Big Bear

Hello from Big Bear.

Since my stay at the Morongo Casino in Cabazon it's been quite an adventure. First thing in the morning in Cabazon I walked up with my full pack to the outlet mall to purchase new shoes. I got some really comfortable almost water shoes. I think they are the Columbia Titanium Torrent in red. They are working well. My feet can breathe in the desert. They are a men's size 9 which is about 4 sizes larger than my feet actually measure. There's a lot of swelling that goes on when you backpack and you need comfortable shoes. Don't believe what shoe salespeople tell you. You need shoes that have no possible way for your toes to touch the shoe. You can fill in the spaces with socks to keep the slipping inside the shoe down. Works great this way.

After my shopping excursion I did a long road walk out to downtown Cabazon to the Post Office to pick up my mail drop. I sent back home a lot of the food because my appetite still hasn't been that great. As I was assembling my things like a vagabond in front of the busy PO a nice man made a comment and I jumped on the chance to ask for a ride to the trail. I think his name was Don and he was training to be a bus driver so I got a good ride back to the bridge at I10. I'm sure he thought I was a little nutty when I said that there was water under the bridge there. Yeah, not fresh water, bottled water in some coolers.

I took some water and began the long hot slog through the desert and the wind farms in the noonday sun. It was miserable. Had to be 100 degrees.

At the wind farm there was a sign pointing to water and shade so I followed it and found a hose with hot water and a sliver of shade next to the building. I drank a liter and filled a liter (my new water strategy) and sat for a few minutes. Stupid me. If only I had knocked on the door I could have had a shower and ice cold water and sodas like the hikers that I had no idea were inside doing at that very moment.

I continued the slog. It was the most miserable hiking ever. So steep. It was killing me. I finally reached the top of this little Teutang canyon and started down to a big river called Whitewater Creek. When I reached the creek the trail made sure to keep me far away from the water. I cursed the trail as the PCNWT, the Pacific Crest No Water Trail.

I bumped into another hiker, Joel, and passed him by. I kept going feeling insecure and nervous about this unforgiving landscape with the scorching sun and no cozy spots for a camp. I just kept plodding along no matter how painful. Finally after several miles the trail actually crossed the creek, which was aptly described as a noisesome brook in the guide book. I camped at a nice spot on the other side.

I made my dinner alone and was reclining in my tent when I heard voices. I went to investigate and met 3 hikers. One was Joel. The others were Rizzo and Warner Springs Monty. Monty says my pack is too big and I need a makeover. Perhaps he's right. I keep trying to send more stuff home to lighten it up.

They considered continuing on but ended up camping with me and keeping me company well into the evening. In the early morning I took off on my incredibly sore feet. People get really impressed with the mileage that PCT hikers do, but they don't really realize that you do the miles completely crippled, often in excruciating pain. In the early morning, and only if you got a decent night's sleep, you often have 6-10 miles of relatively painless walking so it's best to get up early as you can and maximize it. So that's what I did. I headed out at 6AM.

The trail climbed over a ridge into the next canyon over, which was Mission Creek. The desert had been left behind but the creek, which had a little riparian shade, was mostly shadeless because of a fire a couple of years ago. The profusion of wildflowers was spectacular and perfumy and the only thing that kept me from committing suicide as I trudged at a snail's pace up the increasingly steep trail. The day was still in the 90s but at least I could stop every now and then and drink as much as I wanted and put my clothes in the creek.

Eventually Mike and Kat caught up with me. They were like hiking machines. I struggled to keep up. I was hiking like an old man just trudging and rest-stepping the whole way. Eventually I made it to my goal, which was a nice trailside camp. I was hungry, as were Mike and Kat, so we all cooked our dinners at about 4pm at the camp. Then we continued on.

The trail became even more steep. I didn't know that was possible. I also trudged even slower which I didn't think was possible. We rose through all the climate zones and ended up in pine forest. Basically that day we climbed from 2000+ feet to almost 8000 feet.

The camp was called Mission Creek Trail Camp and it was full of tents but I never saw who was in them. I put up my tent, which I'm coming to love, between some bushy trees to maximize the coziness. I slept very well.

The next day I feared the Data Book's description of 2000ft elevation gain in half a mile so I got as early a start as possible, which turned out to be quite late at 7AM. It turned out the incline was very gentle and the forest was beautiful and shaded. Still, I trudged.

I bumped into some hikers along the way. Adrien and Kirsten otherwise known as Hawkeye and Danger Prone. They seemed really experienced. I managed to leap-frog with them all morning mostly because they seemed to take regular breaks while I forced myself to death march along no matter what.

At a water cache they were sitting enjoying some lunch so I stopped there, too. I didn't need to take any water because I had plenty but I started snacking on some fruit and nuts. Before I knew it I had eaten the whole bag. But I felt a lot better. Time to trudge on.

Then the magic began. About 50 yards down the trail were some coolers with Mountain Dew, Pepsi, bananas and oranges. I took a banana and a Mountain Dew and powered them down. Now I really felt great. It was left by this hiker hostel in Big Bear Lake. Great marketing. I had been trying to decide if I wanted to make a stop in Big Bear or not and had seen the hostel's web site in Cabazon. The trailside snacks were starting to seal the deal.

With my newfound energy and the trail going very gently downhill I realized I'd make my goal of Arrestre Camp. I got there at about 2PM. Mike and Kat and the other couple arrived there shortly after and there were two men there before me. I rested with my shoes off feeling pretty groovy. I pondered my options. It was only 10 more miles to Highway 18 where that hostel would give you a free ride. I calculated out that I could probably make that in 5 more hours, maybe only 4 since it was down hill. I powered on.

I was running down the trail and bounding up the little sections of uphill. I felt great. I figured if I didn't make it to the highway for a ride I'd at least get close. As 7PM slowly approached I could see houses and things. Then I could hear the road. Then I rounded the bend and could see trailhead parking and a sign and see people. I started running because maybe those were hikers waiting for a lift to the hostel.

When I came down to the trailhead somebody yelled "It's a hiker!" They ran over to me and took my picture and handed me a beer and told me to take a seat in a comfy chair and have some chips and then proceeded to prepare barbecued hamburgers. Eventually hikers arrived from all over the trail, having gotten rides from Spiderwoman's dad who was throwing a hiker party.

The party went on until almost midnight. Many people became incredibly, even falling down drunk. I only had the one beer. I felt too good to ruin my newfound energy with a hangover. It was truly an amazing and miraculous thing to come around a bend and have a barbecue waiting for you.

There was a guy there wearing a funny puffy down suit so I took out my Tyvek hazmat suit which I carry for wind or extra layers or rain. Everybody thought that was so funny they took pictures of the two of us. Clockwork wanted to rename my trailname to Hazmat. We'll see if that sticks. I've been going by Piper since I play jigs and reels on my tin whistle.

As the party went on forever I started wishing they would go away so I could set up my tent at the trailhead and go to sleep. I figured I could get a ride to the hostel in the morning. But all these drunks were pissing everywhere so that option became increasingly less appealing. And some of the folks who have befriended me would have none of it so I ended up crashing in somebody's Motel 6 room in Big Bear City.

The next morning me and my motel room neighbors went to Thelma's for breakfast. It was about a mile walk away. I was very hungry even after chowing down a ton of food at the barbecue the night before. I ordered what's basically a grand slam breakfast. I realized from my experience the night before that I have to eat more whether I want to or not.

After breakfast I packed my things and hopped on the MARTA bus to go to Big Bear Lake, which is different from Big Bear City so I could go ahead and take another night and stay at the hostel. I also wanted to send my stove home. I hate cooking. I want food I can just sit down and eat. So I'll substitute the weight of the stove for tortillas and peanut butter and other good stuff.

I bumped into Gary and Walt and they were going out for breakfast at IHOP so I went with them and had a milkshake and tomato juice. Then I hiked over to the hostel. It's a cool place, just a big house with a lot of rooms and chairs, a coin laundry, showers and Internet. Very relaxing. I'll probably do a little more shopping, relax some more and then in the morning as early as possible get back to work on the trail. Somehow I have to get all the way across Cajon Pass (ugh, more hot desert) to Wrightwood by Friday where I'll meet Tony and pick up my package. Somehow I have to cram 100 miles into 5 days. And I can't roll into Wrightwood after the PO closes or I'm screwed.

Wish me luck.

Section B Complete

I am in Cabazon now, which is at the end of Section B. Part of the PCT was closed near Idyllwild because of a recent fire so I missed about 30 miles of the trail, but still with all the side trips and things I've walked about 200 miles now.

It has been an interesting section. I started off in oak woodland and chaparral, climbed into drier chaparral that looked a lot like how Mission Pine Springs will look in a few years after things start to grow back, then I dropped into low and hot chaparral and ended up at the Paradise Cafe, a famous hiker eating place, on Mother's Day.

I ate the hiker-famous Jose Burger which was about the best burger I've ever had. The meat was really good and had cheese, avocado, bacon, and jalapenos.

I leap-frogged a lot with the nice people I have met so far. Mike and Kat from San Diego, Tex and Karen who decided to hike the PCT through the burn area anyway, and Mark and Jean.

At the Paradise Cafe (wherever the heck it is, I'm not really sure, but about 17 miles from Idyllwild) I got a ride into Idyllwild which is another famous hiker hangout. There was a big sign in the middle of town saying "Welcome PCT Hikers." I got the $3 rate at the campground and free hot showers. Idyllwild is a great town in the forested mountains. You could really get sucked in and never leave. As soon as the Post Office was open I got my stuff and got the heck out. Don't want to sabotage the hike, you know.

From Idyllwild I hiked up the Devil's Slide trail to Saddle Junction which is a place where a bunch of trails meet, including the one to the top of San Jacinto. It felt great to climb a real mountain on a trail that has real climbing. The PCT is so level with switchbacks that go on forever. It's really only 1000 miles from Mexico to Canada but on the PCT it's 2700.

At Saddle Junction many people who have been hiking ahead of me since my 2nd day started to slow down, blaming the altitude. I don't notice altitude until about 12 or 13,000 feet or so, so I felt fabulous and continued on.

There was an option to skip a section of the PCT and climb San Jacinto. I took a pass on that. I can always return and do Cactus to Clouds for that.

I bumped into a guy I've met a few times on the trail named Gary. He hikes very fast. I can hardly keep up with him. I tried to keep up because we were talking. Before I knew it, we had passed the last reliable water source for the next 13 miles or so and were walking along Fuller Ridge in extreme winds and slippery snow. We ended up camping somewhere off the trail in the wind much later and further than I had wanted to go originally.

My tent, which is the Gossamer Gear "The One" is really noisy in the wind and flapped all night long. At least I've finally gotten better at setting it up so it won't fall down. It held, but the scary wind sound in the trees and the flapping of the sail fabric kept me up all night. At least I was warm. Hot actually. The tent, despite all the ventilation really stays warm inside.

In the morning I had only 3 sips of water left and was feeling dehydrated and very hungry since I barely ate the day before. Turned out we were only a few minutes from some water and a bunch of other guys who had camped in a nicer, yet still just as windy spot. I got some water and breakfast and said good-bye to Gary who went ahead to hike his own hike and began the arduous descent into the San Gorgonio Pass, which is the desert bottom.

What an awful decent. I think you lose something like 9000 feet of elevation on these horrible switchbacks that go on forever and ever. At the bottom your reward is a drinking faucet next to a boulder that offers about a foot of shade around it. Everybody cowered from the sun next to the boulder waiting to gain strength for the trek across the Desert Divide.

My feet were killing me. My hiking shoes do not breathe so my feet stink and get really tender when the ground gets hot. I had Tony send me my Chaco sandals and those really hurt my feet. The arches are too high so they feel bruised and I got blisters from the shape of the foot bed on the edges of my heels. I will have to send them home again.

At about 2:30 we began the hellish walk across the desert. You walk in sand following a bunch of posts rather than a real trail. Eventually you walk under Interstate 10 and some railroad tracks. Someone nice stashed some water under the bridge for another brief respite. If I had known, maybe I would not have lugged 4 liters of water across the desert.

At that point I said good-bye to the two guys I was walking with, Clockwork (who wears all orange clothes) and Darren. They went on and I was left to try to figure out how to get to Cabazon for my next Post Office stop.

Here's a tip: Don't go to Cabazon. There's no way to get there from the PCT. I started walking down a road but nobody gave me a ride. I could see the casino hotel from the road and figured it would go there. It ended in the middle of nowhere. I asked a lady if she would give me a ride but she said no and pointed to a dirt road behind a barbed wire fence on the Indian reservation and said that would probably take me there. I decided no thanks.

I hadn't intended to bring a phone but I've found it really handy. I took out my phone and called the casino hotel to see if they could connect me with a ride. I got connected to a taxi service (really low budget one) and they said they'd try to find me. I waited a while and nobody came.

I decided I'd walk back to the PCT because at least there was water and shade under the bridge. Back at the trail I called the cab again. I could see the freeway exit and figured maybe with better directions from me they could find me. As the sun was setting and I was thinking about sleeping under a bush, the taxi found me and took me to the casino at about 90 miles an hour with the car shimmying and smoking the whole way.

That is where I am. I now need to figure out how to get to the outlet mall to buy some breathable shoes and then the Post Office. I will use the taxi again to get back to the trail. All-in-all an expensive stop I wouldn't do again. Next time I'll make Big Bear my stop like everybody else. It only was one overnight from Idyllwild to Cabazon so it's pretty much a waste of my time, unless the outlet mall works out. Here's another tip: Don't put anything you can't live without in your resupply box. I put my guide book section in my box. I could have skipped the resupply if I hadn't done that.

I look forward to whatever comes next. Right away I will start climbing out of this hot desert into the mountains around San Gorgonio Peak, which is huge at over 10,000 feet. I'm not a big fan of the trees or the snow, preferring oak woodland and chaparral canyons with cute riparian oases but it'll be good to get back out on the trail again.

Thanks for reading my posts. If you are family or friends and know my email address, apparently my mailbox is full so I can't accept any email. I'm sorry. I only know how to fix that when I'm at home. And thanks for the comments. I keep moderation on and since I can only get online every now and then, that's why they don't show up quickly. I hope you understand.

Warner Springs

I am here in Warner Springs. I have walked 109 miles, not counting the mileage in search of water and camping places. It's been quite an adventure.

I have a journal I am keeping on paper and I'm in no position to type all of that here. I have written quite a bit. But here is an update.

Tony and I started at the Mexican border on April 30 in the afternoon. We hiked about 9 miles and then made camp off the trail. The border is an awful place like a war zone with helicopters and mean looking guys in trucks patroling the area and scraping the dirt to reveal new footprints. The do all this buzzing and show of bravado within the first 10 miles or so inland from the border. I'm convinced it's all for show. We saw evidence of illegal alien traffic for tens of miles inland.

The country-side is chaparral and there were lots of flowers blooming. The weather was perfect hiking weather. It was really nice.

The second day, Tony and I hiked up to Lake Morena which is a nice campground next to a reservoir that was nearly empty. PCT hikers only have to pay $5 per tent. We got there early in the day after a long climb up and over Hauser mountain. Eventually about a dozen other hikers showed up and we all camped in the same spot. I haven't seen any of these hikers again except for 2 of them because they are all way faster and way higher mileage people than me. The two I keep bumping into are Mike and Kat, a young couple from San Diego.

Tony was going to end his hike with me at Lake Morena and hike back, but when we emerged off the trail there were two hikers having some beer. Tony got a ride back to his truck with them and brought it back to Lake Morena so he could hike one more day with me.

So the next day we headed out from Lake Morena to Cibbet Flat campground which is who knows where. The country-side got a bit more arid but it was still chaparral. Just add cactus and tons of wild flowers.

The campground had a nice creek so we soaked our feet and enjoyed it for a while. Then came the boys. A whole church group of father-son campers arrived. They were noisy and kept us awake until past 3:30 in the morning. To make it up to us they let us have breakfast burritos the next morning.

Mike and Kat stayed at Cibbet Flat with us, too.

In the morning, Tony and I made the long hike up the hill back to the trail and said good-bye. It was a very tearful good-bye. Tony just stood there in the clearing where the trailhead was as I hiked on. I kept looking back to see him standing there looking so forelorn. Eventually I turned a corner and when I had another chance to look back again he was gone. It was hard to see him go.

I proceeded to Laguna Mountain. The country-side had pines and flowers growing underneath. The elevation was getting up there around 5 or 6 thousand feet. I hiked in to my first trail town experience at Laguna to a little store. There were cyclists having an organized ride that day and I got the third degree about why on Earth a solo woman would do such a crazy thing while I was trying to enjoy my burrito and energy drink. I bought a few other things because it looked like I might not have enough food.

I walked back to the trail and hiked up to a campground. It was too expensive. $17 and the showers weren't free and didn't even work cold. I stayed anyway. I wasn't going to pay but Mike and Kat showed up and they felt guilty so I payed for half. The campground was full of young children who were, thankfully, quiet.

Mike and Kat told me that Tony had driven around the area looking for me. I must have missed him when I stopped to cool off my feet on the trail.

I slept well and in the morning I packed up and got ready to begin the difficult part of this hike. At the first opportunity, I loaded up with 5 liters of water in preparation for a potential long distance without water. It was overkill because I found natural water on the way in addition to other piped water and caches of bottles.

At Pioneer Mail picnic area I swapped my too-fluffy toilet paper for much more businesslike USFS issue TP which gives you more sheets for the space. I didn't need any water so I continued on.

I walked along what seemed like a cliff. I guess hangliders come up there and often the wind is wrong and they die. There were memorials painted on the cliff and written on an old guard-rail. It was a kind of scary spot.

The trail got more and more dry, the plants were lower and scrubbier but still chaparral. I could see views of the Colorado desert in the distance.

Eventually I met a day hiker out in the middle of nowhere. He said he had seen dozens of hikers that day, more than he ever had before. I had some hope I might catch up to them and not be all alone. But I never did. The trail was very dry and rocky and not very hospitable. I decided I would walk as long as it took to get to the next water source. And so I did, for about 20 miles.

That spot was Rodriguez Road. I camped there. Another very quiet guy showed up and camped there, too, but I never really saw him. He kind of showed up and then vanished.

The night was very windy and my tent fell down. I put it back up. A hummingbird kept trying to fly inside. I decided I would give myself the trail name "Piper" because a piper is a type of bird and it's also someone who plays a musical intrument. The birds so far have been very important to me, bringing me joy, comfort and happiness as I see them.

In the morning, anticipating even worse dry conditions for the next few days, I went down to Rodriguez Spring and loaded up my 5 liters. It was a delightful spring with hummingbirds drinking the water. The spring was a 2.5 mile round trip out of my way but that's ok. I really wanted to do this without relying on plastic water bottle caches.

I hiked down toward Scissors Crossing which is in the desert proper. A fellow named Jake "Don't Panic" met up with me along they way and his conversation kept the hiking going quickly.

At the crossing, which really was in the desert, but gratefully not too hot, there was an enormous pile of water bottles (which I didn't need since I still had my 5 liters) and a trail register and a guy named Wild Bill.

Wild Bill was hiking the PCT when he got word his mom had died so he had turned around to walk back. I thought the story was a little fishy. Wild Bill reeked of alcohol and that wasn't Gatorade in his bottle. He was a nice fellow, toothless as he was, and he knew a lot about the trail and the trail towns. He talked Jake's and my ear off for a couple of hours as we waited out the middle of the day under a bridge. The quiet fellow showed up and waited with us too. The quiet fellow's name is John.

Wild Bill told us that there was a fire up ahead and part of the PCT was closed. I'm going to have to hike roads around near Idyllwild.

At about 2PM we headed out for a very long climb into the San Felipe Hills. The desert was beautiful. There were cholla and barrel cactus. Wildflowers, too. Eventually we reached a level spot noted in the Data Book as dry, sandy wash. That's where I camped with John. Jake took off for some night hiking. It was another 20 mile day for me.

It was very windy again. It also rained. Just as it was raining the hardest a violent gust came up and knocked my tent over. I had to go out again to set it up. It was bumming me out but the tent is very warm inside so if I can ever figure out how to properly set it up maybe it will be a good tent. "The One" is what it's called. If anyone has one, I'd appreciate some advice.

After a difficult night where I think I slept maybe an hour or two I got up and packed to leave. As I got going there was a beautiful sunrise with the rain clouds and the little wildflowers in the wash. All thought of my discomfort vanished. I hiked on.

Somewhere along the way to the 3rd Gate water cache I did something to my thigh muscle. I had to hobble. It really hurt bad. I started to worry because the pain wasn't going away. I got to the cache and took a soda and topped off my water because I feared I might end up camping somewhere on the trail in my condition. I ended up limping all the way down out of the San Felipe Hills and the desert into Barrel Spring. It was only 13 miles but it was the most difficult 13 miles I've ever done.

When I reached the spring I saw a cooler and a note saying help yourself to a drink from a trail angel. There was no soda in the cooler but I still had the one I grabbed from the cache. The thoughtfulness of the trail angel was greatly appreciated and I stared bawling my eyes out in relief that the agony was over. I was safe, near water and somebody out there understood. I think I cried for half an hour.

I collapsed next to the cooler and watched the birds come down to the spring to drink and bathe. Then I chose a campsite and set up my tent making sure to set it up in a way that it wouldn't flap all night and keep me awake.

Then I took a bath with the spring water, dried my hair in the sun watching the birds. (There was a Western Tanager among all the beautiful blue, brown and yellow birds.) Then I went in my tent and took a nap. When I woke up, Mike and Kat were there making their camp.

We shared tales of our ordeals over the last few days. Then we went to bed. Finally I had a really good night's rest. I looked forward to maybe my leg being ok in the morning.

I cried as I left the spring. I hated leaving such a safe place in such a lovely little oak woodland full of pretty birds (even a wild turkey). But onward I went the 8 miles to Warner Springs. My leg still hurt so I limped the entire way.

Warner Springs is where I am now. I got a room for two nights. It has a hot pool fed by natural hot springs. It's a lovely place. I picked up my packages at the post office. I'll do my laundry, lounge by the pool and just try to recuperate for the coming segment.