August 2016 – Page 8 – Marcus

CS1710 to Ashland – 8-6

Today was a short day. We only had about 7 miles to Callahan’s Lodge, where I’d pick up my repaired phone, and hitch into Ashland for some zeroes.

The trail was downhill and easy, but a bit overused and had a lot of road crossings. We ran into Coppertone at one of them, but didn’t stop for a root beer float, since we were so close to town.

Apparently, someone actually packs MREs. Someone who drops all their garbage by the side of the trail just a few miles outside town. I carried these to Callahan's dumpster.

Another regulatory boundary. I tried to lean to match the leaning post.

Ashland's Pilot Rock, on the left, is a volcanic plug left over from a volcano whose exterior eroded away. That mountain on the right looks familiar, too.

We approached Old Highway 99 and Interstate 5 on paved road

We hitched a ride into town with a man who worked at the Mt. Ashland Ski Resort. I mentioned that I’d read about it, and it sounded nice — a Yelp review had told a story about showing up without ski pants, and an employee letting him borrow his personal ski pants. “Oh! That was me!” said our hitch.

In Ashland, we had lunch and stopped at the Caldera Tap House, which is maybe my favorite brewery. The Rauch Ür Bock, Coconut Porter, and Mogli beers were all terrific.

Afterwards, we did laundry at the Stratford Hotel, since there were no laundromats for miles, and they didn’t ask if we were guests. Then, we went to our separate bed and breakfasts, and started some time off.

Caldera Beer and laundry access -- hikers' paradise

I’d be staying a day longer than Elizabeth, so we’re splitting up here, and probably won’t be hiking together again for a couple weeks or so. This should be a new backpacking experience — I’ll see how it goes.

My shoes were due for replacement, but had been discontinued a couple weeks before I got into town. We'll see how the Altra Lone Peak 3.0 model is.

The rest of my time in Ashland was great. The Granite Tap House had great fish and bread. The Black Sheep makes a good rarebit. Mix makes a good affogato. Just about everything in Ashland is at least pretty nice.

Some restaurants try a bit too hard to be different

Ashland is known for their Shakespeare festival. This year’s Winter’s Tale was slow going at times, but the outdoor theater and costuming were great as always.

CS1685B to CS1710 – 8-5

Today was another simple day. Get up, hike, eat, find water…

But today, we finished California.
.

I am now free to busk, wear flowing robes of tie-dye, and hang beads in doorways

As if from the Oregon Welcoming Committee, it started raining a few hours after we'd entered Oregon. If you look carefully, you can see the raindrops in the trail.

And we crossed the 1700 mile marker soon after.

I continued to deal with my food resupply mistake, and had tortilla with peanut butter and Nutella for both lunch and dinner. That has a lot of calories, but can be hard to stomach in thru-hiker quantities.

I noticed the Seiad Valley peanut butter was the jar you get at Dollar Tree. It was $2.50 in Seiad Valley.

Today had some sights of course.

I think that's Ashland's famous Pilot Rock in the distance, after which Caldera's porter is named

The trail took many different forms today, many of them gently-sloped

It became a nice day to be outdoors, after the drizzle let up

I was curious what the lines in this hill are for

We stopped at the last campsite before Callahan’s Lodge. Callahan’s is a traditional stop on the PCT, and they give hikers a free beer, but we would’ve had to hike late to get there, and it costs money to camp there.

As we ate dinner, a man playing an acoustic travel guitar strolled down the trail. He ignored us, and just walked on by, playing his song. He had no backpack, just the guitar, and a hoodie tied around his waist. There were no campsites in the direction he was walking, but he was gone before we could ask any questions. We’ll probably never see him again, but he was a definite sign we’re nearing Ashland.

The red line is the PCT, the blue dot is where I am

CS1660 to CS1685B – 8-4

Today was a simple day. We got up, we walked, we camped. There was some eating and water-gathering in between, but nothing too complicated.

I realized this morning that I’d miscounted meals when resupplying in Seiad Valley. No wonder my food bag was so light — I was missing a dinner and breakfast. But, so long as I can stomach eating peanut butter and Nutella by the sporkful, I’ll only be a little hungry on the way to Ashland.

I’d like to make a point about Mt. Shasta. You can see it from really, really far away. I realize that it’s big, but look at this map:

Map of the PCT in Northern California and Southern Oregon

The red line is the PCT. See how the PCT takes a big turn westward near the end of California, and goes halfway across the state? Shasta is just north of the PCT at a point a little after it turns west.

The blue dot near the California/Oregon border is where I am now. We’ve been seeing Shasta on and off for the entire detour. Mt. Shasta is big, but I never thought I’d see it across half the state.

Shasta. It's still there. And would make a good curse word.

Aside from Shasta, there were many vistas on this section of the trail.

An extremely rare picture of Northern California that does not include Mt. Shasta

There was also much flora on this leg of the journey, mostly in damp valleys.

Does this fungus count? They're the size of dinner plates.

And, there was a flying Mickey Mouse hat.

The last time I hiked this section, two years ago, there had been a sorry attempt at building a shelter by the side of the trail. Somebody had nailed beams to trees, made a couple walls of plywood, and put carpet down on the forest floor. Now the carpet was still there, but the rest was in poor shape.

We set up camp a bit early had dinner, and started getting ready for bed. Until suddenly, a cacophony of bells and chimes of different pitches started moving through the forest towards us.

I was expecting a hippie musical expedition in the woods, not cattle with tuned cowbells

When the herd had passed us by, we went to bed.