Goodbye, Bill

 

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The Pacific Crest Trail

by Edythe Hulet

I had done bits and pieces of the PCT over the years.  I did the 77 miles from Rainy Pass ( North Cascades) to Manning Park         

Canada in 7 days one summer with several members of the Olympians. My first hiking club.  That story later.

Anyway, I got the Pacific Crest Journal, a magazine.  I read where a guy in California was looking for a hiking companion for a segment down there. He said he could get a recommendation from his banker that he was trustworthy. LOL

I sent a letter saying I was a teacher and could take some time off during the summer.  No email in those days. I said I would go only if I could climb Mt. Whitney on the trip. He didn’t want to but said I could. Off I went.

I flew to Orange County airport and he picked me up.  I was 59 at the time and Bill was 74.  He had done much of the trail. He drove to Cottonwood trailhead and left me off with our packs. He then drove to Whitney Portal and left his truck, hitchhiked back to me.  Only took a couple of hours.  Bugs were bad and I was sitting in my tent. We packed up and hit the trail. 

Soon we found a sign saying the trail was closed as they were doing controlled burning. Hmmm.  Smoke was faint.  We kept going.  He did not believe in DEET repellent.  He had ‘natural’ stuff and there must have been 100 mosquitoes on his back at one point. They were eating him up. He decided to use my DEET bug spray. 

Got to a place to camp for the first night.  I put up my tiny Moss tent and all my stuff on a big rock…just in case of fire.

Bill apparently thought I’d be tenting with him and had a new REI half dome ( two person tent).  He had never put it up and didn’t know how.  I had a half dome at home and put his up for him.  Dinner time. 

We got out our gear to cook.  I have always carried everything I need and never depended on anyone else for equipment.  (First backpack trip I forgot my spoon so I carved one out of a stick). Good thing because when he opened his pack his stove ring seal had failed and his fuel was all over his stuff.  Stove was inoperable.  So we used my stove for the rest of the trip.  He did contribute a bottle of fuel so we had enough. 

He was not a fast hiker but that doesn’t matter on backpacking trips. You have all day. I stopped and took lots of pictures so it evened out. Every afternoon there was a downpour.  Hard and heavy rain. A cloudburst. One day we approached a camping area as it began raining. We stood under a tree and looked down at the camp below.  Boots and tents and other items were floating away.  As soon as the rain stopped, we went down to the camp and found a dry spot.  No idea if the other campers found all their stuff. 

The scenery was beautiful.  We were hiking at 12,000 to 14,000 feet so I was getting in shape for elevation.  Bill had problems breathing above 13,000 feet so we camped lower.

One day we met a group that had lost their food to a bear. One of the women had chased the bear with hair spray but he got away with the food.  Crazy woman. Who brings hair spray on a backpack trip?

Got to the Whitney trail and he kept going as the trail dropped steeply to where the truck was.  I put up my tent and spent the night. Got up early and was the only one on the summit or on the trail from my tent. There is a big stone house on top.  It didn’t take long as I wasn’t carrying anything.  Back to my tent, packed everything up and down I went.  

Bill was waiting at the truck.  I took a wonderful shower at the very developed Whitney Portal.  It sure felt good.

Bill decided I needed to see Death Valley.  My plane back wasn’t for several more days as I had allowed for delays on the trail.  Bill’s truck did not have A.C. It was over 100*.  My feet and legs swelled up as I rode in the car.  Never did get my shoes back on until 3 days later.  We did the touristy things and back to his house.  I called the airline and got a ticket for the next day. I had enough of talk, talk, talk with Bill.  

We remained friends until he died 20 years later.  He left his truck at my house when he went on a cruise to Alaska. I drove him to Rainier to see the stuff there. He was just doing short hikes by then. I was doing Sr. Games in Palm Springs and I stayed at his house twice. He wrote a story of his life and a page was about me and our hike.  His eyesight was going. He had macular degeneration.

The last time I was there, he told me and I knew something was wrong because his driving was awful. All over his house he had big signs saying NO HEROIC MEASURES, etc.  He wanted no oxygen, let him go, etc. 

I didn’t hear from him for a while and called to find out what was going on.  He said he could no longer see and had put a hose into his truck from the exhaust, locked the doors and put his head on a pillow on the steering wheel. His neighbor heard the truck running, tried to get in, called 911 and the police got him out.  He ended up in a nursing home with someone feeding him.  A terrible thing and not the way he wanted to go.  I would call and the nurse would relay my message and she said he would smile. That was it. 

They called when he died but I did not go to the funeral. The time to see people is when they are alive.