So in light of the frequency (or lack thereof) that I have internet access, I'll be writing pretty broad blog posts - maybe something along the lines of weekly breakdowns. If you want the excruciating details, you'll have to come meet me on the trail and buy me a beer! Or wait til after. And buy me a beer. This first one will be fairly winded, and I didn't have time to edit. Shoot me a message if there are any glaring errors or redundancies. Anyway, here goes nothing.
"You guys going all the way to Canada?" said Walrus, the 49 year old from Portland who we've been barely keeping up with. "I made it to Ashland in twenty-ten, figured I'd give it another go." And just like that, he was cruising down the trail ahead of us as we took one last look at the divide between the US and Mexico.
Day One was our hottest so far. We didn't get moving til about 11am, so we were forced into taking breaks wherever we could find shade. Typically we would want to just hang out away from the sun from about noon to four, but we had intentions of making it the whole 20mi to Lake Morena. That didn't happen. We got to Hauser Creek, mi 15.4, as the sun went down and we found a water cache there. Shout out to the trail angels, much appreciated. As I rummaged through my pack I realized I no longer had the physical copies of our maps for the section - must have gotten caught on something while jammed into my outer pocket. Good thing we have phones.
The water report said there was a running creek about 1.5 mi off trail so we only took enough from the cache to get there. Well, maybe we just missed it in the dark, or all we found were stagnant pools of water. We slowly hiked back to the cache and set up camp, an extra pointless three miles under us.
The climb out of Hauser up to the lake (the largest and most remote in SD county, though it looked more like a puddle) was a long, hot five miles so we decided we'd siesta til about 5 and go another 6 miles to Boulder Oaks Campground and call it an easy day. That's when we found the Oak Shores Deli... Banana nut milkshake: need I say more? We found Walrus there with Crow, a little old lady who started from Campo a few hours after we did; and she had our maps. The hike to the campground was no sweat, and we were in high spirits.
Day Three was our first twenty miler. We hiked up out of the low desert into a pine forest that looked and smelled like Tahoe. Now, the desert is much more beautiful than what you're probably picturing as you read this - at this point we'd seen thousands of flowers, all sorts of lizards and birds, horned toads, a tarantula - but going up to Mount Laguna was a welcome change. Sitting outside the little market in town with Crow, ahead of us again, we met a woman who had ridden the PCT on horseback 40 years ago. She, her sister and niece had pulled off the highway just to see if we were thru-hikers and talk with us.
"You guys are a little late!" Which virtually everyone we've come across has pointed out. I gave my standard 'had to graduate' spiel that I'm already tired of saying. "First time?" she said. I said yes, but Crow revealed that this was her fifth PCT hike. They were as impressed as I was, and said they'd offer to drive us to their place for showers if only they lived more nearby. "Who needs showers? I live in a primitive cabin in Washington, I go months without showering." said Crow. Well, that explains why she can hike as many miles as Andrew and I. A few miles of crazy wind through a burn area til we set up camp at mi 47.7.
Day Four was pretty exciting - just after mile 55 I stepped on a loose rock and slid about five feet. I regained my balance with my left foot about eight inches from a humongous coiled rattlesnake. I jumped back and whipped my trekking poles into battle mode, but wasn't even met with a rattle. Andrew and I realized there were actually two snakes, one licking the other, smaller one, all over. The smaller one wasn't moving, we figured maybe it had died and this was either some showing of grief or hr was trying to snatch all the moisture from a pal who didn't need it anymore. We skirted them and kept on after a few pictures (alas! Taken with my point and shoot, not sure when I'll be able to upload). We took a lunch break and another thru-hiker named Chris came up on us.
"D'ja see those rattlesnakes mating back there?" Ah, should've known. "I came across them and thought, 'Son of a bitch, this is some National Geographic!'" We shot some small talk back and forth and went on our way. We saw another huge black diamondback who booked it off the trail as soon as we got within view as well as some other non-rattler. We spent a brutally windy night at mi 68.4 near a water faucet.
The next morning we hiked to music for the first time down through a nice flat plain to Scissors Crossing (77.7) then hitched into Julian for a free lunch, homemade pie and a much needed water fill. Jackie was our driver, a sweet lady who works in the sheriff's office. She gave us a rundown of town history and offered us a place to hang out for the day if needed. We met some Australian girls in town who are out this way doing elevation training - they're relay runners and Olympic hopefuls. And they wanted a picture with us, said we were the crazy ones for hiking the PCT!
Hitching back to the trail took a little longer but we eventually got a ride with Jay, the local propane guy, who was full of hilarious anecdotes about Julian. We wanted to make it to the water cache at mi 91 but after a couple hours of night hiking in vicious winds we called it a day as soon as we found a suitable spot. On day five we passed the 100mile mark and dropped down out of the San Felipe Hills into a vast valley covered in what seemed to be thistle and castor bean. We camped near San Ysidro Creek under a bunch of oaks around mi 105.
The next morning we reached eagle rock, took pictures and our packs off to do a little boulder scrambling. We were eager to get to Warner Springs, though l, where our first resupply boxes were waiting for us. We hung out for a few hours at the Hiker Resource Center, a seasonal stop with food, showers, laundry, internet and, most importantly, a guitar. We met Antonia from southern Australia, as well as Megan and Josh from Anchorage. Threw some clothes in the wash, played some jams and made fun of daytime television. One of the volunteers drove us to the post office to pick up our packages, and we ended up dumping a fair amount of food into the hiker box. The hike out from Warner Springs was wonderful; the trail climbs up into a verdant creek section. We missed a stream crossing and did a little pack-on boulder scrambling til we realized we were off-trail. The detour did result in the discovery house, molcajete (guacamole bowl) made of volcanic rock that was either a Native American artifact or a very strange luxury item someone packed out from Willem Sonoma... We camped in a boulder field at 124 and decided against setting up the tarptent despite the warning of potential morning thunderstorms.
We hiked down a few miles to Trail Angel Mike's house, where we met Strange Bird, Nina and Kushy. We got the last two drinks in the cooler - a Sierra Mist and a Tecate ("we'll just have to tell everyone else 'too late!'" Kushy chuckled, "I'm the full time care taker now, and we had over 60 hikers here at once this season.") We had a hilarious conversation with Strange Bird, and then he started saying how the clouds sure looked as if they were brewing up some lightning. Well, he was right. We hung around for three hours, munching on fresh watermelon and quesadillas compliments of Nina, and hiked out as soon as we saw a break in the clouds to the NW.
We made it maybe a mile before the three systems in the area converged on us. We found a little spot to duck out from lightning and threw the tent over us as it started raining. Then it started hailing. Eventually we decided we'd just brave the weather and set off; we hiked about 17 mi to one of the famous water caches and set up the tent, now filthy from the rain.
The next morning was an easy nine or ten mile trip down to the Paradise Cafe, where we each had a Paradise Valley Reserve on draught and ate a massive lunch. There was an elderly guy playing blues guitar on the patio - out there every day - who even played a cover of "After Midnight." We sat across the highway trying to hitch for about 20 minutes til a nice guy named Mike gave us a lift into Idyllwild.
I've definitely learned a lot already: about myself, about Pita, about the desert and about the trail. I miss my loved ones like crazy already. I have a new appreciation for how fragile life is, and how amazing water is. The desert has proven to me all life is purposive: it wants to stay alive! A cactus is proof of that... It's absolutely incredible how quickly you can travel between ecosystems. I won't keep rambling though.
"You guys going all the way to Canada?" said Walrus, the 49 year old from Portland who we've been barely keeping up with. "I made it to Ashland in twenty-ten, figured I'd give it another go." And just like that, he was cruising down the trail ahead of us as we took one last look at the divide between the US and Mexico.
Day One was our hottest so far. We didn't get moving til about 11am, so we were forced into taking breaks wherever we could find shade. Typically we would want to just hang out away from the sun from about noon to four, but we had intentions of making it the whole 20mi to Lake Morena. That didn't happen. We got to Hauser Creek, mi 15.4, as the sun went down and we found a water cache there. Shout out to the trail angels, much appreciated. As I rummaged through my pack I realized I no longer had the physical copies of our maps for the section - must have gotten caught on something while jammed into my outer pocket. Good thing we have phones.
The water report said there was a running creek about 1.5 mi off trail so we only took enough from the cache to get there. Well, maybe we just missed it in the dark, or all we found were stagnant pools of water. We slowly hiked back to the cache and set up camp, an extra pointless three miles under us.
The climb out of Hauser up to the lake (the largest and most remote in SD county, though it looked more like a puddle) was a long, hot five miles so we decided we'd siesta til about 5 and go another 6 miles to Boulder Oaks Campground and call it an easy day. That's when we found the Oak Shores Deli... Banana nut milkshake: need I say more? We found Walrus there with Crow, a little old lady who started from Campo a few hours after we did; and she had our maps. The hike to the campground was no sweat, and we were in high spirits.
Day Three was our first twenty miler. We hiked up out of the low desert into a pine forest that looked and smelled like Tahoe. Now, the desert is much more beautiful than what you're probably picturing as you read this - at this point we'd seen thousands of flowers, all sorts of lizards and birds, horned toads, a tarantula - but going up to Mount Laguna was a welcome change. Sitting outside the little market in town with Crow, ahead of us again, we met a woman who had ridden the PCT on horseback 40 years ago. She, her sister and niece had pulled off the highway just to see if we were thru-hikers and talk with us.
"You guys are a little late!" Which virtually everyone we've come across has pointed out. I gave my standard 'had to graduate' spiel that I'm already tired of saying. "First time?" she said. I said yes, but Crow revealed that this was her fifth PCT hike. They were as impressed as I was, and said they'd offer to drive us to their place for showers if only they lived more nearby. "Who needs showers? I live in a primitive cabin in Washington, I go months without showering." said Crow. Well, that explains why she can hike as many miles as Andrew and I. A few miles of crazy wind through a burn area til we set up camp at mi 47.7.
Day Four was pretty exciting - just after mile 55 I stepped on a loose rock and slid about five feet. I regained my balance with my left foot about eight inches from a humongous coiled rattlesnake. I jumped back and whipped my trekking poles into battle mode, but wasn't even met with a rattle. Andrew and I realized there were actually two snakes, one licking the other, smaller one, all over. The smaller one wasn't moving, we figured maybe it had died and this was either some showing of grief or hr was trying to snatch all the moisture from a pal who didn't need it anymore. We skirted them and kept on after a few pictures (alas! Taken with my point and shoot, not sure when I'll be able to upload). We took a lunch break and another thru-hiker named Chris came up on us.
"D'ja see those rattlesnakes mating back there?" Ah, should've known. "I came across them and thought, 'Son of a bitch, this is some National Geographic!'" We shot some small talk back and forth and went on our way. We saw another huge black diamondback who booked it off the trail as soon as we got within view as well as some other non-rattler. We spent a brutally windy night at mi 68.4 near a water faucet.
The next morning we hiked to music for the first time down through a nice flat plain to Scissors Crossing (77.7) then hitched into Julian for a free lunch, homemade pie and a much needed water fill. Jackie was our driver, a sweet lady who works in the sheriff's office. She gave us a rundown of town history and offered us a place to hang out for the day if needed. We met some Australian girls in town who are out this way doing elevation training - they're relay runners and Olympic hopefuls. And they wanted a picture with us, said we were the crazy ones for hiking the PCT!
Hitching back to the trail took a little longer but we eventually got a ride with Jay, the local propane guy, who was full of hilarious anecdotes about Julian. We wanted to make it to the water cache at mi 91 but after a couple hours of night hiking in vicious winds we called it a day as soon as we found a suitable spot. On day five we passed the 100mile mark and dropped down out of the San Felipe Hills into a vast valley covered in what seemed to be thistle and castor bean. We camped near San Ysidro Creek under a bunch of oaks around mi 105.
The next morning we reached eagle rock, took pictures and our packs off to do a little boulder scrambling. We were eager to get to Warner Springs, though l, where our first resupply boxes were waiting for us. We hung out for a few hours at the Hiker Resource Center, a seasonal stop with food, showers, laundry, internet and, most importantly, a guitar. We met Antonia from southern Australia, as well as Megan and Josh from Anchorage. Threw some clothes in the wash, played some jams and made fun of daytime television. One of the volunteers drove us to the post office to pick up our packages, and we ended up dumping a fair amount of food into the hiker box. The hike out from Warner Springs was wonderful; the trail climbs up into a verdant creek section. We missed a stream crossing and did a little pack-on boulder scrambling til we realized we were off-trail. The detour did result in the discovery house, molcajete (guacamole bowl) made of volcanic rock that was either a Native American artifact or a very strange luxury item someone packed out from Willem Sonoma... We camped in a boulder field at 124 and decided against setting up the tarptent despite the warning of potential morning thunderstorms.
We hiked down a few miles to Trail Angel Mike's house, where we met Strange Bird, Nina and Kushy. We got the last two drinks in the cooler - a Sierra Mist and a Tecate ("we'll just have to tell everyone else 'too late!'" Kushy chuckled, "I'm the full time care taker now, and we had over 60 hikers here at once this season.") We had a hilarious conversation with Strange Bird, and then he started saying how the clouds sure looked as if they were brewing up some lightning. Well, he was right. We hung around for three hours, munching on fresh watermelon and quesadillas compliments of Nina, and hiked out as soon as we saw a break in the clouds to the NW.
We made it maybe a mile before the three systems in the area converged on us. We found a little spot to duck out from lightning and threw the tent over us as it started raining. Then it started hailing. Eventually we decided we'd just brave the weather and set off; we hiked about 17 mi to one of the famous water caches and set up the tent, now filthy from the rain.
The next morning was an easy nine or ten mile trip down to the Paradise Cafe, where we each had a Paradise Valley Reserve on draught and ate a massive lunch. There was an elderly guy playing blues guitar on the patio - out there every day - who even played a cover of "After Midnight." We sat across the highway trying to hitch for about 20 minutes til a nice guy named Mike gave us a lift into Idyllwild.
I've definitely learned a lot already: about myself, about Pita, about the desert and about the trail. I miss my loved ones like crazy already. I have a new appreciation for how fragile life is, and how amazing water is. The desert has proven to me all life is purposive: it wants to stay alive! A cactus is proof of that... It's absolutely incredible how quickly you can travel between ecosystems. I won't keep rambling though.
