Sierra Buttes

I dropped Cindy and Charissa off about ten miles north of Sierra City to hike the Sierra Buttes section the easy way, mostly downhill. I returned to the trailhead near Sierra City in order to hike north, up an infamous eight mile climb, to meet them. At the trailhead I saw Kaiser and Off the Rails, the first 2014 thru-hikers we met. I knew they must have had a tough hitch to back to Sonora Pass. They also took a couple of zero days near Truckee, but put in a 28-mile day to arrive at the same place at the same time as us.

They dreaded the climb ahead of them, as did all the thru-hikers heading north from Sierra City during that very hot day. There could not be a greater contrast between what these 2014 thru-hikers faced and what we faced in 1977. As I hiked north on the trail a flood of memories came back regarding one of our most difficult days on the trail, on only our third day out from Donner Pass.

The day started out well. As we descended into Sierra City we finally got down low enough to be out of the snow. We were met there by friends of Savitt (Dave Beffa-Negrini). They made him an offer he could not refuse, join them at their campground for a big Memorial Day picnic. We gave him one of the two sets of maps, our main navigator Ken of course kept the other set.

Ken and I headed out of Sierra City with the two tenderfoots Howie and Dan. I was tent mates with Howie and carried the whole tent and other shared gear. Dan was tent mates with Savitt, but because Savitt was gone for the rest of the day he had to carry their gear, including the tent. Ken tented by himself and was self-sufficient as always.

The initial climb was about 2,000 feet in 3 miles; not Appalachian Trail type steep, but steady and arduous as we switchbacked up the forested south slope of a spur. We rose above what was the snow level on the north slopes across the valley, but snow was absent from the slope we ascended while the forest sheltered us from the cold rain that settled in for the afternoon.

With a seven day stretch ahead of us our packs were pretty heavy at the start, particularly by today’s standards. Ken’s and mine were in the sixties; Dan’s was near sixty as he was carrying a tent; Howie’s was in the fifties. Halfway up the initial forested climb Dan’s packed became too much for him to keep up or to tolerate. The other tenderfoot Howie valiantly took his tent from him. By the time we cleared the spur and the forest several unpleasant things happened.

We were now exposed to the ferocity of the storm, which became more sleet than rain at that elevation. We were still on a south slope, still absent of snow but traversing west directly into the driving sleet that slapped our faces as if challenging us to a duel. Ken May have been very seventies with the weight of his pack, but he was ahead of his time in that he wore sneakers for the entire journey, including over the snow. Once we were exposed to the elements he started flirting with hypothermia. His solution was to race off ahead then huddle in a sheltered spot eating M&Ms until the rest of us caught up, when he would take off again.

The exposed south slope in different conditions

He had to wait awhile for us to catch up. Coinciding with reaching the exposed traverse Howie now found the weight of his pack too much. Dan started looking almost perky next to him. I took Dan’s tent from Howie, now carrying both, with my pack weight around seventy and theirs in the fifties.

Even with that weight disparity the two tenderfoots could not keep up. They insisted I take the lead, feeling that my pull would work better than pushing from behind. I walked as slowly as possible, only to turn around and find them falling behind. I started counting between steps to slow myself down further: (step), one-thousand, (step), two-thousand. I got myself in a comfortable rhythm and forgot to turn around for awhile. When I finally did Dan and Howie were about a hundred yards behind, yet they had not the energy to call out and stop me. I don’t think I’ve ever seen two more pitiful looking hikers since.

Certainly not on this day. High heat or not all the thru-hikers ascending from Sierra City had been on the trail for a thousand miles already. For them the heated climb was merely a mild annoyance.

On the first day out, spent entirely in the snow in below freezing weather, I had my doubts about completing the PCT. On that third day I had no doubts. I saw overwhelming fatigue in the faces of Dan and Howie, but I saw no quit in them. Near the top of the ascent we rounded onto a west, then north facing slope again. We were back in the snow again but sheltered more from the storm, which was abating as evening approached regardless.

The whole day became worth the effort. As Howie and I lay snuggled in our tents on top of the snow, staring quietly up in exhaustion, Howie broke the silence with a very heartfelt declaration: “Kirk, I never would have made it without you.”

As it was to soon turn out, everyone would in fact make the next several days without me, but that’s another story.