Day 91, July 17: Mile 1300 to 1305 and into Butte Meadows
Start: Mile 1300.2
End: Cold Spring - Mile 1305.4
Miles: 5.2
Ascent: 395 | Descent: 923
I again woke up a little later, and unfortunately with a bit of a sore throat. Uh oh. I hoped it wouldn’t get worse.
I had realized as I was going to bed that I camped at mile marker 1300.2 and that I had missed the 1300 marker. So after I packed up camp, I walked back on trail a bit to find it and ran into Slapshot. We looked together for a bit but couldn’t find it anywhere. We found some scattered rocks that maybe looked like it could have been there previously but someone destroyed it for some reason? Who knows.
I returned to my pack and started my day. I saw what maybe was a goshawk shortly after leaving camp. It watched me as I hiked on by.
I was feeling pretty icky, and was worrying about my sore throat. Was I getting sick? Had I gotten Covid like so many of my friends on trail? Every minute I felt worse and I kept needed to taking breaks almost every half mile. I felt totally worn out and like a bus had hit me. I tried to keep my spirits up but was worrying a lot.
I came to a water source at the aptly named Cold Spring. I started chatting with a hiker named Zinc, who I had met briefly in Quincy. He told me how he had been dealing with Covid and was feeling better enough to hike but also how terrible the recovery had been. He had taken a week off in Quincy and thought sleeping in a bed had helped his recovery.
I weighed everything he said and thought maybe I would trail zero on my way into Chester, 25 miles ahead. Zinc kindly gave me some of his food so I would have enough to do that.
I started off from Cold Spring towards the next water source, thinking I could cover the 8 miles slowly over the course of the day. After just a half mile, I felt so woozy I could barely stand and had to lie down on the side of the trail for 20 minutes. Zinc caught up to me again and after talking with him, I decided I needed to turn back and camp by the last water source as there was no way I would make it 8 miles.
I made it to the spring again and saw Bradventure, who kindly made me some instant ramen. It felt very comforting but I struggled to get it down.
There were two trucks parked at the road near the spring, and Bradventure informed me that he had seen day hikers get out of them 15 minutes before I arrived. I decided I would try to ask them for a ride into town so I could hopefully sleep in a bed and recover, and I laid down on my mat and tried to nap a bit while I waited. Even in the sun I was shivering. Not a good sign. While I was semi-napping, I saw a number of friends come to the spring for water, including Pitbull, Boop, Hummingbird and Spinewalker. I gratuitously took all the pity I could for feeling crappy.
Finally the day hikers arrived at the spring and I asked them politely if I could get a ride into whatever town they were going to, figuring it was maybe Chico or Chester. It turns out they were going to a tiny mountain town called Butte Meadows that only had about 40 people living there, but they said there was a place you could rent a cabin. Sounded fine to me, so I agreed.
I rode in the bed of one of their trucks in case I was indeed sick with Covid. The ride down was initially very bumpy down the dirt road, but I was dozing off against my pack even with all the bouncing around. It flattened out once we reached paved road. The whole time I was absolutely cooking in the reflective white bed of the truck and the direct sun.
After about 40 minutes, we reached the town and the Butte Meadows Resort and Mercantile, a collection of maybe 5 cabins of various sizes and a small store and pizza and sandwich shop. Bob and Cory, the couple who drove me, went inside to ask about availability of the cabins while I waited outside.
Pretty soon, a different guy came back to the truck with Bob and Cory to tell me that he paid for my night in the cabin. My mouth fell open. “No!” I exclaimed, flabbergasted and breaking into tears at the unexpected generosity after such a crappy day. “Are you sure?” He was sure. I was overcome with gratitude and emotion and thanked him. To make it even more amazing, he handed me a $100 bill and told me to get myself a good dinner at the restaurant nearby. I thanked him again and asked his name - Troy.
Crying still, I walked to the cabin. The owner of the resort, Stacey, kindly carried my backpack on the walk over. She told me to make myself comfortable, take a shower and get in bed. I dutifully followed orders and the shower was absolutely amazing. Sliding under the covers of the bed felt like a wash of relief, even though I was shivering furiously despite the warm temperature of the un-air conditioned cabin.
After lying in the bed for just a bit, I heard a knock at the door. I said to come in, and one of Stacey’s friends dropped off a bag of food and drinks for me that she had sent over. She very kindly provided me with biscuits, scrambled eggs with ham, protein bars, drinks and fresh fruit. I cried again, and I feel choked up again writing this later on. The instant generosity and care that this little town took on me was such a blessing.
The rest of the day and night was spent napping. I tried at one point to walk to get dinner but I couldn’t find the restaurant that Troy had talked about, so I walked back to my cabin, ate some eggs and fell back asleep.