Day 18: Big Bear to Little Bear
It was hard to leave the comforts of Big Bear Lake behind, but my legs were itching to walk.
Six of us piled into a pickup truck without a back seat and headed back to the trail. Once again I was lucky with the weather. The night before, the temperature on the road had dropped to 20 degrees.
I hurt my knee a little in Mission Creek and was hoping that a day and a half of rest at the lodge would cure whatever I had done, but this morning I could feel a little twinge in my left knee with every step. Not enough to stop walking, but enough to be a warning.
Sometimes I walked on bare rocks without trees. Our shuttle driver had mentioned that Walt Disney once owned these hills. Their gold mining efforts had stripped the hillsides almost 100 years ago, and in many places the vegetation had never grown back.
The trail circled the twin towns of Big Bear and Big Bear Lake. It had a beautiful view of the city with the snow-capped mountains behind.
My stop for the night was Little Bear Campground, a collection of clear spaces. There was a cistern in the camp, but the water was full of green algae. I preferred the short walk to the river to drink water.
Day 19: I feel hot, hot, hot!
What could be better after a long day of hiking than jumping into a hot tub? The answer: jumping into a series of natural hot springs, surrounded by other local hikers and hikers.
Numerous springs of varying temperatures flow into the river at Deep Creek Hot Springs. Years ago someone piled rocks around areas of thermal activity, creating a series of large natural hot tubs. Inside the temperature was perfect. I guess about 104 or 105 where I sat.
After dark, springs become clothing optional. Many of the local hikers and some in our group didn’t bother waiting for sunset. We were all happy to jump between the coolness of the river and the relaxing heat of the hot springs, which provided a wonderful antidote to our aching muscles.
As I got out of the hot tub, I felt my knee buckle. Let’s hope it’s just a reaction to a long day of walking, not a sign of true instability. Without hot springs as a reward at the end of the day, I can afford to go a little slower tomorrow.
Ssssss….
As I set up my tent, I noticed that a group of people had gathered around a tree near the water. I went down to investigate and discovered that there was a large rattlesnake curled up at the base of a tree next to the hiking gear of a Dutch father and daughter. Apparently the father had lifted his backpack and the rattlesnake emerged from underneath and headed towards the tree. Later it slid across the sand and rocks, under the tent of hikers Wong and Kong, and into another pool of shade. Hikers who had been planning to cowboy camp without a tent quickly changed their minds!
Day 20: Hat Lady
I met Early Bird, a German hiker who, like me, likes to go out at first light. We chatted amiably through the hills, discussing our families and trail culture.
We stopped to take a video of a horned toad, an animal Early Bird had not seen before. The small animal scurried down the path ahead of us, then turned and came back to rest between my feet as if seeking protection, or perhaps just some welcome shade.
Shortly before lunch, I was walking along the trail, minding my own business, when some of the upward slope fell onto the trail a foot or two in front of me. It was a rattlesnake, wriggling and rattling furiously. In shock, I danced back down the path as fast as I could, trying to keep my balance and not end up flat on my face. The snake, still rattling loudly, quickly slithered to the other side of the path and disappeared into the grass. Still a little shaken, I gave him a wide berth.
No wonder the rattlesnakes are gone. The days have been getting progressively warmer. 90° more. That’s rattlesnake weather, and this is rattlesnake country.
This afternoon, as I was sitting along the trail, preparing my cold dinner for the evening, a hiker walked by and said, «Hat Lady!» He was the guy who was near me at the pass when my hat went flying into the gorge. He said he had taken some photos of me in front of him and sent them to me. Good boy.
Day 21: Towards Cajón
Last night was a perfect example of why I don’t like staying at public campgrounds. The place was nice. It had clean bathrooms and fresh water. The problem is that when you combine day trippers who go to bed at eight o’clock and locals on vacation who stay up until eleven with loud music and conversations, it’s not much of a mix. Add to that the guy who woke up at five to get something out of his car and apparently forgot he’d left the alarm on, and it wasn’t a good night’s sleep.
I was hoping to stay somewhere a little less crowded, like stealth camping at the picnic area 2 miles south of the Sulfur Lake campground. But multiple warnings made it clear that it was not a good idea. Aside from the $400 fine if caught, there is also a blow to the reputation of PCT hikers. I didn’t want to be the one to ruin things for others. Plus, at heart I’m a rule follower.
You deserve a break today…
You wouldn’t think such a large group of people could get so excited about a single McDonald’s. However, that seemed to be the goal of all the hikers I had seen in the last two days. Everyone was salivating to get to Colin Pass’ fast food restaurant. Many of us had worked hard, traveling more than 20 miles a day, only to make it within the last 14 miles to the highway rest stop that contained Mickey D’s. Honestly, I don’t even like McDonald’s that much. It makes my body feel terrible. Yet somehow that’s all I’d dreamed of for the past few days and I know I wasn’t alone.
Then there’s the McDonald’s Challenge. This is a casual hiker challenge where you resupply completely from the McDonald’s in Cajon Pass and try to make it to the next resupply to stop eating only McDonald’s food. It is generally done between Cajon Pass and Wrightwood, although some hikers extend it further. I can accept a challenge, but I’m skipping this one.
This website contains affiliate links, which means The Trek may receive a percentage of any products or services you purchase using links in articles or advertisements. The buyer pays the same price they would otherwise pay, and their purchase helps support The Trek’s ongoing goal of bringing you quality backpacking information and advice. Thank you for your support!
For more information, visit the About page of this site.
