Sorry for the delay - again, didn't edit, bear with me.
Zero days are pretty fantastic. Idyllwild was booked solid, but Andrew's family has a place down the mountain in Palm Desert and his mom was already heading there, so we grabbed a pizza and a pitcher of Firestone Walker at Idyllwild Pizza Co (no words can describe how amazing that was) and waited for Mrs. Pita to come pick us up. Shower, lacrosse quarterfinals, resupply, fresh produce, pool and hot tub, a real bed - need I say more?
Due to the fire closure, we had to hike up the Devil's Slide Trail to a PCT junction around mile 177. This would have been great had there not been hundreds of boy scouts with giant external frame packs and massive groups of day hikers clogging up the trail. It cleared up a little once we hit the saddle junction so we decided to take the alternate trail that goes to the summit of San Jacinto. It was real hazy at the top, not much of a view, so we didn't hang around long. Filled up at a mountain stream and headed down Fuller Ridge to about mi195. The next morning, Memorial Day, we accidentally slept til eight, at which point it was already pushing 100°. The descent from the Fuller trailhead to Snow Creek Village, a community at the base of the mountain, is only 4.3 miles by crow but runs over 15 trail miles, and neither Andrew nor I had as much water as we'd have liked. At the bottom of the hill there's a bit of trail magic - a house in Snow Creek leaves coolers of ice water, oranges and a kiddie pool for foot soaking out in their front yard. We hung out til about 3pm and hiked the hottest 5 miles of our trip thus far across the flats and beneath the highway in Cabazon to the Whitewater Trail House, owned and operated by the famous Ziggy and the Bear.
Ziggy and the Bear are both in their 80s and aren't former PCTers themselves, just lovely people with huge hearts. Crow and the Walrus had beaten us there and were sitting in the shade as the Bear took down our info and took our pictures for their logbook, then set us up with gatorades, Epsom salt footbaths and showers. We were so beat from the hot hike down Jacinto that we decided we'd call it a day and sleep in their yard on the padded floor and wake up at 4 in order to beat the heat on the hot climb out of Cabazon. The Bear insisted on waking up to make us coffee and breakfast before we left.
"One night we had 92 hikers back here. And we've had probably 200 quit right here on the spot, couldn't take the heat!" the Bear said. We asked if he'd been a thru-hiker himself. "Me? I wouldn't hike it if they gave it to me. Ziggy and I have been doing this for a long time though. Started in the town of Anza. Eventually we had a landlord wanted us to start charging hikers $15 a night, said it was 'better than the Taj Mahal.' I said no way, he wanted to raise our rent, so I said 'Screw you' and we ended up here. A hiker sold his house to help us build all this."
"All this" was a fully padded backyard for camping, glass enclosures to block the wind, a solar shower, compost bins, and all sorts of other eco and hiker-friendly amenities. It's truly a great place and Ziggy and the Bear are special people. We ate some cereal, drank some coffee and promised the Bear we'd send a card if and when we reach Manning Park.
The long climb up above Mission Creek runs right by Mesa Wind Farm, and we were real glad we left at five AM. By noon we'd already logged 15 miles so we hung in the shade by a creek crossing for about four hours as the temperature remained in the triple digits. This was the day we first encountered poodle dog bush... very similar in effect to poison oak, but prettier and much larger. We camped after only five more miles, despite the early progress, and got a late start the next day. It was a rough morning until we ran into Scott and (Tim? Taylor?) who were crushing miles compared to us. This served as motivation and we kicked in the afterburners, making it just 8 miles short of the spot from which we would hitch into Big Bear Lake. Along the way we passed Cienega Creek Ranch, host to multiple bears in cages maybe four times their size. It seemed unfair for us to be traipsing about in their kingdom while they could hardly move. We hoped it was some type of rehabilitation center and moved on until we found a little dumpster with "PCT MAGIC" painted on it, full of sodas and oranges. Score. And there was a couch - with Crow sleeping on it. We slugged a soda each as Crow told us that the bears were Hollywood bears, kept here until needed for filming. She also told us the big grizzly had accidentally killed a man while wrestling.
The next morning was one of the coldest but we packed quickly and snagged a ride into town - not before finding another soda cache a hundred yards from the road. It's incredible how the trail can change your feelings on junk food. There was no one at the Big Bear Hostel to check us in so we went over to Saucy Mama's for pizza, garlic fries, a pitcher of Fat Tire and then ice cream next door. We resupplied, did laundry, ate in town, watched a movie and slept in. Glorious near-0. Once we dragged ourselves out of bed we ate a massive breakfast at the Teddy Bear Restaurant, a place I'd eaten at on my only previous trip to Big Bear, then caught a ride back to the trail with trail angel Papa Smurf.
A 19 mile day put us back down into the desert, but the next day we climbed up to Deep Creek. Deep Creek is known for its natural hot springs - clothing optional. Lots of folks took that option to heart... we just hopped into the cold part of the creek and headed forward. We saw a couple thru-hikers, a rattler and camped near an unexpected water cache just beyond the Mojave River Spillway.
I woke the next morning to the sound of Crow passing us, followed by a hiker we'd yet to have seen. We worked our way through the heat to Lake Silverwood - the trail skirts shores full of jet ski beach goers and fishermen. We made it to the Cleghorn picnic area around two pm, ready for the water and shade. As we sat there planning the rest of the day, a big tatted guy named Lavelle asked if we 'd mind if he smoked there. We said we didn't and got to talking. He was blown away by the idea that people actually thru hike and gave us beer and juice, offered some of the food he was grilling and told us about his life in San Bernardino after getting out of Compton. Not long after, the guy who walked past us that morning strolled up. His trail name is Wilder (because his name is Gene) and he offered to have his wife pick us up after the climb up to Guffy Campground and let us stay at his home in Piñon Pines the following night. We night-hiked just short of the McDonald's at Cajon Pass after passing a sleeping rattlesnake, a 27 mile day.
I had been looking forward to breakfast at McDonald's, honestly, but the experience was just about as mediocre as I expected. Crushed a whole lot of food and set off on the brutal climb up to Guffy. 22 miles uphill through poodle dog bush, plus another 5 or 6 downhill to Inspiration Point where Wilder was waiting for us - he took the day off. Never been happier to see headlights in my life; my knees were shot after two 27 mile days and it was already 10pm. He and his wife were unbelievably generous to us - they gave us beds, let us shower and cooked up a huge meal for us before we crashed.
The next morning I spoke to Wilder over French toast, fresh fruit and coffee. We talked a lot about climate change (and I wasn't even the one who brought it up!) and environmental changes he'd seen in his lifetime. "I can't speak for the rest of the planet, but I've lived here around Wrightwood my entire life. There were always at least patches of snow from November to March when I was a kid. A storm would blow in and dump ten feet up at Guffy; hell, in 1932 Big Pines was considered for the Winter Olympics!" he said. Debra leaned in from the kitchen - "Oh, and all the fatalities," she said. Wilder worked for the Forest Service most of his life - he even helped build the PCT in 1969: he was seventeen and "just swung a pick all day long." When he worked as a fireman for LA county, living in the area, he saw over 30 snow or ice related fatalities. "19 in one year," he said. "It'd snow all across the range, then rain and freeze solid. A couple was coming down the Acorn Trail and hit some ice; people would get out at the turnoff, step up to the edge for the view and just slide off; I hung up a bunch of warning signs: "DANGER, ICY: STAY IN YOUR CARS" but it didn't matter. Eventually I got the highway shut down but that takes a long time to do. This year? Ski areas couldn't even stay open through March. It's so hot and dry, the trees have no sap to defend themselves. Virtually all the pines down here have died or burned - I'm sure you've noticed the bark beetle devastation." We had.
In ways it feels like we're taking what may be the last chance to see the real Pacific Crest Trail. For one, the post "Wild" book/movie craze is going to flood the trail next year through the foreseeable future. More importantly, the forests out here are going quick. We've walked through so many burn scars and have even had to take alternate routes around burn areas; invasive species like castor bean and others that thrive after fires (like the dreaded poodle dog) rule the mountain sides; all the lakes are low; streams that are perennially reliable have been bone dry... the list goes on. The other day an Angeles Forest ranger told us he was happy we'd get to see the Sierras "while they're still green."
Anyway, we took a zero in Wrightwood after chatting with Wilder and Debra for a few hours, complete with pizza and beer and the latest Game of Thrones episode on my phone screen. (June 3rd)
Just before Ziggy and the Bear's
Mission Creek
DO NOT pet the poodle dog
Poor guy
Saucy Mama's
Deep Creek
Mt Baldy
Lake Silverwood
Zero days are pretty fantastic. Idyllwild was booked solid, but Andrew's family has a place down the mountain in Palm Desert and his mom was already heading there, so we grabbed a pizza and a pitcher of Firestone Walker at Idyllwild Pizza Co (no words can describe how amazing that was) and waited for Mrs. Pita to come pick us up. Shower, lacrosse quarterfinals, resupply, fresh produce, pool and hot tub, a real bed - need I say more?
Due to the fire closure, we had to hike up the Devil's Slide Trail to a PCT junction around mile 177. This would have been great had there not been hundreds of boy scouts with giant external frame packs and massive groups of day hikers clogging up the trail. It cleared up a little once we hit the saddle junction so we decided to take the alternate trail that goes to the summit of San Jacinto. It was real hazy at the top, not much of a view, so we didn't hang around long. Filled up at a mountain stream and headed down Fuller Ridge to about mi195. The next morning, Memorial Day, we accidentally slept til eight, at which point it was already pushing 100°. The descent from the Fuller trailhead to Snow Creek Village, a community at the base of the mountain, is only 4.3 miles by crow but runs over 15 trail miles, and neither Andrew nor I had as much water as we'd have liked. At the bottom of the hill there's a bit of trail magic - a house in Snow Creek leaves coolers of ice water, oranges and a kiddie pool for foot soaking out in their front yard. We hung out til about 3pm and hiked the hottest 5 miles of our trip thus far across the flats and beneath the highway in Cabazon to the Whitewater Trail House, owned and operated by the famous Ziggy and the Bear.
Ziggy and the Bear are both in their 80s and aren't former PCTers themselves, just lovely people with huge hearts. Crow and the Walrus had beaten us there and were sitting in the shade as the Bear took down our info and took our pictures for their logbook, then set us up with gatorades, Epsom salt footbaths and showers. We were so beat from the hot hike down Jacinto that we decided we'd call it a day and sleep in their yard on the padded floor and wake up at 4 in order to beat the heat on the hot climb out of Cabazon. The Bear insisted on waking up to make us coffee and breakfast before we left.
"One night we had 92 hikers back here. And we've had probably 200 quit right here on the spot, couldn't take the heat!" the Bear said. We asked if he'd been a thru-hiker himself. "Me? I wouldn't hike it if they gave it to me. Ziggy and I have been doing this for a long time though. Started in the town of Anza. Eventually we had a landlord wanted us to start charging hikers $15 a night, said it was 'better than the Taj Mahal.' I said no way, he wanted to raise our rent, so I said 'Screw you' and we ended up here. A hiker sold his house to help us build all this."
"All this" was a fully padded backyard for camping, glass enclosures to block the wind, a solar shower, compost bins, and all sorts of other eco and hiker-friendly amenities. It's truly a great place and Ziggy and the Bear are special people. We ate some cereal, drank some coffee and promised the Bear we'd send a card if and when we reach Manning Park.
The long climb up above Mission Creek runs right by Mesa Wind Farm, and we were real glad we left at five AM. By noon we'd already logged 15 miles so we hung in the shade by a creek crossing for about four hours as the temperature remained in the triple digits. This was the day we first encountered poodle dog bush... very similar in effect to poison oak, but prettier and much larger. We camped after only five more miles, despite the early progress, and got a late start the next day. It was a rough morning until we ran into Scott and (Tim? Taylor?) who were crushing miles compared to us. This served as motivation and we kicked in the afterburners, making it just 8 miles short of the spot from which we would hitch into Big Bear Lake. Along the way we passed Cienega Creek Ranch, host to multiple bears in cages maybe four times their size. It seemed unfair for us to be traipsing about in their kingdom while they could hardly move. We hoped it was some type of rehabilitation center and moved on until we found a little dumpster with "PCT MAGIC" painted on it, full of sodas and oranges. Score. And there was a couch - with Crow sleeping on it. We slugged a soda each as Crow told us that the bears were Hollywood bears, kept here until needed for filming. She also told us the big grizzly had accidentally killed a man while wrestling.
The next morning was one of the coldest but we packed quickly and snagged a ride into town - not before finding another soda cache a hundred yards from the road. It's incredible how the trail can change your feelings on junk food. There was no one at the Big Bear Hostel to check us in so we went over to Saucy Mama's for pizza, garlic fries, a pitcher of Fat Tire and then ice cream next door. We resupplied, did laundry, ate in town, watched a movie and slept in. Glorious near-0. Once we dragged ourselves out of bed we ate a massive breakfast at the Teddy Bear Restaurant, a place I'd eaten at on my only previous trip to Big Bear, then caught a ride back to the trail with trail angel Papa Smurf.
A 19 mile day put us back down into the desert, but the next day we climbed up to Deep Creek. Deep Creek is known for its natural hot springs - clothing optional. Lots of folks took that option to heart... we just hopped into the cold part of the creek and headed forward. We saw a couple thru-hikers, a rattler and camped near an unexpected water cache just beyond the Mojave River Spillway.
I woke the next morning to the sound of Crow passing us, followed by a hiker we'd yet to have seen. We worked our way through the heat to Lake Silverwood - the trail skirts shores full of jet ski beach goers and fishermen. We made it to the Cleghorn picnic area around two pm, ready for the water and shade. As we sat there planning the rest of the day, a big tatted guy named Lavelle asked if we 'd mind if he smoked there. We said we didn't and got to talking. He was blown away by the idea that people actually thru hike and gave us beer and juice, offered some of the food he was grilling and told us about his life in San Bernardino after getting out of Compton. Not long after, the guy who walked past us that morning strolled up. His trail name is Wilder (because his name is Gene) and he offered to have his wife pick us up after the climb up to Guffy Campground and let us stay at his home in Piñon Pines the following night. We night-hiked just short of the McDonald's at Cajon Pass after passing a sleeping rattlesnake, a 27 mile day.
I had been looking forward to breakfast at McDonald's, honestly, but the experience was just about as mediocre as I expected. Crushed a whole lot of food and set off on the brutal climb up to Guffy. 22 miles uphill through poodle dog bush, plus another 5 or 6 downhill to Inspiration Point where Wilder was waiting for us - he took the day off. Never been happier to see headlights in my life; my knees were shot after two 27 mile days and it was already 10pm. He and his wife were unbelievably generous to us - they gave us beds, let us shower and cooked up a huge meal for us before we crashed.
The next morning I spoke to Wilder over French toast, fresh fruit and coffee. We talked a lot about climate change (and I wasn't even the one who brought it up!) and environmental changes he'd seen in his lifetime. "I can't speak for the rest of the planet, but I've lived here around Wrightwood my entire life. There were always at least patches of snow from November to March when I was a kid. A storm would blow in and dump ten feet up at Guffy; hell, in 1932 Big Pines was considered for the Winter Olympics!" he said. Debra leaned in from the kitchen - "Oh, and all the fatalities," she said. Wilder worked for the Forest Service most of his life - he even helped build the PCT in 1969: he was seventeen and "just swung a pick all day long." When he worked as a fireman for LA county, living in the area, he saw over 30 snow or ice related fatalities. "19 in one year," he said. "It'd snow all across the range, then rain and freeze solid. A couple was coming down the Acorn Trail and hit some ice; people would get out at the turnoff, step up to the edge for the view and just slide off; I hung up a bunch of warning signs: "DANGER, ICY: STAY IN YOUR CARS" but it didn't matter. Eventually I got the highway shut down but that takes a long time to do. This year? Ski areas couldn't even stay open through March. It's so hot and dry, the trees have no sap to defend themselves. Virtually all the pines down here have died or burned - I'm sure you've noticed the bark beetle devastation." We had.
In ways it feels like we're taking what may be the last chance to see the real Pacific Crest Trail. For one, the post "Wild" book/movie craze is going to flood the trail next year through the foreseeable future. More importantly, the forests out here are going quick. We've walked through so many burn scars and have even had to take alternate routes around burn areas; invasive species like castor bean and others that thrive after fires (like the dreaded poodle dog) rule the mountain sides; all the lakes are low; streams that are perennially reliable have been bone dry... the list goes on. The other day an Angeles Forest ranger told us he was happy we'd get to see the Sierras "while they're still green."
Anyway, we took a zero in Wrightwood after chatting with Wilder and Debra for a few hours, complete with pizza and beer and the latest Game of Thrones episode on my phone screen. (June 3rd)
Just before Ziggy and the Bear's
Mission Creek
DO NOT pet the poodle dog
Poor guy
Saucy Mama's
Deep Creek
Mt Baldy
Lake Silverwood
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