Prologue 3 ~ Page 11
I also came across the name of another who rightfully should be called the Father of the Pacific Crest Trail: Warren Rogers. A YMCA director inspired by Clarke's dream, he organized a relay of young hikers who explored the complete system between 1935 and 1939. Interesting as it was to read the account of this project, and to find that the trail and I were 'born' in '39, the information really wasn't too helpful, as place names had been changed, and roads had replaced much of their trail. So, really, all I had to work with were general descriptions such as "Mt. Gleason to Soledad Canyon. Carry water." And, a trailhead, Campo, California, which though it was many miles away from the red line on the 'trail' map, today is officially recognized as the starting point.
The next step was to buy the very accurate U. S. Geographic Survey topographical maps—a collection of 150 that were well worth the $75 they cost. Using forest service maps as a back-up, and laying everything out on the floor, we tried to trace a trailway through. For California this took a solid week of having Bernice read the outdated trail guide—"from Sheep Rock to Detters Camp"—while James searched through his stack of maps, and I, mine, for a way from point to point. Sometimes we agreed: often not. "How about following Whiskey Creek, up Deadman's Ridge, to Grizzly Meadow?"
"Noooo way. There is a trail leading into Deep Water Crossing, but that's all, no bridge, and the other side is a cliff."
By the time we had worked our way north to Oregon we were delighted to find that the Pacific Northwest Region, U.S. Forest Service, had published brochures that listed every detail of the Oregon Skyline Trail and Washington Cascade Crest, including the best camps with horsefeed.
It really didn't matter to us then that it would take 150 miles of cross-country travel to make the connection from California. We had a route!
So, trailering two horses, stowing all our equipment, James, and Barry Jr. in the back of our old pick-up, and myself, Bernice, Bernadette, and Colette crowded in front, we drove away from a life we knew, into the unknown.
The next step was to buy the very accurate U. S. Geographic Survey topographical maps—a collection of 150 that were well worth the $75 they cost. Using forest service maps as a back-up, and laying everything out on the floor, we tried to trace a trailway through. For California this took a solid week of having Bernice read the outdated trail guide—"from Sheep Rock to Detters Camp"—while James searched through his stack of maps, and I, mine, for a way from point to point. Sometimes we agreed: often not. "How about following Whiskey Creek, up Deadman's Ridge, to Grizzly Meadow?"
"Noooo way. There is a trail leading into Deep Water Crossing, but that's all, no bridge, and the other side is a cliff."
By the time we had worked our way north to Oregon we were delighted to find that the Pacific Northwest Region, U.S. Forest Service, had published brochures that listed every detail of the Oregon Skyline Trail and Washington Cascade Crest, including the best camps with horsefeed.
It really didn't matter to us then that it would take 150 miles of cross-country travel to make the connection from California. We had a route!
So, trailering two horses, stowing all our equipment, James, and Barry Jr. in the back of our old pick-up, and myself, Bernice, Bernadette, and Colette crowded in front, we drove away from a life we knew, into the unknown.
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Text and Photographs © Barry Murray 1971-2007 Mac&Murray Multimedia