Mended Knee? (PCT)

Bottom line: Modern medicine can produce some miracles!

I pose at a distance

marker on the PCT.

8/22/26, Saturday (Day 0) - Prim8 and I accompany Wrongway in his RAV 4 to Morgan Hill, where we rendezvoused with Bob N. (Dr. Bobo), our driver/trail support buddy. From there, we continued to a motel in Red Bluff for the night, and hopefully a good rest, before the PCT hike adventure begins near Chester, CA.

Our plan: Dr. Bobo's would provide trail support by driving Wrongway's car. Thereby, we'd enjoy considerable flexibility and camping/meal options, alleviate the need for two sets of overnight gear and the necessity for two vehicles, while cutting down on driving time between trail junctions.

Note: I'll continue to use PCT Halfmile marker designations, though while hiking, I relied on on references from the FarOut cell phone app. Though they don't match, who should expect them to do so? Nothing in life is that simple!

9/23/26, Sunday (Day 1) (NOBO, AKA northbound) - We headed to the PCT trail junction near Chester (mm 1332.3) in anticipation of an early start. About halfway between the two, however, and as if on cue, a deer made an unwise decision...jumped, then paused immediately in front of us. Wrongway had precious little time to react.

BAM! The deer went down.

What?! Primate screamed.

"Came out of nowhere!" I said.

Stunned, we sat in Wrongway's RAV4, as we watched the deer kick and squirm it's way across the road to the opposite side within seconds.

"Mark, is your gun handy?" I asked, considering we should relief a suffering deer of it's misery.

Moments later, the deer rose to it's feet, and began walking towards the rear of the vehicle. I imagined it had an expression of indignation. We were as stunned at that development as we were of the deer's appearance, and our subsequent collision with it.

I turned to face ahead again. "I'm surprised it didn't die immediately," I said.

"Yeah, me, too," Wrongway said.

"The deer hopped the guardrail and disappeared," Dr. Bobo reported.

We checked for damage to the car, and discovered a red fluid leak.

What part of the engine had been damaged?

We questioned, speculated, examined, before continuing on briefly to a flat spot and turnout on the road near buildings on both sides.

"The engine is overheated," Wrongway explained.

Luckily, Wrongway had cell service and called for an emergency tow, which transported us to the nearest RAV4 dealer in Redding, 60 miles away. The dealership repair department wasn't open on Sunday and who knew what needed to be repaired or how long it would take to make the RAV4 drivable?

Wrongway pondered our options. Several hours later, after some consultation with his insurance company, he rented a similar vehicle, and we were headed back to the PCT/Chester junction, our intended starting point.

Dr. Bobo poses aside our rental

vehicle at the PCT/Chester junction.

Beginning our hike early afternoon, under high overcast and in cool temperature, I took the lead, eager to discover if my new Cortisone knee injection would alleviate the agony I'd endured during my last hiking trip.

Our day's objective? PCT mm 1343.1, a day's hike of 10.3 miles, quite ease by PCT hiker standards. The trail started gently, and covered with pumice and dust, led us through a burned section of forest. (See previous photo of the trailhead junction.) Wrongway, wearing shorts, soon realized his choice to be less than ideal, as we pushed our way through waist-high brush bristling with thorns.

"Tomorrow, I'm wearing long pants," he quipped.

Prim8 wasn't complaining, however.

Got nothing to gripe about, dude? How novel! I thought. Fingers crossed, fellow. Left knee doing good. I knew, however, that Prim8 would eventually find something about which to complain...just not sure what and when.

We marched past occasional shaded spots, which grew in frequency as the trail gained elevation. A slight breeze cooled us, and the temperature hovered in the low-80s. The arm stockings, which I'd decided to wear, blocked the sun's rays from my arms and prevented sunburn.

We progressed steadily, then later rendezvoused with Dr. Bobo at 6:50PM (mm 1343.1), before car camping near the trail junction, where a sign claimed the halfway point.

This unofficial sign claims to be at

the PCT halfway point. (My best

guess about 20 miles north of

the official concrete marker.)

8/24/26, Monday (Day 2) (NOBO) - Old Red Bluff Road junction (mm 1343.1) to Chester Warner Valley Road junction (mm 1351.7)

The rental car reloaded with our gear while the temperature hovered the low 50s, before we drove to Chester for breakfast, and cell service so that Wrongway could to attend to car repair issues.

How civilized, Prim8. I'm afraid you'll get spoiled.

Verdict on the RAV4 repairs? It would be several days before parts could be obtained and installed.

We returned to the trailhead (mm 1343.1) where at noon and in pleasant weather, Wrongway, Prim8 and I began our day's hike to Chester Warner Valley Road junction, 8.6 miles away.

Hurt! Prim8 complained of my aching feet in short order.

This is nothing compared to the knee pain during our last hike, Prim8. We'll take care of this later. Then, I noticed pain developing in my left hip area and right ankle, which Prim8 didn't, and wouldn't, overlook. (I'd brought a knee brace, Advil and Bengay, which I hoped would be sufficient to handle any pains that I'd encounter.)

Around mm 1344, we entered Lassen National Park.

We encountered waist-high brush again today and a thick layer of powdery dust blanketed the trail, particularly over the last mile.

Wrongway and I smelled Boiling Spring Lake before we spotted it aside the trail.

"Smells like something burning," Wrongway said.

Stink! Prim8 quipped.

"Kind of like sulfur," I replied.

"Wouldn't want to drink it," Wrongway said, once we eyed the offender.

"Nope, not even if boiled and filtered," I said.

Boiling Spring Lake in Lassen

National Park (mm 1345).

Dr. Bobo awaited our 5PM arrival at the road junction near where we would camp at Warner Valley Campground.

8/25/26, Tuesday, (Day 3) (NOBO) - Chester Warner Valley Road (mm 1351.7) to West Prospect Lookout Road (mm 1364.8)

My 6AM phone alarm set us in motion. I noted a thin, high overcast.

Wrongway reported, "It's 47 degrees."

We left Dr. Bobo and the rental VW at 7:10AM in the cool, calm air as sunrise spread it's colors across the sky.

Soon after, Prim8 kvetched about various pains in my feet.

There's must be a problem with our boots...but, hey, our left knee is doing great! I regretted not buying boots with a wider toe box.

The clouds above filtered the worst of the sun's rays, while my large-brimmed hat and arm sleeves blocked more of it. Meanwhile, the trail remained relatively flat, comprised of small pumice, while a moderate breeze cooled us.

We veered away from the trail at Badger Flat Spring Trail junction for a gentle, cross-country bushwhack to meet Dr. Bobo, who approached on the gravel road 10 minutes later.

We drove to and spent the night at Big Pine Campground, a great campsite, where I had a cozy night's sleep despite the chilled air.

8/26/26, Wednesday (Day 4) (NOBO) - Badger Flat Spring Trail junction (mm 1364.8) to West Prospect Lookout Road (mm 1371.2)

We broke camp starting at 6AM, returned to our rendezvous point of the day before, and started our hike at 7:10AM.

We hiked without difficulty, and along the way, I spotted a deer and non-poisonous snake.

Snake! Prim8 sounded his alarm.

Two long yellow stripes alternated with black along it's length. Don't worry, it's not poisonous, guy.

Lassen Peak.

At mm 1366.5, we passed a sign, which indicated that we were exiting the national park.

We met with Dr. Bobo at our designated spot at 10:15AM. Then, Wrongway attended to his wounded RAV4 in Redding. After a drive to access cell service, he returned to the campground with news that his car was ready for pickup. Options weighed, I accompanied him to Redding to reacquire his vehicle and drop off the rental VW. On our return, we bought a pizza in Burneyand devoured it at our campsite...along with chilled beers.

Wrongway suggested additional revisions in our hike to help maintain our overall schedule. "Let's drive up to the Grizzly Peak area and hike those sections NOBO, but moving to the next section south each day. That would leave us closer (less driving distance) to the section between Chester and Sierra City." (We had an unfinished 15-mile section along that segment which we desired to complete, also.)

Dr. Bob and I were all in.

8/27/26, Thursday (Day5) (NOBO) - Alder Creek Trail junction (mm 1462.1) to the junction with unpaved road 38N53 (mm 1475.2), near Fitzhugh Gulch Creek and the McCloud River.

Up at 6AM, again, in 40-degree air, we packed up, drove as closely as we could (impeded by a locked gate) to Alder Creek Trail junction with the PCT. From there, Wrongway and I worked our way along gravel/dirt road for ~1.5 miles to reach the PCT at 11:30AM, then headed NOBO (northbound) toward our day's destination.

With no intention of spending a night on the trail, and, thus, the approach of nightfall uppermost in our minds, Wrongway and I kept moving as the day progressed.

We can do this, Prim8, if our left knee holds out.

Wrongway and I took a well-deserved lunch about midpoint, then continued on. Prim8, continuously occupied, complained about increasing fatigue and foot pain as I trudged onward mile after mile, on what seemed an eternal downhill grade.

The air humid, and warming, as we lost elevation, I noticed an increase in blood-sucking insects buzzing about and poison oak growing aside the trail.

Careful, Prim8 warned.

Having suffered poison ivy as a child in Kentucky, I've learned to identify the west coast equivalent and am leery of brushing against it. Oh, I'll keep an eye out, dude. And I'm guessing that wherever you find poison oak, mosquitoes won't be far away...and vice versa.

As dusk began to overtake us, Wrongway and I reached our rendezvous point with Dr. Bobo.

"You kicked butt," Wrongway mused, and handed me a cold brewski.

"I thought I could, I thought I could," I replied, surprised that my left knee felt good for a change! Oh, the miracles of modern medicine, Prim8. I alternated between taking a swig of ice cold beer and rubbing the can across my forehead.

We spent the night in a dusty campground. Inches thick, powdery, tan-colored dust, disturbed by the slightest movement, swirled and floated about, before settling on everything.

"You can see the dust in the car headlights," Dr. Bobo noted.

"Yeah. I just wonder how much of that stuff we're inhaling," I said. I noticed that it acted like a stain when I attempted to brush it off my clothing. It just wouldn't come off.

I heard animals bawling in the night, and, soon after, something running down the paved road nearby. I envisioned wild animal(s) rushing headlong through our campsite.

What?! Prim8 blurted. Get run over?

Sounds like a spastic moose, guy. Fortunately, Prim8 and I were spared a stampede.

8/28/26, Friday (Day 6) (SOBO, AKA southbound) - Alder Creek Trail junction (mm 1462.1) to unpaved road junction, 39N10, near Bartle Gap (mm 1447.6)

At 7AM, we arose to clear sky with a cool temperature, and as we broke camp, we talked about the ruckus during the night.

"What caused that noise last night? I thought it was a moose," I said.

"Not around here," Wrongway said. "I looked out and saw several cows, which ran down the road."

Spastic cows, Prim8. "Well, that explains it," I replied.

As we left Dr. Bobo at the car at 9:45AM, he said, "Every step today equals two from yesterday."

Hmm. Though I knew that was intended as an encouragement, I had difficulty adopting that viewpoint as my feet ached.

As expected, Prim8 wailed constantly.

I downed two Advil. That should help, Prim8. Then, I repeated Dr. Bobo's encouraging words like a mantra.

We made steady progress until, at 2:55PM, we met Dr. Bobo who awaited our arrival. From there, we claimed a spot at Dusty Campground near Lake Britton, then headed to Burney for a pizza...and beer.

At camp that evening, I inventoried my feet: blisters under two pinky toes on my right foot; blister aside my left big toe; two sores atop my left foot; and sores on my left pinky. Clearly, my boots weren't doing me any favors. An ample application of medical tape over every blister and sore would have to do...aside from Advil, as needed.

Additionally, in anticipation of rain per the forecast, Wrongway and Dr. Bobo erected their tent rain flies. I used one ground cloth as a makeshift cover over my Bughut, prepared to abandon my ship and take refuge in one of the RAV4's seats. (That vehicle was crammed with our gear, and Dr. Bobo had been resting a small container on his lap most often.)

A drop, or two, of precip may have fallen during the night, though I detected nothing.

8/29/26, Saturday (Day 7) (SOBO) - Bartle Gap area (mm 1447.6) to unpaved road near Peavine Creek (mm 1443.3)

Up at 6AM, my feet and right knee ached, and Prim8 complained.

I'll take two Advil before we start, fella.

In a cool temperature and under clear sky, Wrong-way and I started our day's 13-mile hike at 8:10AM.

The weather remained good and a breeze helped stifle my sweating. Several miles along, we were pushing through overgrown brush/small trees, later we encountered an unobstructed trail amidst an open conifer forest.

A previous back pain returned, an on-going, niggling ache about which Prim8 gave me constant grief.

We'll take Advil, fella. Advil! That's about all we can do. A result of the scoliosis a doc recently diagnosed? Or my day pack without a waist strap? Of course, I didn't have the answer. Perhaps, all of the above. Regardless, I concluded that I had to push on.

Wrongway and I met Dr. Bobo at 3:10PM and proceeded to Butch Dyke Memorial Deer Camp for the night. (Don't ask me if that was someone's actual name...or some sick, perverted joke. I have no idea. A google search has yielded nil, nada, zilch.)

The night air was cold, and I needed the addition of my fleece sleeping bag to keep my feet warm.

8/30/26, Sunday (Day 8) (SOBO)- Peavine Creek area (mm 1443.3) to Britton Lake Dam (mm 1421.8)

Wrongway and I started our hike at 8:20AM, with an ingenious plan to meet Dr. Bobo at unpaved road junction (38N05) after about an 8-mile jaunt. We arrived there at 11:30AM. We rested and ate sandwiches before continuing the remaining 5 miles, or so, to Britton Lake Dam. The sun bore down on us and the temperature was decidedly hotter at 1:45PM, when we reached Dr. Bobo.

Time for a sight-seeing side trip, we visited Burney Falls (photo above), then drove to Burney (the town) for food supplies, ice, more pizza...and beer.

A spot procured in Cave Campground, we set up for the night. Then, Dr. Bobo and I took advantage of the proximity and toured the Subway Cave, a lava tube about one-third-mile in length.

The entrance to the

Subway Cave lava tube.

(Take a flashlight!)

8/31/27, Monday (Day 9) (NOBO) - Mud Lake trailhead (mm 1381.8) to Road 22 (AKA Bidwell) junction (mm 1395.1)

Up at 7AM, we proceeded to the trailhead with another plan to break our day's hike into two smaller segments. The air hazy, with smoke we surmised, all but obliterated a view of Lassen some 39 miles distance. With cell connection and a check of an app, we concluded that several fires in Oregon and the wind direction were likely to blame for the reduced visibility.

I couldn't decide if I smelled smoke, though imagined I did occasionally.

At 8:40AM, we began our hike. The trail ran mostly level and twisting, roughly parallel to the ridge, traversing through chaparral initially, then transitioning to ponderosa.

The full sun, only partially filtered by the haze, beat down upon us. Thankfully, a light-moderate breeze helped keep us cool.

We passed a large water cache, which I guessed to be comprised of fifty one-gallon jugs of water, and with a sign requesting not to post it's location.

Dr. Bobo awaited us at the designated interim meeting point, a dirt/gravel road junction (34N94) (mm 1389.0), where Wrongway and I snacked and rested before continuing on at 12:4PM.

We rested on a wooden bench aside a radio/microwave tower, and enjoyed a hardy chuckle about the letters RIP, which had been carved into the backrest.

Apropos, Prim8?! Though I hoped not so in the more common sense.

My feet ached; Prim8 wailed.

We finished our day's trek at 3:30PM, drove to Old Station, where we obtained the necessary coins to pay for showers.

Not hot! Prim8 demanded.

You got it, buddy. Lukewarm, then cool. After my scrub down, I checked my feet to discover another blister on my left big toe. What do I need to do to prevent this? I concluded that a new pair of boots may be in the offing.

We drove to Burney for another pizza...and beer, then camped at Honne Campground.

9/1/26, Tuesday (Day 10) (NOBO)- Road 22 junction (mm 1395.1) to Baum Lake Road (mm 1408.4)

With more opportunities to meet Dr. Bobo at several interim spots along the way, we began hiking at 8:35AM.

The cooler air, and my arm stockings, helped offset the heat from a relentless sun in a cloudless and much clearer sky.

Our hike went smoothly, aside from Prim8 nagging me about my aching feet.

11:45AM, after an ~7-mile jaunt, we came upon Dr. Bobo at the dirt/gravel road junction (36N07A).

I took opportunity to down an Advil. That should help, Prim8.

Following a snack and rest, we continued. A strong breeze cooled us, and reduced our need to consume water.

Once we'd rendezvoused with Dr. Bobo, we headed to nearby Baum Lake to watch the numerous species of birds resting and feeding there. By chance, a muskrat existed his lair on a mission to collect what appeared to be a twig before returning to it.

Tiny, Prim8 marveled.

A rare treat, Prim8. I'd never seen one up close.

As if by habit, we headed to Burney for pizza...and beer, then, motored to Cassel Campground.

A weather check suggested 1/10-1/4 inches of rain around 2AM, so we battened the hatches with rain flies, a tarp in my case. I steeled myself for a dash to the car, in the event of strong wind scuttling my engineering arrangement.

9/2/26 Wednesday (Day 11) (NOBO) - Baum Lake Road (mm 1408.4) to Britton Lake Dam (mm 1421.8)

I'd heard a few drops of rain through the night, and the ground appeared only slightly affected when we arose at 6AM.

Under an overcast sky, and in the 58-degree air, according to Wrongway, we prepared for our day's hike...to be broken into three segments by meeting Dr. Bobo twice along the way. That plan struck me as sacrilegious for PCT hiking, but what the hay? I took an Advil as precaution against aches/pains.

We left Dr. Bobo at 7:35AM for our first segment, meeting him again at 9:30AM.

Twenty minutes later, we were on our way again. I downed another Advil to dampen my left leg shin pain. To my surprise, my left knee continued to be pain free. We marched on steadily, remaining cool under an overcast of clouds, which threatened rain.

At 12:13PM, we again met Dr. Bobo (our second rendezvous of the day).

Continuing on at 12:50PM, and despite my level-4 shin pain, we finished our day's hike of 13.1 miles, ending at Britton Lake Dam at 13:49PM without encountering rain.

Once in Wrongway's RAV4, small water droplets moistened it's windshield.

"Perfect timing," I observed.

We headed to Old Station, angling for another pizza, if possible. One pie acquired, we drove to Big Pine Campground, where we consumed it along with cold beer.

In the cool air and under an overcast sky, we again anticipated rain during the night. With appropriate preparations completed, i.e., rain flies and trap deployed respectively, we settled in.

I'd lucked out so far, but wondered if my fate would take a turn for the worse. However, though I heard sprinkles at times during the night, everything remained favorable to my staying warm and dry.

9/3/26, Thursday (Day 12) (NOBO and SOBO) - Unpaved West Prospect Overlook Road (mm 1371.2) to dirt/gravel road junction near Highway 44 (mm 1378.3), then Mud Lake junction (mm 1381.8) to Mud Lake trail junction (mm 1381.8) to Highway 44 (mm 1378.3).

Arising at 6AM, we packed gear as light rain coated every exposed surface.

Spared once again, Prim8!

Wrongway and I marched off at 7:01AM, then met Dr. Bobo at the road junction (mm 1378) at 10AM. Then, we drove to the Hat Creek Lookout (mm 1381.5). A moderate, cold breeze blew steadily as Wrongway and I headed southbound and off the ridge toward the valley floor at 10:25AM.

The dismal aftermath of a

wildfire in Hat Creek Valley.

Note the regrowth occurring.

The rain steadily increased, though not enough to drench us, while the wind remained civil.

Though rocks littered a good portion of the trail, and I remained vigilant not to stumble, we moved steadily and achieved our objective by reaching Dr. Bobo at the dirt/gravel road junction near Hwy 44 by 11:55AM.

Celebratory beers all around, we toasted our successful sectional hike from near Chester to McCloud, covering ~143 miles. However, Wrongway and I had to attend to one more detail, a previously uncompleted 15-mile segment between Chester and Sierra City. So...we headed southward to Quincy, CA, with intent to do just that!

We spent the night in a Quincy motel, about which Prim8 reveled.

9/4/26, Friday (Day 13) (SOBO) - Paved Quincy-LaPorte Road, gravel parking area (mm 1236.5) to unpaved road junction near A Tree spring (mm 1221.0)

Following a 4:30AM wake-up, then a 90 minute drive to our starting point, Wrongway and I bundled up in rain gear for the sporadic episodes of light rain and a strong gusting wind. In accord with a weather forecast of rain ending around noon, we started southbound at 6:30AM.

Bundled up to stay dry and warm, I broke into a sweat within the hour. Crap, Prim8! I declined to pause to remove gear. Who knew what rain we would still encounter?

Light rain continued sporadically, and often fell in large drops from the trees that lined the path. My back ached for which Prim8 voiced his displeasure, so I consumed two Advil. Meanwhile, I grew wetter, and at some point, realized that my water proof coat and pants

were failing me...but onward I trekked.

We'll be done when we complete this stretch, fella! That didn't quiet Prim8, though.

Drops of water continued to strike us. Cold wind continued to blow. Our body core was warm while we were moving, however.

We encountered a camouflaged bow hunter, who stated that he abandoned his day's plans due to strong, cold wind at the exposed ridge ahead.

No! Prim8 wailed.

We'll just need to keep moving, dude. As long as we are warm enough, we'll be okay. Well, "warm enough" were the salient words! My hands, face, and feet were chilled to the bone. It crossed my mind that frostbite may result, at least in my toes, which squished water with every step.

Indeed, the wind blew hard along the ridge trail. But I continued to move forward, soaked, achy, fatigued and miserable.

About halfway along, Wrongway and I paused for 10-15 minutes to replenish our energy. I downed two Advil. Wrongway offered to loan me his rain jacket, but I declined. At some point, he noted that the lowest temperature for the day had been 40 degrees.

"As long as I keep moving, and the wind doesn't blow a gale, I'll stay warm and be okay," I said, fingers crossed.

I worked to keep pace, despite my fatigue, miserable condition and continued back pain, generally zigzagging down the trail like a drunken sailor. Wrongway commented that he'd noticed me staggering and hunching over, which I couldn't dispute.

We continued on, me going as fast as I could manage.

Several miles on, Wrongway offered to carry my back. "I've got the energy, and want to finish our hike as soon as we can," he said.

I was in no condition to argue his point, so relented. He'd made a good point. I was slowing our combined progress.

Though time dragged on as I plodded down the trail, we reached the RAV4 and Dr. Bobo at 2:50PM.

Feeling like a soggy dishrag, and Prim8 eager to warm up inside the RAV4, I told Wrongway and Dr. Bobo, "Well, THAT (emphasis added)...was a miserable fifteen miles."

Once again, however, congratulations were in order. Finally, Wrongway and I had completed a previously missed segment, and now had hiked the PCT from near Sierra City (mm 1191.6) to Etna Summit (mm 1581.0), a total of 390.4 miles...or thereabouts.

We drove to Sierra City...had to...in order to introduce Dr. Bobo to Sorracco's Saloon, and where I could indulge another Kentucky Tangerine Cream Ale (beer).

Prim8 was beside himself with anticipation.

And alas, we consumed cold brews at Soccarro's. Me? I relished a Kentucky Tangerine Cream Ale, and then a Kentucky Vanilla Barrel Ale, while Prim8 went to hog heaven. Afterward, we spent the night at the Old Sierra City Hotel.

9/5/26, Saturday - We drove to Morgan Hill, dropped Dr. Bobo at his car, exchanged our farewells, then Wrongway and I headed to Gilroy to spend the night before our return home on Sunday.

Previous lesson learned, I've scheduled a left knee replacement. As well, I've acquired a new rain jacket and pants, and will contemplate purchasing new boots!

Miracle of miracles, the cortisone injection had eliminated my knee pain. And, two sections of the PCT completed (Mexico to Cottonwood Pass, and Sierra City to Etna Summit), Wrongway and I have hiked roughly 1,139 miles of the PCT. Though not quite half of it's total length, we've made a good showing...so far. Fingers crossed!

Walk in beauty.

Leapfrogging NOBO (PCT)

Bottom line: Hiking requires sweat equity and working body parts!

Primate celebrates the completion

of his first 1,000 miles on the PCT!

(He still needs to get to the car,

almost a mile downhill, however.)

6/27/26, Saturday (Day 0) - Prim8 and I rendezvoused with Mark R. (Wrong-way) at the Evergeen Hotel in Shasta City prior to commencing our sectional hike of the PCT from near McCloud, CA (Halfmile PCT Notes, mm 1474.5) to Etna Summit (Halfmile PCT Notes, mm 1581.0).

Our plan: Car camp to allow for day hiking (avoid carrying weight by packing overnight gear, food, bear canister, etc) by alternating our vehicles to "leapfrog" northward (NOBO) on the PCT, though hiking SOBO segments each day. As a result, we needed two sets of overnight gear (tents, sleeping bags, toiletries, etc), one set in each car.

Note: I continue to use PCT Halfmile marker designations, though while hiking, I relied on Wrong-way's references to a FarOut cell phone app. And the two references don't match! The important point for us is to hike the sections that we've not previously done, regardless of the mile marker system we're using!

6/28/26, Sunday (Day 1) - Cabin Creek Trail junction/Road 38N82 (mm 1486.5) to Road 38N53 junction (mm 1474.5, our southern most point on the PCT during this trip)

Following a hardy breakfast at the Black Bear in Shasta City, we parked my car near the trial, then drove Wrong-way's RAV 4 to the Cabin Creek Trail junction.

Beginning our SOBO hike at 10AM under clear skies and in a cold breeze, we soon adjusted to the temperature while hiking. I soon felt wet with sweat, so removed my fleece jacket, and replaced my wool skull cap with a broad-brimmed hat.

Immediately, Prim8 made it clear that he didn't appreciate the pain intensifying in my left leg. I'd figured my arthritic knee would be a problem, though was unsure as to what degree. Regardless, I hobbled onward. During the day, various parts of my left leg, from hip to foot, joined in the pain-fest, as if in a concerted effort to induce me to quit hiking.

Stop! Prim8 demanded.

Okay. You'll get no argument from me, fella.

I paused periodically to catch a breath, and in hopes of easing the pain. Alas, the pain subsided only slightly and briefly, building again once I continued on.

Wrong-way showed me a video and picture that he'd taken of a bear.

Bear! Prim8 gasped.

"I missed it," I said. Just as well, probably.

Can you see the lurking bear?

(Photo courtesy of Wrong-way)

5PM, we arrived at my car, then stopped in Shasta City for dinner, before continuing to Castle Crags State Park campground.

Contrary to my hopes, my leg ached all night, and I had difficulty sleeping.

6/29/26, Monday (Day 2) - Soda Creek/near Interstate Hwy 5 (mm 1502.7) to Cabin Creek (mm 1486.5)

Reloading our night's gear into my car, Prim8 filled with dread and not a happy camper, I knew something had to give. I'll try Advil, Prim8. That should take the edge off, at least.

We left my car at 7:15AM under a thin, high overcast. The cool temperature and breeze felt pleasant, even more so once I began to sweat. My leg discomfort seemed subdued, yet after an hour or so, the pain had returned to the previous day's intensity.

No, Prim8 griped.

We can tough it out, guy, I countered, fingers crossed.

We arrived at Wrong-way's vehicle at 4:15PM, Prim8 giving me fits over my continued left leg pain.

Once again, though in Wrong-way's car, we dined in Shasta City, then car-camped in Castle Crags State Park.

The temperature through the night was pleasant, yet I slept little, and poorly at that.

6/30/26, Tuesday, (Day 3) - Dog Trailhead (mm 1509.2) to Soda Creek/near Interstate 5 (mm 1502.7)

I discovered a blister had grown on the big toe of one foot and, on the other, a small toenail had irritated that reddened toe, despite wearing new boots!

No! Prim8 protested.

Perhaps, I should've broken these boots in beforehand, guy. But, at least, those particular pains are explained! The least of my issues, I trimmed the toenail and wrapped it and the offending blister with tape. As for my sore leg, I downed a couple of Advil along with my usual regime of script meds and supplements.

Breaking camp and repacking the car, we asked ourselves and each other questions such as, Where did I leave that?, Have you seen it?, and Did I put one in this car? We began to realize that tracking duplicate items, one in each car, would be a challenge.

"Hey Mark, remember the 'Catholic Sign of the Cross'? That might help." I gestured as I said, "Keys (car keys, of course), wallet (driver's license, credit card/money), water (for the day's hike), and filter (water filter)." Those constituted the bare essentials to carry, given our current circumstances!

Our day's hike started ~9:15AM from Dog Trail Junction in good weather and cool temperature.

I suffered the pain in my left leg, somewhat reduced by the Advil, while Primate periodically demanded, Stop!

Alright, alright. I usually needed to catch my breath and cool down, per my sweat-fest in full swing as the day's temperature increased. One step at a time, fella.

Wrong-way usually proceeded ahead of me, though waited at chosen spots for me to catch up.

Prim8 points the way

from the wooden bridge

at Winton Canyon Creek.

1:50PM, we arrived at my car at Soda Creek/near Interstate 5 (mm 1502.7), Prim8 screaming about my on-going leg ache.

We headed to Shasta City for some cooked food (and beer, of course), then onto the Gumboot Summit Junction.

"Maybe, we should start our hikes earlier," I opined. "Before sunrise," I added.

Wrong-way agreed, though Prim8 wasn't keen.

Once again, overnight temperatures were pleasant, as I squirmed inside my sleeping bag, shielded from blood-suckers by one-man "Bug Hut." My leg ache just wouldn't quit.

7/1/26, Wednesday (Day 4) - Gumboot Trailhead (mm 1526.7) to Dog Trail junction (mm 1509.2)

Usual routines of breaking camp completed, following our 6AM wake-up, we hit the trail as an array of dawn colors filled the sky.

The downhill portion of the day's segment (some 3,500 feet) felt torturous as my leg-ache increased to a near-intolerable level...and sooner...despite helpings of Advil. Sun rays beat down upon us off and on, and, by Wrong-way's best estimation, the temperature rose to 90 degrees.

Castle Crags as seen

from the west.

Near the end of our day's hike, about 2.5 miles remaining, Wrong-way offered to carry my pack.

Prim8 didn't complain, and I relented, saying, "I don't want you to feel that you need to babysit me." Something's gotta change, Prim8.

I resolved that I'd schedule an appointment with my orthopedist to replace my offending joint, which he'd told me he would do, "...whenever you're ready."

Once at Wrong-way's RAV, we drove to Shasta City for dinner...including beer, before procuring a campsite in the local KOA. Once our camp was set up, we availed ourselves of showers, which for me consisted of rinsing off my residual stink and donning my same sweaty clothing. (I didn't have soap nor clean clothes in Mark's car!)

7/2/26, Thursday (Day5) - Parks Creek Road junction (mm 1540.7) to Gumboot Trail junction/Hwy 26 (mm 1526.7)

At 9:25AM, we left Mark's car in the ample parking area at the road junction, then headed southward in excellent hiking weather.

Unshielded from the sun, the air temperature rose and we were slow-cooked as the day progressed.

A well-deserved lunch break at noon, and about 5 miles along, helped gird me for the remaining 9 miles of the day's hike to my car.

Wrong-way photographs a

few of the many wildflowers

blooming along the trail.

Throughout the day, we were treated to gorgeous views, and my leg pain, though still present, seemed slightly more tolerable. I couldn't determine why, of course, nevertheless felt glad that it hadn't grown worse.

One of the many views

of Mt. Shasta along the trail.

Clouds building, we reached Gumboot Trail junction/Hwy 26 at 5:30PM, fingers crossed that our good weather would continue.

We spent the night under a bright, full moon at Kangaroo Lake campground. Once again, pain in my leg and toes interrupted my sleep.

7/3/26, Friday (Day 6) - Cooper Meadow Trail junction/near Kangaroo Lake campground (mm 1552.8) to Parks Creek (mm 1540.7)

We arose to a clear sky and cool temperature, and started up Fen Trail to the PCT junction, about 1 mile away, at 7:40AM.

Six, or so, NOBO through-hikers passed us in irregular intervals, some chatting with us, some rushing by with little more than a Howdy-do.

At one point, struck by hikers wearing hoodies, I said to Wrong-way, "I don't understand how anyone can stand wearing those in this heat." I grasped the concept of compromise, and hauling fewer articles of clothing, while getting protection from the sun's rays. But still...the heat!

"I guess those are all the rage, now," he replied.

During one rest stop in the shade, Wrong-way noted the temperature to be 65 degrees. It certainly seemed warmer to me!

Our day's hike completed at 3:25PM, we drove to Weed for dinner...and beer, of course. Afterward, we headed to our next car-camp site at Hwy 3/Scott Mountain Summit (mm 1561.2).

Several hours of daylight remaining, and hoping to shorten the next day's segment length, we drove up a nearby gravel road. Thwarted by a locked gate, where numerous parked cars lined both sides of the narrow road, Wrong-way wasn't to be deterred. With his car parked close to the gate, we bushwhacked upslope until we reached the PCT...and right at the Trinity Alps Wilderness boundary (mm 1563.8).

As per the next day's hike itinerary of over 19 miles, and well aware of my leg issue, Wrong-way suggested, "You could hike an additional 2.6 miles segment today to the Highway 3 junction...if you're up to it." (The latter emphasized.) I can do this segment tomorrow, while you wait there with my day pack."

And, though Prim8 catastrophized, I said, "Okay. Seems easy enough, especially without a day pack."

I headed off towards the Hwy 3 junction (mm1561.2) from the Trinity Wilderness sign (mm1563.8).

7/4/26, Saturday (Day 7) - Hwy 3/Scott Mountain Summit trail junction and campground (mm 1561.2) to Cooper Meadow Trail junction/near Kangaroo Lake campground (mm 1552.8)

Wrong-way drove off at 7AM to hike from near the locked gate to the Hwy 3 trail junction where I waited.

In short order, we continued together toward my car at Kangaroo Lake campground some 9 miles on under a cloudless sky with a light breeze. The temperature hovered around 60 degrees, which felt pleasant initially. However, the rising temperature of around 90 degrees, coupled with a clear sky and scarce shade, induced sweating as we hiked.

Can you guess

what this is?

One deer, lying on the trail, arose as we approached, then wandered down the trail until it reached brush, moved off the trail a few feet, and began to browse. I couldn't help but appreciate, and feel awed, that the deer wasn't afraid of us.

Checking us out.

(Who, me in a hurry?)

After the 1.25-mile downhill slog along Fen Trail, we reached my car at 3:22PM. Straight away we drove to Callahan, where we had dinner, and...you guessed it...cold beer.

Only one reason that

I love visiting saloons!

From there, we located an unoccupied horse camp some miles drive away. I wondered about the odds of stepping in droppings as I parked adjacent to a hitching post.

Settled in early, about sunset, we hoped to rise at 3:30AM for another earlyish start.

The night temperature proved pleasant as the waning moon advanced across the sky.

7/5/26, Sunday (Day 8) - Carter Meadows Summit/Hwy 93 trailhead (mm 1581.0) to Trinity Wilderness boundary sign (mm1563.8)

I'd had a pleasant night, though not without some leg discomfort. By this point, I'd concluded that was a new norm, at least during this trip. More Advil, please!

We started our day's hike at 4:30AM. Once the sun had risen, thin, high clouds helped shade us...somewhat.

We encountered deadfall trees on numerous occasions, which necessitated awkward clambers over the larger, more inconsiderably placed, trees.

Wrong-way assisted me over a number of the more difficult ones, and at one point referred to my hiking pole as a"cane."

Am I that decrepit? I wasn't quite sure how to respond to that, and, being thankful for the assistance, said nothing.

One of the many spectacular

views along the trail.

The day had grown hot before we finished our marathon hike of 11 hours, I felt knackered and relieved.

We stopped in Callahan a second time (nearest town on our route) for a beer! Then, we proceeded to Etna, where we consumed a cooked meal, along with more beer. We recognized a number of NOBO through-hikers whom we'd passed on the trail, though we didn't converse with them. (They appeared occupied with their acquaintances.)

7/6/27, Monday (Day 9) - Music Creek Trail junction (mm 1592.9) to Carter Meadows Summit Trailhead (mm 1581.0)

Up at 4:30AM, we drove 9 miles to the parking area of Music Creek nearest the PCT. At 6:05AM, we missed the trail leading to the PCT initially, so backtracked to the parking area before spotting it as it headed off at an oblique angle.

"No wonder we missed it," I said to Wrong-way.

With thin, high clouds above, and in a cool, light breeze, we switch-backed through burned forest and low brush for about 1 mile, until we reached the PCT junction at 7:10AM.

Some segments of trail crossed rock faces.

Prim8 ponders the trail ahead.

We finished our day's PCT hike of 11.9 miles at 3:30PM. Without delay, we drove to Etna for a dinner and beer, then on to Idlewild Campground to spend the night.

We planned for another early start, with a wake-up at 4:30AM, in order to beat the heat...or at least some of it.

It seemed hot, though I had no way to know the temperature for sure.

7/7/26, Tuesday (Day 10) - Etna Summit/Sawyers Road junction (mm 1600.7) to Music Creek Trail junction (mm 1592.9)

Following our routines of sorts, we broke camp, then headed off for the Etna Summit/Sawyers Bar Road junction (our northern most point on the PCT during this trip)

The sky was cloudless when we left the car at 5:50AM. The trail ascended about 3,000 feet over the next 3.5 miles, and my leg pain remained at a constant level, and mostly tolerable. As it turned out, my leg functioned quite well on the uphill, though I loathed the upcoming descent.

Again, we were treated to gorgeous views of the mountains and valleys eastward.

Sure enough, my leg pain increased as we descended, but I knew I could tough it out. Had to!

Prim8 celebrated our achievement of hiking our first 1,000 miles on the PCT when we arrived at the Music Creek trailhead, despite the fact that we still faced a descent to Mark's RAV nearly a mile away. That seemed to take forever, though we arrived at 11:35AM.

Knackered, Prim8 and I headed to Red Bluff for the night, and hopefully a good shower, restful sleep and breakfast before driving the remaining several hundred home. (Still a long drive!)

7/8/26 - Still knackered when I arrived home, I sought out my recliner in order to begin recovery.

Distance covered on the PCT this trip: Road 38N53 trail junction near the McCloud River (mm 1474.5) to Etna Summit/Sawyer Road (mm1600.7) 126.2 miles! A considerable distance, in light of my left leg problem. Thus, our accumulated miles on the PCT passed 1,000 miles on our last day's hike.

Time to junk the old knee, and opt for a newfangled trade-in!

Note: Though we spotted numerous animal species, we encountered no trail angels. Apparently, they don't exist in northern California!

Walk in beauty.

Slowly Making Headway (PCT)

Bottom Line: What goes up, always come down . . . usually in an undulating fashion.

Prim8 (Primate) points the way.

(Photo credit: Mark R.)

3/30/22 (Silverwood Lake to Power Lines) - Mark and I rendezvoused at the Cajon Junction McDonald's at 6AM, per plan, while the black of night and the cold temperature suggested winter, rather than spring.

Following the purchase of coffee and a breakfast snack, we drove to the terminus of our day’s hike, located several miles off the paved road, and parked my car under a power line tower at PCT mile marker 340.5. Then, we carpooled, down the ungraded rock cluttered and rutted road, continued over civilized roadway to our starting point at the Silverwood Lake day use parking area.

We’d start in pleasant cool temperatures, but with an unobstructed sun everything would warm soon enough.

“Feels pleasant at the moment, “ I told Mark.

* * *

The trail led us on a semi-navigation around Silverwood Lake, past Cleghorn Picnic Area, then under Hwy 138, all the while temperatures rose to the mid-70’s.

My legs and feet complained.

Fingers crossed, Prim8, that we don’t have a major problem coming on.

* * *

When we’d arrived at my car, PCT mile marker 340.5, “Not bad, “ Mark said, once he finished his calculations. “We hiked 2.4 mph, if we include our lunch break, and 2.7 mph without.”

“Yeah, pretty good,” I said. Fairly respectable, don’t ya think, Prim8?

Sore, Prim8 moaned.

Let’s hope it isn’t worse tomorrow, Prim8.

The elevation gains and losses along an undulating trail are nothing to laugh about. Though the differential elevations of our day’s start and finish amounted to 670 feet, we’d gained 987 feet at the highest point. Worse, the trail inevitably headed up, then down as it snaked through the mountains.

After a Mexican dinner in Phelan, I settled into my hotel room for the night at Cajon Junction and fell asleep with little difficulty.

(Our day’s distance? 17.8 miles.)

3/31/22 (Power Lines to 3N31 / Crossing I-15, southbound) - My phone alarm sounded all too early, as is always the case for me at 5:30AM.

Again, Mark and I rendezvoused at McDonald's for some light breakfast and coffee.

Let’s not make this a habit, I thought.

This time, however, my gear occupied my trunk, as we would relocate farther along the trail after today’s hike.

As today’s objective appeared more downhill going southward, than going northward, we opted to reverse our general hike direction.

I’m not a purest! Either direction will work for me, as long as I hike every mile. Even if I skip a section here or there, and hike them out of sequence.

We left my car at mile marker 340.5—same as yesterday—then drove Mark’s four-wheel drive SUV to our starting point at mile marker 356.2, a junction with an unpaved road, designated 3N31.

We started our hike at 7:40AM, my feet and legs recuperated from yesterday. Cool temperature with occasional breezes helped ward off an out-of-control sweat fest, and as well reduced my body’s demand for water.

All part of the plan, as a calculated risk, we carried less water—the bulk of weight in many a pack.

“Wrong-way” Mark poses at a water

cache at the Swarthout Canyon Road

junction. I counted seventy-one

one-gallon water jugs and most

were full. We required none,

however.

If large animal encounters in the wilderness are a hiker’s concern—lions, tigers and bears, oh my—maintaining a supply of water, a constant and underlying consideration, dominates all decisions.

For most of the day we hiked in the open, with only occasional shade from trees.

As yesterday, we maintained a respectable pace, though I admit I slowed on a number of the uphill portions, particularly as the day progressed.

Prim8 spies I-15 in the distance.

(Photo credit: Mark R.)

The trail descended towards the highway, though rather than taking a straight path and in keeping with the PCT trail route designers sense of humor, we crossed over one railroad track, then under another via a culvert. Who thought that up?

Prim8 reaches for mile-marker

420 on the culvert wall.

(Photo credit: Mark R.)

About noontime we passed under I-15 via another culvert, even wider and made of concrete. One serious drainage structure, indeed.

Wouldn’t want to face this after a serious rain, Prim8.

I tiptoed through what appeared to be a trickle of water, inches deep, as my eyes adjusted to the tunnel’s low-light conditions. I followed Mark’s route, angled towards and hugged one side, hoping an unseen hole with my name in it wasn’t lurking.

After existing the culvert, we

passed “the sign.” (Famous or

infamous? I can’t say.)

Mark and I parked our behinds on a nearby picnic table—how convenient!—on the eastern side of I-15 and just feet beyond said sign.

“Would you hike to McDonald’s from here?” Mark asked.

“No way, I’d hike there today,” I retorted. Who knows, if I’d been hiking the trail for a few days?

Yeah, milkshake, french fries, Prim8 said.

You’re just a glutton, Prim8.

As Mark and I munched our uncooked food, we watched traffic move along the highway and the trucks headed uphill as they queued at the weigh station.

Though we’d lose elevation overall on today’s section, we’d gained elevation here and there, but between I-15 and my car, we were on an uphill leg again.

Up, down, up, down. If that isn’t a PCT hiker’s motto, it’s their bane.

Why are we doing this, Prim8?

Not relishing the remaining elevation gain for the remainder of today’s stretch, but looking forward to my car’s softer seat, I felt ready, mostly, to push on when we’d eaten our fill.

* * *

At my car near 2:20PM, Mark reported, “We made good time, 2.2 mph, if we include our lunch break, and 2.7 mph, if we don’t.”

“Like yesterday,” I said. I’ll take it, Prim8. No questions asked.

Driving the ungraded rock-cluttered and rutted road to retrieve Mark’s seemed less of good idea as my car’s undercarriage scraped and banged against rocks.

Mark’s comments reflected his growing concern as we crawled up the road. Finally, he said,

“I’m concerned about this. Turn around here and I’ll walk the remaining distance to my car.”

“Are you sure?” I said.

Though willing to offer my car’s best effort, I wasn’t gonna argue Mark’s idea.

“Okay’” I said.

“Go on down. Wait for me at the road junction,” he said.

My drive down didn’t seem as bad as the drive up.

* * *

Once we’d rendezvoused again at the junction with Swarthout Canyon Road, we headed to Santa Clarita.

Mark had explained to me earlier, referring to the next 60-odd mile northbound stretch, “Accessibility to the next sections of trail looks problematic and we’ll encounter snow.”

Colder, slower, more gear. “Whatever we miss now we can fill in later after the snow melts,” I said in agreement. No need to torture ourselves, Prim8.

Who was I kidding? My legs, feet and knee were getting tortured . . . and plenty, snow or no snow.

* * *

We checked into our hotel rooms in Santa Clarita, showered, jaywalked the street for dinner, then prepared for another early hike start tomorrow.

I mulled over my gear options. What to carry? Do I need my larger, expedition pack? Or can I stuff everything into my day pack? Would tying my sleeping bag to the top of my day pack work well enough?

Planning for an overnighter on the trail, with a hike distance of 27 miles between our vehicles, we both wanted to haul as little weight as possible. No way I’d hike that distance without a significant rest stop.

I opted to use my day pack, go bivy style, as the weather predicted no rain. I stuffed my pack with a thin ground cover, an inflatable sleeping pad, and tent fly to keep dew off my sleeping bag—just in case—as well as a long-sleeved wool shirt, a thin rain jacket and dried food. Then, I added about one-and-a-half gallons of water.

Jeez Louise, water is heavy!

Finally, I tied my lightest, and newest high-tech, sleeping bag onto the pack using a bit of cord Mark had given me. Needless to say, most of the weight of my load consisted of water. No stove, no tent, only the barest of essentials, bearing in mind elevation, likely nighttime temperatures and an absence of precipitation in the weather report.

4/1/22 (Into the Wilderness: Mill Creek Summit to Messenger Flats Campground) - Up before the sun, again, we consumed a hardy meal at a Denny’s before our wilderness overnight experience.

Last meal for a condemned man? I wondered.

My car parked at Indian Canyon Trailhead, Mark drove us to the Mill Creek Summit Fire Station at PCT mile marker 418.6, where the paved road, N3, crests a pass on its southbound way towards Greater Los Angeles.

Though quickly tired by the immediate, and generally sustained, ascent of nine hundred feet, I hiked along at a decent pace—I thought—while Mark left me in the proverbial dust.

No surprise, my feet and legs complained from the start. Wouldn’t let up.

What do I need to do, Prim8? At least my feet haven’t started a blister convention.

I slowed my pace here and there to catch my breath and allow my bones a short rest, while Mark forged ahead without problem.

Trees, downed by strong winds, no doubt, blocked the trail occasionally, and provided me opportunity to catch my breath while Mark cleared selected branches.

A grand vista with a reminder

of past conflagrations.

Cresting a hill or arriving at a pass is cause for many a hiker to celebrate. Well, me for sure. Every hiker understands the joy of a change of pace, where the trail’s grade changes, sometimes upward, sometimes downward, sometimes leveling. Whatever provides a change of the stresses and demands on muscles and joints can bring some relief, if only temporary.

Yay, we’re almost there, Prim8.

When I caught up to Mark at the pass, our day's highpoint, where he’d paused for a rest break—and allowed me to catch up, I suspected—“I think that’s Messenger Flat Campground down there,” he said.

“Yep,” I said, “has to be.” I hoped so, anyway.

Switchbacks down the 45-degree slope for about a half-mile led to a dirt road which, within a short distance, passed a telltale area, flat with scattered tall trees and clear of brush.

“Looks like there are buildings down there,” Mark said.

I pulled a long stare, scanning for signs of life, though seeing none, said, “I think you’re right.”

* * *

I coasted downhill—felt like I did, anyway—along the switchbacks, though I remained acutely aware that select parts of my body took issue with my hiking.

Got to? Prim8 asked.

Suck it up, fella. No choice, I replied.

Mark and I had the campground to ourselves when we arrived at 2:30PM, PCT mile marker 430.4.

Presently, several issues arose. What to do about a possible bear visitation in the night? Where should we locate our bivy bags?

After surveying the area, I elected to bivy next to a fallen tree. “That tree will help keep the wind off,” I explained to Mark.

He placed his sleeping gear near mine. “I’m going to leave my pack and food in the outhouse,” he said.

“Hmm, good idea,” I said. “I hadn’t thought of that. No way a bear could get in there. Bears aren’t stupid. They manage to break into cars when they spy food through a window.”

Dinnertime came early, our feast consisted of uncooked foods. Mark primarily chowed on meat sticks of various flavors, while I polished off my lunch leftovers of a hunk of cheese, salami slices and piece of bread.

“I think I deserve some dessert,” I told Mark, and sucked the contents from a vanilla-bean flavored GU Energy Gel packet.

When I hung my pack next to Mark’s on a convenient hook inside the toilet stall. That door will keep ‘em out, Prim8. I doubt there’s a bear around who can turn a doorknob.

Other hikers began to arrive as if in a drawn-out queue. By dusk six northbound thru-hikers had swelled the campground occupation to eight.

Mark and I socialized with two hikers from Europe, and exchanged tidbits of information about the trail condition, both ahead and behind. They were pushing hard and several days earlier had hiked through the snow conditions that Mark and I had so easily by-passed by car.

Better you than me. I knew the advantages and relative ease of day hiking will disappear somewhere up the trail, when I’ll pound ground and face overnight camping for more than one night at a stretch. And Mark and I, knowing we needed to prepare, we’re using this overnight hike as a learning opportunity to provide us answers to logistical issues we’ll face.

One of the two European hikers had run out of food, while the other’s supply neared its end.

Not a good thing, Prim8.

Though they indicated they would resupply in Acton tomorrow, Mark and I contributed some of our dried food to the needier of the two.

No reason not to do so. What goes around, comes around, I reasoned.

At a respectable time, I tucked into my sleeping bag with two Ibuprofen on board, hoping they would alleviate the aches and pains in my lower extremities, particularly my knee. My feet felt reasonably good. Apparently, my latest gear selection had helped prevent a major outbreak of blisters.

At least some things were going my way, though for a hiker there’s always tomorrow’s challenges.

4/2/22 (Return to Civilization: Messenger Flats Campground to Indian Canyon Trailhead) - Snug and comfortable at first, I hoped for sweet dreams in the wilderness. The sounds of the breezes, as well as humans in the campground, quieted.

Aroused by the unmistakable arrival of a vehicle, followed by opening and closing doors, I wondered what would come next.

Great! A noisy, rowdy, unsympathetic group, unappreciative of a hiker’s day’s toil, gonna keep me awake?

Silence returned shortly after, however, and yet, I could hardly return to sleep.

Crap, why are my feet cold? I’ve got my socks on.

Worse, I verged on shakes and shivers. Verged, I say, not shaking or shivering, but wondering when that might start. Well, one question answered. Clearly, my bivy configuration won’t cut it when temperatures drop below the 40’s.

Regardless, I laid there, if for no other reason to rest as much as possible, while I pondered how to warm my feet. Wiggling my feet occasionally didn’t work. Not one iota.

* * *

“Connard, time to get up,” Mark said.

“Okay,” I responded. May as well, Prim8. Won’t get warmer laying here.

In the dark, and knowing it would take a few minutes to warm up with activity, I considered that preferable to feeling chilled with inaction. Besides, we had miles to go before we slept again.

The through-hikes gone,I spotted two vehicles the parking area, while a tent stood nearby.

Pleased that I’d re-stuffed my day pack with gear in short order, I listened as Mark chatted with weekend campers who’d soon have the area to themselves.

Chat-fest over, Mark pulled out his supply of pain meds. “Want an Ibuprofen? Or two?” he said to me.

“Just one,” I said. “Might help take the edge off, but I don’t want to over do it.”

We walked away from the campground about 6:15AM.

Crud, my knee’s already complaining, Prim8. Hope this isn’t going to be a major problem for my future hiking.

The weather continued to be mild, as predicted. Though the sun glared steadily in a cloudless sky, periodic breezes and tall trees on the north-slope sections of the trail helped me remain cooler, and reduced my need for water.

But the trail didn’t relent. Up, down, up, down.

More than once I cursed those who’d laid out the trail route. Some perverse since of humor . . . or sadism?

The views helped compensate for my misery as I trudged along, Mark usually some distance ahead.

Sunrise over Soledad Canyon.

As is the case, the trail moves on to other terrain, with the scenery of a different ecosystem, confronting the hiker with different challenges.

Looking towards the Vasqeuz

Rocks formation, as best I could

tell, the scenery appeared bleak.

Not infrequently, I cajoled myself. Around the next bend, Prim8 . . . over this next rise . . . the next patch of shade . . . pause to take a photo . . . time for a swallow of water. . . . The need to motivate myself remained never-ending.

Slow means success, Prim8. At least, I hoped it did. And I tracked my water consumption, knowing I lightened my load with each swallow, at the same time calculating the distance to the creature comforts, and water, awaiting at my car. You know, creature comforts like conforming yourself to a plush seat with the backrest reclined and legs outstretched, while blasted by a copious breeze.

Mark paused at a trail, dirt road junction.

I spotted my car, some half-mile distance down the road and perhaps a thousand feet lower in elevation, even before Mark pointed it out.

“See your car down there?” he said.

“Yeah,” I said, relieved.

“I think we need to follow the trail from here,” he said, “rather than take the road.”

“I wouldn’t want to take the road and find out the trail ended up there anyway,” I said.

Down now, Prim8 insisted.

No way, Prim8.

I hated to continue along the trail, lose sight of my car, and contour around the mountain. But, bound and determined, I wasn’t gonna cheat. I don’t want to reclimb this hill later, Prim8.

Plodding along, I knew, or trusted so, each step brought me closer to my car, though Prim8 protested, Wrong way, wrong way.

Just a little farther, Prim8!

When I rounded the mountain, where the trail runs nearly vertically above the paved road, I sighed with relief.

Almost there, Prim8. Let’s not fall off the mountain, though.

A few additional belabored steps and I reached my car at PCT mile marker 444.1.

We’d done it, one step at a time! Our overnight trek amounted to 25.5 more miles.

(Prim8’s accumulated PCT progress: 381.7 miles.)

Walk in beauty.