CA Sections N, O, & P
As seems to happen often, I found myself behind the 8-ball coming out of Chester. I got a ride to the trail at 9 pm after a very nice gentleman proactively offered to take me, potentially worried about me as I sat on the sidewalk outside the grocery store defiling the carcass of a rotisserie chicken (the only hot meal available at that hour). After camping alone under a sea of widowmaker trees that night, I started towards Lassen Volcanic National Park, knowing I had to hike my longest day yet in order to catch up with my group and evade the park’s stringent food storage requirements. Along the way we were treated to a number of geological wonders showing active volcanic activity in and around Mt. Lassen. First was the Terminal Geiser and then Boiling Springs Lake. All the rocks around seemed porous and often the landscape seemed like it would be better suited for Mars, crazy considering it was often surrounded by tall green pines and firs.
The park itself was quiet on a relatively wet afternoon. Much of the flora has also been torched by fires in recent years which has led to a sharp decrease in visitation. Even with the scars evident, we were treated to serene views of Mt. Lassen towering above the neighboring open expanses. It also had the largest uprooted tree I have ever seen, Dylan included for scale.
The next days continued what was the first real stretch of rain and lightning we’ve received this trip. Somewhat complicated by the still having the rain jacket whose zipper broke on day one, kept intact by a single safety pin. But the clouds and rain kept us cooler than usual in this exposed area, and we got a brief reprieve in the Subway Cave, a natural lava tube formed less than 20,000 years ago when molten lava drained beneath a hardened crust.
The next few days had much easier terrain than normal, relatively flat and devoid of punishing rocks. Just as we passed Mt. Lassen (10,437’), we got our first views of Mt. Shasta (14,179’). Although we didn’t discuss it at the time, we all independently relayed what an unexpectedly spiritual experience it was to walk from one towering volcano to the other, Shasta becoming more prominent as Lassen faded into the distance.
Eventually we found our way into Burney, an old timber town that was seemingly frozen in time 60 years ago. There aren’t any signs of development since a decline in mill activity and the increase in wildfire concerns drove away those that could afford to leave. What remains is a rag-tag collection of hardened locals living in dilapidated housing and fixed trailers. Drug use is rampant, homelessness is clearly a problem, and yet there was something so alluring and authentic about this place that made it very enjoyable to visit. We spent our Tuesday morning at the bowling alley, and we were having so much fun playing 80s hits over the jukebox and seeing our scores improve that we stayed into the afternoon. The gregarious lane attendant who had whiskey on his breath from the moment we walked in and never let his cup go dry was “happy to see some new assholes in here for a change.” When I added some Prince to the queue, he proclaimed I’d gotten $5 off my bill, brining my total from $18 to $13. We resisted the urge to stay an extra night in the church gymnasium that they’d set up for hikers and instead left that evening.
Our first stop was Burney Falls a 129-foot tall, 100-foot-wide waterfall that gushes more than 100 million gallons of water per day from spring-fed underground volcanic aquifers. After spending the night, we continued to enjoy beautiful water views through both Klamath and Shasta–Trinity National Forests, a highlight was camping along the waters of Deadfall Lake, where the sun set just beyond the trees perfectly framed by the mountains on each side.
As we grew closer to Etna we began to see and then feel the effects of the Big Cliff Fire, burning less than 2 miles from the trail and closing it from miles 1,581 to 1,601. The fire resulted from one of the lightning storms we had endured days earlier and was a deflating development as we thought we were going to get through this often fire-closed section unscathed. Even still, we were extremely lucky because as we approached the final section before the closure a westward wind reduced the AQI from 300 to under 50 and allowed for safe passage. Once we reached the closure itself, we turned down a forest service road, N95s in waiting, and camped, ready for a hybrid dirt and paved road walk into town the next day.
As we descended into the Scott Valley we passed by the JH Guest Ranch, a 1,200-acre property that effectively serves as a luxury wilderness summer camp. After so much time in the rugged it was off-putting to see so much manicured grass and so many clean-shaven people, but the staff and volunteers were extremely kind to us. They gave us great tips for our stay in Etna as well as a tour of their facilities. We left and ran into a number of blackberry bushes and peeked into the neighbor’s barns before finishing the final few miles along Highway 3.
Now, we’re resupplied and all ready to walk back along the road to where the trail reopens with just 100 miles left until the Oregon border!
By the numbers
The Om-Nom-Nom Series
On day one I unexpectedly interrupted a squirrel’s lunch break. He stopped and stared deep into my eyes, showing his displeasure at my having broken his concentration in that intimate moment. Since then, I’ve shown my support for animals as they eat by cheering them on with a hearty “om-nom-nom.” It’s a practice that some other hikers have since adopted and can even extend to humans. I’ve collated a selection of my favorites below, happy eating!
Hiker Profile
Madison “Peg Leg” Blagden, 28, is originally from Eastern Massachusetts, equidistant from Boston and Cape Cod. Her first thru hike was half of the PCT in 2017, in between semesters in college. After school, she worked odd service jobs while living out of her truck until deciding to do the entire trail in 2022. This reignited her love for the lifestyle and she’s barely left trail since. The following year she completed the Eastern Continental Trail, a 4,400-mile hike starting in Key West that follows the Florida, Appalachian, and International Appalachian Trails, ending in Newfoundland, Canada. As she reached the terminus she said to herself “well I could have gone farther if there’d been more trail.”
That sparked the idea of completing the border-to-border calendar year triple crown, often shortened to the simple acronym, B2BCYTC. It’s a feat that’s only been done once before (in 2022), it combines the three longest thru hikes in the United States: The Pacific Crest, Continental Divide, and Appalachian Trails, for more than 8,000 miles to be completed consecutively in a calendar year. In preparation she completed the final leg of the triple crown, the Continental Divide Trail, in 2024. On January 1 of this year, she left Key West, setting a pace of 30 miles per day minimum with no days of rest planned for 2025.
I’d first heard about her attempt all the way back in week one, but figured she’d be well past before I’d get to see her. So, I didn’t think anything of it as I passed a disheveled hiker atop a climb in Lassen National Park. She stopped me in my tracks to ask my name, saying she hadn’t expected to see any hikers that day, clearly craving some social interaction.
At first she didn’t share her name, both of us enthralled in conversation from the start. I told her about getting stalked by a cougar the night before on my 3 mile hike out of town and she casually dropped that shed actually started back at that road this morning, meaning she was going to be do at least 35 miles that day to get out of the park restrictions.
At that point I made a point of getting her name and it all clicked. The conversation quickly turned into a fast-walking interview, where I was reserved to sticking with her for as long as I could.
Space: What’s been your favorite trail and why?
Leg: The PCT is probably my favorite. It was my first trail, so it has a special place but there’s just something about the people and the grandeur of the scenery that makes it so pleasant. Plus, while the remote nature of the trail makes logistics more difficult, the terrain itself is a little bit easier than the Appalachian Trail.
Space: What’s the most mileage you’ve done in a day?
Leg: That depends on what you consider to be a day. If it’s just a 24 hour period, I’ve done some 55 and 60s but on the CDT we hiked between two towns 120 miles apart without stopping. It took us 48 hours, I didn’t let myself sit for more than 30 minutes because I was afraid I’d fall asleep.
Space: What’s the most dangerous thing that’s happened to you on trail?
Leg: We got caught in an overnight flash flood on the CDT last year. It had been raining for 48 hours straight in the desert, and it just came out of nowhere. I woke everyone up and we gathered all of our things as quickly as we could, but even still we were completely soaked through, so we just hiked the 86 miles next town straight away.
At this point a second stranger passing southbound recognized Peg Leg and stopped to ask her for a picture. At that point, I really started to appreciate the legend I was hiking with.
Space: Why do all this hiking? What motivates you?
Leg: I mean, I just love the community. I love the lifestyle. I love the opportunity to be challenged by what I do, but simultaneously, to be surrounded by an incredibly supportive group of other hikers. The physical toll it takes is worth it.
Space: You wrote in your initial blog that you were expecting to be quite lonely this year, has that ended up being the case? And what impact has it had on your experience?
Leg: To some extent, I got really lucky. At the last second another guy decided to do the B2BCYTC so we hiked together pretty much from Key West all the way to the beginning of the AT, which would’ve proved the loneliest otherwise. But there’s no question, if I start the day with somebody, I almost never finish with them because we’re going at least 35, you know? So sometimes I get people for the last 12 of the day and it’s nice to get to know them in passing but I’m definitely missing the deeper relationships I’ve made on previous trails.
Space: You clearly have a pretty robust social media presence and some sponsorships that are predicated on it, what’s managing that been like? You’ve got this new fame, the pressure of the hike itself, but also the task of keeping everybody on the outside happy with the content you’re putting out, it must be difficult.
Leg: I don’t really see it as much of a chore, at least I didn’t early on. My sponsors are really great, and I was able to manage pretty well up until this month. But then I didn’t have service for two weeks so I fell behind and it’s starting to feel a little bit more like a job. It does give me something to do, like I said, I’m not around a lot of people and so in the downtime I do have I can make content.
The conversation rolled on like this for hours until we arrived at camp just before 9. I pretty much collapsed into my tent after 36 miles, my longest day thus far. Peg Leg seemed just fine, having completed 39 without issue. We invited her to eat dinner with us but disciplined and knowing it’s in her best interest to recover horizontally, she turned in shortly thereafter. I made sure to go over and thank her for hiking with us and remind her that’s she’s a badass, surely something she already knew. She said it was great hanging with us too and we wished each other luck. By the time I got up the next morning, she was long gone, never to be seen again. We were just three of hundreds of hikers who were giddy at the prospect at being a small part of her journey and is now the ultimate name drop I can use around hiking nerds. If successful, she will be the second person and first woman to complete the B2BCYTC, placing her amongst the most decorated thru hikers of all time.
You can follow her journey either via her blog on The Trek or Instagram. You can read her journal entry from our walk together here.
(No) Shower Thoughts
Redefining Masculinity
Over the past 100 years it seems like what it means to be a man has changed dramatically. Gone are the days of glorified toxic masculinity, where financially providing served as justification for a bad attitude, excessive drinking, and unprovoked violence. Vocations have changed from mostly physical to those that require you sit still behind a screen for most of your waking hours. So not only the toxic, but so much of what men have used to define themselves for millennia has been turned on its head. Having gained self-confidence from providing for a family, being the patriarch and decision-maker, working with your hands and being completely self-sufficient have all but evaporated from modern privileged life. And now with the world rightfully operating on a more even playing field I see a generation of men in existential crisis.
For as long as I can remember, I’ve had my masculinity called into question by others. Hobbies and interests in art, fashion, theater, and dance fall into the feminine category for some, my voice is an octave or two too high for others, and my build slighter than what a “real” man should look like. I’d like to say that I’ve always been able to transcend these slights, discarding them as tactless transgressions, but the honest answer is they’ve always occupied space in my head. My most recent relationship wasn’t exactly the healthiest when it came to my masculinity either, as it was seemingly always called into question, intentionally or otherwise. All to say, I started this journey with old insecurities that had resurfaced and some new ones to boot.
In hindsight, my subconscious may have been responsible for pushing me towards a thru hike. What was more masculine than spending months in the woods, removing all modern conveniences from daily life? Not to say that through hiking is a solely masculine activity, there are still plenty of women out here who are feminine in their own right, but not showering, changing clothes, or doing laundry all week while eating canned foods and shooting the shit with the boys over a campfire is something our primal instincts generate toward.
But what’s been so encouraging is, although male dominated and masculine in nature, there is a cohesive sensitivity and what would have once been considered “femininity” in the way that people interact on trail. There’s none of the brute alpha bullshit that you might imagine accompanying unchecked testosterone but instead you find deference, kindness, and genuine care for others. Instead of being perceived as a sign of weakness, it’s reciprocated and the few bad apples tend to find themselves spending a lot of time alone. In the woods it feels like you can nurture your sensitive side in a way that’s encouraged and it doesn’t make you any less of a man.
I’m particularly grateful when I think about the group of men I’ve surrounded myself with. Both Dylan and Mo are extraordinarily kind, selfless, and thoughtful human beings. Mo may tower over you at 6’ 4”, barking orders with Germanic precision in his all-black hiking outfit, but he’s really a gentle giant with an infectious smile who's hesitant to harm so much as an ant. Dylan, a true gentleman who puts others before himself and shows incredible vulnerability in hopes of helping others. Each day we wake up chiseled & grizzled, primed to climb a mountain or two over the course of a marathon. And yet almost every night we talk about our challenges, open up about our feelings, and really communicate with one another. Often the conversation ends with a round of hugs as we head to bed.
I think this experience has helped remind me that your identity is whatever you make of it. That life no longer exists in binary codes of conduct that we all must adhere to. We’ve evolved as a species to realize that most everything operates on a spectrum. We’re all just a random collection of traits that make us unique and being distinct is something we should strive for, not be belittled because of.
So many men, particularly young men, are stuck in a rut. They’re struggling to reconcile a quickly evolving world with the examples set by their fathers and grandfathers and the polarizing opinions of society at large. I think it’s made for many lost souls, wasting away behind keyboards in the depths of their own pain. But I do have hope. I believe that on the whole, we’re moving towards a more tolerant and accepting society. One where the men of present and future will be defined by their productivity to society, whether in art or athletics, business or childcare, as well as their treatment of others, making the world a better place. Hopefully men are able to find the happiness that’s eluded us as we labored to maintain a facade of what we’re told to be. Even still, I’m sure we’ll remain as stubborn and proud as ever!
Much love always,
Connor
Bonus: Highlights From the Darkroom
One of the more difficult decisions I made to make pack weight was not to bring any cameras with me beyond my phone. Missing shooting film after the first month on trail I picked up a set of Fujifilm 35mm disposable cameras and took them through the Sierra. I just got back the first set of developed photos, from Walker Pass at mile 550 to Yosemite National Park at 943. Here are some of my favorites.
Useful Links
