Day 86 – Bears, Cat Holes and Cat Naps (Lassen Volcanic NP)

Miles: 1346.3 to 1369.6

Trail Miles: 23.3

Miles Hiked: 25.9

WARNING: If you’re easily grossed out, please skip today’s post. This falls under TMI.

You have been warned.

Last night, Smokebeard and I camped on the south border of Lassen Volcanic National Park. It was a mosquito infested area, but allowed us to skirt the Park’s Bear canister requirement.

I’d cooked dinner – a bean soup recipe I’d gotten off a bag of dried beans – wearing my bug headnet and rain gear to avoid getting bitten. The soup was quite tasty and filling, but I remember thinking ‘that’s a lot of beans.’ The portion size was probably equal to 3 normal servings. Hiker hunger being what it is, I ate every bite.

That would come back to haunt me. At 2 AM I woke up with the most painful stomach cramps (and by cramps I mean gas moving through my gastro-intestinal system). So painful I could not fall back asleep. At one point, I thought I was going to throw up.

By 6AM I’d already dug two cat holes. Shortly after entering Lassen Volcanic National Park, I was digging my third. Between my stomach and the lack of sleep, I was moving slow and not feeling well.

Regarding cat holes: There’s no art to digging cat holes. It’s pretty simple: Using a small trowel you dig a 6-8 inch deep hole. (Factoid: most backpacking trowels are 6-8 inches long, in case you need help digging the right depth.). The finesse comes in when you position yourself relative to the hole. If you have knee or joint issues, you might miss a few times in the beginning. — You then use a stick to move things into the hole. Never use the trowel for this. The trowel should only ever touch dirt. — Eventually you get the geometry and positioning worked out. I don’t mean to brag, but after 80-odd days, my aim was pretty darn good, on target every time.

Until this morning that is.

The urgency with which things happened, uh, shall we say, altered the trajectory by several feet (yes, feet). I was at once horrified and astounded (my body did that??). I remember thinking this would be funny in a gross-bodily-function-kind-of-way, if it wasn’t actually happening to me.

I try to follow the “Leave No Trace” (LNT) ethos in the woods. I dig my cat holes and pack out my used TP. I try to ensure no person or animal knows where I did my business. But wow. What to do now? — I tried my best to cover things up. I threw 6 inches of dirt on top of what I could find, and hoped the LNT gods would forgive me.

It was only 4 miles to Drakesbad Guest Ranch where my resupply package was. My plan had been to pick it up and continue hiking, but now I wasn’t so sure. All morning long I was afraid to even fart. I felt like I needed a day off to let the bean soup clear my system. Unfortunately, the Park requirement for a Bear canister made it so I had two options. Stay at the campground near the Guest Ranch that had bear boxes for food storage. Or hike another 15 miles and exit the park. There was truly no in between. I’d seen my first bear of the entire trip that morning, shortly after digging cat hole #3. I saw another one that afternoon. There was a reason for the bear can requirement.

I wanted to curl up in the fetal position and sleep until I felt better, but I was afraid a bear would smell the food in my pack and come sniffing around. — Heck, I was afraid one might sneak up on me while I was crouched over a a cat hole. Sigh. Nothing to do but keep hiking.

I eventually made it to Drakesbad Guest Ranch. They were still serving breakfast, so I ate in the hopes it might settle my stomach. I then picked up my resupply box and took a shower in their outdoor hiker shower. For $5 you get a towel AND soap and shampoo. It was a welcome luxury in my demoralized state.

After 2 1/2 hrs I headed to the campground. Unfortunately the CG only had pit toilets, no store or other amenities. I had just enough food to get to Burney, my next resupply. However, without a store, I didn’t have enough food to spend the night and make it to Burney. I had no choice but to continue hiking.

There was a climb leaving the CG. As I approached the top, I was feeling fatigued and dehydrated. My stomach still ached. I stopped and laid down next to the trail. I took a cat nap there, huddled in the shade of a small pine tree. I didn’t care if a bear came around – I just needed to rest.

Fortunately the cat nap was just the reset I needed. When I got back up, I felt much better. The bean soup had finally passed. It was one o’clock.

Refreshed, I made it to Rainbow Lake and met up with several hikers I knew. A bear had just been there and had only moved around the lake about 150 yds. We all watched as he went for a swim in the lake. The trail passed close by where he was, swimming so we all set off with some trepidation but made it safely by.

Do you know how to tell the difference between a day-hiker, section-hiker and thru-hiker? If someone drops an M&M on the trail, a day-hiker will ignore it and keep hiking. A section-hiker will stop, pick it up, clean it off and eat it. A thru-hiker will will pick it up, eat it and then search around for more.

Later in the afternoon I realized I had truly become “hiker trash’ when I stopped and picked up two peanut M&Ms someone had dropped on the trail. One had even been stepped on and was cracked open. I didn’t give a second thought, until I came upon a half-eaten Clif Bar someone had dropped. I picked it up, dusted off what dirt I could and ate it as well. After the morning I’d had, you’d think I’d be more cautious. The reality was, I was more worried about feeding my body and replacing everything it had lost. The trail really changes your perspective and threshold on things.

Today got me thinking back on my conversation with Baby Blanket about what makes a successful long-distance thru-hiker. There’s a BIG difference between backpacking for a week or two, or even something like the JMT. There’s a different mindset when this becomes your life for 4-6 months. Baby Blanket had said it was a matter of consistency and problem solving. A hiker needed to consistently do miles as well as problem solve so issues didn’t become show-stoppers. I agree with that but would also add that successful thru hikers don’t have to be the best problem solvers, but it does help to be stubborn.