PCT Week 3: 200-307 – The Journey

Day 15: 200-219

A beautiful morning descent into the Coachella Valley and I ran into some hikers I had seen at the Saddle Crossing. We all agreed that In-N-Out in Cabazon should be our reward. When we reached the valley, the wind picked up and although it was flat, it was like walking uphill with winds of at least 50 mph. After seven miles from the campground, at the I-10 overpass, a «Legend» trail angel took me to In-N-Out just as it opened. One animal-style double-double and a shake later and I felt a little more human. I grabbed more snacks from the travel center and was back on the trail at 130 pm. I walked another 12 miles passing wind farms, while the same wind that was blowing California houses also tried to blow me off the mountain. I finally found a good camping spot on the whitewater river and was very happy. After 15 days I finally had a campsite to myself, without hearing anyone nearby camping. The kind of wilderness camp I had been dreaming of. I’m glad for once that I don’t have to fit as many tents as possible into a tight space on the side of a hill. Swarms of bats flew above me and sometimes surprisingly close to my head as I prepared my dinner for the night: ramen with Spam.

Day 16: 219-235

Hikers had warned me about Mission Creek, but I thought, «How bad could it be?» Well, what followed was the least enjoyable day of hiking ever. Large portions of the trail had been washed away into the creek, leaving countless water crossings, awkward rocks, and loose river rocks to walk over for nearly ten miles. It was difficult to choose between just walking along the creek or trying to hike to some of the smaller remaining sections of the trail. My ankles were wrecked and my tendinitis was aggravated by all the uneven, moving rocks, so I found a section of the PCT to climb back up. Here I had my first interesting wildlife encounter with a curious fox. We approached along the path and, to my dismay, the fox continued to approach, with its mouth open, almost panting. I rallied my sticks in their direction and shouted, which only slowed their approach. I started to worry that for some reason this fox was going to attack me. Then, unexpectedly, he dropped to the ground on the trail and started rolling around like a dog trying to detect a scent from the ground, and then just stood there on the trail looking at me. I backed up and left the trail to find a path around which he then got up and skipped down the trail after me. Now, standing in a grassy meadow, I had to remind myself to keep an eye out for rattlesnakes, too. With my left ankle sprained, I found the next available campsite at mile 235 and arrived early in the afternoon. It is best to rest and hope to feel better in the morning. After I set up camp, four other hikers arrived and crowded into the spot.

Day 17: 235-259

I knew I had a big day ahead of me trying to make as much progress toward Big Bear as I could. I had thirty-one miles left to the city and I wanted the next day to be shorter. I started very early and was on the road at 5:15 am. I still had a few more miles of Mission Creek grade to contend with, but once I reached mile 239, the trail had turned back and climbed into the mountains. After filling up on water for the 16 mile ride, I ran up the slopes to take in beautiful views of San Gorgonio and even a peak on Mount Baldy in the distance, feeling at home again in the mountain forests. The long gradual climbs, the smell of towering cedar trees, and the partly cloudy sky calmed me. So much so that I kept walking. A few short breaks to enjoy the views and some sweets to fuel the climb. With the help of the cool weather, I completed my longest day yet, 24 miles, leaving me only seven miles to the city. I ate my last dinner, biscuits and gravy, and snuggled into my quilt for another cold night. It is expected to reach sub-zero temperatures.

Day 18: 259-266

All I could think about the last two days was a great breakfast, so my first stop in the city of Big Bear was the Grizzly Manor Cafe. It was everything I dreamed of and I was even impressed by how much I could eat. Hiker hunger has really gotten to me. I went to the grocery store and replenished, focusing on better breakfasts to fuel my hikes, as well as lunch and plenty of snacks and sweets. Even after a big breakfast, food for the next six days was still a priority. I met up with a hiker from my original trail family for dinner and had a good rest at the Airbnb.

Day 19: Great Bear Zero

It snowed about 1 inch the night before, so I enjoyed a cozy day inside, resting my legs and making protein balls and cookies to get me on the trail. It was a cold day, so I was very grateful to be inside: cozy and warm.

Day 20: 266-285

Views over Big Bear Lake

After another great breakfast, I started the day at 9:45am at the Highway 18 trailhead. I hiked until around 1pm and took a short break for lunch. I had covered about 8.5 miles and still had 10.5 to go to reach the Little Bear Springs PCT Campground. Along the way we had spectacular views of the lake, low clouds, and snow-capped peaks behind Big Bear Lake. There were still patches of snow on the north side of the mountain from the recent storm. And the smell of pine and cedar mixed with the moist earth. Then the slow descent to camp, with some sharp, overgrown bushes that scratched and sometimes scraped my legs on the way down, making me question my choice of trail shorts. I arrived at camp around 6pm with enough time to rehydrate my Mediterranean couscous meal I had prepared and replenish my water supplies before sunset. A cold afternoon was approaching, so I buttoned up my quilt and was lulled to sleep by the nearby great horned owl in the pines.

Day 21: 285-307

deep stream

It was surprisingly cold during the night, with frost covering the inside of the tent. Coldest night yet on the PCT while camping at 6500 feet. I couldn’t feel my fingers, they hurt as I tried to put my tent back into its stuff bag. I left camp around 7am and for the first mile and a half I switched every 15 minutes between walking with my poles and placing them under my armpits while blowing hot air on my fingers to bring them back to life. A good reminder to get some warmer gloves before the Sierras. The trail around Deep Creek was one of the most treacherous sections so far, skirting a steep ridge with many spots of loose sand and mudslides. A few small moments of loss of concentration: looking back to see if someone was keeping up or approaching, a stumble or a misstep could prove costly. More than once a slight misstep caused that foot to start sliding down the loose gravel and I was lucky enough to catch myself with my hiking pole. Sobering moments of the fragility of the trail when subjected to Mother Nature. It was another long day, 22 miles with the goal of reaching the hot springs at mile 307, while celebrating the 300 mile mark along the way. Interestingly, whoever made and placed these posts ruined this one because it showed 2530 to go to Canada 😅. My feet hurt, but I finally got there and was able to find a place for my tent in the sand. There were over a dozen PCT hikers and a few locals camped at the hot springs. I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to soothe my sore muscles in the natural hot springs and then soak in the river.

2350 or 2530?

Reflections:

I’ve been walking alone for most days this week, as I wanted. Only a few hikers pass by throughout the day, but the large groups that end up congregating around the large camps are always surprising. I see all the people and groups on the trail (lone wolves, retirees, loose trail families, tight trail families) and I still have a hard time finding my comfortable place on the trail. A place where I feel like I belong. I feel like a walking contradiction, as I often do in normal life, a parallel to the road. Unable to find a personal balance between planned isolation (lone wolf) or belonging (trail family). I see many others, particularly the young ones, having a great time on the trail, communicating, laughing and enjoying the experience. Although I am often too tired to do anything but think about food, water and sleep. Maybe it’s also part of who I am, quiet and reserved. I’m sure the fun parts will come, as they did in the beginning. But for now, as the Green Day song laments: In constant refutation of myself, victim of a vicious cycle.

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