The Battle Between Trail Stages and Blisters in Week 4: Big Bear to Wrightwood

Every day on the trail makes you stronger. Even on days when they don’t feel strong at all. Some days I feel like I’m flying over the trail, like I could keep walking forever. I love those days.

But it seems that every strong day is followed by more blisters. And yeah… that sucks. Even in my overly optimistic mind. So I have a little battle between my legs gaining strength and my blisters holding me back.

A brief history of me and my blisters.

My blisters and I have been going on for a long time. Even as a kid, I remember snapping at those little bastards. I use them in every shoe I wear, even comfortable street sneakers. So when I started walking, I tried all kinds of walking brands and shoes. None of them worked. Double socks don’t work. Preventive tape doesn’t work. Different lacing techniques don’t work. Keeping a thread in, rubbing my skin with something that’s supposed to make it tough… no.

Apparently my heels are very narrow. But narrow shoes don’t fit the front of my foot.

So the best option so far is the wide version of the Hoka Speedgoat, in a larger size, with custom-made insoles. But still… like annoying mosquitoes you can’t ignore, the blisters keep targeting my heels.

A battle and some happiness.

My body is adapting very well to the PCT. I’ve been walking 21 miles a day and my body is totally fine with that. I often take a moment to thank my body for giving me this incredibly wonderful experience, and in return, I try to take good care of it.

I’m getting stronger. I can go through longer days and still take as many small breaks as I want to “stop and look,” just to take in all the beauty around me.

Because it’s not just about traveling kilometers. I’m here to enjoy the PCT as much as I can. So if I see an awesome campsite sooner than planned, maybe I’ll take it. Simply because that place will give me more happiness than doing extra kilometers.

But if I can do more kilometers per day, I do want to do it.

And that’s where the battle begins. Because after a day in which I felt like I was flying, my blisters bring me back to the ground. Don’t forget about us, they seem to say.

When they start to hurt, I can’t walk the miles that the rest of my body wants to.

And they come with a new problem: I start walking more on the balls of my feet to avoid pain. This style of walking even gave me the name of my trail. But now my ball of foot is also starting to hurt.

So yes, the battle between my legs and my blisters is very real these days. I have to continue finding balance.

But like I said, I’m an optimist. I truly believe that one day the blisters will stop fighting.

And when they do… wow. Then I will be able to enjoy this magical adventure even more than I already do.

how were my days

Of course, my days were filled with so much beauty.

Day 22: One of those flying days.

Oh, it feels so good to be back on the road. I feel rested, energized, and love walking these winding trails again. From time to time, I look up at Big Bear and the beautiful snow-capped peaks behind it.

As I continue walking, I enter a new valley. The backdrop is lush and green thanks to Holcomb Creek. The magic of water is incredible, and walking through dry areas makes you appreciate it even more.

I camp near the creek in a lovely little spot.

Day 23: The inevitable blisters

There they are. The blisters. They want to keep me company, but I don’t feel the same.

Incoming: walking on tiptoe.

The trail is impressive though. In the distance you can see the snow-capped peak of Mount Baden-Powell. I continue following and crossing the stream.

In the afternoon I enter the Deep Creek area. I take a break on a nice little sandy beach and decide to continue a little further. High above the stream, I love the constant sound of the water and the views of the river and its waterfalls.

I camp with that peaceful sound in the background.

Day 24: Serenity and peace.

It is impossible not to appreciate the rivers that I follow all day. Filtering the water into these serene little oases gives me a deep sense of calm.

Until the flies get too curious and I decide to move on.

But I take breaks in various streams and each one of them gives me the same sense of peace. Somehow filtering water today seems like a little Zen ritual, every time.

Day 25: Noise and beauty of civilization.

Just after I start hiking, I pass a large dam and walk a bit before climbing onto the trail above Silverwood Lake.

This artificial lake is widely used for recreation, which means noise and trash. The lake itself, however, is absolutely stunning among the mountains.

As I left the area, I heard a loud scream from a parking lot. Magic of the trail.

I rush down and meet three incredibly friendly trail angels with a fully stocked picnic table, everything a hiker could dream of. I still can’t believe this kind of generosity, but I am so grateful.

Later, I encountered a very angry but very beautiful rattlesnake, and shortly after, a cute little snake that politely moved out of my way.

I pitch my tent on the beautiful bed of an empty river. Instead of the peaceful sounds of nature, I hear the horns of trains and the hum of power lines. Civilization is near.

Day 26: Driving the climb

First stop: McDonald’s in Cajon Pass.

As a vegetarian, their breakfast menu is basically my only option, so it’s no coincidence that it arrives in the morning. It’s cold and foggy, so a hot breakfast feels like heaven.

As I continue walking, I watch a freight train from the top of a hill. These things are crazy, seven engines, and for so long I can’t see both ends at once.

After another bit of trail magic in the form of a water tank, I head up into the mountains. The clouds are gradually clearing and the views are getting better and better.

I stop frequently, just to take it all in. My body feels strong, I walk 21 miles, and after that breakfast, I enjoy every one of them.

Day 27: Fire and ice

As I start walking, the clouds slowly surround me. There are no views, although I know they must be incredible at this altitude. It’s colder. The wind rises.

Then I enter a burned area. Combined with the weather, it feels eerie. The wind is so strong that it makes me lose my balance and visibility continues to decrease. Everything turns gray.

And then, suddenly, Jim appears. In full color.

«Hello, trail magic. Orange or chips?»

I feel very grateful. Even the clouds seem to part a little when I sit down and eat my orange.

But soon the clouds thicken again. I enter a logging area, with noisy machines grinding and sawing. The floor is covered in wood chips and it is very cold. I’m not having fun.

Until I pass the logging and notice the frost covering the trees. It’s absolutely beautiful. Ice in a burned landscape.

This trail continues to surprise me.

Later, I hitchhike into Wrightwood and prepare for a well-deserved zero day.

Day 28: Feet up

Yes, day zero.

I do my chores, take good care of my body, and reflect on my first four weeks on the trail. Four weeks. It feels much longer and much shorter at the same time.

I love it. I really love the PCT.