June 26, 2020
- Start – Marlette Peak Campground (mile 66.3)
- End – Somewhere below Relay Peak (mile 87.3)
- Daily Mileage – 21 miles
I was feeling smoked last night after my 28-mile day, and worried that I might not get any rest with the boys running around playing “murder tree.” (See the end of yesterday’s post if you’re wondering what the heck I’m talking about.) Anyhow, the chaos finally ceased around 9 pm – and then it suddenly and unexpectedly started to rain!
This was the second time in three days that it had rained on me, despite the extended weather forecast saying it would be dry and sunny all week! Well, at least I was nice and snug in my dry tent when it started. And honestly, the rain only lasted about half an hour before it ceased. But, now I’m wondering what else might be in store for me weather-wise. I still have three more days before I resupply and can add my rain gear back to my pack.
It stayed pretty warm last night, and didn’t drop down into the 40s like it has the past two nights. So sometime around midnight, I woke up with my feet sweating inside my quilt. I was using my Enlightened Equipment Revelation quilt, which has a footbox that cinches down to give it the same shape as a sleeping bag. That means I have the option to open the bottom of the quilt to let in more air and regulate my body temperature. So, that’s exactly what I did! I opened the footbox and poked my feet out until I stopped sweating and could resume my sleep.
Unfortunately, once I’d woken up to deal with my sweaty feet, I realized I also needed to pee. When I emerged from my tent to attend to that urge, I looked up and saw the most beautiful night sky. The stars seemed so vivid and plentiful. I wasn’t sure whether it was the elevation or the lack of ambient city light pollution, but I was awestruck. The last time I noticed this many stars was while trekking up Mt. Kilimanjaro.
FIRST AID – PART I
I woke up at 5 am once again this morning, but decided to roll over and try to get another hour of sleep. I figured my body needed the extra rest and recuperation after yesterday.
When I eventually rose, I discovered I needed to break out my trusty first aid kit and do a little foot care before today’s miles. The sore spot that I felt on the bottom of my heel toward the end of Day 2 was now definitely a blister. But it wasn’t a friction blister that I could pop and drain. It was one of those deep-pressure blisters that seemed to go inward beneath the callused tissue at the bottom of my heel. The best I could do for it was add a layer of KT tape to cushion it and make myself more comfortable.
The only other thing I could do was change out my hiking socks. I’d worn the same pair of dirty Injinji toe socks for the past three days. It was time to swap to my second pair so I could rinse the original pair out and dry them at Ophir Creek later today. My fresh, clean socks felt tremendously better, and I was off and hiking in them by 7:10 am.
MORNING MUSINGS
I was able to depart the Marlette Peak campground with two full liters of fresh water, thanks to the stream I’d been pleasantly surprised by last night just up the trail. I figured it was better to be prepared and carry a little extra water, since the next reliable water source of the day wasn’t until Ophir Creek, which was a solid 12.5 miles in.
There were a fair number of mountain bikers sharing the trail as I made my way up beside Herlan Peak and up to another vista overlooking Marlette Lake. While I hiked in solitude, I found myself lost in thought several times, as I mused about where I might end up tonight. I’d made it 5 miles further than expected yesterday, so I was hoping to get to Galena Falls this evening
Earlier this morning, while I was eating breakfast, I read some comments on Guthook saying Galena Falls was a popular day-hiking spot because it’s only 2.5 miles up from the Mt. Rose Summit trailhead on Highway 431. So, the falls may not be an ideal place to camp for the night. I’m out here looking for tranquility, not a bunch of rowdy people trying to get the perfect selfie in front of a waterfall.
I’d also scrolled ahead to see what was further down the trail, but it didn’t look too promising. After the falls, the Tahoe Rim Trail would climb from 9,000′ elevation up to the highest point on the trail — Relay Peak at 10,330′. And, the comments about this stretch of trail said there was still a good bit of snow up by Relay Peak.
I wasn’t sure how much credence to give these crowdsourced comments though. After all, the most recent one was close to two weeks old. And I suspect the snow can diminish pretty rapidly this time of year. That stretch of trail up to Relay Peak might have been really sketchy a few weeks ago, yet there could be only patchy — or possibly even no — snow on it today. So I guess I’ll just have to wait and see where I end up this evening based on my pace and the trail conditions.
GUTHOOK
One of the things that’s surprised me during this hike has been the general lack of recent comments in the Guthook app this season. When I hiked the Appalachian Trail last year, I’d used Guthook to show me where the shelters, water sources, and towns were located. It had tons of crowdsourced information, like where seasonal water sources were flowing or dried up, whether there was bear activity in an area, etc.
There were so many thru-hikers on the AT regularly using Guthook that the comments were updated almost daily. This gave users a real-time picture of trail conditions, courtesy of the hikers ahead of them. Consequently, I came to rely on these crowdsourced comments. It was like having a scout on the battlefield out ahead of the troops to provide valuable intelligence.
Unfortunately, I’m noticing very few recent comments in Guthook for the TRT. Perhaps this is because it’s early in the season, so there are fewer hikers on this trail to add comments. Or perhaps, the Guthook app simply isn’t as popular on this particular trail, given its shorter length. So, I’ve decided I will do my best to contribute to the comments and add anything of value I think TRT hikers might really want to know — particularly when it comes to the status of seasonal water sources.
FIRST AID – Part II
As I hiked toward the junction with Tunnel Creek Road this morning, the trail was nice and gentle. I had more panoramic views of Lake Tahoe and its northern shore. Then I returned to the forest and descended toward Twin Lakes. These two small seasonal lakes tend to completely dry up in the late summer. But as I walked past them, I noticed the larger of the two ponds still had a decent amount of water available. I still had plenty of water to carry me to Ophir Creek, though, so I kept walking.
Just beyond Twin Lakes, I passed a sign near the junction of Tunnel Creek Road that would foreshadow the immense frustration I would feel for the rest of my morning. But I’ll return to that little nugget in a moment. First, I want to jump ahead to the incident that happened just north of Tunnel Creek.
I was walking in a nice, exposed area, enjoying the warm sun on my face, when I saw another female hiker approaching me. She had a super large, heavy-looking pack on, with a bear canister strapped to the top, and was walking with something in her hand. As I got within 20 feet of her, I used my usual tactic: catching her eye, saying hello, and asking if she was hiking the entire trail.
When I said these words, she looked down at her phone in her right hand and tried to pause whatever she was listening to. And at that exact moment, her right foot caught a root in the ground, and her ankle gave out. The poor girl went crashing down with all that weight on her back. Her phone went flying out of her hand and into the nearby bushes. Her right ankle was twisted underneath her, and her left knee took the brunt of the fall.
I immediately rushed over to help her back up, and I could see her knee was bleeding profusely in the sandy dirt trail. We got her moved off to the side of the trail, where I was able to squirt some water from my water bottle on her bloody knee, but it was gushing with blood, and the skin was really cut. Luckily, I still had some napkins from Subway in my pack’s hip pocket, and I immediately fished them out and had her hold pressure on her knee to try to staunch the bleeding.
While she did that, I recovered her phone from the bushes beside the trail, and I took off my pack to grab my first-aid kit. I calmly went into “mom mode” and kept her distracted by telling her I’d had a nearly identical fall on the AT in Maine when I was just 200 miles from the end of my journey. Lucky for me, there was a trail angel at the next road crossing, about 2 miles away, who helped me get cleaned up and bandaged so I could continue my thru-hike. But, I knew firsthand how a simple fall could be excruciating to both your body (and your ego).
My dialogue was able to keep us both pretty calm, despite the fact that she was really bleeding bad. After a little more washing with water and pressure on the wound, I found a giant bandage in my first aid kit and was able to get about 80% of her skinned up knee covered up.
I felt awful that my greeting might have been the impetus for her fall, but I knew, deep down, I didn’t actually cause it. Accidents happen on trail, and I’d just done a pretty darn good job of fixing her up — and reminding myself why I carry such a robust first-aid kit on trail. You never know when you might need to be a good Samaritan.
EVEN-NUMBERED DAYS
With the rush adrenaline coursing through my veins, I made sure the girl was ok and able to walk again. She was still a bit shaken, but was holding it together. I learned she was a local who lived up in Kings Beach, and was only planning to do a 3-day section hike. Today was day two of her trip, so she just needed to tough it out for one more day and then she’d be back home where she could take better care of her busted up knee.
After making sure she was ok and could put weight on her knee, I bid her goodbye and continue north on the trail while she headed south. And that’s when the real chaos of the day started…
You’ll remember that I saw a sign less than a mile prior to this incident. That sign advised me that the next 9.5 miles between Tunnel Creek and Tahoe Meadows was open to mountain bikers on even-numbered days. As I read the sign, I looked down at my watch and discovered – sure enough – today was June 26th. An even day of the month. But even more ominous was the blurb below the sign about conflicts among trail users.
At first, I wasn’t too worried about a little mountain bike traffic. I’d experienced that pretty much the entire trail – from the guy who came up behind me super early on the second morning to all the other users I’ve seen on the trail. There didn’t seem to be much conflict. Usually, I’d just step off the trail, and the rider would zip past. And although it was an even-numbered day, it was a Friday morning. Most people would be at work, right?
I’d soon learn that there was a very good reason for the warning. First, it was just a few riders. Then a few more. Then it seemed like I was stepping off the trail nearly every minute or two. For 9 friggin miles!!! I can’t be 100% sure how many mountain bikes passed me during the stretch of trail because I didn’t count. But I’m sure there were at least 100 riders. That means more than 10 riders were trying to get past me every single mile.
The consequence of constantly having to stop to let individual riders and group riders pass is that I was barely able to maintain a 2.3 mph pace! Now look, I know trail etiquette says riders yield to hikers, but when someone on a bike is hurtling down a hill toward you at 15-20 mph, you don’t take chances with your physical safety. You quickly step aside. And that’s exactly what I did. Over… and over… and over… and over… Well, you get the point.
By the time I made it to Tahoe Meadows, a good bit of fury and frustration at the situation was starting to bubble up. I couldn’t get through that section of the trail fast enough! And although most of the riders were polite and would say thanks or tell me if there were other riders behind them, there were also a handful of jerks intent on jumping off rocks and doing aerial tricks while nearly taking me out in the process.
TAHOE MEADOWS
By the time I made it to Tahoe Meadows, I was ready for a break from the madness. Camping isn’t allowed in the meadows or anywhere within that 3-mile section, except at the Mt. Rose campground (a primitive USFS campground just off Mt. Rose Highway). I didn’t plan to stop for the day and set up camp, but I did want to set up my tent and take an extended lunch again. So, I found a small copse of trees just before Ophir Creek and put up the mesh part of my tent so I could stretch out and relax with my shoes off.
Ophir Creek was also my water resupply spot. The creek was running really strong this time of year, and I decided to dip my tired feet in for a bit while I gathered and filtered water. There was a wooden boardwalk on the opposite side of the creek, and it made a beautiful scene up against the vast meadow and mountains. This tranquil scenery was just what I needed to hit the reset button after my frustrating morning!
After lunch, the afternoon was really heating up. Today was the warmest day I’ve had on the trail yet, and so I rolled down my sleeves and broke out my sun gloves (once again) to protect myself from getting sunburned. I also took some time to slather on a bunch of sunscreen since the next section looks like it’ll be pretty exposed.
MOUNT ROSE
About 2 miles ahead of Tahoe Meadows, the trail merged with a paved road. To the right was the Mt. Rose Campground, and the trail led off to the left toward Mt. Rose Highway. I decided to take a small detour to the campground to use the pit toilet and the dumpster so I could get rid of the past day’s worth of trash. It always amazes me how much various wrappers and other packaging weigh! But more importantly, regularly dumping my trash means I don’t have to worry about something accidentally falling out or blowing away and creating litter out here.
I was surprised to see a sign posted on the campground’s entrance board announcing that the campground was full. I also noticed they were collecting $22/night just to camp there! Jeez. That’s steep! There wasn’t even running water at the campground, so why the heck would any hiker pay $22 to stay there?? I’d much rather stealth camp in the mountains, under the trees and stars, and without any neighbors or noise. I guess the convenience of people being able to drive in with their car or small trailer lets the forest service do this, though.
After my quick pitstop at the campground, I followed the paved road out to the busy highway and jogged across it to the Mt. Rose Summit trailhead. The parking lot on the side of the road was jammed with cars, and I soon felt a smug satisfaction with my decision to detour to the campground to use their pit toilet. That’s because the bathrooms here were wrapped in chainlink fencing with a giant sign announcing they were closed!
The Mt. Rose trailhead was a popular spot this afternoon. That fact isn’t really all that surprising, though. It’s summertime. It’s a Friday afternoon. And there’s a trail leading to a waterfall. I guess its extreme popularity is pretty predictable. On the positive note, though, there was a small sign at the trailhead that made me smile from ear to ear.
GALENA FALLS
The next few miles up to Galena Falls were rather uneventful. I passed numerous families, and the trail was pretty moderately graded. In the distance, there were views of Mt. Rose, an extinct volcano, which, at 10,778′ elevation, is the highest and most prominent Sierra Nevada peak in Nevada.
Back down near the trailhead, there was a sign about the weather observatory on Mt. Rose, which was established as one of America’s first high-altitude meteorological observatories back in June 1905 (85 years ago!!). At the observatory, researchers carried out snow studies and developed the modern science of snow survey, which is used today around the world to predict seasonal water flow from precipitation stored in snowpack.
As I worked my way up the trail on the north side of the mountain, I encountered some smaller patches of snow again! And more day hikers in their late teens and early 20s. And lots and lots of hikers with dogs. Jeez, this was a popular trail. I wonder how many of these folks know they are hiking on the Tahoe Rim Trail or that this small trip to the waterfall is part of a much bigger circuit?
I finally made it up to Galena Falls around 5 pm and stopped for the requisite photo and to gather some water. The trail continued up some switchbacks to the top of the falls, where there are several spots to stop, rest, and figure out my game plan for the evening.
Galena Falls was 17 miles from where I started this morning, and 37.6 miles from where I need to get to in two days’ time (Tahoe City). So it was totally feasible for me to stop here for the night. And there were some super-nice-looking flat spots above the falls where I could call it a day.
It was still pretty early though. What the heck was I going to do for the next 3.5 hours until the sun went down? Why not push a little further to see if I could find something with great views again? Relay Peak was another 3.5 miles ahead and I’m sure I can find somewhere below the summit to camp tonight. The snow has been negligible thus far, so I should be good.
THE NEW TRT
About a half hour after I left Galena Falls, I encountered two more TRT thru-hikers coming my way. It was a pair of ladies, one in her 30s and the other in her late 50s. We stopped for a bit and chatted about the trail conditions (they confirmed there was some now near Relay Peak, but it was easily passable in just trail shoes if you had trekking poles. There was no need for micro spikes or other snow/ice gear.
Then, all of a sudden, the older woman sheepishly asked, “You don’t happen to have any tampons, do you?” Well, as a matter of fact, I always carry a handful of them, just in case. She went on to explain that she was currently going through menopause and had an incident that she was completely unprepared to deal with on the trail. I was more than happy to help out. I guess today is definitely the day my first aid kit supplies would be worth carrying. Between the girl who busted up her knee this morning and this lady here, I’m feeling pretty good about my opportunity to help out.
After saying goodbye, I had a lot of hard climbing ahead of me. This was the steepest section of trail I’ve encountered in the past four days, and it seemed to never end. Yet the views of the surrounding scenery were spectacular, and I used my frequent rest breaks to take photos of Frog Pond below and the rocky peaks rising above.
After about an hour of hard climbing, I still hadn’t really seen a great place to stop for the night. Much of the area on either side of the trail dropped steeply on one side or rose steeply on the other. So, I kept plodding along. Back where I encountered the two ladies above the falls, the trail split between the “old TRT” (a dirt road mostly used by horseback riders) and the “new TRT,” a more exposed footpath that heads north toward Mt. Houghton before curving back south to Relay Peak.
This new route is about a mile longer than the old one but far more scenic than walking on a dirt road, so I’m pleased the trail association chose to build it. The new TRT was completely free of snow until I reached the junction for Mt. Houghton. From there, it followed the ridgeline, and the snow suddenly appeared in larger quantities.
At first, I was able to stay high and follow an animal track that paralleled the TRT while avoiding the snow, but eventually the trails merged. The snow wasn’t ever too bad, though. It was just a little slick or soft in places, causing me to posthole once or twice.
The trail continued south toward some sort of electronics relay station located on the summit just before Relay Peak. It was an extremely pleasant experience walking along the exposed ridgeline. The early evening sun was still warm, and there wasn’t any wind to speak of up there. But mostly, I was grateful for my luck. I’m sure this stretch of trail could be a radically different experience in less favorable conditions.
When I reached the summit with all the electronic equipment on it, it rejoined the “old TRT” dirt road, and a metal sign announced that I was now entering the Mt. Rose Wilderness. This was the moment of truth, and I needed to make a decision. I’d hiked 19 miles for today, and this spot had some spectacular views on both sides. There was a giant flat area near the trail junction where I could set up camp, and even some concrete barriers that I could use to block the wind if it picked up overnight. Or…I could continue on another 0.5 miles to Relay Peak.
Of course, hiking up to Relay Peak meant I’d need to continue going for an indeterminate distance beyond the summit to find somewhere suitable to spend the night. I had no idea how far that location might be. But, Relay Peak is the highest point on the TRT, so everything else beyond it would be downhill, right? My ability to rationalize the upcoming terrain always results in hiking more miles than I anticipated.
RELAY PEAK & BEYOND
After considering how nice the conditions were in that moment and the risk that they could change by tomorrow morning, I decided to go for it. I will admit that those final 0.5 miles to the summit were the hardest part of the trail. I don’t know if it was the snow, the altitude, or the fact that it was just the end of a long day, but I was huffing and puffing on my way to the summit.
When I finally reached it, I could see the north end of Lake Tahoe in the distance, but I was too pooped to stay for long and enjoy it. It was time to head down and find somewhere to set up camp for the night. My feet ache, and they need a little more TLC.
The trail heading down from the summit had more snow drifts, and I postholed a few more times, but it was all behind me after about 0.5 miles. From that moment on, I kept looking for somewhere suitable to stop for the night. Unfortunately, just like the hike up, this stretch of trail had steep drop-offs or sloping hillsides on either side. Heck, I couldn’t even set up ON THE TRAIL because it wasn’t wide enough. So, I keep walking and looking.
The further I hiked, the more mentally distressed I was becoming. There didn’t seem to be anywhere decent to stop on this side of the descent. I was utterly exhausted and becoming less and less picky about any halfway-decent prospect. At one point, I was even eyeballing some flattish-looking boulders, but knew in my heart that it would be incredibly uncomfortable – even if I could get my semi-freestanding tent erected on it.
Forty-five minutes into my descent, I passed through a nice open sandy area with views of the slab cliffs behind me. I finally found a decent place to make camp. Plus, I was only about a mile above a fresh spring. I wouldn’t have to worry about how much water I used with dinner or breakfast because I’d be filling back up in the first 30 minutes tomorrow.
It was now 7 pm, and I was physically beat while doing my camp chores. The balls of my feet are super tender after today’s 21-mile day, and I let them air out as I cooked dinner. Sitting there, relaxing, I could hear the squeaky calls of several pika nearby. These little guys were probably hanging out in the boulders surrounding my campsite. I guess it’s a good thing my food is all secure in that bear canister after all.
As I watched the sun go down and ate my dinner, I looked over my map. That’s when I realized the extra miles I’d walked yesterday and today mean I might make it all the way to Watson Lake tomorrow. I’m almost half a day ahead of schedule! I’ll be getting to Tahoe City earlier than expected, and so I can rest my weary feet. Woohoo!!!
DAY 4 OVERVIEW
HIGHLIGHTS
- Relaxing in Tahoe Meadows and soaking my feet in the cool rushing water of Ophir Creek during my lunch break.
- Making it up and over Relay Peak, the highest point on the Tahoe Rim Trail
- Putting my first aid supplies to good use and coming to the rescue for some hikers in need.
CHALLENGES
- Trying to maintain a decent hiking pace despite constantly having to step off trail to let all the mountain bikers ride by. If only I’d known to hike this section on an odd-numbered day!
- My two-mile search for a flat camping spot after getting over Relay Peak. I can’t believe I actually considered setting my tent up on a boulder.
PHOTO OF THE DAY
