That Time I Almost Quit: Week 5 on the PCT

As a big fan of hiking, I can say that I’m also a big fan of packing food other than ramen noodles and granola bars. I’ll take almost anything up the mountain: Indian takeout, a second sandwich from the gas station, fried chicken… I’ve done it all. I’ve even packed fast food, but I’ve only done it for one meal. So when I heard about McDonald’s challenge, I graciously accepted.

The challenge was pretty simple on paper: restock only McDonald’s food for the next 20 miles. I thought wow, this isn’t even a challenge. My hiker’s hunger had clouded my judgment. I didn’t entertain the idea of ​​eating cold, soggy day-old fast food for the second day in a row. Day 1 had been fine. We got fresh McMuffins, sat and waited for the lunch menu, got fresh McDoubles, and packed an assortment of treats.

On the way up the long, continuous climb to Wrightwood, we stopped for water and to refuel on chicken nuggets and McDoubles. Cactus and I felt giddy with excitement. How could you even fail this challenge? It was cake! (Well, more like hamburgers). We met another hiker, Alex, at the water tower. After chatting with him a little, he asked if he could camp near us for fear of the mountain lions. We said we didn’t care and settled in two spots along a forest service road for the night.

Cactus and I stuff our faces with more McDonald’s and try to warm up. We had gained quite a bit of elevation and the wind was strong and cold. By morning, clouds had filled all the valleys and we had a beautiful view of what I call “mountain whipped cream.” We ate our cold McDonald’s breakfast sandwiches and headed out, hoping to quickly make the 13 miles into town and do some city chores.

Me walking on endless whipped cream.

The Sausage McMuffins in my stomach had a different idea. In the first few kilometers I was overcome by intense nausea. It was still very cold and we had a lot of elevation left before taking the road to the city. Every step made me want to vomit, and we finally arrived at a Forest Service-run trail camp with pit toilets. I tried to vomit up the greasy food in my stomach, but I just vomited and felt worse.

About 3 miles down the road, I gave up. Cactus was still strong, but I felt weak. Although I had no appetite, I asked Cactus for his emergency protein bar and we slowly headed towards the road. We were easily able to spot a guy returning to the car after his day hike and he dropped us off in town. Immediately upon entering Wrightwood, we were greeted by signs indicating PCT hikers and locals stopping to welcome us.

Only 2280 miles left!

We did our resupply and then checked into our cabin. We tried to wash the clothes quickly, but the dryer wasn’t working and, to our dismay, our clothes were still very wet. It was almost 6pm, I hadn’t eaten much due to nausea and the hanger was taking over. Frustrated, I put on my rain pants and we headed out to meet our friends for lunch at the Mexican restaurant in town. We would meet up with Shade Goat, Mosby, and a group of new hikers.

Halfway through dinner, I noticed that my waterproof pants had split from the crotch to the middle of one of my thighs. They were very old, originally from a hiking camp in southern Virginia, and had been with me for many miles. After dinner, I tried putting white blood cells on the tear, but the tape wouldn’t stick. I mourned the loss of my free rain pants and started shopping for new ones.

The next day was a free day, so I had plenty of time to shop online. After much deliberation, I decided on a pair of Zpacks, but shipped them ahead of time to Kennedy Meadows for fear of having to wait in a town somewhere for them to be delivered. We spent the rest of our free day doing things around town and taking advantage of the free yoga class offered to hikers. Wrightwood was a very hiker-friendly place.

This free yoga was the most relaxing experience ever.

The next morning we were taken back to the trailhead by a trail angel who ended up taking Spice too. This was the day we were going over Mount Baden Powell and neither of us were sure what to expect. We had read some comments on FarOut that microspikes weren’t needed, but the hiker we traveled with told us there was a lot of ice up there. Either way, we still had our picks with us just in case.

About a mile from the top, we found some small patches of snow. Some of them covered the curves and we followed the footprints of people climbing up the mountainside. Some of them were on flatter sections and we could cross them by simply walking. None of them were bad enough to cause microspikes. We made it to the top of the mountain without problems, but were only greeted with a hidden view. Most of the mountain was covered in cloud, so our second major peak on the trail was also a failure.

Me on top of Baden Powell with thick clouds around me.

Once we started walking down along the ridge, some of the clouds cleared and we got a little more of a view. It was always very strange to be on top of a cold, windy mountain and see the desert where it was probably 30 degrees warmer. That night we ended up at a trail campground maintained by the forest service. There were bathrooms, picnic tables, and nice flat spots for our tent. We slept well that night, although it was quite cold.

The next morning we were greeted by our first sighting of a bush poodle dog. Poodle bush grows rampant on burn scars. It looks like some other desert plants, except for the strangely hairy stem. If it touches skin (or fabric), it will release tiny fiberglass-like hairs that cause intense dermatitis. This dermatitis rash is worse than poison ivy or oak, but it can take up to 10 days after contact with the plant to appear and weeks later to heal.

The infamous poodle dog bush. Just don’t touch it.

Between avoiding the poodle bush and struggling to control temperature and coats, the morning was pretty miserable. We had a steep climb up Mount Williamson, but the wind was cold and whipping, so I was hot and cold at the same time. Once we got through it, the sun came out a bit, although it stayed pretty cold all day. We hiked 5 miles around a closed mountain yellow-legged frog habitat restoration trail. The road walk was tedious as it was on a paved road, but we did get to see a lynx.

After our walk along the road, the clouds appeared again. Spice caught up with us and gave us a weather update: the rain we were expecting to fall overnight was now going to arrive in a couple of hours. With how cold the wind was and the lasting trauma of my experience with the cold rain in the Smokey Mountains, I began to feel anxious. I don’t want to walk in the rain when it’s so cold and I don’t have waterproof pants to make it a safer experience.

A lynx from far, far away.

Around 3 pm, the sky opened and fell on us. I put on my raincoat and cried a little. I was so worried about having some kind of hypothermia experience that I really picked up the pace. We arrived at a parking lot where we got some fruit and water like trail magic, but it was so cold and rainy that we didn’t stay long. We walked our first 20 miles that day, and Cactus and I probably set up the tent that day faster than we ever had before. It continued to rain the rest of the night, making going to the bathroom at midnight a miserable experience.

The next two days weren’t much better; Thick, lush undergrowth obscured the trail and painted us with rainwater collected from overnight rains. Each open stretch of trail lasted long enough to spark the promise of dry clothing, and each overgrown section came just as hope returned. Every step exhausted me and every drop of water that seeped into the fabrics of my body caused me double the agony. We rose in altitude, the temperature dropped, the wind increased and once again I froze. The trees and bushes on the north side of the mountain followed my example, covering icicles over our faces.

All the bushes on Pacific Mountain looked like this. It sucked to walk through it.

That second day was a little warmer, a lot drier, but a lot more disappointing. The overgrown stretches were just as long and arduous. We hardly saw anyone all day and I could feel cracks in my resolve. I couldn’t help but feel incredibly lonely and bored. We woke up at the same time every day, did the same things, and saw the same sights. I was tired of the road, plain and simple. We were camping just 11 miles from Agua Dulce and I kept hoping that something in town would lift my spirits.

We set up our tent on a dirt road; The ground was hard and my frustration grew as I fantasized about camps laden with spongy dirt in dense pine forests. A moment later Spice, Dairy Queen and Bang Bang came up the path behind us and suggested we go to Acton with them. The road to Acton was just at the bottom of the hill and there was a restaurant that allowed hikers to camp out the back for free. It didn’t take much convincing, and we quickly took down our tent and ran to the parking lot.

Four hikers piled into the back of a tiny car.

A trail angel who happened to have trail magic installed in that parking lot fed us snacks and cold drinks and then took us to the 49er Saloon. We set up our tents in a huge, flat, fenced area in the back and proceeded to stuff ourselves with cheeseburgers. Aside from the noisy train that passed about 100 meters away several times during the night, I slept more peacefully than I had in a long time. My social battery had been recharged and I felt like I had a detour back to excitement.

The 49er Saloon’s backyard setup.

They dropped us back on the trail pretty early the next morning. We were still planning to stay in Agua Dulce, so we still only had 11 miles to town. We took our time and enjoyed vast hillsides with seas of desert grasses dotted with beautiful wildflowers. We walked through the Vasquez Rocks, a famous geological landmark used in many movies over the years. Once in Agua Dulce, we grabbed some coffee and resupply and checked into a sort of hybrid hostel in town, Serenity’s Hiker Oasis.

Sign in the town of Agua Dulce.

The Oasis was just what we needed to refresh ourselves. They offered laundry, charging, and the hottest shower with the best water pressure I’ve had on the trail so far. We met a new hiker whom Cactus aptly named “Comet,” because he was already doing 30 miles a day and had a degree in astrophysics. We recruited him into the group for the night and the 6 of us went for tacos on Tuesday at the Mexican restaurant in town.

For the first time in over 400 miles, I felt dizzy. I could barely contain how happy I was to have made all these new friends and couldn’t wait to see what the rest of the hike would be like. We still had over 2,200 miles to go, but I was ready.