Pacific Crest Trail - Summer 2012

Our last hitch was chock full of ups and downs, quite literally, as we entered the rugged and challenging arena of Squaw Valley for the first time. Being our first FULLY self-supported excursion of the summer, the crew had to make sure to pack as light as possible and fully consider what was necessary to survive for 5 days of work. Loaded with food, tools, and tents, we set out from the Truckee Ranger Station along with four of the Forest Service’s best and brightest to do some serious log-out.
In the Valley, we quickly established base camp and learned how to cook light on Whisperlight stoves, a first for the summer. Logging while moving with a 30+ lb pack is not the easiest feat, and some members quickly discovered that bringing more food can be quite the challenge when you have to carry it yourself! However each member was able to hold their own and persevere, even if it meant some sore shoulders and backs at the end of the day.
With the extra people on board, we were able to split the group and tackle two areas at once, which we did on the second and fourth days of work. It was a great learning experience for everyone, with the SCA members gaining new perspectives on the usefulness of rockbars, and the Forest Service guys hearing some stories about the summer we’ve had thus far. On the third day, everyone packed up camp and once again moved to a new location while logging the whole way. With less food, the trip seems easier, but the extra work can certainly wear down the body. Along the trip, the crew was able to leapfrog and clear sections of trail with some of the largest logs we’ve encountered yet.
The last day of the hitch was surely the most daunting, with a nearly 6 mile uphill towards the summit of the Squaw Valley Ski Resort. Loaded once again full of slightly lighter packs, but with a whole lot less stamina, the crew trudged their way bit by bit past every single switchback and mule’s ear until FINALLY reaching the peak, and what a view it was! Lake Tahoe in front of them, and the trails clear behind them, our familiar SCA members were at long last able to ride the welcoming Tram car though the historic Olympic site and on towards some much deserved burgers. Kicking ass and taking names, we were able to log out over 20 miles of trail in 5 days, an accomplishment to be proud of. Surely, this was a hitch that would go down in history.

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Now gather round all, settle down and listen well to the story of the SCA Crew of 2012 who valiantly and bravely did trek the trails and cut the trees of the great Pacific Crest in the forests of old in the Valley of the Inyo National. On this most auspicious of hitches, which dear friends, if you have been keeping count, was the fourth this summer, a number of celestial events that were set in motion by the stars above and the rivers below came to fruition. Our four crew members and their fearless leader, the Little King of Stately Oklahoma, would forever alter the flow of time that carries all things to their final resting places along the vast mountain ranges.
On the first morn the five team members emerged, radiant in the morning sun, and did set out for some good trundlin’ (that’s rock tumblin’ for you folks at home who ain’t quite so trail-minded) and trundle they did for two full days down by Duck Pass Trail. But on the second day of labor, a certain foreboding hung heavy in the air, and our champions did notice its presence. For alas, about halfway through the morn, valiant Herm did swing mightily into a large rock with a hammer of sledge that did shatter and strike his knee, and the blow did knock him down. His cry of pain rang out through the trees and the damage done was great. And that was only the beginning of the troubles.
Soon after the godlike Herm had fallen and returned to the pack station, the remaining members journeyed far into the backcountry with mule support and strode along the mountaintops for 11 miles on the third day, and arrived in the place which would become known as “base camp,” and it was good. In the following 3 days spent here, the bonds of friendship would be forever forged between our lovable crew and members of the US Forest Service: Magnificent Clancy, Illustrious Jess, Noble Katie, even Fair Eric, and of course, the Wondrous canines Brave Murphy and Soft Mika. These guardians and stewards who serve the forest did instill in our reluctant and relatively ‘green’ crew the values of excellent communication, superb teamwork, and remembering to look “up, down, and all around” when encountering any new situation.
There were many trees felled that trip, and one junk rock wall was built. On the fourth day our crew encountered a mass of trees so dense and foul that Magnificent Clancy dubbed it “The S***” and it was to be cleared completely. So it was declared, and so it was to be done. In the 3 days spent with the Forest Service, our heroes cleared a full 9350 feet of trail, and made significant headway into the worst of it. Along the way, philosophy discussed, laughter was had, and dice were rolled. (Have you ever played Farkle? It is a thing of marvel.) All in all, it was one of the most enjoyable backcountry experiences our intrepid young explorers weathered thus far. Only after returning from the wild did they receive what was to be the worst shock yet: the superhuman Herm had succumbed to a tragic tear of his divine meniscus (that’s in the knee) and several months of physical therapy were required for the healing to properly commence. And so with a heavy heart the crew members bid him a fond farewell, as the sun set on his journey for the summer.
And that friends, is the tale of hitch four, filled with both joys and incredible sadness. Herm will be missed for sure, just as Melissa before him. But take heart dear readers, for the summer is not even half done, and there are sure to be just as many twists and turns in the coming weeks, with more life lessons and revelations in store. So come back often, stay awhile, and listen!

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The Pacific Crest Trail, it’s hard to imagine that this trail spans from the Sonora Desert to the Cascades. Through hikers will walk over 2,650 miles of tread through all types of elevation gains, climates, and elevation gains. People from all walks of life choose to live on the PCT. Like any trail all that mileage requires maintenance and because the PCT runs through seven national parks, designated wilderness areas, and various Native American lands much of the work is done by hand using basic tools.
My name is Ashley. This summer the boys (Matt H, Matt K, Dan and Ryan) and I are one of the trail crews working on the PCT. Our favorite essential tool is the crosscut saw, Heidi. She is a vintage masterpiece. Quality saws like Heidi were one of the main tools that tamed the west. Two person saws, with a decent amount of elbow grease eliminated forests and opened up land for farming. Unlike our forefathers we keep our path of destruction to the trail, in order to limit our impact and allow people to enjoy the wonders of the natural world.
The past week we’ve been working on moving fallen trees in order to clear the way for hikers. In that time we’ve moved 37 trees and hiked over 6 miles into camp with an elevation change of over 2300 feet. Clearing logs is not always straight forward and the amount of strength and concentration needed is sadly underrated. I can safely say that I now have utilized all the muscles in my body. I know because after a few days I hurt everywhere, and I do mean everywhere.
We hiked six miles straight up to our primitive base camp. Our tools were packed in by mules by some of the last professional packers in the state. The mules with their beautiful saddle packs are surprisingly fast. They reached camp before we did. They dropped off our gear and quickly hiked back out, leaving us to set up camp.
No showers, no bathroom, few amenities and a killer view. We may smell like Sasquatch but we can move logs three times our size. Single handedly Matt H and I moved an 18 foot tree that had fallen on the trail. Winds of over 150 miles per hour came through the Sierras at the end of November knocking down a large number of trees. The aftermath of the blow down has occupied most of our time. In some areas there is nothing but fallen trees, too often those trees block the trail, and they stack up like pickup sticks. When we come across multiple trees resting on each other we put safety first and methodically examine the pressure forces at work within the logs. Terri of the Forest Service joined us after a few days and took control of one of the more complicated fallen tree projects.
Besides accumulating dirt, sap, sweat and a few smashed fingers we grew accustom to the long work days, outdoor cooking, the bathroom situation and most importantly all of the tools. My favorites are the Peavey (aka The Claw), the big boy hand saw, and the Pulaski. All incredibly useful.
The last day we hiked around 10 miles. We broke down our camp, worked past noon, cached our tools a few miles up the trail, went back to camp and dragged our overly large bear can filled bags onto our backs and headed out. My pack must have weighed at least 40lbs which is a lot for my smallish frame. Eventually we all made it out and took our dirty selves to Mammoth Lakes. On the way there we came across a large black bear, first one we’ve seen this season. Fortunately we were in the truck so it didn’t bother us. We finished our hitch looking like homeless people at a nice Mexican food restaurant. There were burritos for all, done the California way.

8400' Trail Maintained
37 Trees Logged Out

AFTERWARDS
-Drove until midnight, still no shower until we get to Tahoe
-Woke up at 6am got to bed at 1am. They weren’t joking when they told us this job would be physically and emotionally demanding….
TO BE CONTINUED…….

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Born and raised in Rochester, New York, this refined young man was confined by the concrete streets where the elites ran the East. The West was the best way to escape the clover expressways, a large patch of maple and cherry woods helped Matty Ice find his path, a place he understood. He is now in his third year at SUNY Geneseo studying Geography, minoring in Environmental Studies. The past year he lived in a residence hall focused on environmentalism, sustainability and social justice, where his resident advisor turned him onto the idea of serving with the SCA. He is extremely excited to meet the other members of the superstar Pacific Crest Trail group and hopes his light-hearted mindset helps ease the adventure as they conquer the Sierra Nevada area, smelling of sweat and campfires. May the current generation and those to come appreciate the phenomenal work going to done this summer, GO PCT CREW 2K12!

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My name is Matt Koenig. I was born and raised in various parts of Ohio. Ever since I was young, I’ve been outdoors. Around age 10, I moved up to a newly formed suburb of Columbus. It was a perfect situation; our house was one of the few on the street, with a pond in the backyard and nearby forests so thick it was difficult to move through. In my late teens, the area grew very rapidly. I saw suburbs, shopping centers and urbanization right before my eyes. Ever since, I’ve wanted to get back to it. After graduating high school, I decided it was time for a change of scenery, and moved out west.

I am a senior at Northern Arizona University. If all goes according to plan, I’ll be graduating in the fall with a degree in Environmental Studies. I’ve worked with a local environmental group, the Grand Canyon Wolf Recovery Project, dedicated to bringing the Mexican Grey Wolf back to one of it’s natural environments, the Mogollan Rim of Arizona. I want to spend my life working in the outdoors, ideally to conserve and maintain it for future generation. This is why I am looking forward to working with the Student Conservation Association. I could not ask for a better way to spend my summer.

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The tall tales of Pecos Bill hold nothing but a candle to the grandiose stories told of Ryan Hughes. Born on the golden plains and rolling hills of Eastern Oklahoma, Ryan grew up tangling with tornadoes and wrangling water moccasins. After toiling in the muddy waters of the Arkansas and Cimarron Rivers, Ryan first allowed himself to be called a cowboy upon enrolling at Oklahoma State University. After four long years, Ryan discovered that he had in fact graduated, with a degree in English, and like one of his favorite characters, Huck Finn, Hughes lit out for the western territories. Since he left his prairie home, Ryan has stared down rattlesnakes on a trail crew in the Blue Mountains of Oregon and Washington, his skin grew thick and rough under the blazing sun of the Mojave Desert, he took his licks as a wildland firefighter for the Umatilla National Forest, and survived a winter in the snow at Steven's Pass Ski Resort in Washington. Surely, though, the king of the pokes will face a tough test this summer atop the western ridge of mountains known as the Sierras, however, only the most deserving shall see his wide brim fade into the sunset.

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