We had not intended to stay in Foresthills. Instead, we packed with the intention to meet Ky four days later, on the other side of the Sierra Nevada. As we reached the outskirts of town we encountered Mary in her yard, who hailed us over for a chat. She marveled at an older couple hiking together wearing full backpacks and lamented never yet having with anyone the kind of relationship we had. We went no further than Mary’s yard that evening.
The next morning she drove us to the ranger station in town, where we learned about the 15-40 foot snowpack in the Sierra Nevada on June 14. Hiking on top of spring snow presents only a mild obstacle. Hike too early in the day and the snow is icy; hike too late and the snow is mushy; a little inconvenient but not a big deal. The problem with large snowpacks are the large snowbridges that one might fall through. We eventually caught up to an ADT hiker who reported falling through a 12 foot snowbridge, passing through a week earlier than us. That was not a chance I could take with Cindy.
Assisted by the rangers and their maps, I first devised Plan A and B to avoid the heavy snowpack. Unfortunately, this meant crossing the American River, now raging from the snowmelt. That led to Plan C, then Plan D, which we intended to follow when we left Foresthills. One day out of Foresthills, beginning the fourth week of our hike, I needed to devise a Plan E..
Plan E brought us on a trail to cross the raging American River over a sturdy bridge, after which the trail ascended steeply for over a thousand feet. Clouds of mosquitoes fueled by the spring snowmelt shortened our one break to catch our breath. We were now headed northwest, north of I-80 even, away from our eventual destination and adding miles. Yet a combination of trails, obscure roads, railbeds, power lines and cross country work kept the snow we faced to a minimum.
At one point during our cross country work we came to the intersection of a rocky crag with I-80. We could struggle over the crag or cross the guardrail onto I-80 and run like hell for about 50 yards. We chose the latter. Later that day we came to the road that would bring us south of I-80 again and on to Donner Pass.
We stopped at a Forest Service campground our last night of the four-day stretch. The campground was still closed for the season and we had an inclination to move on, but a sudden cloudburst found us scrambling to throw a ground cloth over ourselves and gear. When the storm ended we decided to “make camp” in the concrete entrance way for an outhouse.
The whole four day stretch, with its maverick route finding and unconventional camps, hearkened us back to our Continental Divide Trail journey. Forty percent of that trail was unfinished when our group thru-hiked it in 1985 with Cindy becoming the first woman to do so. Our group recommended to the Continental Divide Trail Society that existed at the time to never finish the trail, to preserve the pioneering element of such a journey. Those were the good ol’ days!
My foot felt better due to the shorter mileage days, but our support person Ky had a physical mishap while we were day packing towards Lake Tahoe. While pursuing her hobby of geocaching a pointed stick got the better of her shin. She came to meet us and have us treat her.
Ky declined to seek a doctor’s help, as none of us had health insurance during the journey. Cindy’s specialty certification as a nurse was wound ostomy; a couple years ago she would have been an ideal choice, better than a doctor. The task fell upon me instead.
Mindful of everyone’s lack of health insurance, I aggressively cleaned out Ky’s deep puncture wound, using iodine in liberal qualities, while Ky stoically sat through the ordeal. She suspected I was having too much fun, but I just wanted to prevent infection, knowing as well the apprehension she felt from lacking health insurance. One month into the journey and even the support person experienced greater physical difficulties than Cindy.
A glorious day greeted our entry into Nevada, going up and over the Carson Range. Snow blanketed the top of the range, but not at the depth of the Sierra Nevada the week before. Instead, just enough snow provided glissading fun in forested areas, but mainly disappeared when the forests did. With only fourteen miles intended for the day this was shaping up to be the greatest day of hiking on the journey … until I made a navigational error.
We went three miles too far north near the crest before I concluded “this is not right.” I recharted a course to head cross country down to a FS road, from where I knew how to get back on track. In total we added about 5-6 miles to our “relaxing” day. Once we were on the FS road I cussed myself for my blunder and apologized profusely to Cindy for making our day so much longer. She interrupted me during my tirade to calmly say:
“I’m not worried. You’ll find the way. You always do.”
Cindy once used maps and compass to navigate the unfinished Continental Divide Trail on her own, though whenever we hiked together I navigated. One consequence of dementia is not being fully aware of one’s new limitations. Though Cindy no longer could navigate with map and compass, she likely was not aware of that. Her expression of complete trust was one of the nicest things she said to me … and a sign to me our journey alleviated her stress.
Neat story.
When I first heard of the PCT, maybe 1977, I resolved to hike it someday. Today is some day. I sit in Quincy, CA having started at I-80, Donner Summit.
I believe I am the only hiker stopping at snow banks to chill my water.
The rest are in a hurry to get to Canada.
Kudos to Cindy and the CDT hike.
The Wilderness Press books credit my friend, Jim Podlesni as being the first triple crowner. Jim tells me he believes that title belongs to a guy in Alaska.
Jim, trail name “J-Pod” (also the resident orca family in Puget Sound) believes he and his girlfriend were the first to do the TC as a couple.
1977 was when I thru-hiked the PCT. In the late eighties I attempted to find out who were the first Triole-Crowners. ALDHA West at the time was crediting its first completion as 1989, but I had completed it in 1985. According to what I could dig up Jim was indeed the first one, completing it in 1979. O’Dell, a Wilderness Press author, completed it in 1981. I was the third in 1985, when we thru-hiked the CDT. Cindy became the first woman to thru-hike the CDT on that same journey. Happy trails to your own journey!