I’ve never had the experience of seeing Christmas lights being hung in town along a major trail, let along any trail, and let me tell you, it is a surreal moment. Even shitty, run down Seiad had lights aglow around the general store. Something always feels out of place when we see holiday decorations. The reality is I’m not sure if its the lights or us, but the notion that the world keeps spinning while we are out on trail rings true.

    Trauma an I have been enjoying a much needed break from the trail to spend time with family and loved ones over the holidays. I spent a 40hr marathon of travel to arrive in time back to Pennsylvania, complete with an All-Star cast of Greyhound superstars, flight delays and a red-eye out of Reno. The Christmas break has been a milestone in our minds and a huge mental check mark towards progress. We pushed hard to the town of Burney, mile 1250, which necessitated many nights donning the headlamp post dusk. Our last day on trail was rather befitting as it marked the winter solstice, the official kick start to winter. The irony that winter hasn’t started until Dec 21st is beyond words.

    Taking extended breaks from the trail is both joyous and regrettable. Endless food to devour, feet without shoes for days and a venue to socialize with family; but muscles tighten, momentum slows and the hurdle of re-entry to the trail steepens. My cousin coyly asked if coming home for the holidays was cheating? That is a sure fire way to light a fire under my ass for phase II of this project. No one puts baby in the corner. I’m feeling rested, 5lbs heavier and eager to start melting miles.

    So yes, we are almost at the halfway point of the trail. With the passing of each day my personal percentage of success incrementally increases. Currently I’m hovering around 42%. Ticking off the Cascades was a huge boost in confidence, albeit we technically still have Mt Lassen to pass but as the lowest and least visited of the volcanos, its nothing more than a blip on the map at this point.

    As eluded to in my last post, the trail is a fickle thing in the winter. This last section of trail proved this theorem. At any moment, around any bend, there could be something that shuts down the trip for good. As we arrived in Ashland with a streak of nearly 60 snow free miles and quasi fair weather, we left with the headline of ‘Storm of the Century’ to ponder and prepare for. That’s how the trail works in the winter. It knows when you are entering a lower and likely snow free section of trail. Progress will be easy, so how can it f$^@ with you? Step 1 is overly-hype a storm that will bring 5-8” of rain and hurricane level ridgetop gusts. Step 2 is to not heed the warning of the infamous Seiad dryer. Step 3 is to conveniently forget to mention that the burn area south of Seiad took out 2 out of 3 of the major bridges across the swollen Drigger Creek from said overly-hyped storm. Step 4 is to drastically under-predict storms in order to crush all hope. That’s the mental fuck the winter has in store for you every moment of every day.

    The reality to all of those ingredients is that, yes, the ‘Storm of the Century’ did bring a lot of rain and strong winds, but nothing like they were predicting, at least where we were at the time. It felt like just another day of shitty weather. We saw maybe 3-5” of rain and gusts up to 30-40mph where we were. Kid stuff at this point. The Seiad dryer was probably the worst of it. We were graciously warned that the dryer in town is prone to overheating and has a long track record of fully melting sleeping bags and any other expensive trail essentials. Being wet for days on end does something to your judgement. It tells you that ‘this won’t happen to me. I’m just going to pop my stuff in for a few minutes and all will be well’. Even despite setting the dryer to its lowest setting and literally sitting in front of it to watch, it turned my tyvek groundsheet into something resembling Monsanto modified cauliflower, shrunk my insoles to the size befit for my 3yr old niece to wear and melted the seamtape on my rain jacket, giving it a nice scrunchy 80’s look. Perfect, just perfect.

    The recent burn area south of Seiad was actually quite pleasant. The air had an interesting mix of flavors simply described as dirt and smoke. The landscape was conveniently turned into a palette of browns and charcoal, bringing an overly groomed presence to the trail tread. Not a single branch, stick or patch of overgrowth was present. Just perfectly tinted duff and unobstructed trail, sharply contrasted to the overgrown nature of willows and alders that are routinely present in that section. Its always interesting to retrace the path of the fire as you walk through a recent burn area. Which trees were spared and why? Which ridges were jumped and why? Which bridges were burned and holy shit how are we going to cross this? Trail conditions update for next year’s prospective hikers, the upper 2 bridges over Drigger Creek are no longer. The middle bridge burned and collapsed literally in half and is crossable by some aggressive and limber stemming. The upper bridge is totally gone, not even a trace of its existence. For the record, the slender downed tree just up stream from the former bridge is a poor life choice as well, as Trauma and I quickly found out at 7am in the morning. As I watched Trauma slip off and go for an icy swim the only reaction I could muster was, “Do I even have a chance?”. The answer is always, emphatically, no.

    The Marble Mountains and Trinity Alps were much more scenic than I remember. Definitely a highlight to the section. As we left Etna Summit, forecasts were predicting moderate storms over the next several days, amounting to 1-3” each day. By the end of day 4 we found ourselves rounding the crest of Mumbo Basin with snow up to mid-thigh. Heavy and wet, such that your snowshoes become 10lb training weights a piece. Lesson from the trail: carbon fiber poles make poor choices to clear any progress restricting globs of snow from your snowshoes. After snapping 3 pole sections during the course of the day, I later found myself clamoring up a tree to retrieve the final straw and the remains of my trekking poles; tossed in a hoarse burst of expletives and frustration. A finer moment, indeed.

    As we look ahead, we have what looks to be one of our first true weather windows since beginning the trip. A week of cold crisp sun is in order, on par with what we were hoping for by the time we got into Cali. Praise the glorious high pressure gods January is known for. We have about 250mi to cover before crossing into the Tahoe basin and the I-80 corridor. We may be nearly halfway done, but the hardest section(s) still lay ahead. This time of year usually brings the coldest temps in the Sierra and the beginning of the BIG storms. We are feeling confident with our projected progress through these last Nor-Cal miles. Most of our time will be spent planning for the next major hurdle, that being our definitive plan through the High Sierra. Chester and the official halfway point are poised for the New Year’s celebration. See you all in 2015. I already have a few resolutions and wishes in order.

As always, the latest batch of photos can be viewed by clicking this link.