Snuffy’s 2014 Pacific Crest Trail Journal-Oregon Day 14

I’m up and out early today, hiking by 5:30am. The thought of lava beds, hot sun and little water has me moving to get to Lava Camp Lake. The only thing distracting me is a text from my son I received this morning that he did not have a good day yesterday. He’s on a mission trip in Alaska this week and my mind is trying to figure out what could possibly have gone wrong. It’s too early to call him! Did he lose his phone? His wallet? Break another bone? I quickly ruled out an injury, as I would have also received a call from the chaperones.

I made my way through more burn areas and around Mt. Washington. There was sand, sand, and more sand. Between the burn and as you enter the beginning of an older lava bed (distinguishable because it had more vegetation growth, there are blowdowns on the trail and it is easy to lose. Several northbounders warned me as I came upon it, and I ended up going straight and up when I should have veered right around a wall of lava (about mile 1995).

As I came back to the trail as I knew it, another hiker was coming from my left and I asked him if he was coming from the south. He said yes, but that that direction was not it. He was cradling his GPS in his hand, and as he approached me, insisted we were standing on the PCT. I pointed to the way I had come (the north) but he insisted that was the way he had come (the south) and took off up the ridge I had just erroneously tried. I tried to tell him again the trail to the north was right there but his GPS was more knowledgeable than me, I guess. As I checked my maps (confirming the veer to the right) I could hear him crashing and cursing above me on the ridge. Oh well, he was headed north and would get back to the trail eventually.

As I continued south I tried to tell as many folks as I could, the footprints go in all directions there. Of course, I never think about making a marker until I am well past the point it would be helpful.   I talked with a hiker in his thirties who looked so tired, which he confirmed as we spoke. He was looking forward to meeting his wife and family for a few zeros at Big Lake, the trail was wearing him down. He hailed from Tacoma. I met another hiker who was finishing his last day of his last section of Oregon; he had a big smile on his face.

The last miles into HWY 242 (Mackenzie Pass) take you over a newer lava bed and past a spur to Little Belknap (a cone in the middle of the field).

It is well worth the hike up, with 360 degree views of the area. There is even a little shelter wall with a bench to sit on. From here, the wind carries the voices of hikers just coming up from the trailhead.

I continued down to that trailhead through the rock, amazed at the little bits of vegetation bringing new life into this barren land.

As I approached the trailhead, there was a family looking for the PCT southbound. They followed me as a crossed the highway, the wife asking me questions about my journey. They hoped to hike up 5 miles to a view of the glacier (I assumed the one on North Sister?) and I wished them a happy hike as I turned off towards camp at Lava Camp Lake.

Are you wondering how my feet did during the walk of lava rock? Well, one of the hikers at Big Lake warned me about it (the one with the red feet?) and so I preemptively took some pain medication. It was a cake walk…

The trailhead was a full one, it was a Friday afternoon and there were a few groups of backpackers hiking out for the weekend. I made my way up to the campsites close to the lake; taking one next to the privy around 1:30pm (Elizabeth is arriving tomorrow at noon).

The sites are free and designed for RV pull in. I saw that 3-4 other sites were taken; including what I assumed was a group of Boy Scouts. This was later confirmed as Ethan, a young man around 13 years old, stopped by to say hello, welcome me, and tell me all about his group’s itinerary as they worked on their 50 mile badge. I got the feeling he was a little different and feeling a bit isolated from his group. This was later confirmed when the group was hanging out at the lake and the only name I heard being yelled by the adults was Ethan’s. Seemed he was moving to the beat of a different drum, at least one not playing the same speed the grownups would like. You know the kind that really tests your patience. The kind that I believe the Boy Scouts can really be meaningful to.   Stepping off my soapbox now.

I wasn’t quick at getting water from the lake before the boys moved in to swim (“Look, I got all clean without using any soap!”), so I made my way over to the other side of the lake (no, not the one with the folks and their dogs) and got water I felt was going to last me until tomorrow. A swim had looked inviting, but not anymore.   Did all these folks bring water with them? Even the Scouts?

I eventually heard from my son, who had been chastised for too much PDA with the girlfriend at the church hosting the mission trip (Southern Baptist) and threatened to be sent home. He says they were only holding hands and kissing goodnight, so what can a mom say but, “Aren’t you glad you weren’t raised Baptist?” We had talked about appropriate behavior before he left (focusing on the work) and he was upset because he felt he had really been appropriate. The chaperones confirmed everything was as he said and luckily he only had one more day at the church before they headed home.

It was a quiet night at camp after the Scouts went to sleep and I drifted off looking forward to my resupply tomorrow and a friend joining me on my journey.