Trail Update #4: Swimming Holes, Hot Springs, and Fires

Transition back to life on the trails

I haven’t posted a tour update in a while because I went home for a couple of weeks on a personal matter. I won’t talk about it much, but it was a reminder that life can be extremely challenging and heartbreaking, but also full of beauty and adventure, and that we should value relationships with people who are truly always happy to see you.

With these heavy thoughts on my mind, I returned to the brutal weather in Southern California right now. Not surprisingly, my transition back proved challenging, as my body and mind protested the harsh conditions.

My legs, feet and shoulders hurt because they lost their resistance during the break. My mind wondered what I was doing here in the desert when I could be poolside with a margarita. Wouldn’t it be better to leave it and wait until you have a companion to walk with? Someone to share both opinions and pain with, check that I haven’t strayed from the path, or at least be more attractive bear bait.

Therefore, I was forced to beat my mind and body into submission. I’m happy to report that it took me a few days but I was victorious. My body once again gave in and accepted its fate of being continually overexerted, sustained by poor nutrition and uncomfortable sleep.

Meanwhile, I remembered why I decided to do this in the first place: for my love of nature and for it to be a good challenge. If I waited for someone crazy enough to accept me on my adventures, I wouldn’t have half of my wonderful experiences. There is no perfect time for anything in life.

Back in Big Bear

I started again in Big Bear Lake on June 10, a bit in a bad mood because the airline lost some very expensive equipment that I was forced to replace. Distracted from composing a brief but respectful email to the air people in my mind, I accidentally took a dirt bike trail instead of following the PCT. I was forced to take out my compass and forge my own path back.

Because of the angle of the illegitimate trail, I had to backtrack six miles that day. It wasn’t a good start to my return, but I made up for it by walking a little later in the evening when it was cooler and allowed for a faster pace.

Broncos and a swimming hole

The next day started out hot and shadeless, so I was very happy when I met Holcombe Stream. I immediately found a swimming hole that was deep enough to sit in up to my neck in water.

As I contemplated whether I could camp at the creek even though I had only hiked five miles that day, I heard engines approaching. I looked up and saw a parade of jeeps passing on a rough road above me. Just where they crossed my private bathing spot, the road dipped, causing every vehicle to tip over the cliff. A vision flashed through my mind of one rolling towards me as I sat in the stream, but luckily that didn’t happen.

I crawled out of the water and continued down the hot trail, only to encounter the off-roaders taking a break nearby. Turns out they were Broncos, not Jeeps (I think their group was called the SoCal Broncos). They were super friendly, offering me cold water, a sandwich, and a deliciously juicy orange. I was told that Jeepers weren’t as nice as them, and I’m inclined to believe that because the orange really hit the spot.

Apparently someone in their group broke their axle or some component of the 4×4, so my fear of one falling into the creek maybe wasn’t so far off after all.

More swimming holes please

The next morning I woke up excited to walk a few miles to Deep Creek Hot Springs. I arrived around seven and had the place to myself for an hour before the locals arrived steadily.

There are five hot springs situated around a large deep swimming hole. The springs are hidden in some cliffs from which you can then jump into the cool stream. I spent a few hours talking to some locals and enjoying the hot and cold water interchangeably. It was one of my favorite places on the trail so far and did wonders for my sore body.

One of the springs and the swimming hole behind it.

I returned to the trail in the early afternoon, which I soon regretted. It was another five-mile stretch of shadeless desert (are you getting a theme yet?). There was nowhere to hide from the sun and I was on the verge of heat exhaustion when I rejoined the stream in the valley and found shade under the trees along the banks.

I immediately collapsed into the water to cool my body temperature. Soon a family of fishermen stopped by and gave me cold water and Powerade. I guess she looked pretty desperate lying in the water fully clothed. Anyway, I’m grateful for the kindness of humans. That Powerade gave me my life back.

Sun and more sun

The next day consisted of a walk through Silverwood Lake. The trail was largely above the shoreline, but I took the opportunity to walk around and take a dip in the lake several times as I circled it. Then I returned to the arid, sun-drenched mountains towards Drawer passagewhere the infamous hiker McDonald’s Oasis resides near the PCT as it crosses Highway 15.

After being disappointed by my first McDonald’s meal in 20 years, I resumed my walk through the tunnel under the highway and began the long walk to Wrightwood in it San Gabriel Mountains. It’s something like 6,000 feet of elevation gain, with no water sources for 18 miles, which means some very heavy water hauling.

It was hot and moving slowly. I crouched under the shelter of the bushes along the trail, trying to fit my entire body into a small strip of shade.

Shadow, yes!

As I walked, I thought about the bears they keep warning me about. Where were they hiding? My black lab wouldn’t last ten minutes here; Surely the big, fluffy black bears aren’t baking in the heat. Maybe I could find their den and lure them with some food to use their shady bedroom Goldilocks style. These are the kind of thoughts that run through my mind when I’m half-delirious from sun exposure.

Fires old and new

As I climbed further towards the San Gabriel MountainsI saw a fire growing from my vantage point on the ridge. I looked back from time to time to see the column of smoke growing larger and larger. Attack planes and helicopters passed over me all that afternoon. I opened the Duty of vigilance app (which I highly recommend to my fellow hikers) to find out what the coastal fire near Riverside and had grown to more than 2,000 acres.

My vision of the Shore Fire.

Ironically, the next morning consisted of a 12 mile hike through an area burned by a large fire a few years ago. A logging crew piled hundreds of dead trees on top of the prairie, creating a tree graveyard reminiscent of ferngullya classic and emotionally marked film from my youth. Luckily, the big machines weren’t running while I was walking. Maybe that’s more than I could bear.

The atrocity.

On a positive note, the scorched earth was dotted with pretty purple, pink, blue, yellow and white flowers. It was a sign of regrowth and resurgence. Furthermore, I was able to glimpse for the first time Mount Baden-Powella beautiful view and my next challenging climb.

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.