DAY 1 (105 TOTAL)
SOBO Mile 880.9 (Highway 140) to Twin Ponds Trail Junction (SOBO Miles 872.8), 8.1 PCT Miles (17 for the day)
1,670.5 Total PCT Miles
Since 2019, the PCT miles I’ve hiked have come in all ways, shapes, and forms. There was the one-way ticket to SoCal to complete a big chunk of the Sierra, and miles gathered furiously during a 32 mile mega day hike with friends I’d convinced to come along for the “fun”. There’s been weeklong solo adventures in Oregon. Multiple days on trail with my husband in Washington. Quick trips squeezed in over weekends.
And then there’s been this. The quest for eight miles. Six hours round trip of driving for an out-and-back adventure to where I recently exited on my last two day trip. Rather than hiking, I’m mostly trail running, and I’ll be back home to my own bed the same night. I don’t think I’ve backtracked a single mile on the PCT excluding the trip to tag the Canadian border in 2019 and begin again SOBO, but it’s a necessary sacrifice in this case.
Whatever it takes to get a few more miles, right?
I’m up and out of town early for the solo drive down to Highway 140 in Southern Oregon. It goes quickly, scenery blurring from the high desert scrub of Central Oregon to the lush cow-filled pastures and broad expanse of Mt. McLoughlin as I head west from Klamath.
I arrive to an empty parking lot and blue sky. Late summer in Oregon is often consumed by smoky, fire-filled days, and it’s the fear of those which spurs me to be here now. It turns out I’ve chosen well. Good temps, clear air, bug-free, quiet trail? Yes, yes, yes, and yes. The plan is simple:
- Trail run when possible (the elevation profile looks chill but still).
- Hike when I feel like it.
- No suffering, only fun.
- Tag the intersection where we exited for Fourmile Lake.
- Return to the car.
^^ My little forest turtle.
The trail begins by winding up and through a heavily wooded area. With the day growing hot quickly, I’m content to be here in the shade of the forest. Time passes quickly, too, because it’s just me in the woods on gentle trail. No other hikers, no other views but the trees.
As I approach 2-3 miles from the junction, the blowdowns reappear much like they did on the last section. Thankfully, with only 17 miles total today I know they won’t last long, and I’m going light with just a running vest so vaulting myself over blowdowns is that much easier. Before I even have time to get annoyed (ok fine maybe I still got a tiny bit annoyed), I pop out at the junction. It’s a little anticlimactic, being here at this sign. It’s meaningful to me, because I’ve now connected a line of trail, but otherwise it’s just a blown off tree stump holding a fading sign.
That’s when I decide: I need something better before I turn around. Something…a ~tad~ more celebratory. (Respectfully, to this dry, exposed four-way crossing). And so, because every side quest needs a side quest of its own, I make a last minute decision to head over to Swan Lake which sits about .4 miles down the Fourmile Lake junction trail.
The trail is dusty, small puffs swirling around my ankles as I head towards the water. But. No bugs (still), no people (still), just me and the trail and the wonder of moving my body outside and the gratitude for living close enough (relatively speaking) to just ~pop on down~ to grab a few more PCT miles on a random weekday.
The lake is refreshing. Revitalizing. I stand dripping on its shores, listening to the breeze through the forest and the lapping of water before me. I don’t want the moment to end. Ahead of me, though, lies the descent and subsequent 3 hour drive home. Back on go the socks, the shoes, the running vest. It’s officially hot out now, and I cover the ground back to the dry four-way intersection quickly, eager to get back to some shade.
Then, turning away from the junction with one last look over my shoulder, I begin back to the car. It’s slow going as I head again through the blowdowns – the worst part of this being an out and back. There’s a bit of climbing on the return, and I take in my final view of Mt. McLoughlin before disappearing back into the woods once more.
Then, there is only flow; trail meandering downhill but only just gently enough to pick up speed, not hurt the knees.
I come across a couple of backpackers, but otherwise the trail remains still and quiet except for the occasional little cheer from me (to me) as the miles slip past.
Before long, I’m back at the car, emerging out of the trees into the bright sun of the parking lot. Dirt is shaken from my shoes and cotton thrown on; snacks pulled out and water bottles refilled. The quest for eight miles is over so quickly, but it’s only a matter of time before I’m back. The miles are starting to fill in – 982.6 await me (at last, less than 1,000)!