Kennedy Meadows, gateway to the High Sierra

Six days ago I was in Tehachapi. Now I'm in Kennedy Meadows, which is in the Sierra but not the High Sierra. In those days I hiked all of Section F (which I believe deserves an F) and the first part of Section G.

June 5 I slept at Golden Oak Spring, a little less than 20 miles from Highway 58 out of Tehachapi. I'll admit that I "yellow blazed" an 8 mile section of windmills between Willow Springs road and the start of Section F. I think many people do this, but not all. I'm not a purist I guess.

The trail began in Joshua tree country and went uphill quickly into pinyon pine forest. Golden Oak Spring was a cement cattle trough just below a plot of windmills in oak and pinyon pine forest. It was a nice spot with the trees buffering the wind, but the windmills were pretty noisy. The spring had lots of water and many others camped there as well. One thing about the first 700 miles is that you pretty much plan your life around water sources.

It was a tough slog to get in because I had put about 8 days worth of food and maybe a little more in my pack, plus the usual ton of water. I started worrying that it was too much food so I planned to eat it up as quickly as possible. It turned out I ate very well for the entire stretch and had no food cravings when I got in to Kennedy Meadows, except for a craving for lemonade.

June 6 I set out early as usual, before everybody else, and I saw a bear on the trail. He was walking toward me. We both stopped and then we both turned and went the other way. Just after I turned I looked back to see him galloping away and figured I would keep going forward, but carefully. I did not see him again.

The trail was really pretty all day. Lots of forest, lots of shade. The trail meandered in forest and had flat spaces all around the trail. The trail is usually, for all these hundreds of miles, just a tiny strip on the side of a steep hill, so this was a welcome change.

I ended up hiking 25 miles and camping at a place called Waterhole Mine Camp. The book said there was a picnic table, piped water and a toilet. There were none of those things. Gary was also there and he found a green plastic chair and there was a fire pit made of rocks so he made a nice little fire. There was a tiny little creek next to the campsite so it didn't really need the piped-in water.

The wind was still blowing in the evening, but after a while it settled down and the stillness of the night was so wonderful. It was so quiet and I slept well.

I got started the next day, June 7, at 6:30am. The forest was so nice and I felt like I had finally arrived at the long-awaited Sierras, that I could relax and enjoy the hike and not worry so much about sun exposure, lack of water and heat.

Then to my horror the trail suddenly dropped out of the forest and into a desert more severe than any we have done so far. Joshua trees were the only shade and the trail was hot, exposed, steep and sandy. There was a 35.5 mile stretch ahead with no water sources on the trail.

I checked my map and I could see that I could skip the trail by taking Kelso Road over to a dirt road that heads uphill to a spring and then further uphill to the PCT again. That was going to be my plan if the water cache at Kelso Road was weak. That would be my clue that the other water cache further up ahead may also be empty and to rely on the spring instead.

The cache was huge. There were a million full bottles of water. Maybe not that many, but there was enough for everyone to take as much as they might need. So I did. And I kept to the trail instead of doing my road walk.

The trail was hot, steep and sandy. This was Jawbone Canyon and there were lots of motorcycles. I could see them riding around on their trails. I could see evidence that they also ride around on the PCT, but I never actually saw anybody do that. The motorcycles turn the PCT into a deep sand and gravel series of whoopdeedoos that are horrible to walk on. I believe that they should put GPS tracking devices on the motorcycles and if they are detected riding on the PCT they should be immediately sentenced to hike on the PCT with a full pack, with 6 days of food and 5 liters of water.

Walking these whoopdeedoos is like lurching down two steps into a hole, then struggling four steps up and out, only to do it immediately again. It's tiring and painful.

At about 12:30 I sought shade under a Joshua tree and decided to wait out the heat of the day. The shade grew weaker as time passed. I felt that I was in too much sun to be doing any good to myself, so I packed my stuff back up and decided to seek shade down the trail. I walked very slowly so as not to trigger any sweating. I found better shade within 1/4 mile next to some rocks. I sat there until about 3:30 and then decided it would be best to just get the heck out of the desert as soon as I could. My destination was the next water cache at Bird Spring Road.

When I take a long mid-day break I often feel good as new. I was able to walk very fast at first. Then the trail got really steep and I was back to walking very slowly in the sandy whoopdeedoos again, but when they were over I still felt good enough to walk at top speed toward the cache. Fortunately the sun was relenting and a nice breeze was keeping me cool.

I made it to Bird Spring cache at about 6:30, still making my 20+ quota for the day despite my long 3 hour break in the shade. I camped at the cache and a couple others camped there, too. It was windy so I decided not to set up my tent. I don't know why I have always set up my tent, but I learned that if I sleep outside under the stars in a breeze the wind whips up my sleeping quilt into a huge froth of down that is super toasty warm. I slept that way next to a juniper bush and a Joshua tree. I cut the tips off the Joshua tree spines so I wouldn't keep poking myself. Sorry Mr. Tree. The desert was really pretty at dusk and again at dawn and in the middle of the night there were a million stars. The Milky Way was amazing.

In the morning, June 8, I set out at 6am for a big climb out of the desert again. The trail looked like it would be really steep but it wasn't too terrible. I got back into the pinyon pine forest again and felt happy to have shade again.

I met a group of 5 hikers going southbound. One of them, Squatch, makes documentaries about the PCT which you can buy from his Web site www.walkpct.com. I have seen his number 3 and I enjoyed it. He didn't film me as he walked by, however.

As I was enjoying the pinyon pines I suddenly found myself out in full sun exposure again, walking on a road through forest that was burned to a crisp. It stayed burned to a crisp for several hours in the hottest part of the day. I started to get mad. Section F is almost all desert because as far as I'm concerned, if the trees are gone it feels just the same.

When I reached the end of the burn zone, at the very first tree, I collapsed on my sleeping pad and took a nap. After a while I heard footsteps and saw a couple hiking the PCT with their dog Hank. Hank went immediately to the second tree and built a little nest and collapsed. The couple also stopped in the shade to rest. We are all amazed at how often we hike in burned forest and how little regrowth we see other than chaparral-type scrub. It's very sad.

As we all rested and chatted, Steve showed up and he rested in the shade, too. All that was left of the hike this day was a 4 mile downhill stretch to Walker Pass where there is a campground and a highway where you can get a ride to Onyx or Lake Isabella if you want. So we had time to rest.

At 3:30 I felt ready to get going so I put on my pack and headed down the trail. I began to get really thirsty, but the water I had wasn't making me feel quenched. I started getting a headache. I was getting hyponatremia from drinking a lot of plain water and not getting enough salt to replenish what I lose from sweating. All I could think about was getting to the campsite and getting some fresh water and making some lemonade.

When I arrived at the campsite I was quite disappointed that the water spigots were turned off and I had to walk down the highway quite a long distance in the sweltering afternoon sun to a cement cattle trough filled with tulles and mosquito larvae. But it was water and I needed a lot of it. I made two trips, too.

I made my lemonade and probably by the end of the day had consumed 2 or 3 liters either as lemonade, electrolyte drink, soup or just water. I honestly don't know how other PCT hikers have made it through the previous desert parts of the trail. I have been so lucky that it's been cool and breezy. Now in this heat I'm barely able to stay hydrated and safe from the sun. I'm lucky conditions have allowed me to get this far. I don't think I could have made it otherwise. All the other PCT hikers are so much stronger than I am.

I camped at Walker Pass with a lot of the other hikers. Some hikers, like Steve and the couple with the dog were on the trail with me. Others had already been into Onyx or Lake Isabella or even Bakersfield and were camping there in order to get a fresh start in the morning. There was good conversation at the picnic table.

One funny thing that happened is we were sitting at the picnic table when a family pulls up in a car about 30 feet away. They start unpacking things from their car and they are shouting out to each other. You couldn't really hear what they were saying, but we all heard clear as day the word "sandwich". One of the guys says, did you hear that? They're asking us if we'd like a sandwich! And he starting running toward them. Halfway there he realizes what we already know that they aren't talking to us at all and dejectedly he walks back to the table where we all are laughing so hard and this hiker lust for food and trail angels.

The next morning, June 9, I woke up before everyone else, except Hank the dog who had slept with me an hour or so in the night, and headed out. I felt really bad about my troubles with hydration and was feeling like I'm not cut out for this. I was thinking how easy it would be to just hitch a ride to Onyx, take the bus to Bakersfield, catch the Greyhound to Santa Barbara and not be lonely and thirsty anymore. But I forced myself to keep going. Just make it to Lone Pine and see if you can handle the Sierras, I kept thinking.

Up on Mount Jenkins at a plaque I finally had phone service and I called and talked to Tony. It was nice to hear his voice. He got my message from the other day. Because I have been putting in 20+ mile days my schedule of when to mail things is no longer accurate and I realized much too late that if he were to send my bear cannister to Kennedy Meadows by the schedule I'd have to sit there possibly for weeks waiting for it. So I will have to have it sent to Lone Pine instead and hope my Ursack works ok for the bears.

It was nice talking to Tony. I miss him and my birds. He said he was building more stuff for the deck and doing Sierra Club hikes. Oh how easy those used to be!

The trail on this day kicked my butt. It was the hardest day I had yet. I was alone the whole day, bumping into only a couple of section hikers. The trail went way up above 7000' and then, unlike in the rest of Southern California where the trail abandons you to lengthy waterless stretches (which is why there are so many water caches), the trail plunged way down into the 5000s to allow you to visit Joshua Tree Spring.

When I got to the Spring there was a fat, hairy guy in a tent with a little white dog. The man never spoke to me and it looked like he had bad blisters. That's why I think he was probably a section hiker. Too fat, too many bad blisters. His little dog would come around the corner to where I was sitting every now and then and growl at me.

I filled up my bottles and made some lemonade and tried to rest but the bugs were really bad down there. So I loaded up for yet another mid-day slog through the shadeless desert.

The trail went up steeply way back up into nice trees again only to plunge way back down so you could visit some little tiny creeks, little tributaries of Spanish Needle creek. One of them had stream orchids and other flowers blooming all over. I stopped there and filled up more water and washed my feet and dipped my clothes and hat in the water. I felt much better after doing that.

At the second Spanish Needle creek crossing I met a section hiker resting in the shade. He was in awe of us thru-hikers who put in such long days. Or maybe he thought we were nuts. By the end of the day I spent 13 hours hiking only 22 miles and I barely took any breaks. The trail was that arduous. I probably should have rested more but it's all about water sources and trying to get to Kennedy Meadows by this time.

At the end of the day I slept on a saddle between Spanish Needle group and Lamont Peak. I camped alone, my third time this whole trip so far. It was breezy and I slept out under the stars so I could rush out in the morning. I made a feast for dinner, finally cooking something. I've avoided cooking most of the time. I made Top Ramen with fresh onion (a stroke of genius to carry an onion I'm telling you!), tuna and fried onions. I hoped its salty goodness would give me better strength for the next day and hoped the bears wouldn't smell my leftover tuna packet. Oh, but it tasted so good!

In the morning, June 10, I put my stuff away very quickly and very early and headed out at 5:30am. I didn't sleep well because my feet would have these spasms of pain and I just wasn't all that sleepy. You'd think if you walked 20+ miles you'd be tired but I just felt wired all night.

The morning's hike was really nice in pretty forest on the shady side of the mountain downhill all the way. I was so grateful for so much shade that lasted so many hours.

Along the way a group of day-hikers going southbound walked past me. They sure smelled good. I hoped they couldn't smell me.

I met a man named Treebeard who said he saw me camped the previous night so he kept going rather than disturb me. I never heard or saw him. I met him again when we reached the first water source and then he was gone. I rested there briefly with a nice cool lemonade and some poptarts with peanut butter on them.

It was so nice by the little creek but I knew I must be on my way so onward I went, uphill now. The hills in this section, Section G now, are really steep. (Section F ended at Walker Pass.) According to the guide book the trail was going to enter a burn zone and make me walk in it for 14 miles. Ugh.

At about 11am I reached the burn zone. Fortunately there was a breeze most of the time so it wasn't too horrible. The wildflowers blooming were stunning. I took a lot of pictures. The fragrance was almost overpowering. It was nice to smell something other than myself for a change.

As the day wore on I began to get very tired and really wanted to rest. There wasn't a single tree alive and not a single tree regenerating. Desertification is what this is. I could find no place to rest in the shade.

I came around a bend into a ravine and met a couple of hikers who have done the PCT before and they were eating lunch. I stopped with them for a while and rested and ate, too. I spilled jelly all over my pants and tried to lick it up again. Cleanliness is pretty relative by now.

The shadelessness was doing me no good so after they left I kept going, too. They were quick hikers and disappeared from sight quite quickly.

I kept going through this burn zone, all down hill now, over clinking little rocks that were hard to walk on. I felt so tired and so sleepy I was almost falling asleep while walking. I tried to sing the song I had been composing over the last couple of days to stay busy.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, I reached the next water source where there was a huge burned tree that actually provided a little shade as well as a cavity for a beehive. I rested there for a while with the couple I had just met and another couple, the man wearing a kilt. I think men look cool in kilts.

At the water source I filled up a little bit of water and soaked my shirt and hat again and set off for more shadeless, burned, desertified trail. The couple who had hiked the PCT before said they remember very little of the trail from their hike in 1996 but one thing they have noticed is how much of the trail is burned. It's rare to go a day without walking through a burn zone. It's not so bad in chaparral country since it's supposed to burn and comes back quickly, but the pine forest isn't coming back. None of us saw any pine seedlings and the fire happened eight years ago.

Soon the four of them were off and after I visited the water I was off, too. Everybody was excited to be reaching the Kern River in 5 more miles. I figured that I had 5 more miles left in me. So I set off hoping to reach the river.

When I got to the river I thought that there would be just one encounter with it and that there would be a campsite right there and we'd all camp together and have some hiker chit-chat before bed. But instead the trail when along the river for quite some distance and despite looking for other people I never saw them. The trail went away from the river and I got nervous that I was walking past the river without taking a chance to take a dip. I told myself it's probably just going over the rise and will reach it again, and I was right.

I saw some inviting places to stop, the sun was starting to go behind the mountain, and I kept telling myself as soon as I find the others I'll be able to go swimming.

Soon the trail started veering very much away from the river. I stopped to check my guide book. I didn't have the page with me so I looked through the other pages I keep buried in my pack and could not find it. Of all the pages to lose I'd lose this one that I really wanted! I checked the map. It did look like the trail went away from the river one time, then back, then away permanently. Oh no! I was going to miss the river if I kept going.

So I turned back and went back to a little campsite I could see down by the river. Another night alone but at least I could cool off in the water. I put my stuff down and jumped in the river with all my clothes on. The water wasn't really cold at all. I splashed around and got the stink off, the dirt off and the jelly off.

I took off all my clothes and hung them in a bush and put on my silk long underwear. I cooked a fabulous concoction of mashed potatoes, tuna, fresh onion and Asiago cheese cubes (another stroke of genius is fresh, hard cheese). Oh man it was so good!

I decided to get in my tent and relax a little. I wrote in my journal a little, then put my head down. Next thing I know I'm asleep and the sun is still up. I slept well until morning. Not until dawn like all the other days but until full-on, sun is up, birds are singing morning. I guess 20+ mile days for so many days in a row had taken their toll. I had walked over 25 miles just to get to this river.

Now, June 11, I had only 4 or less miles to walk to Kennedy Meadows, which I did quite easily well before the store opened at 9am.

I'm going to take some days off, watch the progress of the latest wildfire to burn the PCT to a crisp, and just relax and enjoy a little hiker culture.

I have worried these past few days that I'm not cut out for this. The High Sierras will probably kill me. I am going to have to say good-bye to all these super strong, super fit hikers who put in their 20+ mile days and then play frisbee in the afternoon and start doing 15+ mile days instead. I hope my quilt continues to keep me warm and that my wimpy mesh shoes will work out ok. I hope not having a bear can until Lone Pine will work out ok, too. Most of all, I hope I can continue, that I don't give up. It's lonely out here most of the time and hard work.

Here's the song I wrote. It's sung to the tune of Old Dan Tucker. Piper is my trail name and not all of what's in this song is true.

Old Lady Piper is a fine old bird
Washed her face by an old cow turd (I was down stream you dummy!)
Combs her hair about once a week
Drinks from a cattle trough because there ain't no creek

Save a root beer float for Old Bird Piper
She's too late to get trail magic
Float's are gone, trail angels drivin'
Old Bird Piper just stands there cryin'

Old Bird Piper has a heavy pack
3/4 of her body weight in water on her back
Walks 1 mile an hour up steep mountain passes
At night she fills her sleeping bag with noxious gases

Save a bowl of ice cream for Old Bird Piper
She's too late to get trail magic
Ice cream's gone, trail angels drivin'
Old Bird Piper just stands there cryin'

Old Bird Piper dreams of carrot cake
Of burgers and fries and lemonade
She hopes in time these dreams will fade
'Cause ramen and mashed potatoes is all she made

Save some taco salad for Old Bird Piper
She went to bed without her supper
Morning came, no pancakes fryin'
Old Bird Piper hit the trail cryin'

(The "down stream you dummy" is a reference to Wild Bill who claimed to bathe down stream from Barrel Spring, which was a cattle trough, not a creek; the floats and ice cream were trail magic some people got; the taco salad, which I had, and pancakes, which I didn't have, were served at the Casa de Luna.)

It's windy in Tehachapi

Go figure it would be windy as heck in Tehachapi. The wind is so strong most of us can barely walk.

The PCT Guide book breaks the hike into sections and the one I've been doing, from Agua Dulce to Highway 58 near Tehachapi is Big Bad Section E. I have one thing to say about Section E: Skip it. Really. It's just a big giant object lesson.

First thing you do is hike a couple of days westward in chaparral, weaving in and out of ravines just below the crest, completely in character with all the other days so far. Then just when the trail is really pretty, you get your first object lesson about the Mighty Tejon Ranch and how mean they are not to let you stay in the pretty mountains. You weave in and out of their property line for an eternity, heading eastward now.

Then you get your next object lesson hiking eastward through the Mojave desert. You beat your feet to a pulp on the concrete-covered aqueduct to teach you a lesson about the mighty L.A. Deptartment of Water and Power. They deign to provide you one little drinking faucet amply marked as unfit to drink next to a bridge where you can sit and enjoy the shade.

When I came through the Mojave section on June 2 it was windy and in the mid-80s. Not too bad. I hauled a lot of water out of Hikertown so I only needed to refill one liter at the faucet. I had to fill my cooking pot with the water and filter it into my bottle.

Under the bridge, which is over Cottonwood creek, a creek with one cottonwood and no creek, the wind roared and in the shade it was quite cold. People were wearing their down jackets and getting in their sleeping bags. This wasn't the deathly hot desert section we all had imagined.

Almost all of us had made the 19 mile trek from Hikertown to the bridge by noon and sat under the bridge napping and resting until about 3 or 4pm. Then we continued. The trail went uphill after the bridge. I could tell that at one time the hills, which were dotted with juniper and joshua trees, had been covered with carpets of wildflowers.

The guidebook says section E is uncharacteristic, but I found it to be quite in character. As we ascended out of the desert I could see two canyons: Pretty canyon on the left with oaks and living things and ugly canyon on the right with no living things and obviously burned to a crisp. Naturally the PCT chose the ugly, lifeless, waterless canyon.

The going was extremely difficult as the wind roared in gusts that nearly knocked me over. I could barely keep upright and go forward. Sometimes I couldn't even go forward. This was the beginning of our third object lesson.

As the shadows lengthened I grew nervous I'd never find a sheltered place to sleep. That is also in character for the PCT. The PCT is a narrow strip of trail clinging to a cliff offering you as much as 20 miles or more of cliff-side, waterless, camping-less hiking. Miss a place to lay your head and you could be out of luck for a long time.

I passed a juniper tree where somebody had sought shelter from the blasting wind under the branches. Unfortunately there was no more shelter under the tree, so I risked pressing on, hoping for better shelter somewhere else.

The trail went higher on the ridge and the wind grew fiercer. I tried leaning into the wind and letting go of all my weight to see if it would hold me. It almost did even with 4 liters of water in my pack.

I crested a ridge and there before my eyes was Tylerhorse canyon. It was dark, deep and shady and had a trickle of a creek running through it. Yay! I was going to be alright.

I got down there and Steve was filling his water. He was going to press on. I was not going to take any chances. I set up my sleeping quilt under a fallen, burned oak tree. It seemed like the most sheltered spot in this relatively calm canyon. Relatively. Instead of hurricane force wind it was merely strong enough to blow sand in your eyes.

I didn't dare cook anything so I made a peanut butter and jelly burrito. I battened down all my stuff so it wouldn't blow away and got into my quilt to keep it down.

As I rested, watching the sky grow darker, other hikers arrived. All of them gave out a Woot! when they saw this canyon. All were relieved to find shelter for the night.

I propped up my things to form some kind of windbreak and went to sleep. I had to sleep inside my quilt all the way, with it over my head. It was way too warm for that. Every gust of wind seemed to puff up the down even more and make it hotter. I have hope now that maybe my quilt will be warm enough after all. The trick is to puff it up really high.

I woke up every now and then in the night, checked on the stars and wiped the sand out of my eyes and off my teeth. I slept pretty well.

In the morning, June 3, I packed up early like I like to do and hit the trail. The trail was in awful condition in this burn area. They have marked it well but I really believe they should have marked a new route and abandoned the current route. People should not be hiking there. It's like hiking the upper Potrero trail right now only a little bit worse. Burned with nothing but falling sand to walk laterally across.

But I had no knowledge of an alternate route so I had to take what the PCT offered. It was slow going and the wind was still roaring. Eventually it calmed and I felt relieved I could deal with the burned out, motocross-ruined trail without being blown off a cliff.

There were no footprints ahead of me so when I saw fresh footprints I knew they were Steve's. When I saw them going the wrong way I worried about him. I never saw his footprints again for the rest of the day. I learned later he went way far the wrong way and ended up completely off the trail and hitchhiked into town.

After a long time the trail climbed out of the burn zone into pinyon pine forest. Pinyon pine forest is some of my favorite forest and I've been disappointed we haven't spent more time in it. The trail hiked along up and down, criss-crossed by motorcycle tracks. There were motorcycle tracks in the trail as well.

Then the trail continued with object lesson number 3, which was to take you by the windmills of Tehachapi where the wind roared in 65mph blasts that almost dashed me against rocks as if I was flotsom in the surf. The trail went in and out of ravines, took a little dip to show off the PCT's famous switchbacks that lose almost no elevation, then climbed back up to the windmills again, all the while letting me gaze longingly at a pretty canyon below where there was a creek and no wind.

Eventually I dropped down to the creek and the trailhead on Willow Springs Road or something like that. I didn't know what road it was and thought it was Highway 58, the end of Section E. There was a log book where I duly noted my least-favored status of Section E.

I walked up to the road where there was a parking area just as a man pulled up in a car. He checked on some water bottles behind a rock and said he maintains the water here at the parking lot and offers rides to Mojave. I said I was going to Tehachapi, not Mojave. He said he'd take me.

He was a retired Narcotics officer in the LA Sheriff's department. He bragged about his daughter and recommended places to eat in Tehachapi. He drove me all the way to the Post Office which was located way too far out of town. There should be a law that post offices must be located in the downtown area not miles out of town.

He waited for me and then took me to the Appleshed so I could eat. He refused my offer of money for gas and dropped me off. It's wonderful when you meet nice people like that.

I ate a lunch there and then walked down the main street, stopping at the Chamber of Commerce to see what they recommended as far as cheap motels. They said to go to the Santa Fe which was a block away and very cheap. It's run by a nice Indian family. Sadly there are no Indian restaurants in town.

I got a room for two nights. In the morning, June 4, I ate breakfast at Kelcy's and then at 9AM realized I better get to my shopping. Things always take longer than you think. I resupplied in K-Mart and at Albertsons, spending $180! Oh my! I did buy a lot of sundries, but still. That's a heck of a lot of food! There's about a 9-day stretch with no resupply opportunities so I had to buy a lot and also get the little extras I'm running out of.

I carefully measured my food. I decided to add a second breakfast to my meals. My dinners are pretty small because I'm usually pretty tired when I get to camp and a peanut butter and jelly burrito is usually quite enough. I realized as I looked at my food that most of it isn't even dehydrated. I eat things like:

Breakfast: Grapenuts with powdered milk, handfull of nuts and handfull of dried fruit
2nd Breakfast: Poptarts
Lunch (if you can call it that because I eat it over the course of the whole day): 2 or 3 Clif or other similar bars and a small snack bag of cashews and dried fruit, sometimes fresh fruit, peanut butter and jelly burrito, cookies
Dinner: Ramen or mashed potatos with dried veggies if I feel like cooking, peanut butter and jelly burrito or crackers and peanut butter if I don't.

Well, my time on the free Internet at K-Mart is running out. I have one more night in Tehachapi and then it's out into the wind storm and into a 30 mile waterless section. Ugh. If I ever do a long trail again it'll have water and not just be walking along a lateral trail near a ridge with nowhere to lay your head to rest.

Hikertown

Last time I wrote I had arrived at Agua Dulce. I stayed one night there at the Saufley's. Everybody stays there at least one night.

Donna Saufley does your laundry. She does it like everything there is done. First you go to the pavilion where a couple of racks of loaner clothes are available. You select your outfit then pick up a towel and a laundry basket. You write your name on a post-it and stick it to your laundry basket. Then you go to the shower.

You take your shower, put all your clothes in the basket, put on your loaner clothes and set your laundry in the garage. A few hours or so later, your clean clothes are ready for you on the porch of the guest house.

Everything works like that. It's very organized and makes for a smooth stay. One thing that's truly amazing is that there are loaner cars and you can drive them in to Los Angeles to do some shopping. That is what I did. I went to REI in Northridge and bought a new backpack, an Osprey Aura 65. I can truly say now with a few days of hiking with 5 liters in my pack that it's a miracle. It weighs a pound or two more than my old pack but it makes the 5 liters of water feel like the day before a resupply. Ultralight doesn't always work.

While at the Saufley's I read some of my mail. Looks like I caused a stir on the PCT-L list when I said I didn't have rain gear to endure the weather in Wrightwood. People were calling me a neophyte and stupid for not having proper equipment. One of those people was Mrs. Saufley. I felt a little uncomfortable being there. In my defense, I did have something for rain, just not for heavy rain and certainly not for a combination of rain and snow so deep I couldn't set up my tent. Nobody expected that storm, not even the people of Wrightwood who had to save their newly planted gardens from the unexpected winter weather.

So after a night at the Saufley's I headed out of Agua Dulce with a man named Graybeard. You have to walk the roads for several miles to get back to trail tread again. The roads are the trail. The actual trail began on a hot chaparral mountain called Sierra Pelona. The climbing was not very pleasant but not terribly steep. I started around noon so by about 5pm or so I reached a nice spot with a little spring and that's where I camped. It is called Bear Spring.

I filtered water from the spring and cooked some dinner. Graybeard is like a lot of the other hikers. He brings only chemicals and no filter so if the water doesn't look clean or isn't deep enough to fill a bottle he either waits for better water or relies upon a water cache. A lot of hikers rely on the caches. I'm starting to feel like I'm walking in a sea of discarded plastic bottles. The caches are beginning to get on my nerves. I'm sure I'll see less of them soon.

There is a little meadow there so I set up my tent in the long grass. The ground was a bit lumpy but soft and the lumps seemed to be in strategic places for good sleep. My quilt kept me warm enough and I slept well.

In the morning (May 30 and exactly one month now since I began), Graybeard took off quickly. I lingered in the nice meadow and ate my breakfast. Then I sauntered on my way. The next stop would be the Casa de Luna.

I felt great with my new pack and was hiking in the groove. I met Graybeard sitting on the trail resting. He started hiking with me again. The trail was still in chaparral and the weather was nice.

At some point in the morning we came upon a little nook carved into the chaparral filled with lawn chairs and skeletons and pink flamingos and a blow-up monkey and several bottles of water and a big cooler that had once held cactus coolers, beer and soda. I took the last 7-Up and sat on the lounge chair. What a wonderful place!

I rested there with Graybeard and two other guys. We took pictures of the place and enjoyed our rest. The spot is called the Oasis and is stocked by the Andersons, who own Casa de Luna.

Some time around noon we reached the Green Valley ranger station and had lunch with Beautiful and Gorgeous. I really wanted to go to Casa de Luna to see what it was all about, so Graybeard came with me. We made a feeble attempt at hitchhiking and failed and ended up walking the 2 miles to the place.

Casa de Luna is the Anderson's house. It is hard to describe. There were a bunch of chairs around a burning fire and a futon in the driveway. People were lounging and napping. There were coolers in the driveway full of beer, soda and water. There was a lot of junk all around, much of it interesting, and backpacks everywhere. Most people seemed to be in a state of either intoxication or its aftermath. The house was in a shady place under oak trees in this tiny little town and on the garage door was a huge cloth banner with the words Casa de Luna and everybody hiking the PCT this year had signed it.

Out in back you could walk for at least 1/4 mile into a forest of manzanita and select a site to sleep. I selected one next to a large wooly blue curls plant in full bloom. It reminded me some of Figueroa Mountain campground.

At night Mrs. Anderson fixed taco salad. Dozens of hikers appeared to eat it and seconds and thirds. After dinner, which was served pretty late at 8:30, I went to bed.

In the middle of the night I was awakened by the sound of people hooting and cheering. Much debauchery was happening. I later saw pictures of oil wrestling. I wished I hadn't seen them. I think I have scars on my retinas now.

In the morning tequila bottles and beer cans were strewn about and I pretty much figured the pancake breakfast would really be lunch so I packed up and headed out for a stop at the little Heart and Soul cafe.

At the cafe I ordered a soy cafe latte and a donut. The latte was very good. As I was chatting with the owner, Graybeard and Data appeared saying that Chuck Norris (or is it Chuck Snorris, I'm not sure) would be giving rides to the trailhead. So when he showed up we all jumped in and back to the trail we went.

It was now May 31. I set out as quickly as possible. I felt like hiking alone without chit-chat. The trail was again in chaparral, kind of uninspiring but not too hot so it was nice. I could see Lake Hughes in the distance but opted not to make a stop.

By mid-day it was pretty hot so I stopped at a place with pine trees that sort of looked like a campground in the making and made a call to Tony just to chat. I reached him and we had a nice chat. He's buying more lumber.

I continued on and the trail went on forever in and out of little ravines paralelling a road the entire time. At one spot I passed a bunch of piles of cut branches and trees each with a piece of plastic sheeting tangled within the pile. How strange.

After I passed that, the trail turned suddenly very pretty. I walked through shade cast by the prettiest oak trees and big cone spruce trees. Every one of my favorite wildflowers seemed to be in bloom. It was the prettiest trail yet.

After 20 miles I stopped at Sawmill Camp. A few others stopped as well. Data, 1000 Canadian Snow Kittens (Darren's new trail name) and Lil' Wrangler. Also Kirsten and Adrien who now go by Danger Prone and Hawkeye, and Steve who Tony met the other day.

It seemed really warm even though it was windy. My quilt was very toasty. It really does seem to work best with the straps around the pad rather than around your body. The little micro-breezes don't get in that way. I also experimented with my tent and added a couple of guy lines to the back so I can pull it away from me. When it's windy the back bows in toward my face. Now it'll stay away from me, hopefully.

In the morning, June 1, I got up very early and got started at 6AM, which I like to do. Nobody else was up yet. I headed down the trail. It continued to be as pretty as yesterday but there were less flowers. I could tell there had been carpets of them earlier in the season in some places.

At one spot there supposedly was a water source so I went to check it out. Despite being in a 30 mile no-water section, there was indeed plenty of water in the source. I filtered a liter grateful I am smart enough to carry a filter. You can get water out of difficult places with a filter. The source was a fiberglass tank designed so that small animals can get inside to get water. The surface is rough so they won't slip and drown. I'm not a small animal but my filter could reach.

The trail descended out of the pretty forest. After I rested at a nice picnic table along the way, the trail dropped into the San Andreas Rift Valley on Pine Mountain Road. I passed a sag pond, which is a pond formed in the fault in low-lying spots. There were red-winged blackbirds and ducks enjoying the pond. Shortly afterwards was a little creek. I stopped and washed my two shirts and my pits and brushed my hair and teeth. It's hard to waste water in a 30 mile no-water zone on teeth brushing so it felt nice to do it. Now I was ready for town.

But first I had to endure trail that the book described as "annoying". Annoying is right. The trail seemed to be designed by the Tejon Ranch specifically to say to you "We are the Mighty Tejon Ranch and that'll teach you to tread anywhere near our private property." The trail went in and out and up and down headed in the opposite direction I had been plodding all morning. What a waste! I should have chosen a dirt road out of Bear Camp and just walked straight down rather than endure all that.

The trail deposited me at the Pear Blossom Highway in the Antelope Valley next to a place called Hikertown. You can come here and get shade and water and even sleep over and use the Internet if you like. A bunch of people are here thinking they will sleep a little in the afternoon and then start night-hiking across the valley. I'm feeling peer pressure to do the same, but this really was my final goal for the day. 20 miles and my feet are pretty tired. I did 20 miles yesterday, too, and it's 40 to Tehachapi so that's two more 20 mile days. I think that's good enough for me.

I got a ride to Gil's Country Store down the street where there were meager provisions, unless you need Mexican spices and then there were plenty. I bought a few things. I'm not very good at estimating my food needs and I was sort of running out of the little extras like dried fruit. I bought raisins in a Mexican spice bag. I guess they're a Mexican spice. I also bought some food to eat right away. I drank a cranberry juice, a naked juice, ate a bag of sunchips and half a chicken pesto sandwhich plus a cup of ice cream that Data begged me to help him eat. That ought to tide me over until tomorrow. Or until I eat the other half of that sandwhich.

Well, that's my update for today. Next I'll make my way across the Antelope Valley along the LA Aqueduct toward Tehachapi. I hope I can get a ride into Tehachapi. It's too far to walk.

Here's a poem I wrote in honor of reaching (and passing) the 500 mile mark:

There's puss in my sock, there's puss in my sock
It came from the blister with the big blood clot
There's puss in my shoe, there's puss in my shoe
500 miles, what more can I do?

In the morning the trail tread tilted to the left
From 2pm to supper time it tilted to the right
My pinky toes look like meat, it gives me quite a fright
If I get more hungry, I might just take a bite


With 2100 miles left to go it's useless to complain
My feet will have to learn to endure the endless pain
Onward I go, my pinky toes too
500 miles, what more can I do?