The Tragedy at Etna

It's been a few weeks since I've written. Much has happened and my life on the trail took a unexpected turn. Even though I am no longer on the trail, there are a few things that i want to share with you. There are still untold stories from my travels on the PCT that I need to to be told.

In early August, I made my way through the Russian Wilderness and the Trinity Alps. I walked miles along exposed ridges with soaring Osprey and bald eagles. The weather was pleasant and the cold springs lovely bubbled out of the earth. The elevation changes were minimal. I was feeling fantastic as each day provided new ways of learning. Nature's cathedral brought upon a level of spirituality that was new to me and I accepted it. I hiked with a wonderful pack of hikers. We often camped in the same sites and shared mornings of coffee and breakfast before the day started. I felt at peace in Northern California as the Oregon border loomed ever closer, a serious accomplishment. 

I felt stronger than ever. I pushed my barriers as I finished three consecutive 30 mile days. The town of Etna, CA, my next resupply stop was 40 miles away and I was gearing up to complete 120 miles in 4 days. My body needs at least 4 miles to fully warm up. My knees, ankles, shoulders, hips, calves, and heart rate all need proper time to warm, to work efficiently. I love it when I could feel each part of my body reach an optimal level for long days of hiking. But this day was different.
Instead of getting stronger and more fluid, a deep displeasure woke in my right shin. I have had hundreds of body aches that came and went on the trail, but nothing ever persisted more than a few minutes, maybe an hour at the most. This pain wasn't going anywhere and deep down in my heart, I had to consider many unpleasant outcomes things. Thoughts raced through my head regarding the possibility of having to leave the trail, and it made me nervous, real nervous. 

The strength of a through hiker comes in his/her ability to adapt and react to all situations. 

My shin got worse, and I still had 40 miles to get into town, this was not good news. I took an anti inflammatory as the pain only got worse. It was getting dark, and I needed to make a call on where I would sleep, but in a bizarre twist, there was not one feasible camp site around. Pain was shooting down my leg more than ever and it was getting dark. I didn't want to sleep directly on the trail but I was persistent and found a tiny tiny tiny flat spot, just long enough for me to cowboy camp under with some tree cover, on the side of a cliff. As I dozed off into the night, I dreamed many dreams and occasionally awoke to watch my friends, the galaxies above shine and remind me how lucky I was to be out in this world, and not another. 

As pleasant as my sleep was, I awoke with my olfactory senses first. The word "smokey" comes to mind first. I looked out from my perch along the mountains ridge and saw slippery gray fingers creeping around the mountains. Forest fires were near. Without panicking knowing that I was only a days journey from Etna, I began to walk. The pain in my shin immediately came back with a fury, but since I started hiking early, I would be able to make decent time even if I was going slower. The smoke drew nearer and nearer and blotted out all of the beautiful views. I limped all day, aggravating my injury, watching the smoke get thicker and thicker. Airplanes for the fire service roared over head; the first external entity I had seen in a few days.

A few miles before I reached the road, I met a German man who saw my dirty feet after I took my shoes off and told me "your felt look like dey belong to negroes". I gazed silently at him and muttered some nervous response back to him. I didn't want to act too offended because I realized he was my ride into town. He drove me in his new Subaru down to tiny town of Etna. I was so relieved to be in a car as I stunk to high heaven and had a raging case of hiker hunger. 

I finally made it to Alderbrooke Manor which belonged to an old sweet Russian lady. The manor was a Victorian bed and breakfast and the hikers had their own "hiker hut" which was equipped with showers, laundry machines, beds, and if you wanted to camp in the beautiful lawn which was shaded by sixty foot oak trees. I set up my tent and rested in the hammock for an hour before I rode a bicycle down to Rays Food Place and purchased an entire rotisserie chicken which I equipped with a liter of chocolate milk and Maui onion chips. It was a complete meal, which I devoured, wiping off the chicken grease out of my beard.

An enormous quantity of hikers arrived in the smoke veiled afternoon, the largest we had seen in weeks. For hikers, a gathering of 20-40 is an assembly, which involves story telling, laughter, and beer. Hikers look after each other, as our attitudes are unique and equipped with positivity and hope. 

The entire lawn was covered in tents, a lovely scene to my eyes. 

As the evening transitioned into night, I had trouble sleeping. I stared up at my tent ceiling for hours. My shin splints were bad but that couldn't have been the source of my restlessness?

 It was midnight when my guts began to yell out with what I like to call "apocalyptic gas". I just farted for hours. Literally, every five minutes, for three hours. So much that I couldn't sleep at all. It was 3am before my eyes finally began to shut down when one more time I was ripped out of my sleep and had to sprint out of my tent to the nearest bathroom. I barely made it...out of the tent, meaning I didnt make it to the bathroom. I ran to the nearest and darkest corner, and barely avoided shitting my pants. I stumbled in the dark back to my tent by 3:30 and could finally rest. The night however, was far from over. 

Now things get a little more serious...

I remember reading The Lord of the Rings: Two Towers as a kid and there is a line where Legolas looks up at the evening sky and states "blood was shed on this night". It's a very uneasy feeling to experience, but I knew something deeply wrong in the cozy, one street town of Etna, CA. 

The smell of dew on alfalfa and cattle filled the air. It was 4:30am. The first thing I heard was the shrieking of horses and the cries of stressed cattle. "How rude" I thought to myself as I had only slept an hour at that point. My eyes felt bloodshot and wished that the loudness would stop. Then the shouting of cowboys trying to calm the beasts of burden. The hikers began to stir, trying to assess the situation like searching for the light switch in the dark. "EVERYBODY WAKE THE FUCK UP, THERES A FIRE!" yelled hiker Acid Glasses. Zero to sixty in one second my brain went. I jumped out of my tent and saw a red glow.

My heart began to race once I could see the flames. Adrenaline coursed through me as I tried to figure out whether the entire mountain was on fire or just this place. The flames grew in size, it seemed every second. My hands trembled with the most fear I've experienced in my life. I remember how hard my hands were shaking as I attempted to pack up my tent and all of my belongings, all that I needed in life. Amongst all the fear, a tremendous sense of pride overwhelmed me as I saw my fellow hikers all packing up under two minutes! By the time I stuffed everything in my backpack, we concluded that it was a house fire, and the entire  town was not ablaze. I was able to finish packing my bag with a steady hand. I ran out onto the street and began to feel the heat from the flames coat my body. Other hikers approached the flames as we all stared in horror as the ancient Victorian become less and less recognizable. Fire trucks zoomed down the street as neighbors wiped the sleep from their eyes as they emerged from their nearby. There was a father and his two kids, all crying as they sat on the curb across the street. I guessed they were the tenants of the house, watching as all of their possessions turned to smoke and gas. My head suddenly jerked towards the house as two enormous booms shook the sky as the nearest car exploded, sending chunks of metal flying into the air. This caused major panic amongst the townspeople sending them stampeding down the street like scared wildebeest running from a pack of lions. I had to dodge it in order to not be run over. The second boom resulted from the combustion of the water heater. I turned my head away to avoid the sudden crescendo of heat as the entire 3rd floor imploded on itself, sending plumes of dust and smoke into the air. I had had enough, and decided to retreat a little further away.

Just as the first light of day set the backdrop for the crumbling home, rumors begun to waft with the smoke that someone was actually inside the house as it burned down and hadn't emerged. Someone was burned alive as we watched the fire with weary amusement. Apparently one of the tenants had run into the house looking for his cat. As I learned this fact, I stared in horror, imaging what it must be like to be inside the house as the heat bothered my skin just from the other side of the street. "Blood was shed on this night".

Large chunks of bark fell from the ancient oak trees and the fire phased to small embers and eventually just a large smoldering pile. Firefighters searched for at this point would be a pile of bones, or probably less. A hiker named Razor broke the silence with a call for coffee and breakfast. A group of hikers silently nodded in agreement and headed over to the most suitable cafe. Firefighters, hikers , and locals all walked together without smiles nor frowns, just silence. We sat at the restaurant table and drank our coffee. The time was 6 am. Conversations started up again. Acid Glasses (awesome hiker name) looked up and found just the right moment to speak up. "Hey everyone, can we just go around the table and say what we are grateful for?" I have never been a person who would immediately try to contribute such a thing but I felt like i HAD to be part of this. I silently awaited my turn as other hikers mentioned their health, that they were alive and had not burned like that poor fellow earlier that morning. Some mentioned that they were happy to be on the trail and not in an office/cubicle. The general consensus though, was that we all had each other. That was the most important thing of all for me. To be with your fellow hikers in this time of need is unique. Its the family you may never have had.