June 27, 2020
- Start – A few miles below Relay Peak (mile 87.3)
- End – Watson Lake Campground (mile 106.4)
- Daily Mileage – 19.1 miles
I’m really glad I didn’t decide to camp at a higher altitude up near the top of Relay Peak last night. I mentally noted that there was virtually no wind up there when I crossed the summit. But, now I realize it must have just been a temporary reprieve. I wasn’t even asleep last night before I heard to wind fiercely whooshing above me. The tops of the tall pines were swaying. And so, I knew I’d made a good choice to push to this lower elevation after all.
Luckily, I slept well last night even with all the wind and the constant squeaking of the pika hanging out in the nearby rocks. I attribute my sound sleep from being overly tired. After all, I really pushed my body hard these past few days. I hiked big miles (28 of them!) two days ago, and was feeling like I’d really dehydrated myself in the process. Then I used my final reserves of energy getting up and over the TRT’s high point yesterday. The past two days have been pretty hard, and now I was paying the price.
When I woke up around 6 am, I could feel the side effects of my efforts immediately. My plantar fasciitis was acting up and the arches of my feet were screaming before I even took my first steps out of the tent. I also had to spend a fair bit of time bandaging my feet due to some unfortunate blisters. So, I was moving super slow this morning, mostly just trying to remedy my ails. And It took me close to an hour to get totally packed up.
LOVELY WATER
By the time I finished making my coffee and oatmeal for breakfast, I was down to less than a cup of water in my plastic bottle. Normally this would be cause for worry. However, my stealth campsite last night was onlyabout a mile above a spring (according to Guthook). That meant it wouldn’t be long before I was full again. And if I somehow failed to find the spring, there were some additional water options just beyond it down the side trail to Gray Lake.
Of course, there was no real need to fret about accidentally missing the spring. I heard the freshwater long before I saw. The sound of water rushing over rocks just below the trail forced my eyes to the left, where I spotted a trickling stream of water rushing out of some willow bushes and making its way down to lower ground about 30 feet below the trail.
While hiking off-trail to gather some of this ice cold bounty, I started thinking about spring water. I suspect most folks who turn on a faucet each day don’t spend much time thinking about the crazy awesomeness of water bubbling out of the ground to make a spring. Sure, they might see the words “spring water” on the bottles of Evian or Fiji in the store. But how many people sitting in their homes or offices right now can actually claim they’ve captured spring water and drank it just moments after its emerged from the earth? I’m sorry but, I think its pretty darn cool to be able do that!
Just one more reason I love hiking!
DIAMOX AND SNOW
After topping off my water, I was back in business and ready to make some miles. Unfortunately, my feet were still bothering me and none of my muscles or ligaments seemed to be loosening up. I tried to focus on the trail ahead of me, and that’s when I crossed paths three tall guys with large packs heading up the hill. I stopped to say hi, and soon learned they were thru-hiking the TRT too. Two of the guys were from California, while their third pal came all the way from Minnesota to hike the trail.
We were chatting about the trail conditions toward Relay Peak, when the guy from Minnesota volunteered that he was really having some trouble with altitude the past day. His buddy from the Bay Area was the one who they all expected to have issues. After all, that dude was coming from sea level. Yet, he felt just fine up here. The Minnesota Viking admitted he was struggling mightily yesterday, but he now felt a lot better after bumming some Diamox pills off his friend last night.
I’ve used Diamox before to prevent altitude sickness (I even wrote an entire post about it HERE), but I was more than a little surprised someone would bring it to use on this trail. The Tahoe Rim Trail hangs out around 7,000′ to 8,000′ much of the time. That’s really only considered moderate altitude. But, I guess everyone’s altitude tolerance is different.
I did make sure to warn the Viking to make sure to drink lots of water the next few days. As I recall, the biggest side effect of Diamox is frequent urination. It would be a shame to quell his altitude headaches only to invite dehydration headaches in their place instead. One of the other guys nodded in agreement, and that’s when he boasted about them melting some snow this morning.
What the heck??!?
Yep, these three dudes wasted their stove fuel melting snow this morning! There wasn’t even that much snow up here. And they’d camped less than a mile from the natural spring that I just used – not to mention nearby Gray Lake. Why in the world would that do that?? Did these guys really think they were being hardened outdoorsmen by melting snow to make coffee? It was all I could do to restrain myself from rolling my eyes at the notion.
BACK TO CALI
After that bizarre run in, I decided to refocus on the trail as it wound itself around the edge of Lake Tahoe. From this vantage point, I could see Stateline Point, the peninsula of land that juts into Lake Tahoe where the California-Nevada border crosses through the northern part of the lake. The views were hazier than I hoped, but I could still kind of make out the opposite end of the lake down to the south (nearly 22 miles away!) with the snow capped Sierras in the background!
As the trail continued to slowly descend, I passed a few more small patches of snow and then a field of wildflowers that were just beginning to bloom. It was a pretty chill morning, but for the pain that just wouldn’t go away in my feet. It was around this point that I gave in and broke out the Motrin. I’m loathe to take pain medication unless I really need it, but today was one of those days. Every step was becoming more and more difficult. My arches were on fire, and I was ready to give in and just swallow the damn pills.
The pain was subsiding before long, and then I was making my way to the end of the Mt. Rose Wilderness. On my way out, I stopped to admire the unique metal sign marking my departure. I’d seen its mate up on the ridge right before I tackled Relay Peak yesterday afternoon. And now I was to coming to the opposite end of the wilderness’s boundary this morning with a similar one here. You really had to admire how someone took the time to craft this piece of art and place it out on the trail. The TRT really is something awesome.
Soon after that, I was directly above Stateline Point and walking back into California once again. Like my last border crossing, this one was completely unmarked. I only had my Guthook App to show me that I was standing at the place were the trail passed from one state to the next. So, once again, I had to make my own proof of the moment. I sure hope it puts a smile on someone else’s face today when they see it too.
SATURDAY BLUES
After gathering rocks and make my makeshift marker on trail on the ground, I tried to gauge how much farther I needed to go before finding a reasonable lunch spot. There wouldn’t be water again until the end of the day at Watson’s Lake, so I could pretty much pick any spot. There were plenty of meadows, but I decided that the short detour to Picnic Rock seemed like a better place to take a break. Picnic Rock would be around 11 miles into the day and was supposed to have one of the best views on the TRT.
A few miles later, I passed several trail junctions and parking areas near Mathis Peak road and noticed there seemed to be a lot of day hikers out and about. It was only then that I realized today was Saturday. Doh! Picnic Rock was bound to be crowded with weekend warriors looking for some epic views. And given that it was only a mile up from the Brockway Summit Trailhead, I probably had zero chance of solitude if I stopped there for lunch.
Sure enough, when I got to the trail junction for Picnic Rock, there were close to two dozen hikers headed my way wearing cloth masks over their faces (to curtail the spread of COVID-19). Picnic Rock wasn’t going to be a good spot after all. Darn it. And now I was well beyond the meadows and views. There was nothing else nearby but narrow trail and steep hillsides, and that was a less than ideal spot to stop. I guess I would be heading down to Brockway Summit where I could get a little space to stretch out instead.
BIG BEAR, BOASTERS & BAD ETIQUETTE
As I pulled to the side of the the trail to let a group of eight 20-something hikers pass me, so did another TRT thru-hiker heading in the opposite direction. We called out to each other and said hello, then exchanged a bit of information about the water sources. She told me some trail angels left water near the Brockway Summit trailhead, while I told her about the still-broken pump and unexpected water source still running at Marlette Peak. In the process, I also discovered her trail name was Big Bear.
In just a few minutes, I also discovered Big Bear been out hiking the AT back in 2019, just like me! She was a LASHer (or Long-Ass Section Hiker) who hiked 1,100 miles from Virginia to Vermont in 2018, then returned to finish up the remaining 1,100 miles from Vermont to Mt. Katahdin and back then down to Virginia to Springer Mountain last year. As a result of her fragmented path, we never actually crossed paths. But, it sure was good to meet someone and share some good memories from the trail.
We wished each other good luck on the rest of the TRT and I started back down toward Brockway Summit. As I did, a couple in their early 60’s who’d overheard the end of our discussion came right up behind me and started peppering me questions. They asked me if I’d actually hiked the AT. And then wanted to know if it was longer than this trail.
When I explained that the AT was just under 2,200 miles and stretched from Georgia to Maine, the woman was extremely impressed with that. Her companion then asked me how long it took me to complete it. I told him it takes most hikers about 4-6 months to finish the trail. He immediately harrumphed and announced he could definitely do it half that time.
“Ok buddy, sure you could.” I thought. But, I didn’t bother to engage. People like the aren’t interested in reality. So, I just smiled, turned on the gas, and started hiking a bit faster until I was no longer in his range of silliness.
Unfortunately, that’s when I encountered the group of 20-somethings I’d let pass on the trail earlier. Except now they were no longer on the trail. Instead, they were walking down the hillside and cutting across the trail each time it switchbacked below. Ugh!! What to do?? Do I just ignore it and chalk it up to bad trail etiquette? Or do I engage these day hikers and educate them?
Some things aren’t worth the energy (like continuing to talk to Mr. I-Can-Hike-It-In-Half-The-Time), but this is something I feel pretty passionate about. So I stopped one of the girls who jumped on trail ahead of me and asked for a moment of her time.
In my least scolding tone of voice, I asked if she enjoyed hiking the trail. When she replied, “yes,” I asked if she wouldn’t mind sticking to the trail next time since going cross-country can cause significant erosion issues. She seemed genuinely taken aback by my admonition. But, I quickly assured her I wasn’t trying to call her out. I just assumed she was new to the outdoors and didn’t know her actions could cause the trail to wash out. Or that such erosion might force the trail association to close the route until it could be safely repaired.
I’m not sure if my intervention will change her view on the trail, but at least I know I did my best. And with that, I continued down to the Brockway Summit Trailhead.
A RELAXED AFTERNOON
Unfortunately, the trailhead was jammed packed with cars, and it took me a solid five minutes to cross the busy road and get to the opposite side. The southern side of the road was a little less crowded, but I didn’t feel like copping a squat right there and having everyone watch me while I ate lunch. That wouldn’t be very relaxing. So, I wandered about a half mile down the trail and stopped there instead.
My lunch break was definitely later than expected, since I’d bypassed the crowds at Picnic Rock. On the positive side though, I would have an pretty easy afternoon when I resumed hiking. It was only another 6.5 miles until Watson Lake, where I planned to camp tonight. So, I took the time to pull out my ground sheet and stretched out in a relaxed recline with my shoes off while I ate lunch. Plus, I had a bit of cell service still and could used the time to send a text to the hubby and check in on the news back home.
The afternoon was was now overcast, cool, and a bit windy. I settled into an easy pace after lunch and it wasn’t too long before I was crossing paths with yet another clockwise TRT thru-hiker named Dan. We started talking about trail conditions and he told me there was a bit of bear activity last night down at Watson Lake thanks to some car campers who didn’t secure their food while they went out for a short hike. That’s never good news. 🙁
I asked Dan where he was from (Chicago) and, before long, we were talking about all sorts of subjects – hiking in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula, some of his sailing adventures, Isle Royal National Park – and we both eventually ditched our packs and sat on the edge of the trail to continue the discussion. Perhaps I was just starved for a good conversation after five days out here all by myself, but the next 30 minutes of the afternoon flew by and I was genuinely having a fantastic time talking to Dan.
Of course, all good things much come to an end though. The wind started picking up, and we both needed to get back on trail to finish up our planned mileage for the day. I know it isn’t likely, but I sure hope Dan and I cross paths again before I complete the trail. I have a feeling we’d have a lot more to talk about.
LOGGING OPERATIONS
After bidding farewell to Dan, it was time to buckle down and finish off the remaining miles to Watson Lake. He’d warned me that the next section of trail was going to surprise me. It looked like a tornado hit it and there were downed trees everywhere. That is because there was some large-scale logging operation going occurring on either side of the trail.
Dan wasn’t wrong about the sight. It started off simply enough with a orange, diamond-shaped signed that read, “Tree Work Ahead.” Further up another bright orange sign warned of “Flying Debris Ahead.” This was followed by several more signs warning about brush cutters and general forestry operations. It almost became a game over the following mile to see how many differently worded warning signs I could spot.
And then there was the large logging equipment parked in the middle of th forest near tons of logs. I was extremely grateful that it was Saturday and everyone seemed to off for the day. I can only imagine the ruckus all this machinery would be making (not to mention the potential danger of trying to dodge flying debris) if I were hiking through this section on a normal weekday. Instead, it was eerily quiet and like I was walking through a tree graveyard.
I know the National Forest Service’s mission is to conserve and manage the use of our natural resources – not to preserve them like the National Park Service does. But, it made me a rather sad to see the harvesting of this pristine land up close. Even after these big, loud logging machines are long gone, the character of this forest will be changed for decades. There were logs and fallen in various stages of removal. Plus, the giant vacant spots punctuating the landscape reminded me of a 7-year old kid smiling – only to reveal gaps where his baby teeth recently fell out. Sure, it’s a normal process, but it’s creepy and weird at the same time.
Watson Lake
Once I was past the Carnelian Woods area where the logging operations were going on, I was back in another “no camping zone.” For the next four miles, the only camping permitted along the trail was the Watson Lake Campground. So, that would be my destination for the night.
About a mile before I got to the campground, there was a stream with cold water flowing, so I stopped there to filter water. Although I’d be camping next to a water source (Watson Lake) this evening, I had no idea whether the water would taste good there and I didn’t want to risk a repeat of Spooner Lake. I’d rather carry two liters the final mile of the day than have to filter something that tasted like goose poop again.
As it turns out, Watson Lake was nice enough. The TRT skirted around the eastern side of this small lake, and then I merely had to take a short side trail to the primitive campground. The first site I crossed had a bikepacker already set up in it. Then there were several more site that filled with more tents. Given that it was aleady 5 pm on a Saturday, I worried that maybe the campground was full. But I managed to score a small site at the end near a group of car campers. Heck, I even had my own bear box to myself. Woohoo! Now let’s hope last night’s bear activity doesn’t repeat itself.
KARMA
After setting up my tent for the evening and pulling out my food for dinner, I made an unpleasant discovery. I went to plug my phone into my external battery and learned it was all out of juice! I thought I had just enough battery left to get one last partial charge out of it. But, nope! It wasn’t going to happen.
My phone was down to 42% battery, so I could probably make it until tomorrow’s resupply point in Tahoe City with no issues. But, I was still bummed because I wanted to listen to a podcast this evening. But do so might mean that I’d risk draining the battery so much that I wouldn’t be able to take as many photos as I wanted too tomorrow.
That’s when fate intervened. Once of the girls from the campsite next to me (the car campers) came over and asked me if I’d be willing to take a photo of her group with the lake in the background. I agreed, and then – on a whim – asked if I could plug my phone into one of their cars to charge it up a bit. She did me one better and offered to let me use her solar charger!!
So, I spent the next hour charging my phone while I ate dinner and was able to relax in my tent that evening and listen to my podcast with a 90% charged phone!!! Nice. It must be my good karma from the other day when I was rescued my fellow hikers with a spare tampon supply and bandaged up some skinned knees.
DAY 5 OVERVIEW
HIGHLIGHTS
- Delicious natural spring water and taking those awesome views of the north end of Lake Tahoe as I crossed back in to California
- Chatting with my fellow thru-hikers like Big Bear and Ben. I’m sure glad I went counter-clockwise so I could meet so many people on the solo section of my hike.
- Great karma at the end of the day. Thank you random car camper for your generosity!
CHALLENGES
- The sheer popularity of the Tahoe Rim Trail on the summer weekends. Wow it was crowded near Brockway Summit!
- A bit of melancholy washing over me while hiking through the partially-harvested forest before Watson Lake.
PHOTO OF THE DAY
