Dave and Lexi's 2004 PCT hike

Southern California Part 2

May 14, 2004
Yesterday, we again broiled our brains under the unrelenting southern California sun. I spent much of the day wishing for a cloud. I suppose to folks who did the AT in all the rain last year, that might sound a little odd. Of the 25 miles that we hiked, the last 15, from Silverwood Lake to Interstate 15, had scarcely a speck of shade. The entire area burned last fall- every tree, shrub, and plant was reduced to cinders. Our rest breaks were all quite short since we had no shelter.

Fortunately, there was some water, in little trickles, along the way, though getting it required some hydraulic engineering. Finally, after an exhausting 25 mile day, we found shelter in Crowder Canyon, a scant 200 yards from the Interstate. We slept fitfully on account of the roar of the highway, the buzzing of the high voltage power lines overhead, and the incessant freight trains.

This morning, we woke early and hit the trail by 5:30 in an effort to complete as much of the largely shadeless 22 mile day as possible before par-boiling. We bypassed the McDonalds, which held little allure for us, wended our way through the culvert under the highway and along the freight tracks. Finally, after about 5 miles, the industrial roar faded and we started climbing into the San Gabriel Mountains. The trail was never steep, but with 5,500 feet of elevation to gain, the grade was relentless.

Finally, around 12 miles into our day, we reached the trees. At first just occasional pines. Near our campsite, the ridge became largely wooded with beautiful White Spruce and some of the largest Jeffrey pines I have yet seen. The White Spruce are beautiful. Their bark lower on the big trees is grey and ridged, but higher up it's white, almost aspen like. The needles are a dull blue green.

After 2 days in the sun, it sure is a relief to be in the mountains again. We met a number of other fellow hikers at our campsite; it was good to catch up with some of those folks. Tomorrow, we'll head into Wrightwood to resupply.

-Lexi

May 16, 2004
So, today we have been on the trail 24 days- a momentous milestone for Dave whose longest hike previously was the Long Trail, which he completed in 23 days.

Yesterday, we hiked to Route 2 and hitched into Wrightwood. The town was abuzz with a fire prevention rally, a tacky craft sale, and the library book sale. We bought more food and fuel, took showers, did laundry at the extremely welcoming Methodist Camp, and ate disappointing Veggie burgers. By the end of the day, there were probably 25 hikers in town. Although the Methodist bunkroom was free, we opted to hitch back out of town to camp just op the trail. It was just our second night alone.

Now, I am sitting on top of Mt. Baden Powell. We are accompanied by a dozen or so boy scouts, who have made the pilgrimage. (Baden Powell was the founder of the boy scouts.) They all have gargantuan back packs, according to the leaders, just for practice. Given that one of the leaders is carrying a pack larger than I am, this seems a little odd.

There is also a group of Japanese tourists here each with matching tin-cups suspended from packs by carabineers and walkie-talkies. They have now vanished off the summit, though presumably, the will make good use of their walkie-talkies if they should get lost.

Today has been our first encounter with large numbers of day-hikers. It definitely seems a little strange, more like town than the trail, with so many people about.

From here, I can see the ridge that we'll be traveling across for the next few days. To the west is a gray pall hiding Los Angeles. To the east is the flat dry forbidding plane of the Mojave Desert. In a few days time, we'll have to cross it, which I am dreading.

I feel like we're finally getting into a routine every day. Getting up and hiking 20 miles each day is starting to feel natural. Our feet have toughened up; they are no longer screaming at the end of the day, and our blisters have become calluses. I think I'm beginning to feel like a thru-hiker now.

-Lexi

May 17, 2004
This morning's thin layers of cloud was so unusual, we were sure something was wrong. The air was cool as we climbed out of Cooper Canyon. Oddly enough, at Cloudburst Summit, the sky cleared.

At mid afternoon we stopped for a siesta/dinner at Sulphur Springs Campground. Contrary to our information, the spigots were off, leaving us to filter from an uninspiring slow moving algal trickle.

After a few more miles we dry camped on the flank of Pacifico Mt. The last two miles were slow. Pain in my lower achilles or heel bones was sometimes acute. I hope that plenty of Naprosin and rest at Hiker Heaven will cure it.

-Dave

May 18, 2004
Clammy and cool, we descended through a marine layer of fog/clouds/smog. After a few hours, it burned off and we were back in our familiar sandy chaparral.

Around midday, we passed a trail crew of state prisoners, all decked out in really hot looking orange suits. They were doing a great job hacking through the unruly manzanita, sidehilling the ground, and sweeping away they pesky big cone spruce cones. Several guys asked about the hike: when would we finish, where we camped, and how we resupplied. It was a little peculiar to talk with convicts about thru-hiking. After doing their special crimes, (which probably weren't too horrible; it wouldn't seem wise to set loose maximum security inmates in a national forest with power tools and little oversight) they had lost some freedom, and hiking is all about freedom. Every day you have to decide: where do I go, where do I sleep, what do I eat? When we parted, they still looked a little confused. Perhaps another 20 hikers would help.

-Dave

May 19, 2004
Our goal for today: get to Agua Dulce. It was only 18 mostly downhill miles, and the weather was cool, but we had food on our mind. We've been eating well, and cooking over our new homemade alcohol stove has worked out well, but for folks who like to cook, living without real pots and oven does cause some fantasies (mostly in the hot/melted/chocolate department).

We counted down the miles to Hiker Heaven, the home of Jeff and Donna Saufley, who are the most friendly, generous, and hospitable folks you could possibly meet. We'd heard the rumors and promises, and they were all true. We showed up hot and filthy, and were treated to a shower, bed, and laundry service. Its a little hard to fathom, but the Saufley's have hosted nearly 2000 PCT hikers over the years. There are half a dozen huge tents in the yard, an RV, and a trailer home with full kitchen all for the hikers. The pile of boxes they are holding for hikers fills half their garage. Phone, internet, bicycles, and two cars are all free for your use, just sign up.

On our way, we stopped at the store, and were soon lounging on the grass, drinking beer and eating ice cream. It seems so decadent, but we're tired. Apart from the kickoff, we haven't had a full rest day (zero) yet, and we plan to take a couple. Our bodies need a little healing time, and this is the place to do it. According to Donna, we're in the first 15% of folks she expects this year, and we're a few days ahead of our schedule, so we have plenty of time.

There are probably 30 people here, but its a little hard to count. We're meeting folks we haven't seen in two weeks, and lots of new faces too. On the trail we can be as solitary as we like. For now, its nice to eat and drink well with friendly company.

-Dave

May 21, 2004
In the last two days, we have rested well in a real bed, grilled asparagus, drunk fabulous pear cider, packed up food for the Sierra, and watched DVDs with the latest crew of thru-hikers.

After polling nearly every hiker and musing on bears, we opted to buy Bear Vaults for use in the Sierra. They will be annoying and heavy to carry, but the bears will be safe, and we will have peace of mind at night.

The peak of the entertainment was the video of Raru's unanaesthetized surgery on a 6x15 cm sebaceous cyst on his back, a zit grown inwards. Most people would have opted for general anesthetic at the hospital, but being uninsured, he took the $60 walk-in clinic version. After a 4 inch incision, the doctor squeezed out 4 ounces of chocolate milkshake pus, and pulled out the slug sized pus sac. After a few more zeros at the Saufley's, he'll be back on the trail.

In other news, I weighed myself. I have lost only 5 pounds. I suppose the potato chips and olive oil are working.

Last night, around the campfire, Donna told us the story of how she and Jeff became trail angels. It involved him being away at a bachelor party, her going out for pizza solo, and eventually being guilted by hikers into having her take them home. Jeff came home to mysterious bodies in his house, and there was a good deal of confusion, but after an enormous breakfast, all were good friends, and the Saufley's recognized their calling in life, being trail angels. They report that they plan to remove the trailer home and replace it with a two story hiker house with hot tub. Jeff and Donna are amazing people who love the people the trail creates. We have had a wonderful time here, but are ready to hike north. As much as we need the rest, we also feel restless.

Tomorrow, we head across the Mojave desert. We plan to do some night hiking, but the weather is cool, perhaps our crossing will be easy.

-Dave

May 23, 2004
Having taken two zero days at the Saufley's mostly eating, yesterday we got back on the trail. About 15 people started between 6 and 8 AM, all headed for Joe and Terri Anderson's, where hikers have also been hosted. Nearing the Mojave Desert, there is truly no natural water. Taking personal responsibility for making Section E tolerable, the Anderson's maintain five water caches here, and we naturally congregated at every one.

Nestled among tall manzanitas, their extra special cache is called "The Oasis". In addition to shade and 20 gallons of water, we found lawn chairs, a plastic skeleton, pink flamingo, inflatable palm tree, and an ice filled cooler stocked with soda and MGD. Wow. We loitered a good long time before rolling down to the road.

There, a friend of Weather Carrot gave us a ride to Joe and Terri's house, AKA Casa de Luna. We laid out our sleeping bags under manzanitas in the backyard, washed off some of the dust, and became comatose on the couches inside. Terri heated up vats of refried beans and cheese sauce, and we helped ourselves to heaping plates of taco salad.

This morning our usual 6:30 start was delayed by pancakes with boysenberry syrup, Polaroids in front of the garage, and a raucous return to the trail in the Anderson's dune buggy modified VW bug. The Andersons just love to meet all the hikers, and help them through the neighborhood. Terri said, "You're not strangers, just friends we haven't met yet."

-Dave

May 24, 2004

This morning, we woke up to a pea-soup fog and totally drenched tent. Cold and clammy, we emerged from our sleeping bags to face yet another day of desert hiking. The section that we are in now is notorious for being hot and dry, but somehow it hasn't worked out that way for us!

We made our way through grassy oak woodlands, then descended slowly into the brushy chaparral of the Antelope Valley. The next section of trail ran along the border of a private ranch property. Its route was apparently the result of negotiations between lawyers. Those lawyers sure don't know how to build trails! Even on this often-circuitous trail, we have rarely had a more infuriating section. It seemed to travel up, down, around with no logic at all. Finally we came down to the valley to the home of yet another trail angel.

Richard Skaggs bought the house not knowing that it had, for many years, been a haven for hikers and an important water source in what would otherwise be a 32-mile waterless section. I think he was a little surprised when the first dirty hikers showed up! He has since, however, yielded to the history of the place, and begun to welcome us in. After dinner and a siesta, we were ready to face one of the most dreaded sections of trail: the crossing of the Mojave Desert.

We counted our blessings that the temperature when we left was a cool 70 degrees in the shade--it could have easily been 30 degrees warmer. We then began a straight section of trail (in contrast to what we had this morning) though to call what we were walking on "trail" would be overly generous. In fact, we traveled along the LA Aqueduct. We headed due north for five miles before turning northeast. In several places, we could hear the water running below us in the enclosed concrete tunnel. The noise seemed to mock us for having to carry water while walking over it. We walked with Radar and Beer Snob and tried to keep ourselves from getting too bored! We made a surprisingly comfortable camp between the Aqueduct, a shrub, and a barbed wire fence. Tomorrow, we will continue our flat, straight journey along this water tunnel!

-Lexi

May 26, 2004
After a pleasant night in a ditch sandwiched between the Aqueduct road and a barbed wire fence, we continued our trek along the straight flat road. Around mid-morning, we reached a place in the aqueduct where a spigot had been installed for the use of hikers. We paused there briefly, but as there was little shade, we did not rest long.

After seemingly endless, straight, flat, miles, our route finally became a trail that wandered into the hills. At mid-afternoon, we hit out next water source - Tylerhorse Canyon. We had a siesta there and cooked our last dinner - instant rice with broccoli and cheese soup mix. The boredom of the desert crossing and the scarcity of the water has really caused people to clump up in this section - there were 12 hikers all lunching in the canyon. Our stomachs full, we hiked until dark and made a cozy camp in the hills among the Jack Pine. Another hiker, Side Track, was quite close by.

This morning we continued the desert routine of rise early and hike to the water. The water source this time was a brand new open tank accompanied by a shower! Since the tank was on the side of a ridge shared with wind-turbines and buffeted by a constant wind, it's hard to imagine a situation where the shower would get used.

The path continued to maze through the wind farm for nearly 10 miles. Turbines of different sizes and vintages were scattered across the hillside, and the wind was constant. We descended off the ridge to the road which would take us to Mojave to resupply. There were 5 of us there looking for a ride: Weather Carrot, German Tourist, Radar, and the two of us. Since the road was a limited access highway, we could only hitch from the on ramp. Unfortunately, the road led only to the wind farm, so there was no traffic. Finally an 18-wheeler pulled off the highway and the driver hopped out to check his rig. Radar asked if he would give us a ride, and soon all 5 of us had piled into the cab of the rig and were on our way into town.

-Dave

May 27, 2004
Yesterday and this morning we completed our chores in Mojave: laundry, showers and food shopping. Belies full of fresh fruit and vegetables and packs full of food and water, we headed back to the trail. As the walk from Mojave to Kennedy Meadows will be our longest yet without resupplying (135 miles) and the first 16 miles of the trail was dry, our packs were the heaviest that they've been yet. This, combined with the afternoon sun and the 2300 ft climb out of Tehachapi pass, made for a hard afternoon's hike.

Now Dave and I are alone on a cozy ridge-top campsite listening to the wind blow through the Pinyon Pines. This is the first time in quite a while that we've been by ourselves. Through the previous section we were traveling with quite a large group of folks including Radar, Beer Snob, Weather Carrot, German Tourist, Quijote, Too Obtuse, Bird Nut, Pat, Kim, and Fritz the Cat. Towards the end, we were joined by Plato, Side Track, Southpaw, and Mystic. The whole crew of us was in the Motel 6 in Mojave. The last few days has made me realize that even though we didn't come out here looking for the social aspect of this hike, we are inextricably part of the thru-hiker community. Our numerous interactions, both casual and more in-depth, enrich our experience and that of others. The other day Side-track seemed like she was having a tough time. We encouraged her to slow down and enjoy being out here over just putting in the miles to get to the next campsite.

Plato left today to start a new life as a middle school principal at an international school in Malaysia. I'm sad that I did not get to know him better. These two interactions have me realize how important this community is becoming to me.

Traveling in a group has its down side too though. There is always the pressure to keep up. There is less time for us to be by ourselves, and for Dave to paint. It's too easy to rely on others to figure out the logistics for the day (especially when Weather Carrot is around, who has hiked the trail before). Everyone else is spending another night in Mojave. We decided to leave early in part because there didn't seem to be any point in spending another night there, but also to be alone for a while. It's nice to have a little space just for ourselves.

-Lexi

May 28, 2004
All morning we walked by the countless wind turbines of the Sky River project. The wind roared, the turbines hummed, and we kept our windshirts and warm hats on.

All afternoon we walked through cool maritime fog. I presume that it is usually hot here, but we had a chilly breeze and 100 foot visibility.

We saw no one all day, and are alone at Robin Bird Spring. The solitude is refreshing for both of us, and its nice to find it easily; just leave town at a time different from everyone else.

-Dave

May 29, 2004
I think our thru-hiker hunger has finally set in. It seems like after every meal we are looking around for more food. We seem to be cruising through our lunch food, especially. Usually for lunch we have crackers, cookies, cheese, and peanut butter. Though lately, we've made a concerted effort to eat more healthily. Yesterday we had hard-boiled egg, avocado, and cheese sandwiches. Yum! One clarification on lunch: it starts as soon as breakfast is over and continues until we go to sleep.

Today we descended out of the foggy mountains and are now back in the desert-hot, dry and open. Quite a change from the cold and wet of yesterday. Right now we've tucked behind a Joshua Tree, settling in for the night. The wind is blowing pretty constantly over the pass above us, but the tree is giving us some protection. We're "cowboy camping" tonight, which means we're sleeping on top of the tent, rather than in it. We do this when the tent is too much of a pain to set up-usually because the ground is too hard to put stakes into.

Tomorrow I think we have another hot dry day in store. But soon we'll be in the Sierra!

-Lexi

May 30, 2004
I stirred at dawn, noticed the orange sky in the east, and rolled over. We rose with the sun, its fiery head poking above purple hills and casting an eerie glow on the Joshua trees. It was going to be hot.

We ate demolished Pop Tarts on the move and saw the rusted remnants of several abandoned mines. Dirt bikes had used the trail so heavily that it undulated tortuously. Every five to ten feet the trail sank a foot. The trail bed had been reduced to unconsolidated sand; it was like walking on sand dunes. As we swore, the temperature rose.

Just as we arrived at the next road crossing/water cache, Computer pulled up in a Jeep towing a heavily laden trailer. We found this quite enticing, and spent three hours helping him unpack and set up Robin Bird Pass Resort: his version of trail magic, and home for the next week. Keep in mind that this dusty bit of BLM land has no water, no electricity, no nuthin', period. So he brought a generator, freezer, blender, computer with DVD player, a 15'x30' canopy, and a cooler so large we were barely able to move it. Wow.

Watching the temperature in the sun max out at 105, we loitered a while before hiking on. We arrived at McIver's Spring and Cabin near dusk and found a place for our tent. The cabin was a bit too charred, nibbled, carved, dark, and unloved to be an appealing shelter for us.

Well after dark two dirt bikers roared up to verify that their names were still carved in the correct spot. They grumbled that they had been scratched out, then hollered, "Hey there's a whole bunch 'a people asleep here!" The past tense would clearly have been more appropriate. They soon roared off, ahh, Memorial Day Weekend.

-Dave

May 31, 2004
We had quite a leisurely morning at Melver's Cabin. Since we were again camping with other folks, we had a social, but slow breakfast. We hiked out around 8AM with Mystic and Southpaw, and made good time through recently burned forest to Walker Pass. The campground at the pass was hot, dusty, uninviting, and smelled of burning plastic courtesy of the Memorial Holiday Weekend crowd. Meadow Mary, a trail angel, was also at the pass handing out apples and oranges. After four days of crackers and dried food, fresh fruit tasted great.

Refreshed and loaded up with water, I headed out of the pass and up the long, hot, shadeless climb. On the way up I talked with Doghiker, who had just returned to the trail after a 2 week "vacation" touristing around with a friend. Our conversation reminded me of how different life on the trail is: quiet, simple, self-sufficient, and yes, dirty!

On the way up the trail, we saw several day and section hikers. As I approached one couple, I heard my name, "Lexi? Wildflower?". I searched my brain to put names to the faces in front of me. It turned out to be Leo and Gemini - two folks who we met at the kickoff and who have been following our journal.

Today, even though the mountains we are in are still hot and dry, and canyon pine, sage brush, and occasional cacti are still in the landscape, I feel like we are finally close to the sierra. Partly this is because we crossed Walker Pass, but also because for the first time, I have a sense of being in the midst of mountains rather than just being on a single mountain ridge.

We are one quarter of the way through our journey (at least in miles). All day, I have felt incredible peace and contentment. I think the busyness of the other world is finally beginning to fall away to leave just me. As we settle in for the night, perched on a pass above Joshua Tree Spring, the sky darkens. The clouds criss-cross across the sky changing from gray, to orange, to scarlet, to purple, and finally fading back to gray. The stars are out now, and under the wide open sky, I fall asleep.

-Lexi

June 1, 2004
Facing another hot day, we started early our descent into and climb out of Spanish Needle Creek canyon. Yesterday, I skimped on carrying water up from Walker pass, and ended up suffering a bit. Instead of learning my lesson, I got dehydrated again, and pulled into Chimney Creek Campground feeling a bit loopy. Chuck, the BLM campground host, sold us generic orange soda, and we siestaed until 4:30.

As evening approached we climbed to 8000 feet. The wallflowers glowed in the warm sun. As the sun dipped we descended to the west. Among the dark skeletons of burnt pinyon pines, vivid green clumps of mustard and rich purple groups of lupine were magical.

We had a quiet slumber party with Birdnut, Mystic and Southpaw. The full moon shone stunningly bright.

-Dave

June 2, 2004
Our lunch food situation was pretty odd: honey, prunes, and the last of Southpaw's peanut butter. But with only 13 miles left to the Kennedy Meadows General Store, we survived. I ate all the peanut butter while talking to Porter and Gail, leaving honey water for the home stretch (memories of the CSM).

The .7 mile road walk to the store was hot. Kennedy Meadows has been a goal of ours for months, but the reality didn't meet our expectations. Instead of a lush green field, it was dry sparse sagebrush. Beer and ice cream in the shade of the porch brought us back to life and the open air shower (sunglasses necessary) helped too. After a good bit of rummaging, we unearthed boxes containing our new shoes (aaah!), ice axes, bear cans, and food. The day ended with a barbeque related derailing of the veggie train.

-Dave