Day 40: Grider Creek

The second alarm went off at 6am and I started getting up. Mikella woke up too and I told her my previous goal of 6:30 no longer seemed realistic. With only six hours of sleep, I just wasn’t moving fast enough. Coffee would help, so I went to the breakfast room at the lobby and got some coffee for both of us and a few breakfast snacks to go with the yogurt I had bought at the grocery store the night before. Then I took another hour doing some clean up things that are hard or impossible to do on the trail. I was ready to go at 8am.

It took well over an hour to get back to Seiad Valley. There was a construction crew working all along the only 2 lane road through the Klamath River Valley. Good thing I had podcasts downloaded for when the conversation ran out. But when we finally got there, I bought Mikella a tank of gas to repay her for the hotel stay (for some reason this lonely credit card pump in the middle of this tiny nowhere town had gas for way cheaper than anything in Yreka, which sat on an actual interstate highway) then grabbed one last food item from the Seiad Store, along with some chocolate milk and a fried pie to give me a burst of hiking energy (none of which were close to as cheap as they would be in Yreka).

We drove out of Seiad Valley and up the road that hikers had to walk along (passing a couple of said hikers along the way) all the way to the actual trailhead. Another long boring roadwalk successfully skipped. We took a selfie together, then Mikella drove off to see Crater Lake while I started hiking up Grider Creek. It was 10am. So the night in Yreka had cost me maybe two hours of hiking time, but I can’t even be sure I wouldn’t have lost that much time anyway given how late I would’ve gotten in.

The trail followed Grider Creek, but was rarely close to it. It stayed up on the side of the ridge above it (and there was a bit of a bushwhack to get up there). There were a few places where the creek got narrow and the trail crossed it on a heavy duty steel bridge. These places were miles apart. The trail condition wasn’t perfect. It felt like a section untouched by trail crews in at least a year. Overgrown sections and lots of deadfalls over the trail.

There was plenty of shade for most of the section, but it didn’t help much. It got up to 90 degrees in the valley that day and stayed super muggy. In fact, even before lunch, I found my sombrero sweatband could not absorb all the sweat from my head, and streams were running down my face and over my sunglasses. I took it off and pulled up my Buff over my head instead like I had done last year.

I ate lunch in an area where a tree happened to be casting a shadow, and somehow summoned every ant in the area, big and small. I had to do a thorough inspection and brushing off before I could hike out.

I didn’t stop again for three hours, in which I only managed to go five miles. It was all uphill and the steady supply of deadfalls to get over and around only seemed to increase in frequency. But when I did, it was at the last bridge, right before the trail climbed out of the river canyon following a minor tributary. So of course I took a break by the water and a quick dip in the deep, slow moving water under the bridge. It seemed like it was the most water I was likely to see in one place for days.

After following the tributary for a bit, the trail switchbacked and started climbing up the hill to some old little used forest roads, and this is where the trail really went to pot. Completely overgrown with tall brush and downed trees crisscrossing or covering the trail every hundred feet at most. It took a lot longer than it should have to do the last quarter mile up to where the roads started, but from there it got much easier. It was still all uphill and hot, but not so overgrown.

I made it to the dead end road/tentsite where I had intended to stop for dinner about 7pm, but soon found I had drunk up nearly all my water and didn’t have enough for supper. So I took the road east, parallel to but below the trail, until it intersected a brook that ran right under it. I collected and filtered water from the stream and immediately made supper from it.

By the time I finished, it was well past eight, so I just left my bear can and stove and took everything else a bit further up the road until it leveled out. I pitched my tent right there. It was well past dark by the time I got to sleep, but a million times warmer than it had been in the mountain two nights before, so it was much easier sleeping. I knew I had a long, hot, grueling, annoying day ahead, so I wanted a perfect rest to bank some energy for it. But that’s a story for the next post.

Trail miles: 18 (6.6 by car)

Distance to Etna: 38.5 miles

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(And now concludes the Mikella version)

The next morning was coffee, breakfast, finding the trailhead, hugs, and sending David back on his way. What a whirlwind.

This was my first backpacking trip and I left with multiple bruises and some great memories. I also learned how to be better prepared on the trail as well as how to take better care of my hydration and nutrition needs. I also now know that I will be heading to REI soon for a hiking boot fitting. Having your foot slip around in your shoe for 8 miles of downhill is highly unpleasant. I also left with a much better sense of what it really is for David to be out on these trails alone. The second day of hiking, we did not see a single soul. Self-sufficiency is a must and that requires good decision making and preparation. David really has it dialed. When setting up and taking down his camp, he is like a well-oiled machine. His backpack is organized thoughtfully. He plans each day’s meal and how much water and food he needs to carry meticulously. It’s fascinating and I admire it very much. Growing up, David had a “ding bat” streak, but I don’t think anyone watching him in the wilderness would ever guess that. I am thankful that despite being an expert David takes the time to teach beginners like me.