Tag: hitchhiking

Day 59: Saddle to Etna

Eager to get to the trail town of Etna (originally named “Rough and Ready”) in time for a hot lunch, I broke camp at dawn and hiked the 13 miles to the road at a quick pace. My stomach was rumbling by the time I caught up to Vick and Ronan at the trailhead. I had barely caught my breath before a truck drove by and I waved it down for a hitch, yelling goodbye to my friends as I ran after it.

The driver was a retired local firefighter heading back to Etna after visiting family on the other side of the ridge. His toddler grandson sat in the backseat, occasionally adding nonsensical comments to the conversation. He dropped me off in town at the Etna Hiker Hostel, where I booked a bed and enjoyed some care package brownies from a nice sobo couple (short for southbound, meaning hikers who start at the Canadian border and trek down to Mexico).

I made the short walk into the small downtown and got an extremely satisfying smoothie and giant burrito at the local coffeehouse, before proceeding to what appeared to be the local tavern for a drink. Once inside I felt like I had been instantly transported to a fancy cocktail bar in San Francisco, complete with house-distilled gin tasting room and a gourmet menu. Feeling very out of place with my ragged hiking clothes and unkempt facial hair, I was nonetheless welcomed by the friendly staff. I sampled a flight of the various types of gin which quickly made my head swim. I then ordered two large plates of food, eventually shambling back to the hostel full and content.

Day 48: Little Cub Spring to Chester

While on the PCT I got into the routine of staying a night in a motel about once every 10 days, so after checking the map I called ahead and booked a room at the Antlers Motel in Chester, a small town just south of Lassen National Park. I met up with Compass in the morning and we hiked toward the highway, talking about his experiences working for the Bureau of Land Management near Walker Pass where I had started my hike. We soon came across the marker designating the midway point of the PCT, exactly halfway between Mexico and Canada. Since I hadn’t started at the border it wasn’t very meaningful to me, but for Compass it meant he would now have less trail ahead than he had already hiked. I imagine knowing that fact would help a lot in the mental endeavor to complete the trail.

Chester lay too far down the highway to walk, so Compass and I set our bags down and stuck our thumbs out to try to catch a ride. Thus far on my journey I had only had to hitchhike once and was lucky enough to find a ride without even trying, but this time was more frustrating. Trucks, semis, family minivans, and sedans all zoomed by without a second look at the dirty and scraggly-looking hikers on the side of the road. We attempted calling some trail angels who had stapled their number to a log at the trailhead but they were unavailable. Hot, sweaty, and increasingly demoralized, we took turns at the road until eventually a suburban pulled up on the opposite side to drop some hikers off at the north trailhead. We quickly waved them down and gratefully hopped in, the driver depositing us outside Chester’s grocery store. I got a massive deli sandwich and soda, gulping it down with gusto in the air-conditioned coolness of the little eating area. I had learned a valuable lesson about hitching this day: patience is key.