The first 50 miles: from the border to Mount Laguna

With fresh legs, a stomach full of carbs and coffee, and a new group of friends, we took our first steps onto the PCT.‘s southern terminus. Along the way, we saw rabbits, a coyote, and desert flowers that were completely new to us. After a quick photo and a ceremonial touch of the border wall, we turned north with 2,650 miles of trail ahead of us. It seemed surreal: we were officially bound for Canada.

What started out as a cool, cloudy morning quickly escalated into a scorching one. Just a few minutes into the hike, we began the first of many applications of sunscreen, relying on hats and hoodies to do the rest. We spent the day jumping ahead on our new “trail family,” encouraging each other to stay cool and safe.

The physical challenge started early; We had to carry enough water to cover the first 22 kilometers, which meant carrying four liters per head through a completely arid landscape. In this section, our hydration depended solely on the generosity of the trail angels.—specifically a cache maintained by Papa Bear. When we finally reached the water, we fueled up for the last two miles to camp, as well as the 18-mile dry stretch that awaited us the next day to Morena Lake.

Our original plan was to stop at Houser Creek (which, unsurprisingly, was completely dry), but our legs still had some life in them. We kept going and finally finished our first day at mile 16.5. We were rewarded with a spectacular campsite with panoramic views and a sunset that made the heavy water hauling worthwhile. The next morning, we woke up to a sunrise just as impressive as the night before, broke camp, and settled into our normal long-distance hiking routine: up at 5:00 and out at 6:00.

After a quick cup of coffee, a snack, and some yoga, we hit the trail with our sights set on Lake Morena Campground. We were getting closer to our first resupply, but our backpacks were filled with evidence of our Leave No Trace habits.—mainly a growing collection of wrappers, wipes and used toilet paper.

To be honest, we couldn’t have cared less about the lake itself; We were much more interested in trash cans, toilets, and a reliable water faucet. No‘It doesn’t take much to make a hiker happy! (And for the record, the lake was actually very pretty.)

Leaving the comforts behind, we take our time. Us‘I have settled into a consistent routine of eating every hour.—sometimes snacking as we go, and other times stopping for a few minutes to give our back a break. After the “almost starvation diet” we experienced in the AT,‘We have learned the importance of refueling frequently, not only for our body, but also for our mind.

The change of scenery was welcome.—Real trees, leaves and grass finally offered some shade on an otherwise warm day. As we walked, our minds were set on our first resupply at Mount Laguna. We find ourselves dreaming of the little surprises that‘We had put it in our boxes just two weeks before; he‘It’s those small rewards that provide the motivation you need to try harder.

We headed down a blue blaze to Kitchen Creek, a slow-flowing river with a swimming hole, soaked our feet and filtered enough water to dry out the camp and get us to our next water source the next day.

As the day came to an end, we found an open, shady tent spot in Fred Canyon. There was only one other hiker there when we arrived, and we were excited at the prospect of a good night’s sleep. We set up camp, stuffed ourselves with tacos, and finished our nightly chores to get ready for the morning.

We turned off the headlights and closed our eyes, only to have our neighbor keep us up all night. He managed to gather a large amount of body noises for the next nine hours straight. Needless to say, we spent the night checking our watches for hours, counting the moments until we could pack up and move on. 5am ​​could‘It can’t come soon enough!

Wiping the little sleep we had from our eyes, we packed up in silence and set off on what would become our best day yet. As the temperatures rose, our umbrellas were open to the public, which kept us only 5° shy of frying.

About nine miles in, we entered the Mount Laguna Recreation Area. While many hikers opt for the «blue flame» shortcut to reach the cafeteriaand and real food faster, we stuck to the PCT to enjoy the endless desert views. We even caught a glimpse of the Salton Sea, with Arizona hidden somewhere on the distant horizon. Many thanks to our friends Wendy and Christine.—affectionately nicknamed Team Bend (a pair of badass triathletes from Oregon!)—for the tip!

After a short road walk, we arrived at the Mount Laguna Store and Post Office. Since we arrived an hour before opening, we met up with a group of new faces to swap stories about how the trail had treated us so far.

Once the doors opened at noon, we finally picked up our first resupply. We claimed a nearby picnic table and spread out our haul: three days’ worth of snacks and dinners, along with a fresh supply of toilet paper, wipes, sanitizer, and sunscreen. With a last refill of water from the tap, we returned to the path to rejoin the trail.

The forest landscape meandered between ancient trees, grassy meadows and vibrant flowers. It was silent, only the trills of small birds and the hum of activity could be heard: squirrels and ants busily attended to their daily tasks, while lizards and snakes competed for a place in the sunlight.

Shortly after, we were weighing whether to speed up the pace or reduce the kilometers, due to a “slight” lack of planning. Remember how we do everything at the last minute? – when we are in the Mount Laguna Recreation Area where dispersed camping is prohibited. While paid sites were available for $35, they did not offer services—The showers aren’t even scheduled to open until May.—and being a public camp, the hours of silence extended long after ‘midnight hiker‘so we decided to continue another 13 kilometers.

We set our sights on the Pioneer Mail campground, but since the trail was dry, a large haul of water was necessary. However, just as we turned off Sunrise Highway toward a campground tap, a couple of trail angels pulled up in a nice Sprinter van! They filled all of our bottles from their tank, saving us that extra kilometer of walking just to «ride the camel up.»

With five liters of water each, we pressed on and reached an important milestone: 50 miles! Between the magic of the trail and this new victory, our morale was raised and our spirits were refreshed.

After a long day, we finally arrived at our campsite, which was far from flat. We managed to find a small (one person) site, sloping and hidden between some low growing manzanita trees. Yo‘I’m pretty sure if there was an award for the worst carp plot ever done in Durston, we would have won it!

This section of the PCT, now a steep cliff just 20 feet from our door, was once the dangerous and original Sunrise Highway, which was rerouted at Highway 70‘s. In the 18th and 19th centuries, this rugged mountain mail route used by early settlers linked Texas to San Diego.

Although it was another windy and restless night, the morning greeted us with a beautiful sunrise and panoramic views of the Anza-Borrego Desert.

TO BE CONTINUED…