Week 8 Mileage: 267.8
PCT Mile: 1938.3
“Trans, Snow and Skeeters”
I wanted to reach the Oregon border by the end of the day. That would be 35 miles, but the elevation gain was over 9,000 feet. By 7 p.m. it started to snow; by 9:30, I called it quits 4 miles from the border, figuring the snow was just a passing fluke. Waking up to 3 inches on the ground was a surprise, and even more surprising was that it kept falling. Most of the day brought steady snowfall, switching to freezing rain and then, briefly, sunshine—only for the clouds to quickly roll back in. I was cold and wearing every layer I had.
My resupply box was at Callahan’s Lodge, just a mile off-trail, and I usually grab it and keep going. But this weather wasn’t typical. As I descended, snow turned to rain—40 degrees and soaking wet is a brutal combo. By the time I reached the road to the lodge, it was absolutely pouring. I could have pushed on and eked out another 6 miles in that misery, but instead I got a ride to Ashland and stayed at the Columbia Hotel—a renovated hostel with music memorabilia on the walls, right in the center of town. My bunk cost only $50, and I met two Australians hiking the trail. Took a hot shower that lasted two minutes before the water went cold… another lame shower experience. I washed and dried everything, got my gear on charge, and headed out for food: large pizza, wings, Caesar salad. Sleeping by 9.
The next morning, one of the Aussies—named “Bush” because he once brought Bush Light to hikers—offered me a ride back to the trail. Before leaving, the front desk person wanted a photo for their “PCT Wall of Fame,” which printed out quickly. I wrote my name and hometown. She asked, “NH?” I replied, “Yeah, where men are men… and so are the women.” No one laughed—not her, not the housekeeper next to me, who was transgender and transitioning. I could tell the comment didn’t land well. For the record, I identify as funny, so the fact that they didn’t laugh offended me too. Bush chuckled at the whole exchange, and by 9:45 I was back on trail and moving well.
Crater Lake was 100 miles ahead. I know this section—it’s a cruiser. Staying low in elevation, it avoids most snow, but it’s sparse in water sources. A lot of ponds and lakes, but not many large flowing streams. Stretches of 10 to 20 miles without water aren’t uncommon here. I pulled a 46.5-mile day, landing me perfectly at Crater Lake the next afternoon. Arrived at 3 p.m., went into the camp store, and they had my resupply box! Relieved, I signed for it and heard someone ask in a high-pitched voice, “Is the trail everything you hoped it would be?” I looked up to see a man in a dress. I said, “Yeah dude, a lot of snow the last 20 miles.” It’s still a mental shift—to see someone presenting differently and adapt my response mid-thought. I’m old school, still navigating the learning curve.
After eating a bison burger and a slice of cheesecake, I hit the trail again. The PCT doesn’t pass close to Crater’s rim, and since I’d been up there three times already, I was fine skipping it. The section I did was flat and pleasant aside from a few blowdowns. Happy to knock out 37 miles after a two-hour break.
Next day I cruised to the Mt. Thielson Wilderness. Not much water through here, but two caches helped. I met a defeated section hiker heading out—his Achilles was acting up. Reminded me of my own struggles before Big Bear Lake. I told him to try compression socks and Advil, but I could tell he’d mentally checked out.
I pushed toward Thielson. Snow started around 6,500 feet and continued for the next 20 miles. It was tough, but I had to reach Shelter Cove Campground by Thursday night. Trail below 6,500 was clear but packed with mosquitoes; above that, it was snow-covered. Diamond Peak Wilderness was slow-going with post-holing and deep snow, burning more food and energy. Still, I made it to the store by 6:15, not knowing it closed at 6. Luckily, the guy inside let me quickly resupply with card payment. $8 for a bag of Doritos—everything was insanely overpriced. But then a lady invited me to her campsite.
Maggie and Kevin were great—gave me sodas and food. Their baby boomer friends had lots of deep questions: Why do I do it? What do I think about on trail? What are my plans afterward? After 32 miles through snow, my mind was a bit fried. To answer those, you’d have to be there.
Maggie and crew drove me back up to the trail, and I squeezed out another 8.2 miles by 10:30, putting me 39 miles from Elk Lake Resort. The next section was flat and easy—low elevation, mosquito-heavy. I was drenched in bug spray and wore my bug net for the first time. By the time my alarm went off at 2:06 p.m. to end the week, I was proud of my weekly mileage total: 267.8. Even with the unexpected stop in Ashland, I was very satisfied.
