PCT days 9-12: Idyllwild to Cabazon


Day 9: Away with the bombs!

Today I got a small taste of what people had faced during the storm the previous two days when the icy wind whipped over the ridge. But the real surprise was when I climbed to over nine thousand feet, approaching San Jacinto Peak. At first I started noticing balls of ice under some of the trees, but as I climbed I saw that the evergreens were covered in a thick layer of ice. It looked exactly like one of those old Christmas dioramas where the trees are spray painted white at the end to make them look festive. But these were not festive trees. They were assault trees. As the sun warmed them, the ice loosened and rain fell in fist-sized chunks. An ice bomb the size of my head fell to the trail in front of me and bounced down the mountain. I hurried through the short challenge into the blue skies.

Day 10: San Jacinto

Today has been a hard day of walking. It’s not a bad day, just physically hard. At first I thought it was just me, that I was the only one struggling a little. But then everyone I passed or who passed me made comments like “Wow, this altitude is kicking my butt” or “My legs are cement.” This is the first time we walked at a real altitude. It is also the first time we are faced with large elevation changes. Although I only hiked a modest 13 mile day, the elevation change was over 3,800 feet.

With the altitude bearing down on me, I decided to skip the detour to the top of Mount San Jacinto and follow the PCT’s normal red line, so named because the trail is shown in red on the FarOut app. As a flatlander on the east coast, I know my limits and am not yet accustomed to the thinner air of higher altitudes. Also, like I said, I’ve never been a big bagger. I’m in it for the rides.

Day 11: The north side

Off of Mount San Jacinto, the trail descends almost continuously for 20 miles as it loses all of the elevation gained over the previous two days. It takes some thigh strength, but I didn’t mind. I just felt sorry for anyone who had knee problems.

Other than the first mile up the shady north side of the mountain, which was covered in a thick layer of slippery, slushy snow (I made two good banana peel slides on my butt), the trail was one long, gentle drop.

I found a small spot for my tent near a small stream and slept soundly.

Day 12: Arrival in Cabazon

I got up early and decided to go for a night walk. I enjoy night hiking. It’s peaceful. There’s no one else on the trail and it feels strangely clandestine, like you’re on a secret hike. During this morning’s night walk, I was able to give up my trucker hat and sun gloves and feel the breeze. Plus, I was able to escape the worst of the desert heat on what I had already heard was a long, exposed section of trail.

The night was quiet and pleasant. Along the way, I stopped to take a photo of Palm Springs in the distance, with its twinkling lights and pink and orange pre-dawn sky.

The trail zigzagged down into the canyon in long switchbacks. There were warnings in FarOut not to try to shortcut any of these changes. A hiker had lost his life trying to do so a few years earlier. In the dark it wasn’t tempting. Although my headlamp illuminates the trail well, I still take more care walking at night than in daylight.

As I approached the town of Cabazon I could see rows of spinning windmills. Under a bridge someone had left a small bag of oranges and a large sign that said «BEWARE OF RATTLESNAKES.» They had also set up three large boards with markers. The signs were covered with the trail names of hikers who had already been there. I added mine and headed to my nearby accommodation. I stayed in a small storage shed with no electricity and various things piled up around me, but which allowed access to the main houses, bathroom, kitchen and living room. Along the way, luxury is redefined.

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