Skunk Trail (Sunday)

I went to sleep Saturday night, my body in agony, but it's amazing how much it seems to heal overnight after a good sleep. Spillz was up by 6:00am, starting her morning coffee. She mentioned having a "trail sleep." That's basically when you fall into a deep sleep, and maybe wake up once to use the bathroom, but are otherwise thoroughly unconscious the entire night. I wasn't so lucky, waking up several times to twist and turn.

We were hiking the tracks by 6:45am. I love hiking in the morning, when the body and mind are refreshed and energized for the day. If the Skunk Train tracks were longer, I could see one developing a love/hate relationship with them the same as one does on a long distance trail.

There were still several long bridges to cross this particular day. We had about 17 more miles to get to Ft. Bragg, and then had the problem of finding our way back to my vehicle in Willits. We estimated arriving in Ft. Bragg by 2:00pm.

One cool thing about the trail is that it had mile markers. They are designed for the train obviously, but it made our calculations much easier. We were making good time.

Again we passed several random railroad contraptions, and homes with 4th of July decorations.

For the most part, it seemed folks were suspicious of us walking down the tracks. A hearty wave or hello, seemed to disarm stares or questionable looks however.

The morning's hike went without incident until we reached Company Ranch. At this point, several loose dogs barked and growled upon our arrival.

It was also one of the rare times I was hiking in front of Spillz, she being the stronger hiker. I was a little concerned how the dogs would react to her since I was the first to pass by. A couple of minutes later she described having to tell one of the owners to call their dog off. Apparently, a boxer locked on to her with it's gaze and it wasn't clear whether it was friendly or not.

Fortunately, we passed without a major incident and returned to the coolness of the shady Redwood forest.

According to my train schedule, the steam engine was due to arrive around 10:15 or so. We could hear it in the distance, but still had to be very careful not to get caught on the middle of a bridge when it arrived.

Again, around mile twelve, my body began to cry out, "Why are you doing this to me!" We stopped for a break just before this long tunnel pictured above. There was a pipe to the right that was making a lot of noise. We knew the steam engine was due to return in the next 30 to 60 minutes. The tunnel was long enough that we did not want to make the mistake of walking through if the train was coming around the bend. We tried to listen, but the pipe was making so much noise it was impossible to tell whether it was a train or not.

We basically had to make a decision based on our brains rather than our senses. The train was not due to arrive yet, but who could really be sure? We decided to go for it. It was a long couple of minutes to walk all the way through, I had to look over my shoulder several times. The floor was covered with a slick coating of mud. I could imagine seeing the headlight coming around the corner and then having to make a mad dash. Thankfully, it never came to that, and we were soon back in the glaring sunshine, heading towards Ft. Bragg.

As we got closer to the coast, the vegetation began to change a bit, we passed some homeless camps, and saw a few stragglers walking down the tracks.

One more mile to go and it was only 12:15pm. Spillz and I were making good time.

We arrived in Ft. Bragg shortly after 12:30, and the pressure to get home in a timely manner began to mount. Spillz walked directly to the brewery to get a pen and paper to make a sign for our hitch to Willits.

After making our sign, we walked the final 3 minutes to the Ft. Bragg Skunk Train Depot for a FAIL of a victory photo. Now, phase two of the adventure.

We were still three miles from the 20 which would take us directly to Willits. Neither one of us wanted to walk the extra 3 miles, but I was a little worried that few people would be willing to stop for us in town to get us to the 20. Some roads feel better than others, and this one did not feel right to me. Anyhow, Spillz put out her thumb while we walked, and I looked for someone approachable to ask for a ride. Thankfully we walked right past a gas station and the first couple I asked for a ride thankfully said yes. They seemed a little leery, but I told them we just needed a ride 3 miles down the road to the 20. They were a nice couple from Berkley, and dropped us off before continuing their journey farther south. One down, one to go.

When we arrived at the 20, we found a good spot and needed a ride the 35 miles or so to Willits. Spillz held out her sign and I stuck out my thumb. It only took about 5 minutes before a woman and her daughter stopped to pick us up.
"I don't usually stop for hitchhikers, but you guys seemed OK," she said.
I started to think that this was too easy.
"I can give you a ride about half way," she said.

It was a pleasant ride, and conversation was easy to come by, despite having to yell over the Christian music that was blasting from the back seat speakers. After arriving at the half way point, she dropped Spillz and I off. We had about 15 miles to get to Willits. It was much warmer inland, and Spillz and I went back to hitching. Again, Spillz held the sign while I stuck out my thumb. We had no luck for the first 45 minutes. Spillz decided to make a sign that said, "Have Gas $." Eventually, a car pulled up going the opposite direction and said,

"You might have better luck a minute up the road. There is a large pull off area with bathrooms."
With that advice, Spillz and I picked up our packs and started walking down the road.

All of a sudden, this huge pickup came barrelling down the road, and swerved in front of us, nearly running us over.

"Throw your stuff in the back!" the man yelled.
As soon as I looked the man in the eye, I had a feeling that this was going to be a risk. His female companion invited us into the cab, and Spillz and I got in. All of a sudden, the man slammed on the accelerator and we were off.
"They call me Scrooge!" the man screamed over the squealing of the tires.
Spillz and I held on for dear life. We proceeded to take the 20's hair pin turns at at least 80 miles an hour. While Scrooge slammed the pickup into gear he screamed and twitched,
"If I was picked up by someone like me, I probably punch myself in the face!!!"
Spillz began to yell, "I'm going to get sick!"
I couldn't tell if she was really going to get sick or she was scared.
Scrooge proceeded to yell over his female companion, "I feen for crank like an animal!"
Oh no, this was getting real bad. I tried my best to change the subject and talk about cars, but I had to yell over the wind, the talking, and the ever present squealing tires.
"I only have about 15 pounds of pressure in my right front tire!" Scrooge barked after taking another sharp left turn in the wrong lane.
With only 6 miles to go to get to Willits, someone in the car mentioned the KOA, which was about two miles before town.
"Drop us off there!" Spillz yelled.
After a frightening 4 extra miles, Scrooge screeched into the KOA, made one last comment about "flipping cars," and let us out. Spillz grabbed the packs while I asked for a picture.

We walked the last two miles back to Willits trying to process what had just happened. We both agreed it was THE. WORST. RIDE. EVER. My car was unscathed in the parking lot, the keys were exactly where we had left them. We drove back to Ft. Bragg where Spillz's car was also unscathed and waiting. Our adventure was coming to a close, but it seemed to present more questions than answers. After eating some pizza at the Ft. Bragg Pizza Factory, Spillz began her drive back to Sacramento, while I returned to Ukiah, not after picking up a young couple hitching the same road we had just been on a couple hours earlier. It seemed the only way I could think of to restore some balance that had been lost...

Skunk Trail (Saturday)

After waking up, Spillz drank her morning coffee and we packed up our wet gear and walked back to my car. We still had to drive back to Willits where we would start our trek. First, gas station coffee called my name.

Eventually, we made it to Willits and I parked my car in the vacant Skunk Train Depot parking lot. We cleaned out the car, put on our hiking uniforms, and were ready to hit the tracks at 8:30. We still had 25 miles planned for the day, so we had to get going.

First, the tracks arch around the town of Willits and then eventually leave town altogether. My pack felt good, legs and body felt good. I was happy to be walking again.

We began our only climb of the trip towards Summit tunnel. It really didn't seem like a climb at all. However, it was clear that it was going to be a hot day. Already the sun was beating down on us like a dictator.

Here, just outside Willits, we walked past a Lumber Yard, several dilapidated buildings, saw some deer, a cat, and some cows and sheep.

The first Skunk motorcar passed us early in the morning. Thankfully, I remembered to bring a train schedule which proved to be very important, especially later the next day. I still hadn't taken the time to read it so this Motorcar took us by surprise.

Along the way, there were several pieces of old train equipment in various spots. For a train enthusiast, this would be an excellent trek. I had no idea what any of this stuff was used for.

Spillz and I arrived at the summit tunnel, elevation 1,794 feet. The tunnel was nice and cool, and it would be all downhill from here. Already, Spillz and I were getting a feel for the best way to walk these tracks. Spillz seemed to prefer walking directly down the middle. I tended to wander back and forth, spending most of my time on the outside of the tracks in the rocks and dirt.

One of the best parts of the hike were the trees. Towering Redwoods grew alongside the tracks and kept us shaded throughout the day. It was a huge blessing because temperatures were reaching mid to upper 90's inland.

"Hiker hunger" wasn't really an issue either. I brought way too much food, remembering days on the PCT where I just couldn't eat enough. My body has been civilized and it probably would take a few weeks before the real hunger pangs would set in. The heat of the day also probably contributed to my lack of an appetite.

Another added bonus to this hike was that water was plentiful. The tracks follow the Noyo River all the way to the ocean. Spillz used her Katadyn water filter and I used Aqua Mira drops. The water wasn't as pure as some of the springs along the PCT, but it did the job nonetheless. Along the way, there were lots of random pieces of steel and wood that one would expect to find along railroad tracks.

By the 12th mile, my body seemed to crash. It was disappointing to realize that my old hiking body was indeed gone. Spillz on the other hand, continued to hike strong throughout the day. Since it was still early afternoon, and we had several miles to go, I lowered my head and continued to push on.

There were several residences along the tracks, houses only accessible by long dirt roads, as no paved roads are in this area. Many of the homes decorated their backyards for the folks who ride the Skunk Train. For Spillz and I, it added a little extra personality to the hike, and to walk past them, allowed us to appreciate them a little more I think.

There were 30 railroad bridges we walked over. At first, we just walked over them. The more we did so, we began to realize how dangerous they could be. There were huge gaps in the wood, making footing difficult at times. Also, several of them were at least 40 feet above the river. To make things worse, often times the beams were rotting, and God forbid if a train happened to barrel along while in the middle. Several of the bridges were quite long.

Around the 21st mile, I saw Spillz sitting on the tracks taking a break.

"I just came to a terrible realization," she said.

"What?" I asked.
"I locked my keys in your car!"

To be fair, it was not all her fault. While in Willits, I saw her keys on the front seat and asked, "Do you want me to put these in the glove box?" It was an honest mistake, and I didn't think of it either. So, we were now going to have to hitch back to Willits, but that was a problem for the next day. For now, we found a nice place to stealth camp at a place called camp Noyo. 23.5 miles hiked. Not bad. Mosquitoes were horrendous, but thankfully disappeared once it got dark. After dinner, we both fell fast asleep.

Skunk Trail (Friday Night)

Spillz arrived at my place Friday night around 9:00pm. We still had to drop one of the cars off in Ft. Bragg, a 3 hour round trip. My thought was to drop one of the vehicles off, and then spend the night in Ukiah, and begin our trip early the next morning. Spillz suggested spending the night by the trail. Of course, it's not really a trail, it's a train station. Spillz suggested spending the night somewhere in Ft. Bragg, and then driving to Willits the next morning and getting started. Sounded good to me, so I got into my car, and Spillz got into hers, and we drove an hour and a half to Ft. Bragg. We dropped Spillz' s car off in front of the Ft. Bragg library and then decided to look for a place to stealth camp. I had a couple places in mind, but parking the car might be an issue. It turned out not to be a problem at all. We parked near the Glass Beach trail head, grabbed our packs and headed for the bluffs for a night of stealth camping. The sky was surprisingly clear, and we found a spot right near the edge of the bluffs. The tide was high and waves were pounding just below us. Both of us were exhausted from driving all day so we immediately fell asleep. I woke up numerous times in the middle of the night mostly due to pre hike excitement, and also I was a little worried about the amount of condensation that was beginning to appear on the outside of my sleeping bag. Anyhow, I woke up around 6:30am and Spillz was already drinking her morning coffee.

Skunk Trail July 2011

Since moving to Ukiah, I have been wanting to hike the length of the Skunk Train Railroad route which is a 40 mile section of train track from Willits to Ft. Bragg. I was inspired by the blog of Ron Bloomquist who writes Walking Fort Bragg who has already hiked the route and has documented his trip through pictures. Also, driving to the coast several times a week for work has made me familiar with the two towns, as well as the popularity of the train amongst families and tourists in the area. It seemed like a good way to learn a little more about the area I'm living in. I put the trip together last minute last week. Since I had a three day weekend for the 4th of July, the timing seemed right.. I mentioned the trip to one of my PCT friends named Spillz when she came to visit in January. She also wanted to hike it, so I sent her an invite last week. She accepted and our adventure began Friday night...

Change in the Weather

We've had a break the last couple days from the hot temperatures that enveloped the area recently. A storm blew in from the north bringing rain and cooler temperatures.

I drove out to Ft. Bragg for work but had a sudden cancellation. I had my sweatshirt, rain jacket, camera, some time, and the willingness to walk, so I headed out to the bluffs.

It was an exceptional hike. As many wildflowers are transforming into seeds or whatever they turn into, several other wildflowers are coming into being and taking center stage.

Having the proper layers allowed for maximum enjoyment despite the drizzle and rain.

Half way through the hike, I arrived at a state park restroom. When I opened the door to the restroom, I had an instant PCT flashback.

While hiking through Washington, Indie and I spent one particular cold and rainy day hiking into Mt. Rainer National Park. The trail went through a small part of the park, and crossed a road where there was a parking lot and your typical unisex, pit toilet restrooms.

There, inside this nasty public restroom, was a moment of nirvana. I'd never been so happy to be out of the elements for a few minutes, to have a seat, to enjoy a couple of degrees of extra warmth.

After using the facilities, I told Indie these were the moments and stories we were most likely to tell our friends, girlfriends, wives, family members, nieces and nephews, grandchildren and to you the blog readers in the months and years after the hike. We most likely would tell these stories and receive the rolling of eyes, or blank stares, or quick dismissal and change of subject. The grandkids would say, "Oh no, not another PCT story!"

So, I apologize to you, my one or two readers, for boring you with these stories, that simply have to be told for no reason whatsoever, other than they were moments imprinted on my brain for better or worse.

A California Summer's Evening

(Soap Plant)