San Francisco Chronicle

Divine help for Pacific Crest hikers

- TOM STIENSTRA Tom Stienstra is The San Francisco Chronicle’s outdoors writer. Email: tstienstra@ sfchronicl­e.com Twitter: @StienstraT­om

When you face 30 miles of hot trail with no water, finding a cooler stashed with bottles of water might seem like a mirage. But there it was, as if left by an angel.

It turns out an angel did leave the water, that is, a trail angel, a self-appointed volunteer who has the backs of hikers.

When you need it, running into the work of a trail angel can feel like divine interventi­on.

It happened to my son, Jeremy Keyston, at the Hat Creek Rim when he hiked the 2,650mile Pacific Crest Trail from Mexico to Canada. The Hat Creek Rim section is routed 30 miles without water, often through volcanic crags, located north of Lassen Volcanic National Park. Yet he emerged after 10 hours of hiking looking refreshed and relieved.

“How’d you get through the rim looking so good?” I asked.

“A trail angel left a water cache where a Forest Service road crosses the trail,” he answered with a grin.

That memory remained vivid for him this summer. Like many who have hiked the Pacific Crest Trail and received help, Jeremy has ventured to trail access points in California on many days to do what he can to help through-hikers.

“What they often want is a ride into a town,” he said. “I’ve given a lot of rides. Some days, I’ll drive out to a trailhead with loads of fruit, drinks or some food. One of the favorites was the day I brought a cooler full of beer on ice.”

This has been a strange year for the Pacific Crest Trail. High snow levels from Mount Whitney to Tahoe caused many to leapfrog the high Sierra and instead sail north through Oregon, and then return this month to California. Hikers from across America and western Europe are now on the trail in Northern California in high numbers, Jeremy said.

The Pacific Crest Trail crosses seven national parks, 24 national forests, 37 wilderness areas and dozens of smaller parks. Millions have set foot on at least a short stretch of the world’s epic trek.

I remember Sonora Pass, where we arrived scraggly, thirsty and near starved, and Ed Dunckel surprised us with a feast: barbecued rib-eye steaks, corn on the cob, salad, oranges and iced beer.

Angels, we learned, don’t always have halos.

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