Getting a ride back to the trail via fire truck was definitely a first for me, but hey, that's Wrightwood for you. A trail angel and retired firefighter I stayed with named Leroy drove me back in his vintage, pickup-sized fire truck with bells and all and we parted ways. My mission was to catch up to Rambo and Mcflurry, who opted to camp near the trail last night to get an early start. Fueled by a wonderful trail angel breakfast, I wizzed up to the summit of 9,400 foot Mt. Baden-Powell where throngs of day hikers and boy scouts awaited me. They saw me as sort of a novelty for attempting the entire PCT, which made feel like king of the hikers for a bit. However, the next section followed a ridgeline, which brought constant up and down and some tough terrain. I slogged over to the next water source and made my way through a crowd of boy scouts to meet back up with my friends.
A couple miles of trail ahead of us were closed due to the endangered mountain yellow-legged frog breeding there, so we let the lovers be and took the reroute along the Angeles Crest Highway. Motorcyclists and sport cars howled by until we came to a campground near the PCT, where we were greeted by a former thru-hiker weekend tripping with his four year old son. He cooked us up some bratwurst while his son quizzically looked at our packs and gear. Yes kid, things can get that dirty. After great food and conversation, we went a little ways to set up camp, where I noticed my feet had gotten quite bruised by all of that road walking. I looked forward to walking on cushy trail from now on.
The next day brought hot weather and a very drawn out ascent in a burned area with no shade (I guess Leroy can't get them all), but that wasn't what we were worried about. We learned of a plant called Poodle Dog Bush that often grows in burned areas. It can cause a rash when brushed up against, and we heard reports that it was growing close to the trail. We spent the day mentally blocking out the heat while keeping our wits about us enough to avoid the poodle dog bush. We got to a fire station where we filled up for an 18 mile stretch without water the next day, making our packs significantly heavier. To conserve water, we cooked dinner before heading two more miles to our campsite, but the wind in the valley kept trying to blow our stoves out. Whatever, I don't mind my ramen with a little bit of crunch.
The next day was even hotter than the previous day, so we took a three hour long siesta before we started hiking again. Since there was a campground with a snack bar eight miles ahead, we made good pace motivated by pints of cold ice cream. Many other thru-hikers seemed to be cooling off as well, especially a guy who had accidentally dropped one of his liters of water down a hill. I definitely wouldn't want to be in that situation during a hot day such as this. Since the campground sat right near train tracks that brought commuter trains to and from LA, we got poor sleep. But that didn't worry us much, because the next day, we were headed into Agua Dulce where we would go to Hiker Heaven.
No, we haven't died, at least not yet. This establishment is perfectly engineered to serve the needs of a thru-hiker, offering showers, laundry (with loaner clothes), wifi, gear repair, and most importantly, places to get out of the heat. I had fun relaxing and hanging out with other hikers, until I downloaded the latest water report. Just when I thought the desert would be over soon, I saw that one hundred miles ahead of us lay the driest section of the PCT. It would require thru-hikers to carry up to five liters of water at a time (eleven pounds!!) and would force us to get up extremely early in the morning to beat the heat. Basically, we're destined to be overburdened, sleep deprived zombies, a real fun way to hike for sure. I dreaded the thought of hiking that section so much that it made me sick to my stomach. That morning, I walked into heaven, but I left with a vision of hell. I hiked the next day on the fence about my thru-hike, wondering if there was any good that could outweight the horrible section to come.
Later that day, we arrived at a trail angels house that they called Casa de Luna, which felt very akin to an AT hangout spot. I was suddenly flooded with memories of the AT, good times and bad. Then it hit me: no matter how many bad moments I had on the AT, there was always without fail a good moment right around the corner. I started feeling more hopeful as the day went by, and I decided to focus on how magnificent and wet the high sierras and the rest of the trail will be. We thru-hikers all gorged on a nacho bar and had great conversation before passing out for the night. I believe that every thru-hike has a turning point, something that steers it in the right direction and gives confidence that things will work out for the better. I hope my time at Casa de Luna was just that.
Tuesday, May 30, 2017
Saturday, May 20, 2017
Reunions and Rambunctious Times
While in the town of Big Bear Lake, I invited my friend Yankee from the AT to stop by our hotel room because he was in the area. We caught up, and Rambo joined us in reminiscing over how much wetter and steeper the AT was compared to the PCT. To be honest, I have trouble answering when first time thru-hikers ask me which trail I like better, because they each have their own good and bad. The next day though, we got to share in a beloved AT tradition. Yankee slack packed us for 20 miles, meeting us with our stuff and a big sub sandwich at a forest road crossing.
We woke up the next morning to frost on our tents, and we said goodbye to Yankee, who was just waking up comfortably from inside the customized cab of his truck. Filled with climbing gear, he'll be heading up to Mammoth Lakes, CA to climb all summer long. I hope I can meet up with him again in the Sierras, weather permitting. I have to say that this morning didn't surprise me, as I've felt at least a couple gusts of cold wind whipping across the trail each day. I like to tell thru-hikers who have also done the AT that California is warm just like Virginia is flat: in that it mostly isn't. I would've never guessed southern CA would be this cold, but I'm managing. I'm hoping that this is just spring mode and that the higher Sierras will be in summer mode by the time I enter them.
Later that day, we stopped by some hot springs near the trail to take a dip, being careful not to let our heads go underwater due to supposed brain eating amoeba. I was able to reunite with two other guys i had met on the AT who were also hiking the PCT. We caught up and got pictures, which we would send to fellow hiker trash as nostalgia. After warming up and soothing our sore muscles, we air dried before continuing on a bit more because none of us had brought towels. Something I've noticed about PCT hikers is that nearly all of them start the trail prepared, as opposed to the AT where some hikers carry unnecessary and cumbersome gear for weeks. Though I would say towns are about as commonly found at the beginning of both trails, it seems like PCT thru-hikers have more risk to mitigate, which requires then to be smart about their gear. However, they still need to develop their trail legs like AT thru-hikers. Maybe that's why my group has been cruising.
The next day took us near a picnic area with a pavilion, where we saw a group of hikers enjoying a pizza that they had delivered. While Rambo and Shannon decided to hike late into the day to get to a McDonald's near the trail, I decided to camp a bit before it. Eventually, the pizza group mustered up the energy to hike and camped with me. They were very appreciative of my ukelele playing, and there was great conversation that night. I got to the McDonald's the next morning, where I learned that what we thought was a 22 mile stretch without water was actually a 27 mile stretch according to the most recent water report. Since 20 of those miles ascended over five thousand feet and my right achilles tendon was starting to bother me, I opted to hitch ahead, do that section southbound (and thankfully downhill), and meet my friends in Wrightwood when we were all done.
Though it was a pretty tough hitch from just off Interstate 15 where the McDonald's was, I easily got a hitch from Wrightwood further along on trail. I enjoyed doing the section downhill so that I didn't need to carry as much water and I could go easy on my Achilles tendon, but I confused many hikers who saw me going southbound. The next morning, I did 5 more miles back to the McDonald's and hitched back into Wrightwood, where I stayed with a trail angel who had worked as a wilderness firefighter for 40 years. After seeing all the fire damage on the PCT and thinking how much worse it could be, I thanked him for his service. I then realized I had accidentally left a pair of socks at my campsite last night, but he had a pair that a hiker didn't want anymore (cleaned of course). I met up with Rambo and shannon and enjoyed the town or Wrightwood the wright way by gorging on mexican food.
We woke up the next morning to frost on our tents, and we said goodbye to Yankee, who was just waking up comfortably from inside the customized cab of his truck. Filled with climbing gear, he'll be heading up to Mammoth Lakes, CA to climb all summer long. I hope I can meet up with him again in the Sierras, weather permitting. I have to say that this morning didn't surprise me, as I've felt at least a couple gusts of cold wind whipping across the trail each day. I like to tell thru-hikers who have also done the AT that California is warm just like Virginia is flat: in that it mostly isn't. I would've never guessed southern CA would be this cold, but I'm managing. I'm hoping that this is just spring mode and that the higher Sierras will be in summer mode by the time I enter them.
Later that day, we stopped by some hot springs near the trail to take a dip, being careful not to let our heads go underwater due to supposed brain eating amoeba. I was able to reunite with two other guys i had met on the AT who were also hiking the PCT. We caught up and got pictures, which we would send to fellow hiker trash as nostalgia. After warming up and soothing our sore muscles, we air dried before continuing on a bit more because none of us had brought towels. Something I've noticed about PCT hikers is that nearly all of them start the trail prepared, as opposed to the AT where some hikers carry unnecessary and cumbersome gear for weeks. Though I would say towns are about as commonly found at the beginning of both trails, it seems like PCT thru-hikers have more risk to mitigate, which requires then to be smart about their gear. However, they still need to develop their trail legs like AT thru-hikers. Maybe that's why my group has been cruising.
The next day took us near a picnic area with a pavilion, where we saw a group of hikers enjoying a pizza that they had delivered. While Rambo and Shannon decided to hike late into the day to get to a McDonald's near the trail, I decided to camp a bit before it. Eventually, the pizza group mustered up the energy to hike and camped with me. They were very appreciative of my ukelele playing, and there was great conversation that night. I got to the McDonald's the next morning, where I learned that what we thought was a 22 mile stretch without water was actually a 27 mile stretch according to the most recent water report. Since 20 of those miles ascended over five thousand feet and my right achilles tendon was starting to bother me, I opted to hitch ahead, do that section southbound (and thankfully downhill), and meet my friends in Wrightwood when we were all done.
Though it was a pretty tough hitch from just off Interstate 15 where the McDonald's was, I easily got a hitch from Wrightwood further along on trail. I enjoyed doing the section downhill so that I didn't need to carry as much water and I could go easy on my Achilles tendon, but I confused many hikers who saw me going southbound. The next morning, I did 5 more miles back to the McDonald's and hitched back into Wrightwood, where I stayed with a trail angel who had worked as a wilderness firefighter for 40 years. After seeing all the fire damage on the PCT and thinking how much worse it could be, I thanked him for his service. I then realized I had accidentally left a pair of socks at my campsite last night, but he had a pair that a hiker didn't want anymore (cleaned of course). I met up with Rambo and shannon and enjoyed the town or Wrightwood the wright way by gorging on mexican food.
Friday, May 19, 2017
Trial by Fire Closure
Rambo, Kate, Shannon and I each finished a football-sized breakfast burrito and then got a hitch into Idyllwild for our hard earned zero day. We were picked up by a cheery woman named Diane, who regaled us with a story of her and her sister being stalked by a mountain lion during an evening hike in the area. So far on our trip, we've encountered beetles, gnats, squirrels, and even a rattlesnake, who gave us plenty of warning of his presence. As improbable as it may be though, we each had mixed feelings about encountering a mountain lion. As for me, I debated carrying cat nip for a worst case scenario.
After replenishing lost calories and relaxing in Idyllwild, we hiked back up to the ridge to rejoin the PCT. Before us lay the highest peak in southern California, the majestic and still snow-covered San Jacinto Peak. Rambo and Kate were intent on making the 3 mile side trip up to the summit, but since I knew of a long stretch without water immediately after that I didn't want to camp in, I was on the fence. The sky was getting hazy, we would be receiving many more views on the PCT itself. I got about a third of the way up and decided not to tire myself out before clearing the waterless stretch.
The San Jacinto ridge presented a different kind of forest from the typical sage brush, yucca, cacti, and other prickly bushes that we had been used to seeing. We found ourselves surrounded by enormous ponderosa pines with trunks the width of queen size beds and firs that let off an aroma similar to what I've become used to in the northeast. I liked being up here, but eventually it was time to descend back to the desert biome. And descend we did, as we lost nearly seven thousand feet by the end of the day. We gradually switchbacked our way down, and I was starting to miss the quick and straight descents I've also become used to in the northeast.
The next couple of days presented us a problem: there was a 16 mile fire closure that PCT hikers could hike through, but could not camp due to the risk of a dead tree blowing over onto an unsuspecting hikers tent. The closure began 30 miles from our second day, meaning we had to either do two short days right up to the closure, or two long days to clear it. In this game of skill, we opted to do two long days cause we felt we could do it. Well, here goes nothing. Our first day started with a trail magic breakfast of cinnamon buns and root beer floats, which propelled us up the windy ridge and down to a wide, rocky river bed which proved difficult to follow the trail up through.
The second day immediately started with a posterior-kicking incline up to a ridge, which we followed for the rest of the day. Back among the ponderosa pines and firs, we stopped for a break and saw our first "horseback hiker" doing a section of the PCT. So that explains the intermittent piles of poop along this trail. Because Shannon was starting to develop shin splints, she hitched into the nearest town to rest up. At the end of the day, the rest of us came across a metal box filled with soda and oreo packets, which was a great way to celebrate the end of the fire closure. We pumped out miles the next morning to a road crossing and hitched into Big Bear Lake to meet up with Shannon and call our mothers. After all, who else would be rightfully nervous of us hiking from Mexico to Canada and encountering mountain lions?
After replenishing lost calories and relaxing in Idyllwild, we hiked back up to the ridge to rejoin the PCT. Before us lay the highest peak in southern California, the majestic and still snow-covered San Jacinto Peak. Rambo and Kate were intent on making the 3 mile side trip up to the summit, but since I knew of a long stretch without water immediately after that I didn't want to camp in, I was on the fence. The sky was getting hazy, we would be receiving many more views on the PCT itself. I got about a third of the way up and decided not to tire myself out before clearing the waterless stretch.
The San Jacinto ridge presented a different kind of forest from the typical sage brush, yucca, cacti, and other prickly bushes that we had been used to seeing. We found ourselves surrounded by enormous ponderosa pines with trunks the width of queen size beds and firs that let off an aroma similar to what I've become used to in the northeast. I liked being up here, but eventually it was time to descend back to the desert biome. And descend we did, as we lost nearly seven thousand feet by the end of the day. We gradually switchbacked our way down, and I was starting to miss the quick and straight descents I've also become used to in the northeast.
The next couple of days presented us a problem: there was a 16 mile fire closure that PCT hikers could hike through, but could not camp due to the risk of a dead tree blowing over onto an unsuspecting hikers tent. The closure began 30 miles from our second day, meaning we had to either do two short days right up to the closure, or two long days to clear it. In this game of skill, we opted to do two long days cause we felt we could do it. Well, here goes nothing. Our first day started with a trail magic breakfast of cinnamon buns and root beer floats, which propelled us up the windy ridge and down to a wide, rocky river bed which proved difficult to follow the trail up through.
The second day immediately started with a posterior-kicking incline up to a ridge, which we followed for the rest of the day. Back among the ponderosa pines and firs, we stopped for a break and saw our first "horseback hiker" doing a section of the PCT. So that explains the intermittent piles of poop along this trail. Because Shannon was starting to develop shin splints, she hitched into the nearest town to rest up. At the end of the day, the rest of us came across a metal box filled with soda and oreo packets, which was a great way to celebrate the end of the fire closure. We pumped out miles the next morning to a road crossing and hitched into Big Bear Lake to meet up with Shannon and call our mothers. After all, who else would be rightfully nervous of us hiking from Mexico to Canada and encountering mountain lions?
Monday, May 15, 2017
Dust in the Wind
After a delightful time eating and chatting with other hikers at Carmens in Julian, I got a hitch back to the trail with a man and his 3 year old daughter. They were going for an evening hike, and they were the most adorable hiking duo ever. As it was my first time in a while interacting with kids, I asked the ever famous "what do you want to be when you grow up?" When she replied with wanting to be a PCT thru-hiker, I realized my heart was the only thing that hadn't melted in the desert earlier that day. The father, who is a meteorologist, told me in detail about the high winds and rain expected for the next few days. I guess this trail is intent on showing us its full personality right off the bat.
The duo dropped me off back at the trail, and a couple hikers and I went full troll and set our tents up under a bridge. None of us could've been prepared for the fierce wind that night, as it blew some of our tents violently side to side and in some cases even dismantled them. I was lucky to have my tent stay up, but we all woke up covered with a layer of dust. We literally shook the dust off of ourselves, and like a crew of skinny coal miners, we began our day up the next ridge. By the afternoon though, it had started to drizzle a bit. I was just glad we didnt have to slog straight up mountains like we so often had to on the AT. Since the PCT is graded for horseback travel, the trail goes up and down moutains very gradually, which is great for going up but a little infuriating when it takes takes forever to get dowm. Right before I had planned to camp, I discovered a man made cave big enough for one person, so I hunkered down with a book I picked up in Julian and made it my home for the night. I just hope the hiker community doesn't start calling me bear or something, as I don't think I'll be finding more caves or growing enough body hair to fulfill the name.
After a wonderful nights rest, I awoke to snow flurries which turned into steady rain as I hiked off the ridge. I had planned on doing a short 13 mile day into Warner Springs (perspective is an amazing thing, isn't it?), and was greeted by what must've been 30 hikers crammed into their community center. Much like an army mess hall, people were sharing stories of survival, playing cards, and dressing blisters. I took this opportunity to give my feet an Epsom salt bath and disinfect them real well, to the relief of some squeamish hikers who saw my blisters. I reassured them that they don't feel as bad as they looked, and I realized that many times this hike I've faced things with a "could be worse" mentality. I guess having already done a long distance trail gives you a strong sense of perspective indeed.
At the community center, I mostly hung out with Rambo (who had thru-hiked the AT last year), Kate from Portland, and Shannon from Idaho. Rambo and I struggled to find trail names for them, instead opting for a crazy scenario in the future to present the perfect name. The 4 of us decided to rent a cabin for a night in Idyllwild, which was 2 days away and nestled up near the San Jacinto ridge. We also learned of a fire closure south of town on the ridge, and since the reroute involved mostly road walking, we decided to forgo that misery and rejoin the PCT by hiking up to the ridge out of town. All in all, we will probably end up skipping about 20 miles of trail, but we unanimously agreed that it beats road walking.
We hiked from Warner Springs to a piece of property off the grid called Mikes place, owned by a trail angel. Though Mike is only present during the weekends, we still got to spend time with his friend Josh, who grilled some chicken for us hungry hikers and let us camp in the yard. He showed us some of te classic cars that he and Mike have been trying to fix up, and I of course let him sign my hat. The next day, Rambo, Kate, Shannon and I hiked 25 miles to get to the road crossing to Idyllwild, and we camped right next to a restaurant a little ways down the road. We planned on hitting it up in the morning to start our true zero day. We were disappointed to learn that the building didnt have a spigot, ao we rationed our water that night. On the plus side though, I realized my blisters were almost all healed up. The zero day tomorrow should bring me back to 100%.
The duo dropped me off back at the trail, and a couple hikers and I went full troll and set our tents up under a bridge. None of us could've been prepared for the fierce wind that night, as it blew some of our tents violently side to side and in some cases even dismantled them. I was lucky to have my tent stay up, but we all woke up covered with a layer of dust. We literally shook the dust off of ourselves, and like a crew of skinny coal miners, we began our day up the next ridge. By the afternoon though, it had started to drizzle a bit. I was just glad we didnt have to slog straight up mountains like we so often had to on the AT. Since the PCT is graded for horseback travel, the trail goes up and down moutains very gradually, which is great for going up but a little infuriating when it takes takes forever to get dowm. Right before I had planned to camp, I discovered a man made cave big enough for one person, so I hunkered down with a book I picked up in Julian and made it my home for the night. I just hope the hiker community doesn't start calling me bear or something, as I don't think I'll be finding more caves or growing enough body hair to fulfill the name.
After a wonderful nights rest, I awoke to snow flurries which turned into steady rain as I hiked off the ridge. I had planned on doing a short 13 mile day into Warner Springs (perspective is an amazing thing, isn't it?), and was greeted by what must've been 30 hikers crammed into their community center. Much like an army mess hall, people were sharing stories of survival, playing cards, and dressing blisters. I took this opportunity to give my feet an Epsom salt bath and disinfect them real well, to the relief of some squeamish hikers who saw my blisters. I reassured them that they don't feel as bad as they looked, and I realized that many times this hike I've faced things with a "could be worse" mentality. I guess having already done a long distance trail gives you a strong sense of perspective indeed.
At the community center, I mostly hung out with Rambo (who had thru-hiked the AT last year), Kate from Portland, and Shannon from Idaho. Rambo and I struggled to find trail names for them, instead opting for a crazy scenario in the future to present the perfect name. The 4 of us decided to rent a cabin for a night in Idyllwild, which was 2 days away and nestled up near the San Jacinto ridge. We also learned of a fire closure south of town on the ridge, and since the reroute involved mostly road walking, we decided to forgo that misery and rejoin the PCT by hiking up to the ridge out of town. All in all, we will probably end up skipping about 20 miles of trail, but we unanimously agreed that it beats road walking.
We hiked from Warner Springs to a piece of property off the grid called Mikes place, owned by a trail angel. Though Mike is only present during the weekends, we still got to spend time with his friend Josh, who grilled some chicken for us hungry hikers and let us camp in the yard. He showed us some of te classic cars that he and Mike have been trying to fix up, and I of course let him sign my hat. The next day, Rambo, Kate, Shannon and I hiked 25 miles to get to the road crossing to Idyllwild, and we camped right next to a restaurant a little ways down the road. We planned on hitting it up in the morning to start our true zero day. We were disappointed to learn that the building didnt have a spigot, ao we rationed our water that night. On the plus side though, I realized my blisters were almost all healed up. The zero day tomorrow should bring me back to 100%.
Wednesday, May 10, 2017
PCT: It Begins
85 degrees in Campo tomorrow. That's what trail angel Bob Reiss ominously kept telling me as he brought me from the San Diego airport to his house just outside the city. Arriving at his house, I met four other hikers meticulously reconfiguring and weighing their packs in nervous anticipation. I remembered the feeling as I got close to starting the AT, but as a seasoned backpacker, I felt confident in my setup. After a restless night of sleep, a 4:30 AM departure, and an hour and a half drive to the southern terminus near Campo, CA, we took giddy photos of ourselves at the famous monument and took our first steps on PCT. But first, I had Bob sign my large sun hat, which I hope to have covered with trail angel signatures by the end of my trip. They make these long distance trails a more pleasant and interesting experience, and I look forward to having something to remember them by.
Our first day started leisurely, with most of us hiking in a group stopping frequently for sips of water and pictures of the desert landscape. The granite rock formations and the spiky arid plants made me think of a landscape conjured up by Dr. Seuss. This start could not be more different from the AT, but I enjoyed it just as much. As it got close to noon, most of us hikers were eager to find some shade and relax until it got cooler, a practice which is very common on the PCT during hot weather days. Though it gets pretty hot in the sun, there is almost always a gentle cool breeze, which still made me fortunate to be in the desert rather than a hot and humid environment. Our first day ended after 20 miles at Lake Morena Campground, which had a general store nearby where we could top off much needed electrolytes with ice cold gatorade. We sat for a while talking to a guy who was showing off some skin from a rattlesnake he caught earlier that day and listening to stories of his father's small roles in a couple of western movies and hearing him brashly joke with the waitstaff and...................
Blisters. Making feet painfully tender to walk on, and agonizing to put into shoes before the ibuprofen and morning adrenalin kick in. I personally didn't have much problems with blisters on the AT, but the heat and penetrating sand of the PCT destroyed my feet after day one. I'm wearing the same shoes I did on the AT because they fit my feet well, but there was no way I could prepare my feet for the heat and sand. For a couple of days, it was very frustrating to have the motivation and stamina to hike, only to have my blisters be the limiting factor. The most I could do was pop them in as sterile of a manner as possible, wrap them in tape, soak my feet in Epsom salt baths, and prevent infection with antibacterial cream and prayer.
The third day brought my first PCT trail magic of pb&j sandwiches and cold fresh fruit, which really hit the spot in the desert. At the end of the day, I found a camping spot next to a water tank meant for hikers as well as horses, and I met two Canadian girls seeing how far they could get, a guy with a smooth baritone voice appropriately named Radio, a guy who hiked the AT last year named Rambo, a girl carrying a substantial bottle of hot sauce, and many other characters. We watched the sun set over the wide open pasture, and got up early the next morning to get into the town of Julian before it got too hot. A couple of miles along the scrubby desert floor and thoughts of cold lemonade got me to the road crossing, where I got a hitch from someone who regularly fills the water cache near the road. Since he does such an important service to hikers, I gladly let him sign my hat.
As I got into Julian, I followed the stench of other hikers and the aroma of freshly cooked burgers to an establishment called Carmans. With a petite figure and motherly demeanor, the owner welcomes hikers to hang out on the porch of her restaurant which is currently being renovated. I had a great time talking with her and getting to know more hikers. I noticed that many pct hikers are from the west coast and that this is their first long distance hike, so the reality of me having already done the AT attracted some attention. From how I got my trail name to how the two trails compare and contrast, I enjoyed answering questions and figuring out potential trail names for some fresh thru-hikers. I've noticed that the age range of people on the PCT is very similar to that of the AT, but regardless of age, people tend to have around the same quality of gear. Much different than seeing some people begin the AT with 50+lb packs. But perhaps the pct has a smallet margin of error.....
Our first day started leisurely, with most of us hiking in a group stopping frequently for sips of water and pictures of the desert landscape. The granite rock formations and the spiky arid plants made me think of a landscape conjured up by Dr. Seuss. This start could not be more different from the AT, but I enjoyed it just as much. As it got close to noon, most of us hikers were eager to find some shade and relax until it got cooler, a practice which is very common on the PCT during hot weather days. Though it gets pretty hot in the sun, there is almost always a gentle cool breeze, which still made me fortunate to be in the desert rather than a hot and humid environment. Our first day ended after 20 miles at Lake Morena Campground, which had a general store nearby where we could top off much needed electrolytes with ice cold gatorade. We sat for a while talking to a guy who was showing off some skin from a rattlesnake he caught earlier that day and listening to stories of his father's small roles in a couple of western movies and hearing him brashly joke with the waitstaff and...................
Blisters. Making feet painfully tender to walk on, and agonizing to put into shoes before the ibuprofen and morning adrenalin kick in. I personally didn't have much problems with blisters on the AT, but the heat and penetrating sand of the PCT destroyed my feet after day one. I'm wearing the same shoes I did on the AT because they fit my feet well, but there was no way I could prepare my feet for the heat and sand. For a couple of days, it was very frustrating to have the motivation and stamina to hike, only to have my blisters be the limiting factor. The most I could do was pop them in as sterile of a manner as possible, wrap them in tape, soak my feet in Epsom salt baths, and prevent infection with antibacterial cream and prayer.
The third day brought my first PCT trail magic of pb&j sandwiches and cold fresh fruit, which really hit the spot in the desert. At the end of the day, I found a camping spot next to a water tank meant for hikers as well as horses, and I met two Canadian girls seeing how far they could get, a guy with a smooth baritone voice appropriately named Radio, a guy who hiked the AT last year named Rambo, a girl carrying a substantial bottle of hot sauce, and many other characters. We watched the sun set over the wide open pasture, and got up early the next morning to get into the town of Julian before it got too hot. A couple of miles along the scrubby desert floor and thoughts of cold lemonade got me to the road crossing, where I got a hitch from someone who regularly fills the water cache near the road. Since he does such an important service to hikers, I gladly let him sign my hat.
As I got into Julian, I followed the stench of other hikers and the aroma of freshly cooked burgers to an establishment called Carmans. With a petite figure and motherly demeanor, the owner welcomes hikers to hang out on the porch of her restaurant which is currently being renovated. I had a great time talking with her and getting to know more hikers. I noticed that many pct hikers are from the west coast and that this is their first long distance hike, so the reality of me having already done the AT attracted some attention. From how I got my trail name to how the two trails compare and contrast, I enjoyed answering questions and figuring out potential trail names for some fresh thru-hikers. I've noticed that the age range of people on the PCT is very similar to that of the AT, but regardless of age, people tend to have around the same quality of gear. Much different than seeing some people begin the AT with 50+lb packs. But perhaps the pct has a smallet margin of error.....
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