8.5 miles
Most everyone leaves around 4:30 this morning. I have a package I'm waiting for, and of course the Post Office doesn't open until noon, so I have no choice but to stick around, twiddling my thumbs, waiting for it to open. There are 4 other hikers waiting for packages, but they are all new to me, and the heat quickly drains any energy for conversation.
The climb out of Seiad Valley is a tough one, made even worse by reports of very little water on the way up. There are two options to get out of the valley: 1) 15 miles of trail, going up over 5,000 ft, or 2) 17 miles of a road walk, cutting out 1,000ft of elevation, with more water along the way. There is much debate between the hikers left as to which option is best, because the road isn't on our maps. I decide I will probably opt for the road, wanting to cut out a bit of the climb and have more water, and hope that at least one other person joins me.
As we're sitting in the shade of the morning, the temperature already creeping up into the 90s, I overhear the manager talking about giving hikers rides to the trail head. I ask Walt, the short, slightly pudgy manager who's missing at least four front teeth, what the deal with getting a ride is. He tells me that it costs $10 a person, and there has to be at least 2 hikers. I think this is just a 1 mile ride up the road, but he tells me he will drive up the entire road, 17 miles, to drop us off at the trail head up the mountain. Suddenly this changes things. One of the other hikers overhears our conversation ans asks me if I'm going to take the ride. Knowing that I wouldn't leave until 5pm tonight because of the overwhelming heat, or have to pay another $12 to camp here tonight and head out early the next morning, this gives me the option to get on trail earlier and bypass the worst of the climb. It's too easy to take this option, so I decide I will wait and see what the other hikers decide to do. The 5 of us decide to mull it over for a few hours before deciding.
I head to the post office, managing to soak my shirt with sweat in the 2 minutes it takes to walk there. How does anyone live here?! I pick up my packages, but am disappointed when it doesn't include a letter that my friend Heather had told me she just sent out. Alas. I try to burn hours--I take another shower, grab a milkshake at the cafe, sit in the shade and check my email, and sweat. Walking back to the little RV park that we're all staying at, I see the woman from the post office heading toward me. She says, "are you Bree?" and I see there is a letter in her hand, and I know immediately it's the one from Heather! I read Heather's letter and feel connected again.
As 3pm starts to roll around, I look to the other hikers, and I can tell the same thing is going through our minds: $10 to avoid a massive climb and terrible heat seems pretty nice. Everyone else decides to opt for the ride, and I jump in too; the collective choice somewhat negating our individual feelings of guilt for bypassing the 15 miles.
Walt crams all 5 of us into his pickup truck, and we begin the 40 minute drive up the mountain. He tells us about his 8 years as a Marine Corps sniper; how he was sent to "take care of a guy, by getting him to take a walk off of the 18th floor"; his time working in a nuclear power plant and meeting Ronald Reagan; and most recently, his hobby of panning for gold and making the big bucks. I'm the only one talking with him, but his stories are too good to just ignore. Eventually we make it up the mountain to the trail head, and start on our ways.
The oldest hiker, Mulberry, and I start to hike, the other three deciding to camp at the trail head and start in the morning. My plan is to go about 3.5 miles to the first spring and camp there. It's still a significant climb up the mountain for the first 2.5 miles, and by the time I get to the top I am dripping with sweat. I pass Mulberry around 6pm, as he's setting up his camp, and decide I'm going to keep going to the spring so that I' don't have to camp dry. I'm walking slowly, knowing I don't have very far to go, but when I get to the spring I realize there is no place to camp. I was told this spring was beautiful by another hiker, and am surprised at how tiny it actually is.
The views from the top of the crest are amazing, and the echoing mountains remind how far I've come, and how far I still have to go.
There are no camping spots listed for this section, so I decide to just keep walking, assuming I will find something in the next couple of hours before it gets dark. Around 8:30 I start to feel a little frantic. The sun is setting and the last thing I want to be doing is night hiking in this section with the idea of when I'll find a place to set up camp. Another hiker did this section a couple of days ago, walking all night, and said he ran into two mountain lions. He didn't have any issues with them, but he said they followed him for about 4 miles.
I flat out run the last 2 miles, trying desperately to find something, anything flat before the last of the sun dips below the mountains. Right as it turns 9pm, as dusk has settled and I'm about ready to get my headlamp out, I come to a flat spot on the top of a crest, and relief floods over me. By the time I set up my tent it is completely dark. I make some ramen, and eat it in my tent. listening to screams that I'm sure are from the mountain lions. It's only an illusion, but I feel so much safer inside my tent; my little house, protecting me from the wild. But I'm becoming more a part of this place, little by little, and most times it feels good to be back on the trail, one step closer to Canada.
