For some reason my phone just deleted the longest blog post I've written yet. So I probably won't have anything up again for a week or so because I'm extremely angry
posted from Bloggeroid
Monday, July 28, 2014
Saturday, July 12, 2014
The Aqueduct - ...Los Angeles? (Roughly 530-618)
We woke up covered in ants. They were absolutely everywhere, swarming all over. Good thing we were using our bivy sacks, cause full on cowboy camping would have made for an unpleasant alarm. We had accidentally set our footprint down on an anthill, and the tenants weren't too pleased. We made a hasty escape and are breakfast about half a mile down the trail: that's when I noticed all the whirring white blades, a cross between Boeing wings and ceiling fans. I, with the proclivity for nerding out over all things related to sustainability, was pretty pumped to hike through a wind farm. I snapped a photo of Andrew with a windmill in the background and it was decided - he would henceforth be known as Don Creosote (if you want the full explanation you'll have to track him down yourself)
Also, I've just come up with an epithet for him: the Man of La Muncha. We had been holding out for other hikers to give us trail names, but at this point, having hardly hiked with anyone else, we figured no one was in a better position to name us. Within a day or so Don had given me a trail name too. Such is the origin of Don Creosote and the Bard.
We put in a hard morning of hiking to get to Tylerhorse Canyon, fill up on water and nap away the heat. We ran into Slowmo, Honeybuzz and Emily there, and just as we were leaving we met Ponyboy. The latter three were going to camp there, but we hoped to go another 10 miles or so.
As one might expect when hiking up above massive power-farming windmills, we were met by some serious wind climbing up into the mountains. Just after sunset we hit a water cache around mile 549, stocked with chairs under a big tree. Slowmo was there setting up for the night: "I'm hoping the tree and the stacks of water jugs will give me a little shelter from the wind." We wished him luck and set off with the intention of logging at least five more, but only a half mile away, it was as if the fury of Aeolus was unleashed on us. Don and I were a little nervous about the massive, groaning trees that stared down at us from foreboding angles, and sand was being whipped up into our faces at painful speeds. We threw our bags down right beside the trail in a spot tucked between some creosote bushes and battened down the hatches. It was a long night.
The next day we hiked through more windmills and a pretty stark burn area. That afternoon we hitched into Tehachapi to resupply, do laundry and, of course, get pizza and beer. Tehachapi is an interesting little town with locomotive renown - it is home to "the loop," a true feat of engineering that enables trains to gain climbing momentum. We drove through the main stretch of town and found a chili cookoff and auto show: "This is the most traffic I've ever seen here," said the woman who'd picked us up.
We scarfed down a pizza and headed to the laundromat, where I ran into a girl I knew from a class I took freshman year at LMU. "My fiancé got a job over in Mojave, so this is my new home," she said. "How's the hike? We talked about doing it this year but it didn't work out." She gave 'Sote and I detergent and said to let her know if we needed anything while in town. After stocking up on food we tried calling a bunch of trail angels for a ride back to the trail, but no dice. We ended up having to stay in town for the night and settle for a ride in the morning.
Camp Tortoise is a hiker crash pad in the backyard of, you guessed it, Trail Angel Tortoise's house. We got there around 8:30 and immediately Tortoise got a fire going. Also staying there were First Lady and Mr. President (Don went to middle school with First Lady - Zach - and his little brother in Huntington. Day full of small world moments), Medicine Man, Love Monkey, Rock Ocean and the Dude. Lots of great stories were told, but I'm running out of WiFi time...
The next morning Rock Ocean and The Dude shuttled us back to the trail. My knees were really talking to me at this point so I spent a lot of time with headphones in. The section was really beautiful. That evening we hiked into Golden Oaks Spring - it was barely a trickle, diverted by a sliced half of a PBR can. It was taking so long to fill up, let alone filter, that we decided to call it a short day and have a nice leisurely camp set up and dinner. Not long after we got set up, three hikers came down the trail - Adventure Time, Leeandrea and our old friend The Walrus. We were chatting for a bit when the First Family strolled in. Then the bear showed up.
Just a little guy, just large enough to be on his own and not with an angry mama close behind. He went right up to the spring and drank from the PBR can, then just hung out looking at us for a while. Sadly it was already pretty dark, but you can kind of see it in the picture I took:
So we stashed our food and went to sleep, wondering whether we'd be seeing him again, trying to Yogi our rations off into the night. No sign of him, though he may have snooped around while we were out. The next day I finished listening to Bill Bryson's A Walk in the Woods, which I'd been using to distract me from my knee pain. I'll spare you the review.
That afternoon we passed mile 600 and I had a reality check - I could never make it to Manning Park if my legs were going to feel this way the entire hike. I needed time off to rest and get checked out by a doctor, as it had gotten to the point where I was sleeping in ten minute increments before having to readjust into a position that hurt less. We rolled into Golden Oaks Spring that evening to find the Walrus and Adventure Time. Turned out Walrus was going to be picked up and brought into Lake Isabella the next night by his girlfriend, and they'd be happy to give us a lift. It was nice having a few hours to while away at camp before sleeping, which we spent getting to know fellow thrus Herro and Leeandrea - a former lax bro like myself and a Pepperdine grad, respectively.
We hiked down to a road crossing 14 miles away, where Walrus would presumably pick us up that night. He was spending the day at Willow Springs, where there was promise of shade and water. We didn't want to risk missing our ride so Don decided he'd slackpack (I.e. leave his stuff with me) out to meet Walrus and let him know where I had plopped down. Before he could take off though, Leeandrea came down the trail, informing us that she too was bumming a ride with Walrus - she had opted to trade her 30 degree bag for a 0 degree, but had shipped the former back before the latter arrived; so, yes, she'd been camping bagless the past few nights (no thanks!). She decided she wanted to slackpack ahead as well, so I held down the fort and watched some crazy clouds form and take on sunset hues as I waited (mi618).
We all piled into the rental car around 9pm and booked rooms at the Lake Isabella motel - certainly nothing special, wouldn't recommend it. I called my girlfriend back in LA, who was kind enough to agree to drive out and rescue me the next day. Don and I ate a massive and delicious breakfast at Nelda's in the morning as I worked through scenarios in my head, hoping beyond hope that I wouldn't have to quit the trail. Erin arrived in the early afternoon, we dropped Creosote off at the KOA campground and shot off toward LA (with an obligatory stop at In n Out in Bakersfield for two grilled cheeses, animal style fries and a strawberry shake for me). I got in to see an orthopedic surgeon within a day or so, who confirmed what I figured was the issue: tendonitis in my IT bands. He prescribed an anti inflammatory and 30 sessions of PT. Of course, I only did one session, in which I got myself a nice stretching routine.
LA was a wonderful break. I got to spend a bunch of time with my favorite person, read a few books, catch up on Game of Thrones (that finale!), attend a lovely summer solstice party and eat lots and lots of delicious non-trail food. I definitely experienced some sensory overload though - LA is real hectic even when you haven't been living on the PCT. I felt a bit out of it the whole time, itching for the peace of the trail.
After a week of being spoiled and rolling my legs out, it was time to get back to it. Despite my constant longing to escape the city, I felt a little hesitant to leave Erin again, as well as the comforts of funemployed summer living. Thankfully, Erin, ever the trooper, would be dropping me off at Kennedy Meadows: (mi702) the gateway to the Sierras. Most PCTers claim the Sierras as their favorite section, and I was glad to bypass the last 80 miles of desert for the time being. I figure I might go back and log the skipped miles after/if I reach Manning Park... But that's a decision for much later on.
Real food!
Physical therapist: "Man, you are locked up! How old are you?"
"21."
"This is not the flexibility of a 21 year old... Maybe the flexibility of a guy who just walked 600 miles, though"
"Well... I turn 22 on Sunday, in my defense."
-The Bard
Also, I've just come up with an epithet for him: the Man of La Muncha. We had been holding out for other hikers to give us trail names, but at this point, having hardly hiked with anyone else, we figured no one was in a better position to name us. Within a day or so Don had given me a trail name too. Such is the origin of Don Creosote and the Bard.
We put in a hard morning of hiking to get to Tylerhorse Canyon, fill up on water and nap away the heat. We ran into Slowmo, Honeybuzz and Emily there, and just as we were leaving we met Ponyboy. The latter three were going to camp there, but we hoped to go another 10 miles or so.
As one might expect when hiking up above massive power-farming windmills, we were met by some serious wind climbing up into the mountains. Just after sunset we hit a water cache around mile 549, stocked with chairs under a big tree. Slowmo was there setting up for the night: "I'm hoping the tree and the stacks of water jugs will give me a little shelter from the wind." We wished him luck and set off with the intention of logging at least five more, but only a half mile away, it was as if the fury of Aeolus was unleashed on us. Don and I were a little nervous about the massive, groaning trees that stared down at us from foreboding angles, and sand was being whipped up into our faces at painful speeds. We threw our bags down right beside the trail in a spot tucked between some creosote bushes and battened down the hatches. It was a long night.
The next day we hiked through more windmills and a pretty stark burn area. That afternoon we hitched into Tehachapi to resupply, do laundry and, of course, get pizza and beer. Tehachapi is an interesting little town with locomotive renown - it is home to "the loop," a true feat of engineering that enables trains to gain climbing momentum. We drove through the main stretch of town and found a chili cookoff and auto show: "This is the most traffic I've ever seen here," said the woman who'd picked us up.
We scarfed down a pizza and headed to the laundromat, where I ran into a girl I knew from a class I took freshman year at LMU. "My fiancé got a job over in Mojave, so this is my new home," she said. "How's the hike? We talked about doing it this year but it didn't work out." She gave 'Sote and I detergent and said to let her know if we needed anything while in town. After stocking up on food we tried calling a bunch of trail angels for a ride back to the trail, but no dice. We ended up having to stay in town for the night and settle for a ride in the morning.
Camp Tortoise is a hiker crash pad in the backyard of, you guessed it, Trail Angel Tortoise's house. We got there around 8:30 and immediately Tortoise got a fire going. Also staying there were First Lady and Mr. President (Don went to middle school with First Lady - Zach - and his little brother in Huntington. Day full of small world moments), Medicine Man, Love Monkey, Rock Ocean and the Dude. Lots of great stories were told, but I'm running out of WiFi time...
The next morning Rock Ocean and The Dude shuttled us back to the trail. My knees were really talking to me at this point so I spent a lot of time with headphones in. The section was really beautiful. That evening we hiked into Golden Oaks Spring - it was barely a trickle, diverted by a sliced half of a PBR can. It was taking so long to fill up, let alone filter, that we decided to call it a short day and have a nice leisurely camp set up and dinner. Not long after we got set up, three hikers came down the trail - Adventure Time, Leeandrea and our old friend The Walrus. We were chatting for a bit when the First Family strolled in. Then the bear showed up.
Just a little guy, just large enough to be on his own and not with an angry mama close behind. He went right up to the spring and drank from the PBR can, then just hung out looking at us for a while. Sadly it was already pretty dark, but you can kind of see it in the picture I took:
So we stashed our food and went to sleep, wondering whether we'd be seeing him again, trying to Yogi our rations off into the night. No sign of him, though he may have snooped around while we were out. The next day I finished listening to Bill Bryson's A Walk in the Woods, which I'd been using to distract me from my knee pain. I'll spare you the review.
That afternoon we passed mile 600 and I had a reality check - I could never make it to Manning Park if my legs were going to feel this way the entire hike. I needed time off to rest and get checked out by a doctor, as it had gotten to the point where I was sleeping in ten minute increments before having to readjust into a position that hurt less. We rolled into Golden Oaks Spring that evening to find the Walrus and Adventure Time. Turned out Walrus was going to be picked up and brought into Lake Isabella the next night by his girlfriend, and they'd be happy to give us a lift. It was nice having a few hours to while away at camp before sleeping, which we spent getting to know fellow thrus Herro and Leeandrea - a former lax bro like myself and a Pepperdine grad, respectively.
We hiked down to a road crossing 14 miles away, where Walrus would presumably pick us up that night. He was spending the day at Willow Springs, where there was promise of shade and water. We didn't want to risk missing our ride so Don decided he'd slackpack (I.e. leave his stuff with me) out to meet Walrus and let him know where I had plopped down. Before he could take off though, Leeandrea came down the trail, informing us that she too was bumming a ride with Walrus - she had opted to trade her 30 degree bag for a 0 degree, but had shipped the former back before the latter arrived; so, yes, she'd been camping bagless the past few nights (no thanks!). She decided she wanted to slackpack ahead as well, so I held down the fort and watched some crazy clouds form and take on sunset hues as I waited (mi618).
We all piled into the rental car around 9pm and booked rooms at the Lake Isabella motel - certainly nothing special, wouldn't recommend it. I called my girlfriend back in LA, who was kind enough to agree to drive out and rescue me the next day. Don and I ate a massive and delicious breakfast at Nelda's in the morning as I worked through scenarios in my head, hoping beyond hope that I wouldn't have to quit the trail. Erin arrived in the early afternoon, we dropped Creosote off at the KOA campground and shot off toward LA (with an obligatory stop at In n Out in Bakersfield for two grilled cheeses, animal style fries and a strawberry shake for me). I got in to see an orthopedic surgeon within a day or so, who confirmed what I figured was the issue: tendonitis in my IT bands. He prescribed an anti inflammatory and 30 sessions of PT. Of course, I only did one session, in which I got myself a nice stretching routine.
LA was a wonderful break. I got to spend a bunch of time with my favorite person, read a few books, catch up on Game of Thrones (that finale!), attend a lovely summer solstice party and eat lots and lots of delicious non-trail food. I definitely experienced some sensory overload though - LA is real hectic even when you haven't been living on the PCT. I felt a bit out of it the whole time, itching for the peace of the trail.
After a week of being spoiled and rolling my legs out, it was time to get back to it. Despite my constant longing to escape the city, I felt a little hesitant to leave Erin again, as well as the comforts of funemployed summer living. Thankfully, Erin, ever the trooper, would be dropping me off at Kennedy Meadows: (mi702) the gateway to the Sierras. Most PCTers claim the Sierras as their favorite section, and I was glad to bypass the last 80 miles of desert for the time being. I figure I might go back and log the skipped miles after/if I reach Manning Park... But that's a decision for much later on.
Real food!
Physical therapist: "Man, you are locked up! How old are you?"
"21."
"This is not the flexibility of a 21 year old... Maybe the flexibility of a guy who just walked 600 miles, though"
"Well... I turn 22 on Sunday, in my defense."
-The Bard
posted from Bloggeroid
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