Half-way House

Hi everyone, writing to you from the Heitman's house hostel outside Old Station, CA, today. A lot has happened in the interim since my last real post at Donner Pass, most for the better. The group I'd been hiking with broke up for a few days upon leaving Pooh Corner as Dave and SmileTrain headed out early in order to arrive in Belden sooner. Wanderer, StraightJacket and I left the day after, enjoying Bill Person's hospitality a little longer, but to our surprise we caught up with the others only a few days later; apparently they decided to take it slow, realizing they were ahead of schedule. A quick stop in small, quirky Sierra City for some resupply was followed by a stay at a budding trail angel hostel near Buck's Lake, where we were treated to some dinner... after a nice appetizer of burgers. With the crew reassembled for the time being, we decided to celebrate the 4th with a little outdoor BBQ of our own by stocking up on hot dogs, marshmallows, and the like and hiking an easy 15 miles before setting up camp. I don't know if I've been in California too long, but avocados should always be paired with hot dogs, no questions asked. It was an excellent way to relax and recharge before then next leg of our journey began.

The next 9 miles were a long slow, descent into Belden, down to 2900 feet in elevation, our lowest point in many, many miles. The trail passes through a small resort on the banks of the Feather River, that, strangely enough, is host to a series of summer music festivals that draw various and sundry types to the area. As such, Belden has a reputation for being a party town, and because we arrived on the 5th of July it did not disappoint. Hippies and hipsters abounded, and for once we weren't the dirtiest people in town. Needless to say we still felt out of place, so we quickly high tailed it to... yet another house hostel, this time run by the Braatens. They generously put people up in their house outside of town and fed us an awesome breakfast.

Belden is the geographic end of the Sierras as well as the closest stop to the half-way point, so unsurprisingly there were a few other milestones. This marked the first time we encountered another northbound hiker in months, as CroDog hiked in some time after we did. Unfortunately, both he and Dave had to leave, hitching out to the real world for brief sojourns into civilization. With the drop in elevation the worst of the snow is gone, so StraightJacket decided to hike ahead by himself; his motivations are more towards making huge miles than the rest of us apparently. Wanderer and SmileTrain hitched into Quincy, so I ended up leaving the Braatens by myself as well, finally hiking alone for the first time in more than a month.

Luckily the trail has been fairly easy as my ankle continues to be quite weak and has to be nursed along the rougher bits, but I've still been able to make some decent mileage. After a longish ascent out of Belden, the path enter Lassen National Park, an area of volcanic activity around the imposing, snow capped mountain that is the park's namesake. It rises from the surrounding forest in a singular mass, somewhat like Katahdin in Maine, and signals the start of the Cascade Mountain range. The terrain has been varied as of late, changing from dense, young-growth pine forests (the product of recent logging) to dusty chaparall at lower elevations, to stark, rugged igneous outcroppings populated by wildflowers. There have been several side trails to geysers, furmamoles and boiling mud pots as well, but by far the best has been the stop at Drakesbad Guest Ranch. Located in the tiny Warner Valley, its a small cluster of cabins around a lodge and a hot springs-fed swimming pool with some of the most amazing hospitality ever. They provide hikers with towels, bathing suits, access to their facilities, and give ridiculous hiker rates on their food, which is all very good quality; no wonder the place is booked years in advance. The final leg from Drakesbad to here has been easy on the legs, but terror with the bugs. Now that the snow is (hopefully) over and done with, the mosquitoes are out in full force, and one must choose between sweltering in long sleeves or constantly swatting the squadron of insects that follow behind. DEET is an option of last resort and desperation.

Then finally there is the Heitman's house itself. Located outside brushy Old Station, it is a strange place populated by previous hikers who mill around making themselves useful. Kind of like a Sargasso Sea of trail folk. Its weird being the only current hiker here right now as 8 "helpers", all awaiting the crush of hikers some ways behind, try to find something to do. It makes a thru hiker feel downright industrious. That being said, Georgi Heitman is pretty awesome (obviously), and her generosity betrays her girl scouting heritage. She has big tents and a tree house set up to accomodate her guests, as well as all the comforts and amenities that make leaving difficult. As I type this, thunder rolls outside and I'm thankful to be indoors, though the weather is supposed to remain the same as I head out to the exposed Hat Creek Rim shortly. Yikes.

If the trail conditions remain the same, I should be back to the hiking pace I enjoyed in SoCal. For the moment we are all getting spoiled by the abundance of house hostels, though that won't last too long; the next leg is notorious for its inconvenient resupply. I expect to be out of California in a few weeks, through Oregon soon after that, and into Washington sometime around mid August. With the half way point behind me, thoughts of life after the trail have started to creep back into my head already. Hopefully my ankle will behave itself, and it will be back to smooth sailing for the remainder of the trek as I'm looking forward to the possibility of seeing family in the near future. Talk to you later.