A Road Obstacle Spoils Completion (PCT)

Bottom line: The best laid plans often go astray.

Sunset near Quincy, CA.

Mark R. (once again using the moniker of Wrong-way) and I made a last minute alteration to our hike plan (the section from Horseshoe Meadow to Bishop Pass). Instead, we opted for a stretch of trail in lower elevation, and thus, with less chance of inclement weather, vis-à-vis snow. Wrong-way liked the section between Sierra City, CA (mm 1196.6) and Chester, CA (mm 1332.3).

Note: Though, we opted to hike northbound some days, and southbound some days, I provide the northbound mile-marker designations for consistency, since we're headed northward overall anyway.

And, as per our two-vehicle availability, we anticipated moving our cars as necessary to maximize our one-day hikes, decrease the number of overnights on the trail ... and thus carry less weight (tent, sleeping bags, water, warm weather clothing and food). In addition, we'd have the option to hike northbound or southbound, depending which direction we considered the most advantageous for each section between our positioned vehicles at road junctions (increasing or decreasing elevation, for example). What a plan! Thru-hikers can't do that! Prim8 was all in on the idea, of course.

10.20.25, Monday, Day 0 - Wrong-way and I rendezvoused in Chester, a drive of some 538 miles for me, for an overnight stay there prior to starting our segment hiking. My drive went smoothly and the fall colors of deciduous trees near Lassen National Park were stunning, which helped offset the depressing and seemingly endless burned, blackened pines.

10.21.25, Tuesday, Day 1 - Frost coated my car's windshield in Chester as Wrong-way and Prim8 anticipated beginning our first day's segment hike.

My car positioned at Highway 36/PCT junction (mm 1332.3), we then drove to Humboldt Summit parking area (mm 1312.8) in Wrong-way's car.

Starting our hike at 8:30AM under a cloudless sky and temperature of 36 degrees F, I anticipated feeling chilled as we headed NOBO (northbound), though soon warmed up as per usual from the exertion of hiking.

To my surprise, we came upon the PCT "Halfway Monument" (mm 1320.7). (Due to yearly reroutes, however, the actual halfway point is now estimated to be closer to mile 1325.1.) Though, Wrong-way and I had skipped a considerable section of the PCT from Horseshoe Meadow to here, we nevertheless commemorated our arrival. After all, we fully expected to hike every mile of the trail at some time, regardless.

Prim8 points NOBO from

the PCT Halfway Marker.

I spotted a sticker inside the registration box at the Halfway Monument, and pointed it out to Wrong-way. We both chuckled.

"I go through this every day," I joked to Wrong-way. Prim8 knew exactly what I meant.

Sticker on the registration box

at the PCT Halfway Monument.

Several miles on, we passed two men engaged in trail maintenance. One informed us that the Dixie Fire had consumed about 980,000 acres in 2021. Note: I've since researched that fire and learned it burned for two months, reached a final size of 963,309 acres (that's 1,505 square miles!) and was the second-largest single wildfire in California history at the time.

Wrong-way (Mark) pauses

on the trail. (Note: We were to

see many burned pine trees.)

A view of burned pine forest with

Mt. Lassen (background, near centered).

A better view of Mt.

Lassen from the trail.

Further evidence of a fire.

Evidence of forest regeneration.

We camped near Soldier Creek at mm 1325.4, some 12.6 miles from our start. Then, we munched on cold, dry food. No cooking on the trail for us! We avoided schlepping cooking gear, stove and fuel on the trail. Why carry the weight?

10.22.25, Wednesday, Day 2 - The temperature a bit warmer, and with no frost present at 8:11AM, we continued NOBO in light wind through the remnant of burned pine forest.

I noticed a familiar pain aside the heel of my left foot as we hiked. Sure enough, when I checked later, I discovered a blister.

Dang it, Prim8! I won't forget to grease my feet again.

Once at Highway 36 junction (mm 1332.3), we drove to Belden Town to drop my car, then headed to Humboldt Summit parking area in Wrong-way's RAV4.

10.23.25, Thursday, Day 3 - Under clear sky and in a light, but chilling breeze, we left our car camp at Humboldt Summit at 7:30AM, SOBO (southbound). Before we started, however, I'd applied a pad to my foot's blistered area, then smeared an ample amount of Vaseline to both feet. (And which I would continue to do daily.)

That should fix it, Prim8.

Low growing brush, from one to one-and-a-half feet high, crowded the trail for several long stretches.

No place to be wearing short pants, Prim8!

At ~mm 1300, a sign informed us of the transition boundary from the Cascade Mountain Range to the Sierra Nevada Mountain Range. Soon after, I concluded the trail condition had worsened when the rounded, smaller pumice stones disappeared, replaced by irregular, jagged ones of various composition that created a greater tripping hazard!

At 6PM, as nightfall approached, and unable to find a nearby designated trail campsite, we discovered a level area aside the trail, large enough for the footprint of Wrong-way's two-man tent (~mm 1296.6?).

Can you spot our

makeshift campsite?

(BTW, we left no discernible

traces of our presence.)

10.24.25, Friday, Day 4 - Breaking camp, we continued SOBO at 7:51AM. Prim8 complained constantly about knee pain as we hiked this 8.6-mile rocky stretch descending nearly 2,600 feet in elevation, though not at a steady grade. Slowed by the agony of painful knees (mine), we arrived at my car in Belden Town (mm 1288.0) at 1:30PM.

Wrong-way prepares to peruse the

"dubious luxuries" at the Belden

Town Resort Lodge.

After retrieving Mark's car, we discussed various options, revised our plan, then drove both vehicles to a hotel in Chester.

Blame it on age, or poor physical conditioning ... and though I had thoughts of becoming a wuss ... I put up no fuss when Wrong-way had suggested this option. I preferred to blame it on my painful knees! Prim8 wasn't complaining, that's for sure.

10.25.25, Saturday, Day 5 - During an intermittent light rain in Chester, we enjoyed a cooked breakfast at Cravings Restaurant. Sated for the moment, we prepositioned my car at Bucks Lake Road junction (mm 1269.1), then drove Wrong-way's vehicle to Big Creek Road junction (mm 1264.7).

Dressed for rain, our 4.6-mile trek to my car proceeded in relatively dry conditions, though the sky broke open just as we finished our hike.

Great timing, Prim8! "Just in time," I joked with Wrong-way.

We retrieved Mark's RAV4, and made a beeline for the Old Sierra City Hotel, where we secured a room.

Prim8 embraces the Old

Sierra City Hotel as

"Home, Sweet Home".

Restroom sign at Old Sierra

City Hotel, least anyone get

confused.

Wrong-way and I sauntered down the double-lane main street (the only street there that I could discern) to Sorracco's Saloon, less than a hundred yards distance. With a considerable selection of beer and liquor from which to choose, we sampled some of Ron's wares, as we chatted with him and other fellow imbibers.

My selection of a "Kentucky Tangerine Cream" beer hit the spot. Very tasty it was, and Prim8 loved it! That encouraged me to imbibe with a shot of Mary Dowling bourbon ... though I'm not a connoisseur by any means, I just like to experience different things. Wrong-way stuck with beer.

Returned to the Old Sierra City Hotel, we had dinner, then hunkered in for the night.

10.26.25, Sunday, Day 6 - Rain continued throughout the day. (Would've been a misery for us to hike). Anticipating the weather's improvement, we prepositioned Wrong-way's car at a campground (mm 1221) near "A Tree spring". (I kid you not about that name.) One rough patch on the road nearly stymied us altogether, when I had difficulty getting traction over an formation of rock. Persevering, however, I maneuvered my car to the planned trail/campground junction. Then, leaving Wrong-way's car there and on our way out in my car, Wrong-way strategically re-positioned a few rocks, which helped reduce the severity of the said obstacle, and thus, potential damage to my vehicle.

We returned to the Old Sierra City Hotel for another night's stay.

10.27.25, Monday, Day 7 - The rain moved on, and the sky was cloudless, though the roads remained wet and a thin layer of snow covered the ground in scattered patches. In my car, we drove to a jeep road/trail junction (~mm 1208), which Wrong-way referred to as "Packer Lake", though that name didn't appear on the Halfmile PCT notes.

I wrapped my soar, left knee with a stretchy bandage, and we started our hike SOBO about 9:25AM in a temperature of 37 degrees F. An intermittent light breeze kept us cool. Small amounts of snow lay spread across the terrain and on the trail, clearly recording evidence of bear presence, as our day's hike segment ranged above seven-thousand feet.

Evidence of bears in the vicinity.

When we completed our day's hike in Sierra City, Wrong-way and I opted to stay at the Old Sierra City Hotel ... again!

Are we turning into wimps? I wondered. Prim8 liked the idea, however. I concluded that the stretchy bandage worked to reduce my left knee pain, and that hiking uphill might better suit my body.

10.28.25, Tuesday, Day 8 - Up at 6AM, we drove to mm 1208 (Packer Lake), then started our SOBO hike toward Sierra City (mm 1196.6) at 7:10AM in the 33-degree temperature. Initially, needle ice on the trail crunched under our feet, though disappeared as the sun warmed the air.

The trail gained elevation, as we circumnavigated the Sierra Buttes, then crossed the rock breakdown below the buttes.

Worried about tripping, resulting in a face plant, Prim8 thoroughly disliked this section ... and I agreed.

Segment of PCT which

I named "the slag heap".

"That was a real slag heap," I commented to Wrong-way afterwards.

Once at Wrong-way's RAV4 near Sierra City, we attempted to reposition it to the South Fork Feather River/trail junction (mm 1236.5). However, over-grown brush created a ever-narrowing corridor along the unmaintained road, before a fallen tree blocked our path altogether.

"Close, but no cigar," I said to Wrong-way.

He backed his car through the embracing brush about one-hundred feet before reaching a suitable spot where he could turn around.

At dusk, we car-camped at a road/trail junction (mm 1236.5).

10.29.25, Wednesday, Day 9 - We left Wrong-way's vehicle at 7:40AM, hiking NOBO under clear sky. Despite the cool temperature in the shade, I sweat profusely. We encountered fallen trees, necessitating a clamber over or an off-trail diversion around.

Prim8 whined about my tired, aching feet. I commiserated.

We crossed the steel bridge over the Middle Fork Feather River (mm1250.9).

Prim8 pauses for a better look.

Continuing onward, we passed what I considered a wizened tree.

Fungus on a burned pine.

Wizened? Judge for yourself.

At our day's hike of 16.2 miles, we arrived at a trail campsite (mm 1252.7).

10.30.25, Thursday, Day 10 - I'd had a long, miserable night as my legs ached. However, I forced myself up for a 7:20AM start, despite Prim8's protests.

We snacked on cold food, and soldiered on, pausing at Big Bear Creek footbridge crossing to replenish our water supply. When we looked closely, we identified the culprits gathered on the sign.

Lady bugs gathered on the

sign and surrounding debris.

We encountered numerous fallen trees blocking the trail, which slowed our progress, though we completed our day's 12.5-mile segment to an unpaved road junction (mm 1252.7) at 3:45PM.

We attempted to reach mm 1221 in Wrong-way's vehicle via a different route than previously, though were thwarted. We then drove to my car at Bucks Summit, changed plan, again, then drove both vehicles to Three Lakes Campground, 18.8 miles away.

Observing the CLOSED FOR THE SEASON sign and locked gate blocking the campground road, Wrong-way said, "I'm out of ideas. Got any suggestions?"

Stunned, I didn't know what to say, but before I could, he added, "We could drive back to Quincy and get a hotel room."

Exacerbated, I yelled, "F@*%!", realizing that our plan was stymied. Then I added, "Let's find a flat spot here somewhere. No one else will be coming here tonight."

And so, we found a suitable spot to set up Wrong-way's tent, and I told myself that tomorrow would bring a fresh perspective.

10.31.25, Friday, Day 11 - Frost covered everything when we arose. We packed up, drove both cars to Bucks Summit, where I dropped mine. Then, we drove toward Three Lakes/PCT junction (mm 1280.1) in Wrong-way's car. The "four-wheel drive" road to our trailhead connection grew too rough for Wrong-way's vehicle, per his assessment, however, so we parked about one mile short of the Three Lakes trailhead, adding that to our day's NOBO hiking distance (about two miles total). We departed his RAV4 at 10:27AM and reached the PCT junction (mm 1280.1) at 1:30PM. With a temperature of around 47 degrees, and few wispy clouds high above, we remained relatively cool, though my sweat was profuse, as we passed through another section of burned pine forest, which provided little shade.

5PM, we reached my car at Bucks Summit road (mm1269.1).

As I drove us to Belden Town in preparation for our last segment hike of this trip, I told Wrong-way, "I'm bummed about not doing the segment from Feather River to 1221." Prim8 was happy to forego hiking that segment, though.

"I am, too," Wrong-way said.

Wrong-way and I opted for another hotel-stay, this time at the Belden Town Resort & Lodge.

Prim8 was quite content about this, too ... and frankly, so was I! We both desired a break from the aches and pains of knees, calves and feet, which seemed relentless, though varied from day to day.

That evening, Wrong-way and I occupied stools at the resort's bar for drinks and dinner, and in addition, we purchased breakfast burritos for the following morning.

11.1.25, Saturday, Day 12 - Up before sunrise (5:30AM), we consumed our burritos, left the room, and began our hike at the light of dawn.

From Belden Town/PCT junction (mm 1288.0), we faced a SOBO 7.9-mile hike with an elevation differential of 4,013 feet (lowest to highest points) to Three Lakes Summit Trail junction (mm 1280.1). (This segment from mm1267.8 to mm1272.3 gained 3,210 feet!) Though, I knew the "uphill" direction would be fatiguing, I figured that would be more tolerable than the stress upon my knees (resulting in pain) of hiking downhill.

We attained the highpoint along the tail at 11:55AM, awe inspired by the views of the surrounding, rugged terrain.

Feather River canyon near Belden.

(Note: Taken from our day's

hike highpoint.)

We reached the PCT/Three Lakes Trail junction (mm 1280.1) at 12:30PM, officially ending our PCT hiking. However, another 2 miles to Wrong-way's car faced us, which seemed interminable.

Pressed to return home by Monday, Nov 2, Wrong-way mentioned returning at a later date to hike the segment between mm 1221 (near A Tree spring) and the South Fork Feather River junction (mm 1236.5), which he considered an overnight hike.

I admit that 15.5-mile segment (with an elevation loss of 4,200 feet, with a lowpoint near Duck Soup Pond, then a gain of the same elevation to finish, regardless which direction hiked) would be daunting. And, presently, I didn't have the oomph for that.

Once we arrived at my car in Belden Town, Wrong-way and I resorted our respective gear. I removed my Hoka hiking boots. Wrong-way and I bide farewell before starting our respective drives home.

Our final tally: We hiked the PCT, some NOBO and some SOBO, from mm 1196.6 to mm 1221 and mm 1236.5 to mm 1332.3 for a total of 120.2 miles. And we'll return at some point to complete the segment between mm 1221 and mm 1236.5 (15.5 miles).

Prim8 removes his Hoka hiking

boots. (For the last time?)

I opted to head home straightaway and arrived about midnight, relieved that my body could recuperate.

After examining my Hoka's at home, I decided to retire them. I calculated that they'd carried me 353.5 miles on the PCT. I'll probably purchase a pair of their clones, later.

My trusty Hoka hiking boots.

Walk in beauty.

Mr. New Boots (PCT)

Bottom line: Blisters are a tenderfoot hiker’s reward.

Prim8's new Hoka hiking boots. Blister preventers?

11.10.21

Mr. New Boots, that is Prim8 equipped with new hiking boots, and I had arrived at our rendezvous point at the terminus of state road 173 in advance of "Wrong-way" Mark. There, we discovered 173, now blocked off, had been a through road leading from the relative flat terrain nearer Hesperia into the mountains to Lake Arrowhead.

Wide open terrain. We’ve made progress, Prim8.

Out of the mountains? Prim8 replied.

Not entirely.

I’d grown tired of the elevation gains and losses over the miles we’d hiked around Big Bear, but I knew full well, implied by the name, the Pacific Crest Trail had many more hills and mountains to ascend and descend before our journey’s goal will be reached.

Since our last jaunt, Prim8 and I purchased a pair of Hoka Stinson One hiking boots in hopes of warding off pesky foot blisters, the bane of many hikers. Prim8 had had enough of dealing with blisters and I wasn’t too happy about them, either. We hoped we’d solved the blister conundrum and our feet would hike in bliss, having achieved footwear nirvana.

"Add another mile or so to our hiking distance tomorrow," Mark said.

What? "Another mile?"I pictured our 24.5-mile hike down hill towards the Whitewater Preserve some months ago.

We left my car at road end, turned parking lot, in anticipation of our arrival on foot the next day. Then, Mark drove us into Big Bear where Prim8 and I stuffed ourselves with Mexican barbacoa, aka slow cooked meat, washed down with beer, before retiring to our motel room.

11.11.21 Crab Flats to PCT/173 Junction

Up at 4:45AM, we brewed coffee in our rooms, snacked on dried fruit, and consumed bacon prepared by Mark, both pork and turkey, before we set off for our trailhead destination at Crab Flats.

The chilled air and starry sky portended a good weather day.

I sucked down additional coffee as best I could as we bounced around over the rutted gravel/dirt road, generally unfit for most vehicles and designed OHV, aka off-highway vehicle. In the meantime, both Mark and I drank water from disposable plastic bottles, in order to maximize our levels of hydration. I discovered long ago that water is not weightless, so I’ve developed the practice of drinking my fill before the day’s hike, though I carry a prudent supply, as well. Nothing good comes from dehydration.

Last minute gear checks completed and packs donned, we walked away from Mark’s vehicle.

"What time is it?" I asked.

"7AM," Mark replied.

A tad later than we’d hoped.

"And what’s the temperature?"

"I’ve got 43 degrees," Mark said.

"Good temperature," I said. "It’s easier to get warmer, than cooler." I knew we’d warm up within a few minutes from hiking exertion.

All the while, I consoled Prim8 with the delusion that we’d lose elevation, 2301 feet, over the course of our day’s hike. But, you have to know, that the PCT meanders up, around and down mountainsides! So, the accumulated elevation gain would be 240 feet and the elevation loss would be 2414 feet, which amounts to a 2654-foot differential. Doesn’t sound like much, but everything adds up.

And the trail led us up, around and down.

Rest a minute.

After a brief pause, I continued onward.

Grab a snack.

My leg muscles and feet aching with fatigue, I'd found another excuse to rest a minute.

I hiked some more. The trail wound along, overlooking Deep Creek drainage.

Nice view of fall colors. Pause for a scenic photo.

Though the area remains in drought, fall colors show in Deep Creek Canyon.

The ache of my leg muscles had deepened.

What’s with this?

With clear sky above, temperatures climbed into the low-mid 70s. An occasional light breeze lifted my spirit.

And we’ve got shade now and then.

The trail continued up, down, and around. Up, down, and around.

How are you doing, feet?

Aside from the ache and fatigue, I detected no blisters.

"Wrong-way" Mark pauses for a rest on the opposite side of

the rainbow painted arch bridge which crosses Deep Creek.

When I caught up with Mark, who's been leading the way, on the opposite side of the arch bridge which crosses Deep Creek, he said, “You’re eight minutes behind me. Not bad.”

"Could’ve fooled me," I said. "We must be getting close." I meant to my car.

"Another 4 miles from here," Mark said.

Ugh, Prim8 said.

Slog it out, fella.

Having crossed Deep Creek and with the trail direction shifted westward, we came into full sun. The sun, on its late afternoon downward leg and lower in the sky, however, didn’t scorch us.

Though seemingly forever to come into sight, the trail winding this way, then that, we approached the Mojave River Dam.

Nearly there. Then, another mile to go.

My legs and feet continued their ache.

What’s the damage done this time?

We followed a gravel road about half a mile on gentle rising terrain to the tunnel where Deep Creek flows. Here, we faced foot-deep water about twenty-feet across. After removing my boots and socks in preparing to fjord the Deep Creek, my iPhone took a bath.

Plop! A short, tiny little dink. What could that be?

I spotted my iPhone resting in a few inches of water. "Crap, I dropped my phone in the water," I said, as I retrieved it. I gave it a good shaking and hoped for the best.

"You probably shouldn’t carry it on your belt," Mark said.

"Yeah, I know," I said. "I wanted it handy to take photos, but I guess the belt holder wasn’t designed for hiking." Should’ve learned that lesson when your phone fell off earlier in the day, twice.

I trudged the remaining distance to my car, dreading learning of my phone’s fate.

Seated in my car, "Where’s our motel?" I asked Mark. By that I meant, what was our drive route to get there.

"Let me check," Mark said as he searched on his phone.

"I guess I’ll bite the bullet and check mine," I said. Come on, baby.

Seconds passed.

"It came on! I can’t believe it," I said. Next time, carry it in your pocket, fool.

In Crestline we enjoyed another Mexican meal, washed down with beer.

"I’m knackered," I told Mark. "My muscles and feet ache."

"I’d like to start a little later tomorrow morning," he said. "Maybe, we can shorten our hike a little."

"That’s okay by me. I’m gonna be soar and stiff the next couple of days."

"I may just schedule a massage for when I get home," Mark said. "And I’d like to beat the rush hour traffic on the way home."

"Wrong-way" got no quarrel from me.

Our cars with us at the motel, we decided on a later start and shorter hike of 9.3 miles.

Done deal.

We’d hiked 21.5 miles and my body knew it.

Settled into the motel room, I wondered whether a shower, followed by a decent night’s rest, would prepare me for the achy breaky pains of body stiffness I'd face in a few hours.

Feet checked, I discovered a small blister on one foot. Crap, can’t seem to avoid them. At least, it had appeared solo.

Mile marker achieved: 314.3

11.12.21 PCT/173 Junction to Silverwood Lake

My alarm sounded at 6:30AM, as I’d set it.

Yep, stiff as cardboard. I hobbled around the room as I collected my wits and gear, and made ready to leave.

Mark and I consumed a hardy breakfast in Crestline before we set off to leave my car at Pilot Rock Staging Area parking lot, which overlooks Silverwood Lake dam.

Then, in Mark’s SUV, we headed to the PCT junction with 173.

Been here, Prim8 said.

Yep, déjà vu, all over again.

At 9AM, day pack readied, I tanked up on water. "Got any ibuprofen, Mark?"

"Yeah," he said and offered me two tabs.

I should carry my own.

I took tentative down the trail, wondering, Why do I do this to myself?

Just gut it out.

Within a few minutes, however, with help from Mark’s hiker’s medical cabinet, I’d achieved a steady pace.

A cloudless sky and scarcity of trees left us exposed to full sun, though temperatures remained civil, hovering in the mid-70s in the brief spots of shade. Periodic slight breezes helped.

I reminded myself that today's hike would be shorter. We hiked on flatter terrain, with considerably less elevation gain and loss than the previous day, and we enjoyed open views of the small valley to our north, bounded by an escarpment beyond.

Looking westward from PCT between Mojave River Forks Reservoir and Silverwood Lake.

As the hours progressed, we speculated about our time of completion.

"We may be done by one," Mark said.

We continued our steady pace.

When we arrived at the trail junction, my car parked another a hundred yards up the paved road, "It’s 1:30PM," Mark said. "We’ve come 9.3 miles. That’s 2.2 miles an hour."

“Pretty good, considering,” I said. Considering my stiffness from yesterday.

"Wrong-way" got no quarrel from me.

For me, three mph, sustained only over short distances, is the best I can expect. One mph would be a snail's pace, and two mph I deem reasonable. "Anything over two mph is icing on the cake," I added.

After retrieving Mark’s vehicle, I changed into my tennies for my drive home. Not only had my foot-condition not worsened, though my feet were sore, I felt relieved that no additional blisters appeared, in spite of the one that I’d cultivated yesterday, which had burst.

Could’ve been worse!

I made it home, lickety-split, ahead of the most of stop-and-go traffic.

(Prim8’s accumulated PCT progress: mile marker 323.2.)