The winds were blowing in the right direction and we intended to make the most of that tailwind for the next 24 miles to Tylerhorse Canyon.
The Los Angeles Aqueduct is essentially a huge concrete river that runs east inside a tunnel that appears as wide as a full highway. He finally disappears into a colossal pipe to transport water to Los Angeles. Along the open section, we saw a mother duck and her newborn babies learning to swim in the rough, fast currents; Now that’s tough love. I couldn’t help but wonder if they were just trying to hitchhike to Los Angeles.
You know that famous aqueduct tube you always see in PCT videos around the world? The reality is that you only walk on that steel tube for about four miles before the trail becomes flat pavement for the next 16 miles. We were surprised to reach the asphalt so soon. Making a sharp right turn, we transitioned from the old aqueduct route to the new one and began steadily traveling miles.
The magic of the trail is a true equalizer. Just as it was starting to get dark, we came across a Sprinter van with a group of five people hanging around it. As we got closer, we realized it was the exact same truck that had given us water in the Cleveland National Forest. Incredibly still, the group of hikers there included our friends Ghost, Olive Oil, and Cache22, who we hadn’t seen since Agua Dulce. We had all traveled great kilometers to land in that exact place and at the same time. It really was magical. This time, instead of water, the trail angels offered cold beer and fresh fruit. We were finally able to cash in on that check to have a beer together that we had all been talking about for the past 30 days.
We finally parted ways, knowing that we would all cross paths again in Tehachapi in a couple of days. The aqueduct route then diverted us onto a long, remote dirt road. Out there, it’s just mutual support and the loud, encouraging chorus of desert locusts. Walking through the desert after midnight in the stillness of a moonless night is a profoundly cool experience that most people will never get to experience. With no moon, the stars shone brightly and distant red lights, similar to an airport runway, guided our eyes to the enormous windmills rising in the darkness.
Fifteen miles into the night, I looked to my right and saw what I initially thought was trash that someone had illegally dumped on the shoulder, you know, like an old refrigerator or a mattress. At this point, we were literally walking in the dark with no light just to conserve our headlamp batteries. But when I turned on the light, to my surprise, it was magic number two. Trail Angel Keith had left a cooler full of beer, soda, Gatorade, and a single, glorious Celsius. There was also water, Doritos, Oreos, and fresh baked goods specifically for PCT hikers.
Apparently, a small desert mouse also considered himself an honorary hiker. What we originally thought was a plastic bag rustling in the wind turned out to be a mouse with a severe case of the munchies, trying to escape with a bag of chips. The sudden movement caused No Caffeine to climb the nearest Joshua tree. Along with rattlesnakes, she’s never been a fan of anything that moves faster than her.
After 21 miles, we finally reached the top of Tylerhorse Canyon with the wind blowing at our backs. It was time to take our first real break since leaving Hikertown. We were having a lot of fun so far along the way, with our energy and motivation incredibly high. Ten minutes later, we shouldered our backpacks and continued moving forward; There were only 20 more miles to go.
We completed the aqueduct portion in less than six hours, which left us 12 more hours to get to Tehachapi. The terrain became rugged in the darkness and the glow of our headlights provided no depth perception. Only when you were one step away would you suddenly notice a wash or discover that you had lost the trail completely. Our pace slowed drastically, but safety was the priority. Navigating the exposed sections of the cliff in complete darkness became deeply frustrating.
Finally, the sun began to rise and with it, our anticipation of arriving at the Willow Springs Road trailhead, where our trail angel, Teri, would be waiting for us.
By 8:00 am, the temperature had already risen to 85°F and the brutal daylight became unbearable. Monotonous traverses and unnecessary PUDs became the defining theme of the final eight miles. We both desperately wished it were still dark, wanting to escape not only the oppressive heat but also the endless, repetitive landscape of windmills and bushes. We came across some grazing sheep that temporarily diverted our attention, but they quickly moved on, and so did we.
Less than 18 hours and 41 miles later, we pulled into the trail parking lot on Willow Springs Rd, loaded our gear into the vehicle, and quietly celebrated our accomplishment. Exhausted and stinking, we were officially on our way to a double zero!
With groceries already ordered and waiting for us at the hotel, we were able to quickly see Tehachapi on the way in and then again on the way out. We spent all the time spent exclusively by the pool or in our room. We never left. We simply allow ourselves to recover, rest and enjoy the comforts.
TO BE CONTINUED…
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