Day 9, 5/25

I slept great at the Idyllwild Inn. They’d just rennovated their sister location. I got a huge bed, giant jaccuzzi-style tub, and laundry service.

It was a hectic morning getting out of town. I slept in a little, and made some time to work on this blog. I made a last minute run to the store to pick up some toothpaste, and then went to get breakfast at the Red Kettle. After getting a big plate of french toast, sausage, and eggs, the next order of business was finding a ride out of town.

After awkwardly sticking my thumb out for a while, eventually I got a ride halfway to Mountain Junction, after which I was able to get a quick hitch in the back of an old dude’s pickup truck back to the Paradise Valley Cafe. It was another 1-mile walk back to the trail from there, but I finally made it back on trail shortly after noon.

The hike up the side mountains of San Jacinto was really cool. The alpine zone reminded me a lot of the Whites. Or maybe the Smokies would be a better comparison, since it’s also a southern alpine zone. Seeing pine trees was a welcome break from the usual desert chaparral, and the poodle dog bushes smelled like some dank weed.

It was evident that there had been lots of wildfires in the area. You could see the old, burnt husks of bushes poking out from under the new growth. It had a very otherworldly look, like walking through a coral reef.

The trail took me up on the ridge, but there was no water to be had up there, so I had to take a 1-mile detour down the side of the mountain to get water from Cedar Creek. I left my bag at the top so I wouldn’t have to haul it back up and ran down with just a bladder to fill up. It was a nice change of pace to go for a run without 30 lbs strapped to my back. On the way back up, I ran into Hunter and Collin going down to camp.

I decided to use the last bit of daylight to get in a few more miles, and I wasn’t disappointed. There were fantastic sunset views of the ridge leading up to San Jacinto, with clouds spilling over the top. I found a reasonable camp site at Fobes Saddle just as it was getting dark.

Day 10, 5/26

I slept well at my campsite in the saddle. I might finally be getting used to sleeping in a tent again. I got up and eagerly prepared a breakfast of instant coffee and pop tarts.

I spent the entire day traversing the San Jacintos. The views were incredible throughout the day, so I was enjoying myself despite a ton of vertical climbing.

The PCT doesn’t actually go to the San Jacinto summit, so I took a 10-mile alternate trail that took me up to the top. Some people would complain about missing miles on the PCT, but the trail I took was most certainly harder, so I didn’t feel like I was cheating.

With all the climbing, I took pretty frequent breaks, which led to pretty frequent snacking. I blew through maybe half my snacks, which I needed to last another few days. It turned out fine, though, since I packed too many dinners. I fixed myself some ramen and tuna as a midday meal.

I summited in the late afternoon, about an hour before sunset. The views were spectacular as expected, but finding a safe path to the peak in the snow was terribly annoying. I took in the view of San Gorgonio for a few minutes before hastily making my way back down the mountain to rejoin the PCT.

It was dark by the time I found a spot to camp, so I haphazardly pitched my tent in a boulder field.

Day 11, 5/27

After packing up camp, I realized a terrible mistake. The next water was 15 miles away, and I had less than a liter left after eating breakfast, so I had to backtrack a mile uphill to draw more water.

Having resolved that minor crisis, I consoled myself with the fact that this day would be almost entirely downhill. That feeling wouldn’t last, though.

Descending down the mountain, the trail was badly eroded with blown down trees scattered about. Climbing over the trees made it feel like more of an obstacle course than a hike, but I figured that once I got down below the forest, it would be smooth sailing. Wrong again.

Finally getting down to the foothills on the north side of San Jacinto, I started getting wide open views of the Palm Desert below. The novelty of it wore off once I realized that that was the only view I was getting for the next 15 miles. The rest of journey down was switchbacks, intense heat and sun exposure, no water, and gusting wind that kept taking off my hood. I was not enjoying myself.

By the time I got to the faucet at the bottom, I had been hiking for 5 miles without any water, but someone also left a cooler full of ice cold Gatorade that cheered me right up. Gotta love trail magic.

I wandered up through the giant washes to the I-10 underpass just as it was getting dark. Supposedly it’s possible to get a hitch over to Cabazon where there’s an In-And-Out and Taco Bell, and I definitely needed the extra food to make it through to my next resupply, but getting a hitch after dark is next to impossible, so I started looking through the comment sections on my trail guide to find a trail angel to help out.

Turns out, there’s a woman named Kristen who hosts hikers only a couple of blocks away. Score! I got a shower, laundry, and slept in her garage. Her boyfriend also hiked the AT, so we hit it off immediately. An unexpectedly productive night.

Day 12, 5/28

I slept in a little and started trying to figure out how to get the Taco Bell I required. Lucky enough, they were able to deliver to this address.

Almost immediately after placing the order, a couple more hikers showed up, Flora and Fauna. I’d seen them before at the PVC, but this time I finally got their names. They warned me about the next section, Mission Creek. Apparently, there was a huge norovirus outbreak at the creek, so chemically treating all water was recommended. They were also speculating that it could actually be algae contamination, which supposedly produces similar symptoms.

My Taco Bell arrived while we were chatting with Kristen. A crunch wrap for breakfast, a quesadilla for lunch, and a burrito for dinner. Excellent.

I got back to the trail before noon and started hiking up into Cottonwood Canyon next to the wind farm. I noticed a sign at the trailhead at the top of the canyon saying the next section was closed and suggesting a website to look for alternates. That would have been nice information to have beforehand, but I was already quite a few miles into this stretch, so I decided to go on.

I ran into another hiker that called himself Cleery. He was carrying less than 10 lbs, no trekking poles or anything, and he wanted to finish the trail in August. He was obviously hiking much faster than I was, but I kept pace with him for a few hours, and we talked. Interesting guy, Canadian, worked in the logging industry planting trees. He ranted for a while about how climate change is destroying the PCT, which turned into a discussion about how screwed up the next few decades are going to be. It was oddly refreshing meeting someone as pessimistic about the future as I am.

Towards the end of the day, I finally made it to Mission Creek. It’s a giant rocky wash winding up through the mountains with a small creek cutting a zigzag path down the center. Navigating the rubble field was a chore. There were very few markers to show when the trail climbed out of the wash, but if you missed them, then you ended up climbing waterfalls. As it got dark, I knew that trying to get though with a flashlight would be a fool’s errand, so I found the flattest spot I could and tried to anchor my tent with rocks since the ground was too hard for stakes. It wasn’t pretty, but it got me though the (miraculously windless) night.

Day 13, 5/29

I woke up the next morning and made myself coffee and oatmeal. Or rather, oatmeal, then coffee, since I used the coffee to clean the oatmeal sludge out of my pot. I put on a brave face, and prepared for what was sure to be another difficult day picking through the rubble field.

It wasn’t that bad once I fully accepted it. Sure, I was only hiking 1.5 mph, and sure, I kept having to cross the creek and get my shoes wet, but I was making steady progress. All I really needed was an attitude adjustment. It’s just the PCT’s way of telling me to toughen up.

It wasn’t long before I ran out of water and had to use some of the norovirus/algae contaminaed water. I filtered and treated with Aquamira, and then I threw in some Nuun tablets to take my mind off of the flavor.

Eventually, the trail climbed up out of the wash, at which point I discovered the reason this section of trail was closed. The trail was utterly destroyed in places. There were some very sketchy spots where the trail crossed over a steep wash and was completely eroded away. It was a bit harrowing crossing those washes where a fall could have killed me and the ground was just crumbling away.

The cause of all the erosion was the wildfires that spread through here several years ago. The dead trees no longer hold the sandy soil together, they blow over in the wind and knock down more trees like dominoes. The lack of tree cover causes water to dry up faster, killing more trees. It all just falls down the mountain, ripping away the topsoil, and exposing the sand underneath to get washed away by the rain.

The sight of it all made me feel deeply sad. It was like visiting the Great Barrier Reef and seeing it all bleached. This very fragile alpine desert ecosystem is slowly falling apart at the edges, and every year the conditions are getting worse.

Things got much better once I got out of the burn zone. Later in the day, I got to enjoy some amazing views as I climbed up above 9000 ft. I decided against taking the out-and-back trail to the San Gorgonio summit since I’ve already been there before, and I didn’t have enough food for an extra day out.

I found a particularly nice campsite, ate some freeze dried lasagna, and went straight to bed.

Day 14, 5/30

My only goal for today was to get to Big Bear as early as possible. I was down to the last of my food, only a couple of protein bars remaining, so I needed to get to town in order to not be miserable.

Luckily, the trails were in much better shape than what I saw yesterday, and it was almost entirely downhill. I put on my headphones, blasted some music, and started swinging my legs. Six hours later I had covered the 18 miles to the road crossing. I called a local trail angel named Kenny, and a half hour later I had a ride into town, a place to stay, and a home-cooked meal.

I met an Israeli hiker named Tamir at Kenny’s place. We spent some time commisserating about the last section of trail, planning our resupply, and talking about the war overseas.