July 31
12 miles
We leave the Three Sisters Wilderness to enter the Jefferson Wilderness, which was an area that had been closed off to PCT hikers just 10 or so days before because of two large wildfires. The fires, having been contained and extinguished, did not get very close to the trail, so almost the entire PCT in this section is opened back up. Some hikers who reached this section before us actually bypassed the entire 100 miles, and the further we get into the Jefferson Wilderness, the more I envy them.
The day starts out with a 3 mile hike across more of the lava flow. I am amazed at the sheer vastness of the flow--you can see how it spread for miles and miles, imagining it flowing down the mountains and hills in a terrifying force of nature; some of the mounds reaching 30 feet high or more, hundreds of millions of pounds of lava beneath our feet. But it is tiresome work, walking across these fields. The sun beats down and there is no escape. I start to feel a bit ill as we walk, and regret the additional doughnuts and tea that we had with Coppertone before we left this morning. Perhaps my body was not ready for so much sugar. I find myself lagging far behind Barrel, my stomach roiling and rumbling, not unlike a volcano. I have to stop two different times to go to the bathroom, struggling in the rocks to make makeshift pit toilets. Volcanic rock is not something I would recommend you sit on, bare-assed. When I finally catch up to Barrel, nearing what we hope is the end of the 'lava-licious' path, I start to feel a bit better, and remind myself to take it easy on the treats next time.
We make it out of the lave fields only to find ourselves in burn zone after burn zone. We have walked for miles without shade, and I'm beginning to hate this section. The path becomes increasingly more difficult to follow and even locate amongst all the downed trees and branch debris covering the ground, and I walk behind Barrel like a little lemming. After a while it doesn't appear that we're even on a trail anymore, we're just following random footprints in the soft earth. I get out my gps and it tells us we're off trail. I point my phone in the direction of the trail and walk straight through the forest, scrapping my legs on the branches and trees, trying to get us back to the trail. We eventually see it, sit down to have a snack, and then get up and start walking. Barrel stops suddenly and says, "wait, the sun is on the wrong side; I think we're going south." I check and sure enough, we are going south. We both feel so disoriented, and can't figure out how we got turned around. We walk over burned logs that we've already walked over, and realize we did a giant circle through the forest, like a couple of idiots who haven't been hiking for hundreds of miles.
We get ourselves back on track, do some slightly strenuous climbs in the soft dirt of the burn zones, and then find it's all downhill to the Youth Camp. We are nearing the 2000 mile mark (1000 miles for me), and I imagine there is going to be a huge 2000 mile marker somewhere close by. I make quick time into the youth camp, and it's only after I've gotten there, that I realize I never saw a marker. I've been taking pictures of all the mile markers so far, and feel bummed to have missed this particular one!
We get into the Youth camp just in time for lunch, and are amazed at how welcoming and generous everyone is to us. They LOVE PCT hikers here--the campers greet us excitedly, the counselors want to hear our stories, and everything is FREE. There is of course a donation box, and we all contribute our measly sums of money, but are amazed at how much they give us with no expectation of contribution in return. We take glorious showers and do our laundry, and it doesn't take long for me to feel like I'm 13 again and back at camp. Barrel, who never went to summer camp, finds everything both cult-like and amazing. He finds out they have a Blob out on the lake, and becomes obsessed with getting to use it. More hikers arrive, and soon it's nearing dinner time. I decide to just camp here tonight and stay for dinner, and Barrel follows suit, liking me too much to willingly leave without me. They ask that hikers camp off the property, so it's a bit of a trek to get to the cove they tell us about, and once all 7 of us pitch our tents on the small sandbar, it's a bit crowded--just like camp!
The camp is a Christian camp, and is having their "party night" tonight, which the theme is 'Welcome to the 90s', so dinner is outside, with special Italian soda drinks and homemade pizza, and 90s themed games. Everyone is dressed in 90s attire, which is hilarious, since most of these kids were born in the 2000s. They are playing music from a Christian band called Relient K, which is a band I was obsessed with when I was 14, and I find that I am immediately transported back in time. One of the counselors, who is 18, knows all the lyrics to the songs, and it is slightly weird that 10 years apart, we are connected by a part of my past I never thought I would hear again.
Bambi has shown up at the camp, and I realize I haven't seen him since Sierra City, hundreds of miles back. He is still his same goofy, 19 year old self, and he tags along with Barrel and I, jumping on the "give Pip shit bandwagon for saying inappropriate things" that Barrel has started doing--which is almost every few minutes. If I was 6 or 7 years younger I think he would annoy the hell out of me, but as it is, I find him amusing in a little brother sort of way. We talk to the counselor kids, and they are shocked when we tell them our ages: "Oh my gosh, you're almost 30?! You look like a camper!" Yes, yes, young one, though I look young I am practically elderly as far as you are concerned. :/
After the party, we all make our long walk to the tent site, enjoying the fading light, and planning our departure at 7 tomorrow morning--not wanting to stick around until 8:30 for breakfast. I need to get up early to take a shower and charge my phone, so Barrel and I coordinate our plans and say our routine goodnights. And I think: this is how it's so easy to get sucked in off the trail.
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