I found that hiking the PCT has provided an endless supply of experiences. So many different thoughts, situations and experiences happen every day, that I have a hard time keeping track of it all, explaining stories to friends and family or even just remembering everything in general. I don’t think I will remember everything, which makes living in every moment even more special.
I’ve finally arrived here in Kennedy Meadows, which is about mile marker 703 and the official end of the Desert section. Honestly, much of the trail has been overwhelming. From the extreme heat, lack of water and home sickness; making it to the Kennedy Meadows general store and having a handful of complete strangers cheer for you, as you approach the porch was quite the milestone and emotional experience. Its been 430 miles since my last post, and my mind is bursting with thoughts, experiences and stories within the story.
Back I was ready to leave Big Bear, I jumped on the free bus leaving the village and jumped off near VanDusen Canyon Road where I needed to hitch a ride a few miles up a steep gravel road back to the PCT. Shortly after I started my walk up the road, a white Chevy suburban, im guessing from the mid 90s, came rolling up and I stuck my thumb out. The guy pulled over and asked if I needed a ride, so I jumped in. It was an older couple, Fred and Bonnie. Apparently they had lived in the big Bear area for quite some time and we’re very familiar with this road. They were just going up to see how it was because there had been some repairs and the road had just seasonally reopened not long ago. They knew a lot about the PCT and thru hikers, but were very interested in hearing what I had to say. They were so sweet. After sharing life stories on a short trip up a bumpy road we stopped at the trail intersection. As I got out, Bonnie offered me a handful of some of her fresh cherries that they had just purchased at the farmers market that Sunday morning, which I happily took her up on. I offered them some gas money, which they immediately rejected and wished me luck on my hike. As I started walking to the trail, Fred honked his horn and they waved goodbye at me. I couldn’t help but to feel like a kid being sent off to school. As quickly as they picked me up was as fast as they dropped me off and with a handful of fresh cherries and my pack on my back, I was back on the trail all alone.
After getting back on trail, and feeling a little stronger after my first bout of tendinitis in my right ankle, I began feeling stronger. Making some new friends along the way, I made it to the Deep Creek Canyon Hot Springs. Feel short of getting there in the evening with newfound friends, but made new friends after a quick dip in the piping hot water that morning.
After making my way out of the canyon I made it to Cajon Pass. While hiking this part of the trail, you are abruptly transported from a shrubby desert area to a dramatic ridge line walk with some spectacular views. I guess maybe it was just the late afternoon time of day with low angle sunlight that made it spectacular to me, but it doesn’t really matter. I found a nice little camp spot less than a mile from the infamous Cajon pass McDonald’s, where I pondered what breakfast items I would order and listened to the incessant yet soothing sounds of freight train horns. It was strange to be somewhere that felt so remote yet so close to civilization. A feeling Ive learned is often times the case in southern California.
I would make my way into Wrightwood after exiting the PCT because of a trail closure, hiking down a steep gravel road to a highway where I would get a hitch with friends from yet another friendly individual. Some of my new friends I had made that past week invited me to stay with them in an Airbnb For 50 bucks. A great way to save some cash in comparison to the $150 I’d likely spend on a motel. I was apprehensive at first feeling like I selfishly just wanted to have my own room, privacy and some peace and quiet, likely worth $150. But sitting in a room by yourself I wouldn’t make any friends or memories. Plus I knew I would take a zero day the following day and could get my peace and quiet that following night.
My zero day was spent going to the grocery store, the post office and hanging out with some friends and drinking some beers. In the middle of drinking one of my Coors banquet beers, I got a text from my wife. She had injured her knee and it sounded serious. I immediately felt terrible for her. I wanted to know how bad was it? How did it happen? Why did it happen? What can I do…? All the normal thoughts when something like this happens. Then it dawned on me that if the injury was serious enough, I would come home and take care of her, the dog and the house. I felt absolutely terrible that I wasn’t home and was out on this hike. Such a helpless feeling and position to be in. I immediately gave her a call and made sure that she knew that she was more important to me than the PCT and if I needed to come home, I would. We determined that she would tough it out like the bad ass that she is until we knew what to do. With an enormous amount of help from some amazing friends and hard work doing pt, it seems as though I’ll be able to stay on the trail for the time being. Im forever in debt to the friends that have helped to walk our 120 pound dog and also helped keep her spirits up while I’m away.
Continuing out of Wrightwood and the uncertainty of things back home, I would often times be with familiar faces at camp, water sources and siesta spots, but much of the actual hiking was done alone. I prefer it this way. I don’t like having to keep pace with all of my friends who are faster than me or even keeping pace with new people I happen to be meeting or chatting with on the trail. I just wanna go my own pace and pay attention to my body. I also like making all my own decisions even if it means being alone. It is empowering and confidence building to make most of my own choices on where and when I’m going to stop for a stretch break, where to stop for water and how much water to carry, how far I plan to hike that day and where am I going to camp. It’s nice to bounce ideas off of friends, but ultimately, I’m going to try and do what I think is best for me.
The days began to fly by and so did the miles. Every night that I set up my tent, laying on my sleeping bag and arranging all my belongings, I would always think to myself… Didn’t I just do this? It felt like an hour ago, I was just putting up my tent. Hiking all day takes all your time. Trying to make miles as you burn through a landscape that seems to change yet never change, was quite the time warp.
I made my way through Acton, a very strange town filled with miniature movie sets and failed Hollywood dreams; and even stranger hitchhiking experiences.
Then the hike will take you to Agua Dulce. A small town where the trail literally goes right down Main Street. That night my new friends had decided that they would be going to the Mexican restaurant having margaritas and doing karaoke. But for me, I couldn’t help, but to want to just move on. I had done my fair share of drinking in the towns I had stopped in and at that point, all I wanted was to get a nice quiet camp spot, cook a Ramen, get in my comfortable tent and listen to the coyotes as I fell asleep. I found, listening to the coyotes at night to be one of my most favorite aspects of hiking in the desert. What were they out there hunting? How many were there? How close to me were they really? Sometimes it feels like they’re right outside my tent… but likely much farther than it sounded. At night in the desert, you could hear a pin drop from a mile away.
By now the heat had become a major factor in the hike. Between the hours of 12 PM and 3:30 PM, the heat is brutal. Waking up early to get a headstart on the day and taking some extended brakes in the shade whenever available have become the norm. Making our way through Green Valley, Lake Hughes, and down to the true desert into Hikertown was very hot.
Hiker town… it was like a wild west movie set completely deserted in the middle of nowhere. Because that’s what it was. Apparently there’s some seemingly wealthy guy who created Hikertown, which is as strange as the name would make it sound. I arrived during an excruciatingly hot afternoon to find a couple dozen hikers lying about in any bit of shade they could find from these little structures. Exhausted, filthy, sweaty, salty, just rolling around in the dusty, desert wasteland trying your best to get some rest. Most people waiting for the sun to go down so you could begin your hike through the LA aqueduct during cooler temperatures. I met the one guy who didn’t appear to be a hiker and I asked him… Where do I pick up my packages? This was the first and only resupply that I had sent to myself in the desert section because I had heard there is nothing there. The man replied telling me to go behind that building and look for Jim. So I went around one of the rundown pieces of old movie decor, I think it was the sheriffs office… Didn’t see Jim, but did see a couple of old RVs. So I just called out Jim!? And an old man came stumbling out of his RV. Apparently I had interrupted his midday Siesta as well. He showed me to some strange, small locked room where there was at least another hundred packages all packed in there. After a few minutes of shuffling around, I found mine and was back to the prime real estate in the shade unpackaging a box of hiker food into my backpack. All I could think was how the hell do I get out of here…. So I was able to get a ride to the market a few miles down the road. Apparently the owner of hiker town also owns this market, which is free for anyone to stay at. A wise business strategy, as anyone who decided to visit and potentially stay the night there would ultimately be spending money on food drinks, and beer. A random assortment of different foods and the longer you stay there the more you realize it’s actually a decent little option for any local people in the area. For us hikers it also provided a place to stay the night.
The next morning, the market was open and we were eating breakfast burritos, waiting out the heat of the day to hike the LA aqueduct in the evening. Some sort of a right of passage or ritual for many through hikers. We managed to hitch a ride around 5 PM back to the trail and begin walking over this giant round metal aqueduct during a beautiful sunset. It felt festive with all the people a bit of a desert rave party. After the sun set, and right when you didn’t think things could get any stranger, we began hiking through a gigantic wind turbine farm. Gigantic wind turbines with bright red flashing lights, reminiscent of some sort of evil, futuristic science fiction movie. The trail took you so close to the turbines, you can hear the massive blades breaking through the air. After approximately 24 miles and 12 hours of some of the strangest hiking I’ve ever done, I arrived at a small creek. A very popular stop for everyone on the stretch of the trail. The sun was about to rise so I quickly set up my tent to try and get to sleep. Two hours later. I woke up to hot sun and uncomfortably warm temperatures. The one large siesta tree was already full of sleeping hikers and a large rattlesnake so I opted to pack up my belongings and get the fuck out of there. Only about another 16 miles to get to Tehachapi. One of the worst days on trail for me as I was alone it was hot and I didn’t want to be there.
After taking a zero day in Tehachapi, the trail heat and water scarcity only got worse. It only got hotter, dryer and more sun exposed with longer water carries. Multiple stretches of around 20 miles between water sources was the norm. A few times relying on large water cashews, which was unnerving.
Finishing off that portion was a bit of a relief, but unfortunately, as I neared Walker Pass, I had pains in my left ankle. Which felt all too familiar to the same strange pains I had in my right ankle 600 miles earlier. By the time we were resupplying in Ridgecrest, I knew I had to stop for a few days to have a virtual PT appointment about my tendinitis and let it heal. It was an upsetting time to have something like that kick in again after your feeling strong, pushing through the desert and only being about 50 miles away from Kennedy Meadows. Especially during my birthday. I was stopped dead in my tracks, sitting in some shitty motel room doing physical therapy and watching a number of different movies on cable television, including, but not limited to The Departed and My Cousin Vinny.
after 3 1/2 days and then bus ride back to the trailhead I was hiking again. Doing my best to manage the pain. This last 50 miles was interesting as you truly got to watch the landscape evolve and got glimpses of snow covered mountains far off in the distance… which was enough motivation to keep going just knowing that you are that close to the Sierras.
I don’t know how the rest my trip will go, but I don’t think anybody knows how their hike will go. That’s all part of the adventure I guess. I am excited to be starting a new section with some new scenery and new challenges. I’m just trying my best to learn from the trail, enjoy the experience for what it is and make friends along the way. You can never get to attached to any person or place as you know these are all fleeting moments…. which again what makes them so special.
