Wrightwood is a vortex. I could not escape. It felt like Groundhog day.
The Tretters were a great family to stay with. So generous with their living space and food and everything. But after 3 days I feared I'd never leave.
Tony arrived on Friday of Memorial Day weekend. It was snowing. We sat around the house. On Saturday the weather was still bad. We took a day hike to do the section of the PCT between Inspiration Point and Vincent Gap. The snow was slushy and wet but I had a warm home to go to to dry my socks and shoes.
The next day I had a feeling I had to get out or I never would. So Tony and I packed up and left early. It was sunny. But the clouds came in before we got started and it was cold. We drove to Vincent Gap and Tony convinced me that if the snow was wet and slushy at lower altitudes it would be drier and better at higher altitudes. So we decided to try the trail.
At Vincent Gap the trail heads up to Baden-Powell, which is over 9000ft elevation. We climbed the million switchbacks and the snow got deeper and deeper. Toward the top the foot steps we were following started to look confused. But we reached the top where the PCT meets with the side-trail to the summit. We didn't summit but instead went down the PCT, following much fewer footsteps now.
The snow was very deep. We were postholing up to our thighs. The footsteps we followed seemed to get lost every now and then. It was really difficult. My feet were getting wet.
I told Tony I was scared I would get lost because I couldn't see anything that looked like a trail. We tried to just follow the ridge for a while, aiming for Dawson Saddle Trail that would take us back down to the road. Then Tony stood above a snow chute and said he could see the road. Why yes, there it was. We decided to head down the chute.
It took us about 1 and 1/2 hours postholing down this gully. Straight down. Toward the bottom the gully narrowed and I began to get nervous. What if we reached a cliff and couldn't get past it? There was a little creek and a small waterfall. It was scary going over this stuff.
Soon the snow was very deep and the gully very narrow and I was afraid I'd fall up to my neck in one of the holes on the sides. Then a miracle: The gully emptied out to a wide area right next to the road. We were saved.
I immediately turned right, toward the Vortex of Wrightwood. My feet were wet, my legs were wet, my back and butt were wet from falling in the snow. I wanted to get out of there. I declared that I hate trees, I hate forests and I hate snow. Get me the heck out of here away from the snow and away from Wrightwood.
So we walked back to Vincent Gap. By the time I got there I was so cold I was wearing all my clothes and still shivering. We got in the car and went for Yodel burgers in Wrightwood. While there Hotel California played on the jukebox. How appropriate.
We drove south on 138, through the Cajon Pass on I15 and over to the 210 to La Canada where we stayed in a little hotel with old-fashioned wall heaters where I dried my socks and shoes. Then the next morning, fortified with Jack-in-the-Box breakfasts, we drove up to Three Points and I continued my hike, feeling defeated at cheating but terribly grateful to Tony for rescuing me out of the Vortex.
Tony hiked with me for a few hours and then we had our tearful good-bye and I continued on. I planned an easy day but ended up hiking 22 miles to a little camp under some big cone spruce trees next to a tiny little creek. I had met Yard Sale and Weeble along the way but they never made it to the little camp and I camped alone. It was a cold, damp place and my sleeping bag was barely warm enough. My new sleeping quilt that is.
The next morning I continued on. The trail was so pretty with the oaks and big cone spruce. These two days of oaks and spruce were the prettiest in my mind so far. I ended up down in Soledad Canyon and slept at an RV park. Cost me $20 for practically nothing but it was all there was around the area that I felt safe in. Yard Sale and Weeble stayed with me and pitched in $10. I slept cold there, too. I worry about my new quilt.
This morning I loaded up for an easy walk through the Vasquez Rocks into Agua Dulce. It was a really pretty hike and the rocks were amazing. I took a lot of pictures.
Now I'm at the famous Hiker Haven in Agua Dulce waiting for my turn at the shower and a chance to go to REI for a new backpack. Mine only feels comfortable with about 22lbs in it. After that it's painful on my back and shoulders. I'll look and see if there's something better.
People have heard of my death-defying adventure in the snow before I even arrived. I don't know how they would have heard about it. They tell me I should be proud, that I hiked more of the trail up in the snow than most people, and in water shoes, not real hiking boots, too. So I won't worry too much that I skipped about 20 miles of the trail. Hike your own hike. This is my hike.
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Thursday, May 22, 2008
Wrightwood
Yesterday I hiked out of the Cajon Pass into the mountains above Wrightwood. It was a very long climb, about 5000ft in 20 miles. My left foot hurt a lot because it's got some bad blisters and because the trail was a lateral trail that always seemed to be tilted the wrong way.
I lurched and trudged up the trail. At one point I thought I really needed to figure out a reason why I still enjoy doing this because if I don't, I'm going to quit. I mean, my feet hurt all the time either from blisters or just tenderness, and my pack just feels way too heavy. It constantly cuts into my shoulders and I can't really get it to set right on my body. I relied on Ibuprofen to keep going much of the day.
There really is no such thing as ultra-light hiking on the PCT. My base pack weight is under 20lbs but then you have to add tons of water for the ubiquitous "water alert" sections and your food. It's always hovering at or over 30lbs and to me that's just way too heavy.
The first thing I'm going to do is embrace dehydration. It's tiresome stopping to go to the bathroom anyway. No more 5 liter carries. From now on it's 3 liters maximum.
I think I'll embrace semi-starvation as well. Too many easy side-trips I didn't even know would happen have made carrying food for every meal a silly waste of weight. Maybe one of these days I'll get lucky and instead of just a cooler full of fruit I'll stumble upon the ice cream or root beer floats being handed out on the trail.
Other than that, I'm afraid there's not much else I can eliminate from my weight. I have used everything I have more than once. I haven't even been carrying a stove. I bet without the stove the base weight has been closer to 15lbs than 20. I'm probably going to add it back in so I can have some hot drinks and mashed potatoes.
Enough complaining.
As I reached the higher altitudes yesterday the trail leveled off a bit and I started feeling less glum. It's really quite pretty up here.
Late in the afternoon I could see the town of Wrightwood below. There's a side trail called the Acorn trail that you can take to get there. I had planned to take that trail and call a friend's dad to get a ride into town. I took one look at all that lost altitude and thought there was no way in hell I'd give up all that hard-won elevation gain.
So I hiked past that trail to Guffy camp with visions of a warm, snug, sheltered happy place in the trees. Instead it was a cold, windy as heck place in the trees. I set up my tent and it didn't fall down thanks to the extremely heavy rocks they have up there. But being basically a tarp tent, the wind blew a fine dust into the tent all night. Fortunately my sleeping bag kept me warm enough with me wearing my silk underwear, hazmat suit (purchased at ACE Hardware for about $10) and my Patagonia down sweater. I hope the sleeping quilt I've ordered to hopefully shave a pound off my pack will be as warm.
In the morning I slept in a tiny bit because it was very cold. I packed up and got going around 7AM. I only had 6 miles to go to Highway 2 where I should be able to get a ride.
Along the way the clouds started to look kind of dark. I decided I better get my hazmat suit out and ready. I stopped to do that and realized I was getting really cold so I put the suit on. Just then snow began to fall.
I really enjoyed the snow. With my hiking clothes, hat and scarf, hazmat suit and my Marmot Dri-clime jacket I was plenty warm enough while hiking. Just perfectly warm that I didn't sweat. I marveled at the snow and was happy to be out hiking.
When I reached Highway 2 there was a man from Alabama sitting there eating. His name was Graybeard. I asked him if he was going to Wrightwood and he said yes but there had been no cars coming down the highway. I told him I had a phone number. So I whipped out my phone to call. No service.
No problem. I felt pretty good so a road-walk didn't bother me. The two of us took off down the road to Wrightwood.
Eventually a car with a young driver came by. We tried to thumb a ride but he didn't stop. We tried to figure out why. Maybe because he's too young and thinks hitchhikers are bad people, or maybe he was late for work. No problem. We kept walking in the driving snowfall.
After a few minutes the same car came back and made a U-turn to pick us up. The driver explained he had other hikers in his car already and that's why he didn't stop before. He and his friend had planned to go for a day hike but then the snow changed their plans so they were driving hikers into town instead.
We got the scoop from them on a good place for breakfast and that's where we were dropped off. Graybeard and I went in for breakfast, and then Gary showed up, too. One of Gary's days put my 28 mile day to shame. He basically did my 28 mile day plus another 15 or so, hiking from Deep Springs Hot Springs all the way to Interstate 15 in one day.
After breakfast I cruised the happening hardware store. They had a hiker register and hiker box (a box full of unwanted items). The register had a listing of local families that take in hikers so I called one of them. The Tretters. It's so nice of them to do this. Laundry, Internet, a nice bed in the RV, a hot shower (really super hot, too!)
So I'm going to rest my blistered feet and wait for Tony to arrive tomorrow. Then I'll mail on my bounce bucket to Agua Dulce and buy a few things to make the 90 miles to get there. I'm getting tired of trying to steal TP from outhouses along the way. Time to buy a roll. Then together we'll see what lies ahead on the trail. I hope whatever's ahead is not too disappointing for him. As nice as the trees are here, it's really not a very wild place.
I lurched and trudged up the trail. At one point I thought I really needed to figure out a reason why I still enjoy doing this because if I don't, I'm going to quit. I mean, my feet hurt all the time either from blisters or just tenderness, and my pack just feels way too heavy. It constantly cuts into my shoulders and I can't really get it to set right on my body. I relied on Ibuprofen to keep going much of the day.
There really is no such thing as ultra-light hiking on the PCT. My base pack weight is under 20lbs but then you have to add tons of water for the ubiquitous "water alert" sections and your food. It's always hovering at or over 30lbs and to me that's just way too heavy.
The first thing I'm going to do is embrace dehydration. It's tiresome stopping to go to the bathroom anyway. No more 5 liter carries. From now on it's 3 liters maximum.
I think I'll embrace semi-starvation as well. Too many easy side-trips I didn't even know would happen have made carrying food for every meal a silly waste of weight. Maybe one of these days I'll get lucky and instead of just a cooler full of fruit I'll stumble upon the ice cream or root beer floats being handed out on the trail.
Other than that, I'm afraid there's not much else I can eliminate from my weight. I have used everything I have more than once. I haven't even been carrying a stove. I bet without the stove the base weight has been closer to 15lbs than 20. I'm probably going to add it back in so I can have some hot drinks and mashed potatoes.
Enough complaining.
As I reached the higher altitudes yesterday the trail leveled off a bit and I started feeling less glum. It's really quite pretty up here.
Late in the afternoon I could see the town of Wrightwood below. There's a side trail called the Acorn trail that you can take to get there. I had planned to take that trail and call a friend's dad to get a ride into town. I took one look at all that lost altitude and thought there was no way in hell I'd give up all that hard-won elevation gain.
So I hiked past that trail to Guffy camp with visions of a warm, snug, sheltered happy place in the trees. Instead it was a cold, windy as heck place in the trees. I set up my tent and it didn't fall down thanks to the extremely heavy rocks they have up there. But being basically a tarp tent, the wind blew a fine dust into the tent all night. Fortunately my sleeping bag kept me warm enough with me wearing my silk underwear, hazmat suit (purchased at ACE Hardware for about $10) and my Patagonia down sweater. I hope the sleeping quilt I've ordered to hopefully shave a pound off my pack will be as warm.
In the morning I slept in a tiny bit because it was very cold. I packed up and got going around 7AM. I only had 6 miles to go to Highway 2 where I should be able to get a ride.
Along the way the clouds started to look kind of dark. I decided I better get my hazmat suit out and ready. I stopped to do that and realized I was getting really cold so I put the suit on. Just then snow began to fall.
I really enjoyed the snow. With my hiking clothes, hat and scarf, hazmat suit and my Marmot Dri-clime jacket I was plenty warm enough while hiking. Just perfectly warm that I didn't sweat. I marveled at the snow and was happy to be out hiking.
When I reached Highway 2 there was a man from Alabama sitting there eating. His name was Graybeard. I asked him if he was going to Wrightwood and he said yes but there had been no cars coming down the highway. I told him I had a phone number. So I whipped out my phone to call. No service.
No problem. I felt pretty good so a road-walk didn't bother me. The two of us took off down the road to Wrightwood.
Eventually a car with a young driver came by. We tried to thumb a ride but he didn't stop. We tried to figure out why. Maybe because he's too young and thinks hitchhikers are bad people, or maybe he was late for work. No problem. We kept walking in the driving snowfall.
After a few minutes the same car came back and made a U-turn to pick us up. The driver explained he had other hikers in his car already and that's why he didn't stop before. He and his friend had planned to go for a day hike but then the snow changed their plans so they were driving hikers into town instead.
We got the scoop from them on a good place for breakfast and that's where we were dropped off. Graybeard and I went in for breakfast, and then Gary showed up, too. One of Gary's days put my 28 mile day to shame. He basically did my 28 mile day plus another 15 or so, hiking from Deep Springs Hot Springs all the way to Interstate 15 in one day.
After breakfast I cruised the happening hardware store. They had a hiker register and hiker box (a box full of unwanted items). The register had a listing of local families that take in hikers so I called one of them. The Tretters. It's so nice of them to do this. Laundry, Internet, a nice bed in the RV, a hot shower (really super hot, too!)
So I'm going to rest my blistered feet and wait for Tony to arrive tomorrow. Then I'll mail on my bounce bucket to Agua Dulce and buy a few things to make the 90 miles to get there. I'm getting tired of trying to steal TP from outhouses along the way. Time to buy a roll. Then together we'll see what lies ahead on the trail. I hope whatever's ahead is not too disappointing for him. As nice as the trees are here, it's really not a very wild place.
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
I15 at Cajon Pass
When last I wrote I was staying at the hostel in Big Bear. It was so relaxing. I was totally rejuvenated.
I got a ride to the trailhead and I bounded down with super-woman vigor. There was a recent fire and there was a sign on the trail that said day hikers ok but PCT thru-hikers should use the road. I decided to see what the day hikers got to enjoy. My map showed other dirt roads that I could take to get to their official walk-around.
When I got to the spot the day hikers were allowed to go to I could see footsteps continuing onward. So I continued onward too, into the closed area.
I have no idea why it was closed. It was a beautiful trail, freshly worked on. You could still see the marks from the McCloud. Creeks were full, riparian areas unburned. Even burned trees give shade unlike dirt roads. I skipped down the trail feeling happy and strong.
At the end, where the trail met the walk-around again there was a nice stream crossing the road. A whole bunch of hikers were swimming in the creek. I stopped and got in the water a little bit, got out some food and ate. I talked briefly with the other hikers but they were into partying and I didn't want to be brought down. I felt too strong and healthy to be slowed down. So I continued.
I ended up at a campsite called Bench camp at the edge of where the pines grew. The camp was full of scarlet bugler penstemon and hummingbirds. Seemed like a nice place to stay. I camped alone. My first alone night after all this time. A nice 20 miles, too, which was my goal for each day on my way to Wrightwood.
In the morning I got going before 6AM. The trail headed down Deep Creek. It reminded me a lot of the Sisquoc Gorge or Red Rock on a huge scale. The water looked so inviting but as is the PCT way, you stayed way above it. It's a scenic trail so apparently water is for looking at.
At about noon I ended up at Deep Creek Hot Springs. I took a nap under a tree next to the resident naked guy. Every hot springs has one it seems. I alternated between soaking my feet in the hot and in the cold water. A guy named Jeremy was there floating on a pool mattress. He looked so comfortable.
In a couple of hours a breeze came up so I decided to get going. I didn't have as much of a super-woman feeling as yesterday, but I figured if I felt good enough to go I should get going what the getting was good. Just then a bunch of the guys I've been bumping into arrived. I think they may have stayed the night there. They thought I was crazy to keep going.
It was so hot leaving the hot springs, but the breeze and my wet clothes made it bearable. I met some local day hikers who said the temperature was 103. They thought I was crazy to have long sleeves and long pants. I find it's a lot cooler if you're not exposed to the sun. Like portable shade. I would soak my clothes any time there was a side creek. It helped a lot.
The trail reminded me of the 40 mile wall. It went on forever. Eventually I reached a dam on the Mohave river. I didn't know the Mohave had a river. I got to cross deep creek again. I crossed it then sat in the shade for an hour. A bunch of locals with gang tattoos showed up and jumped in the water. I jumped in, too.
They asked me what I was doing. I told them about the PCT. They thought the PCT was a local trail and had no idea it went from Mexico to Canada. The one woman in their group was worried about me. She gave me an apple, an orange and a coke and said she'd pray for me.
Soon I loaded up my stuff and kept going. It was getting late and I had a couple of hours to make my 20 mile goal and find a nice place to camp.
I hiked into the chaparral along a pretty valley and a strange escarpment. I guess the San Andreas Fault is in the area. There was a van-load of geology students at the trailhead.
The hours came and went and about 6PM I started thinking about camping. I knew there was a little spring coming up but the book says no camping. Near to the spring I saw what looked like obvious camping spots carved out of the chaparral. Then I saw a tent. I decided to camp at the little spring. 21 miles.
In the tent was a guy named Steve. After I set up my tent I got inside and started playing my penny whistle. That prompted Steve to come over to my tent, which was really far from his, to say hello. He's a nice guy just like all the hikers. We talked about our hikes and our former lives for a while, then I went to bed.
Early in the morning I got up to the sound of the noisiest birds ever. I got going a little before 6AM. A few hours into the hike my little pinky toe started to hurt. It seems that it's all raw like meat. I couldn't stand the feeling of my shoe against it. So I put on my flip-flop on just the one foot.
At about 8 or 9AM I stumbled upon a cooler full of oranges. So good! I rested a bit there with a guy named Emily's Dad that I had bumped into several times since the day before. After resting, I put my shoe back on.
I hiked a little longer but the shoe wasn't working. So I made a hiking sandal out of my flip-flop and a shoelace. It worked so well I ended up hiking with it on my left foot for the next 15 miles.
I walked along Silverwood lake (I think that's the name) but I didn't go swimming. It was still early and I wasn't hot enough. Too bad because once I left the lake it really heated up and the trail got steep in shadeless, harsh scrub and there was no more water, either.
The trail went up and down with no relief. I wanted to find a shady nook to rest in but couldn't find one. I came upon Steve who was eking out a sliver of shade next to a rock. I made some shade with my Z-rest pad and rested with him for a while. Then it was back to work.
The trail became horrible. It was windy, hot and shadeless. The wind blew so hard on some of the ridges it blew me off course. Unseen rattlesnakes were going off in the bushes. At least that's what I think it was.
I kept hoping to find a nice place to rest but I couldn't find anything nice. The trail just went on and on in this punishing wind and waterless, scorching sun. Eventually my flip-flop foot was hurting because my heel kept crashing into rocks. So I powered down 4 Ibuprofen and put my shoe back on and with brute force, an iron will and fierce determination I powered my way at full speed, passing Steve, passing Emily's Dad (who is a hiking machine) and storming all the way out of this horrible place to Interstate 15, itself a horrible place.
After examining the options, there was only one reasonable option: to walk the .4 miles to the McDonald's, fuel up and sleep at the Best Western. That's where I am now after 28 grueling miles. I don't ever want to walk that many miles again. It's too much. But I guess sometimes there's no choice.
See you in Wrightwood!
I got a ride to the trailhead and I bounded down with super-woman vigor. There was a recent fire and there was a sign on the trail that said day hikers ok but PCT thru-hikers should use the road. I decided to see what the day hikers got to enjoy. My map showed other dirt roads that I could take to get to their official walk-around.
When I got to the spot the day hikers were allowed to go to I could see footsteps continuing onward. So I continued onward too, into the closed area.
I have no idea why it was closed. It was a beautiful trail, freshly worked on. You could still see the marks from the McCloud. Creeks were full, riparian areas unburned. Even burned trees give shade unlike dirt roads. I skipped down the trail feeling happy and strong.
At the end, where the trail met the walk-around again there was a nice stream crossing the road. A whole bunch of hikers were swimming in the creek. I stopped and got in the water a little bit, got out some food and ate. I talked briefly with the other hikers but they were into partying and I didn't want to be brought down. I felt too strong and healthy to be slowed down. So I continued.
I ended up at a campsite called Bench camp at the edge of where the pines grew. The camp was full of scarlet bugler penstemon and hummingbirds. Seemed like a nice place to stay. I camped alone. My first alone night after all this time. A nice 20 miles, too, which was my goal for each day on my way to Wrightwood.
In the morning I got going before 6AM. The trail headed down Deep Creek. It reminded me a lot of the Sisquoc Gorge or Red Rock on a huge scale. The water looked so inviting but as is the PCT way, you stayed way above it. It's a scenic trail so apparently water is for looking at.
At about noon I ended up at Deep Creek Hot Springs. I took a nap under a tree next to the resident naked guy. Every hot springs has one it seems. I alternated between soaking my feet in the hot and in the cold water. A guy named Jeremy was there floating on a pool mattress. He looked so comfortable.
In a couple of hours a breeze came up so I decided to get going. I didn't have as much of a super-woman feeling as yesterday, but I figured if I felt good enough to go I should get going what the getting was good. Just then a bunch of the guys I've been bumping into arrived. I think they may have stayed the night there. They thought I was crazy to keep going.
It was so hot leaving the hot springs, but the breeze and my wet clothes made it bearable. I met some local day hikers who said the temperature was 103. They thought I was crazy to have long sleeves and long pants. I find it's a lot cooler if you're not exposed to the sun. Like portable shade. I would soak my clothes any time there was a side creek. It helped a lot.
The trail reminded me of the 40 mile wall. It went on forever. Eventually I reached a dam on the Mohave river. I didn't know the Mohave had a river. I got to cross deep creek again. I crossed it then sat in the shade for an hour. A bunch of locals with gang tattoos showed up and jumped in the water. I jumped in, too.
They asked me what I was doing. I told them about the PCT. They thought the PCT was a local trail and had no idea it went from Mexico to Canada. The one woman in their group was worried about me. She gave me an apple, an orange and a coke and said she'd pray for me.
Soon I loaded up my stuff and kept going. It was getting late and I had a couple of hours to make my 20 mile goal and find a nice place to camp.
I hiked into the chaparral along a pretty valley and a strange escarpment. I guess the San Andreas Fault is in the area. There was a van-load of geology students at the trailhead.
The hours came and went and about 6PM I started thinking about camping. I knew there was a little spring coming up but the book says no camping. Near to the spring I saw what looked like obvious camping spots carved out of the chaparral. Then I saw a tent. I decided to camp at the little spring. 21 miles.
In the tent was a guy named Steve. After I set up my tent I got inside and started playing my penny whistle. That prompted Steve to come over to my tent, which was really far from his, to say hello. He's a nice guy just like all the hikers. We talked about our hikes and our former lives for a while, then I went to bed.
Early in the morning I got up to the sound of the noisiest birds ever. I got going a little before 6AM. A few hours into the hike my little pinky toe started to hurt. It seems that it's all raw like meat. I couldn't stand the feeling of my shoe against it. So I put on my flip-flop on just the one foot.
At about 8 or 9AM I stumbled upon a cooler full of oranges. So good! I rested a bit there with a guy named Emily's Dad that I had bumped into several times since the day before. After resting, I put my shoe back on.
I hiked a little longer but the shoe wasn't working. So I made a hiking sandal out of my flip-flop and a shoelace. It worked so well I ended up hiking with it on my left foot for the next 15 miles.
I walked along Silverwood lake (I think that's the name) but I didn't go swimming. It was still early and I wasn't hot enough. Too bad because once I left the lake it really heated up and the trail got steep in shadeless, harsh scrub and there was no more water, either.
The trail went up and down with no relief. I wanted to find a shady nook to rest in but couldn't find one. I came upon Steve who was eking out a sliver of shade next to a rock. I made some shade with my Z-rest pad and rested with him for a while. Then it was back to work.
The trail became horrible. It was windy, hot and shadeless. The wind blew so hard on some of the ridges it blew me off course. Unseen rattlesnakes were going off in the bushes. At least that's what I think it was.
I kept hoping to find a nice place to rest but I couldn't find anything nice. The trail just went on and on in this punishing wind and waterless, scorching sun. Eventually my flip-flop foot was hurting because my heel kept crashing into rocks. So I powered down 4 Ibuprofen and put my shoe back on and with brute force, an iron will and fierce determination I powered my way at full speed, passing Steve, passing Emily's Dad (who is a hiking machine) and storming all the way out of this horrible place to Interstate 15, itself a horrible place.
After examining the options, there was only one reasonable option: to walk the .4 miles to the McDonald's, fuel up and sleep at the Best Western. That's where I am now after 28 grueling miles. I don't ever want to walk that many miles again. It's too much. But I guess sometimes there's no choice.
See you in Wrightwood!
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