August 23, 2013
23 miles
Mile 2313

As it must, the rain began during REM. Light and gentle. The first response to any minor irritation is to ignore it. Offended the god of rain ratcheted up the intensity a notch. Okay, okay I pulled out my tent and threw it over me as a waterproof blanket. Not the response desired, so crank it up. Alright, already. Shit. So at 3:50 AM we set up tents. Mine went up, but a combination of faulty headlamp and stake resistant earth sent orbit back to the waterproof blanket option. The heavens moved toward Ark phase in frustration. I loaned her my headlamp and convinced her to try a new location. Muttering darkly she got the job done. Satisfied, the rain began to taper away.

The morning light gray, grumpy and antagonistic. All wet including all that I owned. I wrote, Orbit walked. Late out of camp with 12 miles to resupply, and not a calorie on my back, I plunged hungrily through the steam on a mission to a menu. My marching trance was broken by an explosion on my left. Thinking IED I jumped into the right side forest. Adrenaline drenched. A sound like 1,000 swirling swords swished by my left ear. I ducked. The big brown bird I had spooked flew away. Instead of trying to identify it, I contemplated it’s taste.

Don’t remember much of the hike after that. Only that I climbed high onto a ridge and stayed there knowing a shortcut to the White Pass store involved following a chairlift down the ski slope. I turned left at the first chairlift I saw. Premature, as the shortcut trail is actually marked on the PCT. I boogied down. Rainier appeared doing the same cloud imitation song and dance. The chairlift ended. Now what? I just kept following runs downward. Took a couple of black diamond runs. Rusty, but did okay. Eventually the longcut brought me to the promised store.

All my packages were there. Thank you Jill and Cirina. As was extreme hospitality and all that was needed. By the standard set of bizarre circumstances I was down to one sock. Try walking miles with that situation. So thrills with a new pair of socks and the fourth and final pair of shoes. Same model, but a faster color. We ate, Interneted, ate, greeted newly arriving hikers, ate, ground dried possessions and try to guess the rest. Orbit off at five, myself at seven, after journel headway and following the Orioles in a close one.

Headed up the trail and into the dark. My new shoes a cushion of cruising joy but too fast for conditions. Snagged on a root, I gently went down. As the dust cleared I noticed Huckleberry’s near my face. A very pleasant lay down snack. Sometimes in life it’s better to stay down after a knock down then get up for more abuse.

Close to the rendezvous at 10 o’clock I missed an arrow on a sign and turned very wrong. Content, plunging toward Death Valley with a good soundtrack going, the sinking feeling was suppressed. The stop. This is wrong. Out with the GPS. It, as confused as I was by the thick forest, sent me here and there. Now we were jointly lost. Sitdown and think. Time for a massive backtrack to the abusive sign and origin of my inattentiveness. A black humor settled. Five hours and 10 miles. Not one of my shining performances. Finally an arrival post midnight. What to do but set up my shrine of respect to the rain gods and shut it all down. Spent the night chasing lost sleep.

Steve Halteman
On the Pacific Crest Trail
Hiking the PCT for the Kids of Escuela Verde

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