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.

A Few “Lesser Known and Obscure” Facts I Learned While Visiting Alaska

Bottom line: Traveling is always about experiencing something new!

Janet and I pose as our cruise

ship leaves Vancouver, BC.

Janet and I recently cruised the Inside Passage, then visited a small portion of Alaska’s interior. Though the climate there is notorious for cloudy weather (and rain), we had good fortune. Most days the sky was clear or only partly cloudy, while the temperatures hovered in the mid-fifties, though had climbed to the mid-seventies in Fairbanks.

Sunday – We passengers, 2262 in all, boarded Holland America’s Nieuw Amsterdam in Vancouver, BC, joining the 864, or so, crew. (Visiting entertainers and musicians are considered crew, though they come and go at different ports.)

Monday – Janet and I settled into a hectic self-imposed routine of eat, drink and attend lectures during our first "sea day." Challenged to avoid over-indulgence, we managed a slight degree of restraint. Daily lecturers onboard, and comments as we toured by bus, provided cultural enrichment. (Interesting tidbits are numbered and sprinkled throughout this blog.)

1) Sea life abounds in colder waters. The temperatures allow the water to hold more saturated oxygen, hence, a more diverse ecosystem, e.g. more plankton resulting in whale migrations.

Tuesday – Our ship docked at our first port, Ketchikan, Alaska's most southern city.

2) Ketchikan is located on an island, and is not connected by bridge to the mainland, or the US road system.

3) Some “streets” are mere wooden walkways and staircases, as there were no motorized vehicles present when the city was originally developing.

A narrow, wooden staircase

"street" in Ketchikan.

4) The iconic “scream” of the Bald Eagle in American film is actually the call of a red-tailed hawk. Bald eagles don’t have a fierce or shrill call, which wasn't considered dramatic enough, apparently. That's Hollywood for ya'.

We visited the Totem Bight State Park, where we learned about the native Alaskan practice of carving totem poles for storytelling, clan identification, and shaming stingy neighbors.

5) The poles tell stories (such as of the creation) as the native Alaskans had no written language. The poles didn't serve as idols for worship, however.

Two "older" totems and clan

markings on the buildings at

Totem Bight State Park.

Downtown Ketchikan

waterfront totem.

6) Having a pole carved today could cost $5K-10K per foot!

Janet and I visited the Red Dog Saloon, where we each enjoyed a “Duck Fart,” a delicious shot of a three-liquor combo. (Don’t ask me which liquors, however.)

Janet poses before we

consumed our Duck Farts.

Wednesday – By bus from Juneau, we visited Mendenhall Glacier. Though we kept our eyes open for bears, we saw none.

Mendenhall Glacier near

Juneau, Alaska.

7) Yesteryear lumberjacks built floating houses (even “cities”) in order to move to various logging sites along the coast or harbors.

8) Alaska’s capital is located on Juneau Island–D’you know the capital of Alaska?–and isn’t connected by road to the mainland.

9) The island has two horse crossing signs, but no horses. The climate is not conducive to maintaining horses year-round, as they develop weather related illnesses. So, the horses that had been there were removed, though the signs were left behind.

10) There are almost as many bald eagles (30K) as humans (35K) on Juneau Island.

Thursday – From Skagway (“Gateway to the Klondike” gold fields) we rode by bus into Canada and to the high plateau just beyond White Horse Pass, over which many gold rushers traversed on their way to the Yukon.

11) The gold rushers were forced by Canadian authorities to trek one ton of supplies with them. That requirement necessitated several trips, and/or use of pack animals, to carry sufficient supplies over the pass, an arduous trek, even without gear. In addition, due to rocky terrain, where legs could easily get broken, it proved easier to portage through snow during the winter. As a result of the hazards, including mistreatment from their handlers, some 3,000 horses died making the trip through the pass, earning it the nickname "Dead Horse Trail."

12) Few gold rushers became wealthy, and tens-of-thousands died during the Klondike Gold Rush, though exact numbers are unknown.

13) As lucrative, even more so, than heading into the backcountry for gold, many people, such as the case in Skagway, went to Alaska to “mine” the gold rushers, e.g. saloon/hotel operators, prostitutes and purveyors.

14) We visited the original cemetery where a number of notable Skagway characters were buried ... and appear to remain so. I took note of several comments on a cemetery sign. (Read the first lines for Frank Reid and Ella Wilson.)

Sign at the first

Skagway cemetery.

15) Skagway got electricity before Manhattan!

Janet and I visited the Red Onion Saloon (originally serving as a brothel, as well), where we enjoyed “Reindeer Farts,” (another three-combo liquor shot, though different than the Duck Fart). Again, I don’t know what they were made of, though mine tasted great.

Janet poses at the

Red Onion Saloon.

Friday – In clear weather, we sailed into Glacier Bay and cruised to Margerie Glacier at the bay's head.

Margerie Glacier.

16) Alaska has more glaciers than anywhere else in the world!

Saturday – We proceeded to College Fjord. Clear weather continuing, we cruised to the head of the fjord and observed some “minor” calving from Harvard Glacier.

Harvard Glacier from our ship.

Sunday – Our ship docked in Whittier. We disembarked, and boarded a bus for Anchorage. On the way there, we stopped at the Alaska Wildlife Conservation Center, which rehabilitates rescued Alaskan animals.

17) Porcupines are phenomenal tree climbers, though poor at remaining perched. Warning: always check before standing under a tree, least you get impaled by a falling porcupine.

In Anchorage, Alaska’s most populous city, Janet and I strolled a short distance from our hotel to Ship Creek, in a quest to spot spawning salmon, though saw none. Along the way, we enjoyed ice cream at Wild Scoops , then passed the train depot.

Monday – We headed around Turnagain Arm by bus for a look at Cook’s Bay (Yes, that Captain Cook!) and distant view of downtown Anchorage.

18) Cook’s Bay doesn’t have deep water. Large portions of the bay turn to mudflats during low tide, and the fine silt in the bay (about the consistency of baby powder) has been estimated to be 90 feet deep or more. Dredging efforts produce only temporary results.

Cook's Bay mudflats and

downtown Anchorage.

On our return into downtown Anchorage, we visited the Alaska Native Heritage Center, where we examined artifacts of traditional tribal Alaskan life.

19) One in five Alaskans have pilot’s licenses. (Bush planes being the primary transportation mode.)

20) It’s illegal to drop moose from planes ... or their droppings. (Okay, I realize this needs some explanation.) At one point, some people, otherwise bored, and with a surplus of moose poo about, would bet on how close to a target they can get moose droppings ... and perhaps a moose occasionally. Hence ... the current law.

That evening, thrilled about, and wanting to take advantage of our two-room hotel suite, Janet and I decided to take cocktails to our room from the hotel bar, Fletcher’s. However, we were informed that would require a hotel security escort. Though Janet was somewhat reluctant, I was all in. Why not? (In the end, our security guard carried our drinks, and we weren’t required to be hand-cuffed!) Though I initially speculated that the hotel didn’t want us to steal their glasses, I concluded that the hotel wanted no liability in serving alcohol that could be carried onto the streets of Anchorage.

Tuesday – We boarded the train for Denali National Park, taking seats in an observation car. On our journey north, we were served lunch.

Denali (20,310 feet) from the train.

21) We passed a line of telegraph poles (protected historical monuments) aside the highway. Some years after the telegraph went the way of the dodo in Alaska, the copper wires were removed, though the poles were left standing. Some citizens thought it unnecessary to pay for their removal, and also thought that they were of some historical value. So, today those poles are like totems … left untouched on purpose, to fall and decay at will.

A "historic monument" telegraph

pole along the highway.

Wednesday – Following our first night's stay at the Holland America Denali Lodge, we were taken on the Denali Natural History Tour, riding by park bus along a portion of the one maintained road. Again, though we scanned the terrain for large animals, such as moose and bear, our efforts were fruitless. Two moose were spotted a a great distance, though they were difficult to see without binoculars. I did see a mated-pair of ptarmigan with several chicks foraging just off the road.

22) Largest of the US National Parks, Denali was established to protect Dall Sheep, the only park established for the purpose of protecting animals.

That evening, Janet and I enjoyed a great meal at the Denali Lodge.

Janet shows off her order of

crab cakes, while I ogle my

order of Canadian candied

bacon. (Appetizers, mind you!)

Thursday – We boarded a bus for our transfer to Fairbanks, farther north.

23) “Frost heave,” quite noticeable and a result of permafrost thawing and refreezing, creates a roller coaster effect along portions of the highways.

24) Forest fires are common in Alaska, a natural and necessary process for forest regeneration, e.g. spruce trees require fire to release seeds from their cones. We were required to wait about 20 minutes near one such fire (though we saw no evidence of flames, nor smoke) where the road traffic was escorted and limited to one direction of travel at a time. As I understood the explanation, aspen trees have extensive root systems which can burn/smolder underground for some time, despite the absence of flame above ground. As a result, another outbreak of fire can occur later.

Friday – We visited a portion of the famed Alaska pipeline on the outskirts of Fairbanks.

25) Completed in 1977, it’s still working well, despite an expected lifespan of 20 years. “Pigs” keep the pipe’s inside cleared and the oil flowing. As the pigs move along, they sound like the squeaking and scrapping when glass is cleaned … or so we were told.

Display of a "pig" in

a pipeline. (Note the

original spelling of Alaska.)

Following a short walk and train ride, we visited the nearby Dredge 8, the one remaining river dredge maintained for viewing. I imagined the dredge's operation an odd sight, indeed, only requiring enough water to float, as it backfilled its way along.

Dredge 8, in situ.

There, everyone received a fist-sized "grub bag" (sample of alluvial debris) and taught how to pan for gold. My sample yielded $18 worth of gold specks and Janet’s produced $12. What a haul! But it was easy to see how mere small amounts of the glittery yellow mineral could generate a stampede.

From there, we lunched at the Riverboat Discovery dock near the Fairbanks airport, then boarded the paddle-wheeler, Discovery III, for a short ride down the Chena River.

Along the way, our boat paused so we could watch a dog sled demonstration at Trail Breaker Kennel, currently run by Susan Butcher’s daughter. (Note: Susan was a four time Iditarod winner.)

26) The famed Iditarod Dog Sled Race stems from the need to deliver diphtheria medication to treat an outbreak in Nome in 1925, as there was no other option. Fewer people have finished that race than have climbed Mt. Everest. Generally, there are 26 or 27 checkpoints (depending upon the route selected), and situated 30 to 80 miles apart, over the race length of 1,100+ miles. The sled dogs, huskies, are generally “trotted” at 9 miles per hour, a sustainable speed for them.

The paddle-wheeler continued downstream to the junction with the Tanana River, where we turned upstream.

On our boat's return to the dock, we stopped at the Chena Village Living Museum for several more demonstrations.

Modeling a traditional Alaskan

native dress made of various

animal furs.

We learned about native

Alaskan life and indigenous

animal furs.

Saturday – Our trip ending, Janet and I headed to the airport.

Though disappointed about not seeing bears and moose in the wild, or running salmon, during the land potion of our trip, Janet and I wre thankful of the pleasant weather … and the absence of mosquito hordes. Moreover, we took pleasure in availing ourselves of food, drink and the entertainment/lectures on board the cruise ship.

I remain grateful that traveling widens my world view, and brings me great pleasure and spiritual renewal.

Walk in beauty.

The agony of de-feet, knee … and back (PCT)

Bottom line: Aging pains can be a bee-otch ... particularly when in the wilderness.

6/23/24 (Day 0, “Pre-positioning”) - Prim8 and I met Mark R. in Mojave to gas up the car before we drove to Kennedy Meadows, some twenty-five miles into the wilderness west of Hwy 395. Desert temperatures ranged in the 90’s and low 100’s, and we speculated about hiking conditions in the mountains.

Before this trip, Mark had explained he’d changed his trail moniker during his last PCT section hike from the Mexican border northward as a result from his consumption of pemmican. “I’m going by Tallow now,” he’d told me.

No more changes, Prim8 had demanded, not liking the idea.

“Okay,” I’d told Mark, somewhat skeptical. How many more changes will he adopt, Prim8?

Thus, Mark R., formerly known as Cabo, with the previous alias of Wrong Way, will now be referred to as Tallow.

We pre-positioned my car at Kennedy Meadows for our sectional hike southbound. A north to south hike on this section would eliminate the elevation gain of roughly 4,385 feet. If you’re going to do the distance, why not go downhill rather than uphill?

A traffic accident on Hwy 395 south of Olancha delayed our progress to Lone Pine. Dark clouds hung over the mountains to our west and a few large and sporadic rain drops splattered on Mark’s RAV4 windshield as we waited to continue.

By the time of our arrival, the ranger station in Lone Pine had closed, so we proceeded to Lone Pine’s Dow Villa for the night, where I’d reserved a historic room, sans private bathroom. No problem on that front, however the room felt stuffy and the air conditioning blew tepid air, not cool enough for my liking.

The room’s air still and stuffy, Prim8 complained, Hot!

Then, we’ll lay on the bed in the buff without covers or sheet. Not until the wee hours did I feel comfortable.

6/24/24 (Day 1, “Our Most Northern Position on the PCT”) - After getting takeout at McDonald’s at 5 a.m.—Prim8 wanted coffee and a chicken sandwich—we drove to Horseshoe Meadow at 10,000 feet.

A posted sign near the trailhead parking lot warned of ACTIVE BEARS.

“As opposed to retired bears,” I told Tallow.

Mt. Whitney (the highest sharp

point) from Near Lone Pine.

Under clear sky, Tallow and I hiked to Cottonwood Pass, 11,132 feet, mile-marker 751.4 (according to the FarOut app, which Tallow used, and the PCT posted sign, differing slightly from Half-mile Notes of 750.8).

From the trail junction, we turned south to Trail Pass Trail—I kid you not—at 10,493 feet, mile-marker 744.5. (FarOut indicates the distance is 4.9 miles along the PCT, while Half-Mile Notes says 5.7 miles. Go figure!)

Regardless, we followed Trail Pass Trail back to Horseshoe Meadow.

Looking East from PCT Near

Cottonwood Pass Towards

Horseshoe Meadow.

With clear sky, temperatures for the day ranged from 55 degrees when we left Tallow’s car at 7 a.m. and 80 degrees when we finished the 10.9 mile loop at 12:50 p.m.

Mt. Langely from Trail Pass Trail

in Horseshoe Meadow.

Back at Hwy 395, we stopped at the ranger station for a wilderness permit, then headed the Dow Villa in Lone Pine for the night, I appreciated the slightly cooler temperature in my room compared to the previous evening.

6/25/24 (Day 2, “Southbound”) - We presented at the Alabama Hills Cafe and Bakery at 5 a.m. for breakfast.

“Breakfast isn’t available until six,” the gal said, “but you can get coffee and pastry.”

Tallow and I debated, and decided on take-out.

Hungry, Prim8 demanded, Ham and Cheese pastry.

Though I detest processed yellow cheese, I relented, and ordered one along with a cup of coffee.

Breakfast to go, Tallow drove us to the Horseshoe Meadow trailhead parking lot.

I downed a tab of Ibuprofen in hopes of forestalling an increase in knee pain—coming on of late—before we started our hike at 6:25 a.m. The 55-degree temperature felt surprisingly good once we were under way.

Two hours later, we’d hiked 2.2 miles to Trail Pass Trail/PCT junction at mile-maker 744.5. From there, we continued south bound on the PCT.

What? No blister, Prim8 insisted, as if he could order that, when heel pain suggested something amiss.

It’s probably, a blister, fella, but there’s little we can do about that. “I think my foot is trying to grow blisters,” I told Tallow. “I thought I’d solved that problem.” Apparently not, Prim8.

As the morning dragged on, the cool temperature rose to the 80s under clear sky by noon. Though tree cover diminished for stretches, short rest breaks and breezes staved off my total meltdown. Flies and mosquitoes periodically buzzed us. An application of DEET, and our movement along the trail, combined with gusting breezes, prevented their overwhelming us.

Owens Lake from the PCT.

We arrived at Death Canyon campground aside a running creek, 8,946 feet elevation, mile-marker 730.8 after a ten-hour hike over 13.7 miles.

After a dinner snack, Tallow bear-bagged our food stash in a tree.

Though no bugs hassled Prim8 and me, once Tallow had set up his tent, I retreated indoors to prevent bugs from getting any ideas otherwise.

A blister! No, Prim8 complained, when I checked my feet and discovered one aside my heel.

Nothing can be done about that. We’ll have to tough it out, Prim8. I’d neglected to bring mole skin or band aids, only carried a small stripe of Duct tape for emergencies. We’ll take another Ibuprofen. I hoped to reduce any and all pain during the night to get better sleep, which had eluded me the past several nights, and maybe avoid muscle stiffness the following morning.

6/26/24 (Day 3, “Continuing South”) - 6:40 a.m., the temperature near the low 50s, again, felt quite comfortable. Knee, blister and back pains were negligible, but I downed another Ibuprofen as a pain preventative before we continued southbound.

The temperature rose into the 80s. Short breaks to catch my breath under the shade of a tree now and then, helped compensate for the exposure to the sun’s relentless heat.

Tired, Prim8 frequently complained. Stop! 

Okay. We’ll rest a moment, but we need to keep going.

Hurting, Prim8 griped about my on-going heel blister pain, though that felt tolerable, my knee ache, which seemed consistent, and an increasing lower back pain.

Getting old is for the birds, fella. 

I literally limped across the South Fork Kern River bridge (steel bridge) at 7,832 feet elevation and mile-marker 716.5. We’d totaled 14.3 miles distance and a 1,114-foot elevation drop for the day.

Nesting swallows swarmed under the bridge, collecting bugs to feed their young, while Tallow and I filtered cool water to replenish our bottles after he’d set up his tent.

"Steel Bridge" Across Crag Creek

(PCT mile-marker 716.5).

Exhausted, I reclined on my sleeping pad to eat a light meal and took another Ibuprofen in order to maximize my R&R, rest and recuperation.

Tallow and I decided not to bear-bag our food, as the campground occupation of perhaps a dozen hikers would likely deter most larger critters. As well, we were well out of active bear territory.

6/27/24 (Day 4, “Limping to the Finish”) - 5:35 a.m. The trail continued away from the stream.

Looking North at Crag Creek

and Across Clover Meadow.

We continued over a ridge, then down toward the river again. Remnants of burned and fallen trees, left us with negligible cover from the sun. Hot, miserable and fatigued, Prim8 encouraged frequent breaks, which I took to catch my breath.

I encountered a non-poisonous snake aside the trail before reaching the stream crossing. There, however, an even larger snake—same species, I think—slithered over one of the logs used to aid hikers.

The broad expanse of the Kennedy Meadows, covered with sage brush, made hiking to Sherman Pass Road a continued hot ordeal under unobstructed sun, while the temperature ranged in the 80s. I plodded onward, hiking slowly and taking frequent, though short, breaks, back pain dominating my concern. Thankfully, my knee pain had not increased, while my heel blister had stabilized.

Tallow pointed out a coyote that trotted away, some fifty yards off the trail. “Searching for a wabbit,” he said.

1:50 p.m., we arrived at PCT mile-marker 702.2, elevation 6,009 feet after a 14.3 mile, 9 ½ hour hike.

After retrieving Tallow’s vehicle at Horseshoe Meadows, we spent the night at the Mount Whitney Hotel in Lone Pine—with great air conditioning—before driving home Sunday, 6/28/24.

Note: I’ve decided to stick with the Half-Mile Note mile-marker designations, except for the Cottonwood Pass mile-marker sign, which read 751.4 miles. The remainder mile-marker designations are referenced according to Half-Mile Notes.

Walk in beauty.