I left Ashland in an Uber, traveling south back to the PCT trailhead just off the interstate. My friend Jason (trail name Left Foot) had told me about a lesser known alternate route leading to the Green Springs Inn, where he had eaten “the best burger on the trail”. Despite having just spent a day stuffing my face with french toast and burritos, I couldn’t resist the lure of seeking out this fabled burger (the promise of a free root beer float didn’t hurt either).
Unfortunately the location of the Inn was not included on my GPS map. Following some vague written directions Jason had pointed me to, I turned off the main PCT onto an overgrown track which lead downhill past the rusty shell of an abandoned car to a reservoir. Small purple bunches of Oregon grape lined the path. I picked a couple of the edible berries and put them in my mouth. The juice that exploded onto my tongue was almost too tart to bear, and I quickly drank some water to wash the sour fruit down.
I then crossed a dam, walking past a disconcerting “No Trespassing” sign before starting off on a scrubby dirt road next to a small aqueduct. The directions instructed me to cross the aqueduct on a concrete slab when I reached a cairn, but as I continued to walk and walk and passed concrete slab after concrete slab I began to grow concerned. I had the sneaking suspicion that I had missed the turn-off and gone too far. I knew there was a road to the north where the Inn was supposed to be, and so trusting my instincts (and to luck) I took the next little bridge over the slow moving water and proceeded to bushwhack through the forest. Soon a row of wooden cabins appeared ahead, and walking parallel to the buildings I reached the grassy backyard of the Inn. Covered in sweat and extremely relieved to have found my destination, I walked inside and ordered a gigantic burger. In that moment it was indeed the best burger I had eaten on the PCT.
Russell on the Road 