Monotony Plus Company (PCT Day 42)

We awake at 6 am to the sounds of other hikers rustling outside their tents. Given the proximity of everyone, it’s difficult to sleep in. We let the air out of our sleeping pads and squeeze our sleeping bags into stuff sacks. Lupine crawls from the tent first and starts water for coffee. I pack my gear then begin tearing down the tent. 

“Is anyone missing a pair of balled up socks?” one hiker asks. “If so, I just saw a squirrel take off with them.”

We are one of 7 tents camped in this area, one on top of the other. In addition there’s one guy cowboy camping as well. That makes a total of 9 people. Our tent is right next to Sirachas, and the cowboy camper is other the other side of him. Chef has two tents right next to him as well, and the occupants are up early. Swifty, who we met in Hiker Town has the best spot of all, below everyone else, sitting next to a tree.

As we prepare breakfast the other hikers move on. Some others travel through. Not eager to continue being part of a crowd, we take our time to move on. Chef emerges from his tent, not pleased with his tent neighbors he has last night. 

Lupine and I take off down the trail behind Sriracha. The gap between us builds as we move. The scenery this morning is beautiful as we first tuck under trees, spotting two deer down the trail, who spring away as we approach. 

Soon the trail turns into a construction site. We cross a dirt road that’s torn up, and trucks are far as can be seen. Dump trucks are in the distance, lined up in a procession up the hill. The trail weaves below the road, as construction vehicles drive overhead. We approach a turn in the trail where large boulders have rolled down from above. Further along we hear the beeping of a bulldozer as it backs down a steep stone hill. As we pass below it, it drives up and down packing the stone, filling the air with noise. 

As we build distance the air quiets. But the landscape becomes monotonous. No trees, just scrub, like we’ve seen before for hundreds of miles. We pass through an area where a previous burn once came. We spot Poodle Dog Bush and carefully dodge it. It’s turning into a tough day. The sun beams onto the land, cooking us along with the soil. 

We are tired of walking. We are tired of the scenery. We are discouraged by the number of hikers we’ve seen in the past day. We hope the crowds will thin out to what we had before. 

We emerge over a small hill and spot Sriracha taking a break on a rock. We join him and have a snack. We still have about 12 miles to water. 

We remain on the rock resting after Sriracha leaves. Chef approaches and we talk to him, before continuing on the trail. He’s frustrated today. This morning he awoke to the hikers camped right next to him. Then he noticed garbage throughout the campsite and cleaned it up. Annoyed by a fire ring, he also tore it down, flinging rocks into the forest.

Lupine and I have a shared disdain for campfires in California. When you walk through so much burn, and know California’s history of wildfires and how they start, it seems insane to have a campfire. The countryside is a tinderbox, and seldom is it ever cold enough to need a fire. Occasionally, you’ll find a circular steel fire pit placed by the parks, where fires are allowed. I still don’t think it’s a good idea to have one, but it’s better than the self-made firepits, that hikers make from stones. These are the types of pits the national parks don’t allow and rangers break up when they find. 

Needless to say, Lupine and I share in Chef’s frustration.

Sharing some camaraderie lifts our spirits slightly as we hike on. We’re then encouraged when trees appear again. We hike upward into a forest, with green grass bordering the trail. Pines provide some shade. Then the trail lifts upwards. 

The trail goes like this for miles, winding through pines, then hitting upward. No switchbacks. Just up. Occasionally I look out and can still see wind turbines, spinning in the distance. My phone is running out if battery. I could use their help right now. But I’m off grid, and on a trail, upward bound.

Eventually, again we run into Sriracha, resting on a rock. We last saw him about 6 miles ago. We join him for lunch, chatting in the shade. We all agree the previous hill was relentless and harder than we expected. Then Chef shows up as well, and breaks with us in the shade. We somehow get on the subject of zoos, and orcas. We are all tired, with 8 more miles to water. Lupine, out if curiosity, tried on Sriracha’s pack and almost tumbles over. We all laugh and it feels good. Then we all strap on the correct packs, and continue on the trail.

The trail winds it’s way through a forest of trees, knocked over by a windstorm. The trail intersects them and we climb over, or divert around them when their too big to easily cross over. I’m just happy to not be in a burn again. 

After the down trees we continue upward again. A hiker passes us. I notice tattoos on his legs as he passes. I wonder if that’s a thru-hiker thing  I’ve seen it several times, enough to wonder. I personally don’t like leg tattoos. But I suppose if you’re hiking in shorts, they’d be visible to share. Off trail you can wear slacks and they’re covered, comb your beard and then look professional.

We continue through the trees. My legs are tired today, ankles and heels so sore. The heat is there as well, squeezing the water from my pores. As we hike another group of two hikers come up behind us, and we step aside to let them by. In the last two days we’ve seen more hikers than at any point on the trip. I’m annoyed. 

“They should get off trail” I say to Rachel, and she laughs at my grumpiness. 

“Dear…” she responds. 

“Well they should” I retort. I know I’m being ridiculous. I know we must share the trail. I wish we had it to ourselves, yet I know we’re no more deserving or special. Still I am annoyed. I don’t want these new people on the trail, crowding campsites like last night. I already like the people I’ve met and been hiking with. I don’t have room in my life for these newbies.

I lament to Lupine because she listens, and sometimes you just need someone to field your unfounded frustrations.

We stop for a brief bathroom break. Chef catches up and we talk, then push upward again. The trail turns into a road. It climbs steeply then divides to aisels of green grass. Trees cast shade from overhead. It’s nice to be shaded. The road then turns back into the trail and we find ourselves at a sign for Robin Bird Spring. We’ve pushed for 18 miles, and finally arrived to the water. I stumble down the trail, dragging my feet, as Lupine walks ahead. 

Water trickles from a pipe into a large cistern. Five people sit nearby talking loud and laughing. They’re ones I recognize from earlier who passed us. I’m less annoyed than earlier, but still I am annoyed, because I’m a cactus and I need space. I toss my bag down next to Lupines, against a fence post. Then I crumple next to my pack, relieved to take the weight from off my feet.

Soon Chef arrives, and Sriracha. We have plans to continue on, to bypass this group of hikers. But we overhear their plans to hike two miles on to the next campsite. That means it will surely be crowded there. We contemplate going further but we are tired, and the spring is quiet as the hikers leave. “What if we just stay here?” Sriracha proposes.

Nobody is opposed to it. We decide to hang back. Hopefully this means we’ve let the wave of hikers pass and so tomorrow will be less busy. We like the idea and we each settle in to our camp, pitching tents and cooking dinner.

It’s a beautiful night. Sriracha cowboy camps and we pitch out tents.