elevated last night, thinking when I woke up it would be all good to go. First thing in the morning, though, I could tell this would not be the case. I pulled my foot out from under my quilt and saw it was grossly swollen. When I stepped out of the tent, I could barely put any weight on it. When I did step on it, I had a burning pain pulse through my entire foot. I awkwardly hobbled around camp as we packed up, biting my lip and trying to get bad, terrible, my-trip-is-coming-to-an-end thoughts out of my mind.

We told Max to go ahead without us, as I surely would not be getting anywhere fast and I didn't want to hold him back. I stuffed my fat foot into my shoe, barely able to tie up the laces, swallowed a couple of ibuprofen pills, and started hiking. It was the only thing I could do.

We still had a couple hundred feet of wooded uphill, so up we went until the top of the hill opened up wide for us and we had views for miles of Plumas National Forest. I made it very slowly and painfully, but I was moving. We then had a nice, gentle downhill. Four miles from our campsite, at a place called Lookout Rock, we saw a sign for a couple near Bucks Lake who offer hiker services (showers, laundry, wi-fi, etc.) for PCT hikers. With my foot feeling the way it was, we decided this would be a good place to go to figure things out.

At about six miles from our campsite we crossed over paved Big Creek Road near Bucks Lake Recreation Area. We called the number from the sign and Nancy came to pick us up within minutes. She took us to her beautiful cabin with a large deck in a quiet wooded area two miles from the trail. There we had breakfast burritos and pancakes and caught up with some hikers, including Max, who also made a stop at the cabin.

Josh and I decided that my foot was in bad enough shape that it needed to be checked out. Nancy's husband Terry drove us about 18 miles to the town of Quincy, which had a small community hospital. I hobbled up to the Emergency Room, which literally was just a room with a guy behind a desk. Luckily, the x-ray was negative for fracture; the doctor explained the swelling as tendonitis, recommended I stop hiking, and encouraged ibuprofen, rest, and icing.

I was relieved that my foot wasn't broken, but felt unsure what to do next. The swelling seemed to be getting worse and I had shooting pains with every step. We decided on a hotel room to buy us some time. When we asked the x-ray tech who walked by for directions to our chosen hotel, the Gold Pan Lodge,  he responded by saying, "I'll take you there!" Just another example of the kindness of strangers we have met throughout the trip.

I spent the rest of the day continually getting ice from the machine in the hotel lobby, propping my foot up on pillows, popping anti-inflammatories, and praying to the hiking gods that my foot will magically heal. I am faced with the reality that I may be done hiking, at least momentarily.

Trail views

Trail views

What would an adventure like this be without a trip to the E.R.?

Day 90,  0 miles, still in Quincy

Not much to report from today. My foot is still swollen and I still can't really walk on it. I'm having depressing thoughts about this hike coming to a premature end, although I don't know for sure what will happen yet. Josh ordered a one-man tent in the case he hikes on without me, which I think may have to happen.  We are staying at the hotel one more night, then will move on somewhere tomorrow. To be continued...

Stuck in a hotel for an amazing sunset :(

Day 91, 1 mile, endpoint PCT mile 1266

Yes! We are back on the trail! Fingers are still crossed that my foot is healing, but we are on the trail nonetheless. Here's how we got here:

I woke up with a feeling of dread since my foot was still painful and swollen. I iced a couple more times in the hotel room until we had to be out of there at 11am. We went to a local bookstore in Quincy that offered computer access and printing. We printed out a shipping label for a box of things we decided to mail ahead (our down coats and rain pants since it is hot as hell in this stretch of Northern California, some extra food, a bottle of sunscreen, and some photography gear Josh won't need) and killed time until we could go to the post office, which didn't accept outgoing packages until 2pm. While there we bought a book to carry: a collection of writing by John Muir, which seemed appropriate, as the PCT travels through some of Muir's favorite lands.

While still in town we also touched base with Josh's mom. She went to the REI in Portland and picked up a one-man tent Josh bought over the phone. We are still not sure if I'm going to drop out completely, drop out temporarily, or not drop out at all, but having the one-man tent at least gives Josh the option of going on without me. Josh's mom Mary Pat has been our shipping guru, sending stuff to us on the trail when we need it and storing the stuff we send back that we don't need. It has been incredible having her support. She will send the tent and some other items to us in the next town. Also, it is worth noting, Josh already owns a one-man tent, but it is buried somewhere in our storage unit in Portland. With this purchase, it puts the number of tents he owns into double digits.

Mary Pat also offered, without hesitation, to drive down to California, pick me up, and stay with me or take me anywhere I might need to go (such as the next town stop, where I could meet up with Josh if he was hiking alone). I almost cried when she told us this, and for a moment wanted nothing more than for her to come down and hang out with me while I was off the trail. But, it hadn't come to that, yet, and was really too much to ask of her, so we told her to stay put for now.

After the bookstore and the post office, Josh and I made the decision that I just needed to hike. If it got worse, I would be off the trail and no worse than where I already was. There really was no other option. 

When we were at the hospital two days ago we met a woman named Connie who lives in Quincy. After chatting with her for awhile, she offered to take us back to the trail. We didn't go back to the trail that day, but after calling her, she was more than happy to take us today. I could tell right when I met her that Connie is one of those warm hearted people willing to help anyone out. Connie and her friend Robin picked us up in town and the four of us drove back up the hill towards the Buck's Lake area and the PCT.

About halfway up the steep mountain road Connie's little Corolla started slowing down. Really slowing down. Connie pulled over just as smoke began to seep out from under the hood. As she put it in park there was a loud bang that made us all jump, followed by gushing white plumes of smoke. Her car was busted. And so were our plans to get back to the trail.

Our insurance covers roadside assistance even if we are the passengers, so we called for a tow and waited by the side of the road. When the tow came, we drove back with it to an intersection where we thought we could get more traffic to hitch to the trail. We said our goodbyes to Connie (feeling very guilty that it was our trip up the mountain that made her car go boom) and waited. It was now close to 6pm and only a few cars passed. Finally a truck stopped and a woman inside said she could take us part way, which we agreed to.

The part way really wasn't far; after getting out of the truck we were alone on the windy road. Faced with limited daylight, we knew we had to walk. We trudged uphill slowly. The few cars that passed didn't respond to my outstretched thumb. We had miles to go to even get to the trail. Things were not looking good.

When things look bad, that's usually when something good happens. And it did: we got a ride! A nice couple with two dogs in their pickup bed let us hop in the back. As we rode along in the breezy pickup bed I realized how far we would have had to go and thanked the hiking gods for the ride we snagged.

So here we are, barely one mile back down the trail, camped and waiting to find out how my foot will feel tomorrow. Here's hoping.

The Happy Hooker tow service.

Not our best campsite but we were really happy to be out of the hotel and back on the trail.