«We slept until 5:30 a.m. this morning while waiting for the Warner Springs post office to open at 8:00.» We made good use of the time, enjoying two cups of coffee each and using our tissues to dry the tent after 12 hours of persistent rain.
Yesterday we managed to camp just as the first drops began to fall, but the rain continued all night. As a result, we woke up to a very wet tent, both inside and out. We broke camp at 7:30 a.m. for a 2.4-mile round trip to the post office to pick up our resupply, repack our gear, and dispose of our trash. We hope to be back on the trail by 9:00am, a late start for us, especially with a minimum of 18 miles ahead of us today.
Warner Springs is a quiet town that most hikers simply drive through, but it offers some essential amenities like a community center, gas station, and small post office. The extra miles round trip were definitely worth it to resupply; It saved us from having to transport five days’ worth of food from Julian to Idyllwild. In the end, those extra steps and the shorter day before were a fair trade for a lighter load on our backs.
The locals in Warner Springs were incredibly welcoming, and although the community center offered nice perks like bathrooms and running water, we decided to move on. We wanted to make the most of the cool, windy weather and get a few more miles under our feet while the conditions were perfect.
We entered through open grassland, showing shades of gold and yellow and a background of some brown cows grazing.
As the fluffy white clouds darkened, the threat of a passing rain shower became imminent. By now, the honeymoon phase has faded and been replaced by the reality of these unforgiving conditions. Of the eight hikers we passed today, six looked ready to throw away their poles. This is not the smooth path that attracts so many beginners; It requires a level of mental resilience that most have not yet developed.
The PCT is no joke. One minute it’s 70° and the next it’s 40° with the rain falling sideways. It really is both a mental and physical challenge. Surely there will be sunny days, but you have to go through the rainy ones to experience them.
While most were headed to Little Bear Hostel or Mike’s Place, we continued walking until 6 pm ascending near Bucksnort Mountain until we reached a flat spot.
We greeted the new day at mile 129.2 with a stunning sunrise and our first clear view of San Jacinto Peak. Although the night had been blustery with 40 mph winds, the incredible views in the morning made the exposed campground worth it. We first took out our puffers when temperatures were around 30 degrees, but within an hour of walking, we were already peeling back layers like an onion.
Our packs felt lighter in anticipation of our next resupply at Paradise Valley Cafe (PVC), just 22 miles away. There, we will not only stock up on fresh snacks, but we will also add base layers and microspikes to our backpacks, which will then be transported to Kennedy Meadows South (KMS). It is also where we will coordinate the shipping of our ice axes to KMS.
Leaving footprints in the dust, we wind through a landscape of rocky outcrops, abandoned pastures, and creaky gates. The route meandered through dry creek beds, flanked by flowering prickly pears and junipers, until we finally reached our first water source of the day at Tule Spring.
Just nine days later, the familiar faces we knew by name have already driven away, either speeding up or slowing down to catch some «zeroes.» We are now surrounded by a new crowd of hikers, recognizable only by the vibrant colors of their hoodies.
It seems that the ‘trail name’ tradition has not yet fully taken root; We have only come across one other person who has one. Since most people are on their first long-distance hike, we’re still learning each other’s first names…or, honestly, we’re just making up our own nicknames so we can remember them!
By late afternoon, the day became as long as the climbs. One thing to remember is that if the miles are easy in the morning, don’t assume you have a lot of time. After 20 miles, we arrived at our campsite and found it full of fire ants. So we continued another mile to find a more suitable site which turned out to be better anyway.
At 149.5 miles, it had been a long, hard couple of days, but our 150 mile marker was in sight. A small but deserved victory!
For the third morning in a row, we woke up to a condensation-soaked tent. The transition from a double-wall tent on the AT to a single-wall tent on the PCT has come with a steep learning curve. The fly is not only wet on the outside; the interior is filled with moisture that drips onto our duvets and synthetic equipment.
Despite the dry desert heat and low humidity, condensation seems inevitable, making our sleep system the most frustrating part of the hike so far. At this point, we wish we had brought our double-walled tent, even if it meant carrying extra weight.
To manage this, we’ve added a new step to our morning routine: cleaning the inside, outside, and our equipment before hitting the trail. Hurrah!
Today is a replenishment day at Paradise Valley Cafe and our 150th milestone! As we turned the corner off the 1-mile trail, we were «welcomed» into this iconic restaurant by an energetic, sassy, and witty waitress named Cindy, who refilled our coffee cups more times than we could count and made us a huge plate of vegan hash browns loaded with greens and olive oil.
PVC is an old-style restaurant, loved by locals, located on Palm Springs’ Scenic Drive. It was just what we needed to feel a little more human again. Trail Angel Vic walked us back to the trailhead and wished us a safe trip as we headed toward the San Jacinto Mountain Range. He was a kind soul who clearly loved supporting the hiking community, although his true passion was mountain biking.
As we drove, he shared a sobering story about a hiker who had to be rescued just a couple of days earlier due to hypothermia. It was a harsh reminder of how quickly the weather can change here and how rugged the terrain ahead of us really is.
Luckily, we gathered our base layers and spikes in our resupply. We now have two days to get to Idyllwild.
The terrain was diverse and the kind we loved: with a little mix of rocks and pine, the crunch of fallen oak leaves underfoot, and with the temperature rising, there were plenty of shady spots for refreshments and rests for the packs.
For the next 8 miles, we would slowly advance at an elevation of 6,000 to 8,000 feet and then descend to camp. With the sun beating down on us, we are acutely aware of how bad we smell and that no shower can clean it; a power wash might be the only answer.
New blisters are forming and our heels are worn down by the frayed fabric of our sneakers—our shoes have 300 miles on them before they set foot on the trail. «Just another 24 hours, trusty slippers, and we’ll have a new pair waiting for us in Idyllwild. You’re destined for the trash!»
With a view of Palm Springs to our right all afternoon, we turned west and gradually descended closer to our new home for the night, but not before taking a 2 mile round trip detour down the mountain to Cedar Springs for water.
Our initial plan was to camp just 1.5 miles past the spring, but as we gained elevation, the protective tree cover quickly gave way to an exposed ridge. While we could have set up camp anywhere along the ridge, we decided to press on, hoping to find a spot sheltered from the wind that had kept us up for so many nights before. In the end, the extra effort was a fair trade-off for a better night’s sleep.
Approaching the 1.5 mile mark, we knew we were betting on the campsite being available, and our hunch was right; It was already taken. We continue advancing another 1.5 kilometers until we reach the Fobes Ranch junction.
The “businesses” scattered across the open mountaintop made it clear that we were on an active cattle ranch, but we were lucky. With only one other hiker in sight, we quickly secured a perfect spot sheltered by the trees. It was already late when we got settled in, but it was exactly what we needed to prepare for arriving in Idyllwild early tomorrow afternoon. We were overdue for a zero and couldn’t wait to see this «cute» mountain town that everyone keeps raving about.
TO BE CONTINUED…
