PCT mile 1169 – on a smoky ridge

@ 39.4251, -120.4194

Had breakfast at the lodge and bid farewell to the lovely folks there, one of whom was kind enough to offer a ride back to the trailhead.

A good thing too, as my feet are not as strong as my legs yet and still feel bruised and stiff. A 2 mile road walk would not help them at all.

The 3-mile stretch between the old Donner Pass road (US40) and I-80 was filled with day hikers. The trail goes right by the summit rest area and I stopped in to see about getting a cold soda but found the machine jammed.

The day hikers were replaced by backpackers, but their numbers declined quickly after passing side trails to nearby destination lakes and I saw no one the whole afternoon. I expect the trail will be fairly desolate between here and Lassen NP.

This is an unfamiliar country to me, the northern Sierra. As a teenager I camped and backpacked frequently in the mountains between Sonora Pass and Walker Pass, but rarely ventured north of Lake Tahoe.

The mountains are much lower here, with no peaks above 10,000 feet, and less rugged as well. There are a few sharp volcanic spires, but most of the terrain is still granitic, and forms long domes and loaves rather than cliffs and pinnacles. It’s a more open country, at least what I can see of it through the smoke.

It’s also a country of big trees, especially in the sheltered valleys. I’m unfamiliar with most of them. A very striking fir grows to a hundred feet or more and is topped with maturing cones that look like piles of pistachio mint ice cream. I found one of them dropped on the trail. It was solid and weighed a good 2 pounds or more. A malevolent squirrel cutting one of these loose would pretty well ice you. I will have to do my best to remain on good terms with the squirrels, as I know that they can be vengeful creatures.

I may well still be suffering from bad squirrel karma from the time my Dad picked me up after hiking a section of the Colorado Trail. We were sitting around camp grilling steaks and drinking scotch and branch water when a squirrel began relentlessly scolding us from a nearby tree.

We ignored him at first, as a trash squirrel beneath our notice, but he refused to be ignored and so we began throwing things at him to let him know that his conversation was not polite and his company no longer welcome.

My third or fourth toss hit him square between the eyes and he dropped down dead. My dog Baloo could not believe his luck – he had been taunted and tormented by squirrels all his life, and now one drops out of the sky right in front of him. He did not hesitate, but snatched it up and headed for the woods. I trust he gave it a proper burial.

I have been mindful of squirrels since and will be especially wary of them in this forest. Perhaps an occasional offering of trail mix will serve as protection money.

Took an extended break at White Rock Creek which has soft grassy banks and deep pools good for foot soaking and head dunking. Saw some kind of water rat, gray and about 4 inches long, swimming along the bank. Another creature unknown to me.

Filled up at a beautiful meadow spring and called it a day on a dry ridge line before the trail heads down into the next valley. Not much of a view thanks to the smoke, but it is open and pleasant enough. It gives me a feel to this country and the trail ahead.