It’s been another week of learning on the trail. Wind and condensation have been a nightmare, I earned a trail name, we hitched a ride for the first time, saw our first snake and finally threw away our deodorant (because really what’s the point?).
Day 8
It was a novelty to wake up and not have to pack up straight away. There’s not much to discuss about today; it was a day of rest and recovery. We spent time talking with camp mates, reading by the pool and rehabilitation exercises for me. My leg was no longer burning or causing shooting pains when I put weight on it, instead it had formed a dull ache. We were hopeful that we’d be able to get back out onto trail the following evening.
We’d struck a friendship with campmate Elvis, from Ukraine. He’s a published author who hikes full-time and has a following amongst Ukrainian soldiers. His goal is to create a long distance walk in his home country once the war is over to help those who served bridge their way back to civilian life. We’re simply in awe of him: while we’re hiking this for our own self interest he’s inspiring a nation at war.
Killing time at Stagecoaches
That evening, our tent noisily blew about in the onslaught of wind. I could just make out the sound of a coyote howling over it.
Day 9
I woke suddenly in the early hours, sitting bolt upright. Something had pulled at my leg, I was sure of it. I couldn’t hear anything over the wind and it was too dark to see. Dan awoke too because of my sudden movement. He rubbed my back for a while, reassuring me it was okay and it was just the wind. I laid back down thinking logically that it was the wind, yet feeling disturbed, sure that a phantom now lost to the wind tugged at my leg.
In the morning I still felt on edge; I was sure I hadn’t imagined the sensation. I looked down at my foot and thought I saw a series of holes in the tent by my feet. I put my glasses on for a better look. Sure enough, there were bite marks in the tent wall and mesh liner in the distinct shape of a Canids snout. I hadn’t imagined it: a coyote nudged my leg as I slept.
We don’t think it was an attack, maybe the coyote was curious or something it was chasing ran under our tent flap
Disbelief took over the camp with everyone photographing the damage and coming over to hear the tale. And so, Coyote, became my trail name.
Before staring the trail, Dan and I felt that trail names were a little cringy. However, it only took a couple of days for our mindsets to change. The thing is, you meet so many people on trail that remembering names is hard. Trail names are normally derived from funny anecdotes on trail or from a characteristic of a hiker. They are much more memorable, especially when you ask about their origin.
Repairing the tent became the priority for the day. The outside was easily taped, but inside the mesh required stitching, and one gash in the mesh was too frayed to simply pull together. I cut off the label from my trousers and sewed it over the hole which seemed to work.
If my stitch-work was any good you would have thought Zpacks were doing a collaboration with Rab!
We waited out the heat of the day, passing the time by reading and writing. At 4pm we packed up and left the camp to attempt our first ever hitch. We found a spot at the side of the road where a car could safely stop. I stood up front with Dan about 50m behind me. After about five cars drove by, a pick up truck stopped and we dumped out packs in the back and got in. Delighted, we thanked John, the kind soul who took pity on us unkempt hikers. He dropped us right at the trail head and waved us off. Successful hitch complete.
Going in for the first hitch of the trail
Back on trail. The next 25 miles was an exposed section with only one water source as we ascended into the San Filipe Hills. The terrain is a combination of rock and orange dirt both of which is spotted with hardy plants which vary in colour from a grey-purple to a dull green. The whole walk looked like we were climbing a rock garden with succulents and cacti poking out of the stone. After six miles of climbing we spotted Elvis on the next ridge, his arms open wide welcoming us to a campsite.
Back on trail!
We snuggled down inside the tent, both feeling elated to be back on trail. Again, it appeared to be a windy night, but at the time of writing there have been no more coyote encounters!
Day 10
The previous night was the most disruptive night sleep we have had so far on trail. The wind battered us from every direction. Even sheltered by rocks we weren’t safe. We could hear a gust building in momentum, like a song reaching climax and we would brace awaiting the hit. We had to re-pitch the tent twice in the night. At one point the wind managed to launch the sand from the floor into our faces. In the morning everything was coated with a thin, gold-speckled layer of grit.
Sleepily we packed away the tent and moved onwards in search of water. The sky drizzled and we donned our waterproof ponchos on a windy trail ledge. It was a physically easy day of walking but mentally we were both a little fed up.
Eight miles in we reached the water source as the drizzle become rain. The tent went up and we collapsed under the shelter, instantly drifting in and out of sleep.
Our haven from the rain, finally well sheltered
The rain didn’t let up, and from what we’d heard, campsites further on were even more exposed. Meanwhile, we were sheltered here and stood a better chance of getting a good night sleep. We cut our losses and stayed put, thankfully getting some shut-eye.
Day 11
It had rained all night and was still raining in the morning. But, having slept well, we both awoke feeling more positive about life on trail. We packed up and weathered the rain as we continued upwards, finally reaching the top of the pass and heading down into the valley. The rain let up and ten miles into our hike we took a break for coffee and lunch.
The next section of trail was dreamy as the path meandered through wildflower meadows. In the harsh wind these appeared to move like light in water, silvers dancing through the field. It was unlike anything I’ve ever seen, blues, purples, greens and yellows shimmering and moving like a river. We then saw from a distance the iconic Eagle Rock, recognisable even from half a mile away.
We took a snack break here, hiding from the wind in one of the eagles wing, which proved to be well sheltered.
Soon we were walking by a creek and arrived at the Warner Springs Community Resource Centre. The hall had been turned into a hiker hub with bucket washing, hot showers, charging points and a small shop selling basic resupply. We got in and helped ourselves to coffee and left over spaghetti which we reheated. We showered outside and then proceeded to wash our clothes in a bucket. No matter how many times we rinsed them through the water remained dark and merky!
Very thankful to these volunteers for this resource
We met a few people we knew from trail, some of which we haven’t seen in over a week. One of them started to talk about the girl who’s tent was attacked by a coyote. News travels quickly on the PCT.
We camped by the creek next to the centre with intentions of returning again in the morning for coffee.
Day 12
No wind tonight, but we woke to condensation on almost everything inside the tent. We packed up and headed back to the resource centre where we enjoyed coffee and used the kettle for our oats. Dan even treated himself to a microwaveable breakfast roll.
We headed on out and began our day of trekking. The walking was tough today: incline all the way, long water carries and the trail offered little shade from the scorching sun. It was the first time my legs felt achy and I longed for a cool water stream to soak my feet in.
Last moment of shade and water for 12 miles
In the afternoon we found ourselves in a boulder field. Large circular stones looked as if they had been dropped on the hill side, some rolling down stopping in various places while the majority sat in piles. These rocks were a combination of reds, whites, yellows and greys. The layers of colours could probably tell a geologist a complex history of each rock, but I could only marvel at their individuality and beauty.
We hobbled into Mike’s Place, a trail angels home where hikers can camp and refill water. Mike had the pizza oven ready to go and we were able to roll out dough before adding toppings.
Our own veggie supreme
We’ve been moving with the same lot of hikers for the past three days now. We’re beginning to get to know them but we still feel like the outsiders, late to the party. It makes us miss our own trail family who are a few days ahead of us and we’re keen to catch up with them.
Day 13
The battle against condensation continues. We woke to water dripping from the ceiling this morning and once again my sleeping bag was wet. This was despite leaving the tent doors open to improve ventilation.
Signing the wall at Mike’s Place (our tag is in the bottom right corner)
We were the last to leave Mike’s Place. We could hear Mike yelling at those leaving to add to the donation jar. It was a hostile demand, a far cry from the persona he took on yesterday: joking about and chatty. We obviously left a donation, we were always planning to. After all, we were well provided for: able to get water where no water would be otherwise and the pizza was a welcomed addition. But the yelling and hostility for us to leave a donation did sour the experience.
Water is scarce in these parts. From Mike’s place the next water source was 13.7 miles away. A trail angel called Mike (another Mike!) DeBenedettis has opened his property to PCT hikers this year after hearing how dry this section of the PCT is. On arrival we were greeted with cold sodas, hot dogs and ice lollies. There’s also toilet facilities, wifi and several dogs who enjoy a good cuddle. There were campsites, but we decided to push on a little further. The difference between the two Mike’s was extreme: we enjoyed it so much here we ended up staying and chatting for 3 hours before moving on.
Much needed Dr Pepper at the other Mike’s Place
The last 2.5 miles was a challenge, there was a lot of up hill and our packs were heavy with water as we would be dry camping. We found a place to pitch in the crook of a switchback with a view of they valley below. We opted for an early night with plans to hike 10 before 10 tomorrow morning (covering 10 miles before 10am).
Day 14
We woke at 5am and were away from camp just over an hour later. We paced on upwards knowing Paradise Valley Cafe (PVC) was exactly 10 miles away. As we trudged upwards we met Alex and Josh, a couple from Alabama who we kept crossing paths with. Chatting with them helped time and distance move faster.
We reached PVC for 09:20, meaning we had achieved our target of 10 miles before 10am. After stretching, we grabbed our resupply package then crashed into seats at an outdoor table. This restaurant is a popular hiker spot boasting great food and large portions. Dan ordered a breakfast burrito, myself omelette with hash browns and toast, between us we then shared three large buttermilk pancakes with syrup.
We grabbed a ride with Alex and Josh into Idyllwild. This was not our intention, our plan was to keep walking today, but Dan had bad chaffing on his hips with open abrasions so we thought best to get them cleaned and covered before continuing. Idyllwild is a small mountain town, well known on the PCT for having a dog as its Mayor: Mayor Max III, a golden retriever oblivious to his position of power.
The town is full of charm; pine trees surrounding wooden shops, restaurants and cabins: a real winter wonderland in the heart of the desert section.
The price of a town day means completing town chores and we had quite the list to get through, starting with laundry. We headed straight for the laundromat where there was a box of clothes for hikers to wear while washing their own. Normally, I would be grossed out by this, but no clothes in there could be worse than the ones I was wearing. It took about a hour to wash and dry our laundry and once done, we checked into our cabin for the night.
Killing time waiting for washing
We bathed away the dirt and grime, but no matter how much we tried, we could not get rid of the lingering sour scent of body odour. Dan washed up our cooking equipment and the many empty sandwhich bags which had held food and flushed the water filters. Meanwhile, I ran inventory on our food, mapped out and planned our resupply for the next two weeks.
At 4pm we met with Alex and Josh for milkshakes before being joined by a friend of theirs, Ronny. We sat on the terrace of our cabin watching the evening light dwindle before heading off for burgers (they even had a smashed salmon burger for me). To finish the evening we headed back to the cabin where we watched The Wedding Crashers on the DVD set up from the comfort of a proper bed, our first since leaving San Diego.
Week 2 on trail completed: we passed the 100 mile marker, and reached our next big town. Luckily my injury now seems resolved. Dan has some bad chafing on his back but some anti-chaf balm should resolve that. I have two blisters, one on each heel, but bathing seems to be improving them. Mentally we’re feeling great, enjoying how unique this adventure is. Our only frustration is being behind the group we started with. Maybe next week we’ll close the gap!
