Day 152, Etna to South Fork Scott River

When we arrived at the trailhead, there were two places Molly could have dropped us off. From the first one, the trail went over a hill before passing near the second one.

Molly asked Bluejay and me which spot we wanted to start from. We told her the first one because we didn't want to skip any part of the trail.

She then asked if we would mind if she drove ahead to the other spot and watch us as we crossed the hill. We were happy to oblige.

The trailhead was at a spot called Etna Summit, at an elevation of nearly 6,000 feet. The chilly air there was made even colder by a strong wind.

After walking over the hill and waving to Molly, we started a long climb. The trail went up more than 1,300 feet in the first three miles.

Near the top of the climb, the trail crossed an open space looking east. Immediately below me was Smith Lake. Across several valleys and ridges stood Mt. Shasta. It was about 40 miles away.

I could see the main highway into Etna and guessed cell service was available here. When that turned out to be true, I stopped to call Kim. We discussed plans for when she would meet me in Truckee after I finished the trail.

This climb wasn't as steep, nor as high, as the first one. This time, the trail entered a large section of burnt trees.

The Whites Fire happened in 2014 and burned 33,753 acres. It was started by lightning and soon forced authorities to close the PCT.

The fire burned and spread for more than a month before it was contained. The cost of $48.2 million to put out the fire included the use of 60,000 gallons of a new fire retardant gel.

I caught up to Bluejay where she had stopped for lunch at the top of the climb. Three weekend hikers were also there.

Then after lunch, the trail followed a ridge called the Salmon Mountains, which was also one side of a glacial valley. The headwaters of the Salmon River started at the bottom of this valley.

About halfway along the ridge, the trail passed by Russian Peak. Standing at 8,190 feet, this was the highest mountain in the wilderness.

By now, the sky had cleared but the temperature hadn't risen as much as I expected. The sky was bright, and there were no trees to provide shade, except for burnt remnants of the 2014 fire.

Researchers have documented 18 different species of conifer trees in a single square mile on the other side of this ridge.

I reached the end of the valley at 3 p.m. From there, the trail climbed out of the cirque to the top of the ridge and exited Russian Wilderness. Before long, though, it would be entering another wilderness area, Trinity Alps Wilderness.

Now that the sky was clear, the snow-covered peak of Mt. Shasta stood alone like a bright beacon in the distance. From the top of the ridge, it was still about 40 miles away to the east.

The trail was still going in a southerly direction. In about two more miles, however, the trail would turn to go roughly southeast. Tomorrow it will turn northeast to go for a long stretch in the direction of Mt. Shasta.

When the sun began to sink below the ridge, the temperature dropped. I stopped to put on an extra layer of clothing. I chose my lightweight thermal shirt to help regulate my temperature without overheating on the more strenuous parts of the trail.

Just before entering Trinity Alps, I met a day hiker. She told me she was trying to piece together the whole PCT in sections. She's been doing this since 2013.

Because she lived in Northern California, I asked her what the weather was like in late October. I wondered if it remains snow-free most years. She said it did and thought my chances were good for making it all the way to Truckee before winter weather arrived.

Later, I met a northbound thru-hiker, but he didn’t want to spend any time talking. If I were heading in his direction, with a greater chance of snow, I suppose I wouldn't want to waste time with conversation either.

I arrived where Bluejay was camped near the South Fork of Scott River at 6:15 p.m. Unlike the last couple of nights on the trail, I got into camp this time well before dark.

Looking back on the day, I had to laugh when I recalled our ride to the trailhead with Molly. I felt lucky to have survived the ride, but also lucky to have met her.