4/19/20, mile: 299, elevation: 4,600 ft.
Jesus H. Chrysler was it cold this morning! I was wearing everything but my hiking clothes and puffy, but was still cold. Too cold to sleep after 5am or so, but it was too cold to do anything. I just layed there staring at the sky praying for the sun to come up. The condensation on the inside of the tent turned to frost again, and then I got to witness frost forming on the outside, and on everything else to boot. Once I started to pack up, the frost was STILL forming on things I took out of the tent. And get this, I was using my water filter (which you squeeze water from one bottle to another) and ice started forming in the one being squeezed. And trying to get the frost off of the fly was hopeless, more got on me and made me colder.
Being a trail camp, this one had a privy with a fence around it, so that became my warming/drying rack for the fly and groundsheet once the sun hit it. After the sun was up, it got better, but it still took me a few miles to get warm. This section of trail is transitioning from the wooded mountains to high desert, so fewer trees and more shrubbery…more sun.
I had a goal today. I wonder if I could pull out 13-ish miles quick enough to make it the malt shop in Lake Arrowhead. It’s 3-miles off of the trail, so a roundtrip hike wouldn’t work for me, not worth it. But since the area I’ll be getting to is popular with day hikers, and it was a Sunday, I might just be able to catch a ride. So I stepped it up and marched onward.
But before that could happen, I had to get there. At first, the hiking was easy: trail easy to follow, the sun was out to warm me up, and there were some pretty spectacular views, including the snow covered mountains in my near future. For the first time in a long time, I was able to look out and about while hiking, instead of just at my feet looking for rocks and roots. Holcomb Creek wasn’t going to let me go that easy. There were a couple of creek crossings, one of them knee deep requiring wet feet. Oh well, at least it was warm. During this section, I had another Trinity Alps flashback; the smell of hot dry pine needles, a trail along a steep hillside with decomposed granite everywhere, and the sound of rushing water below.
Pete was the first other hiker I met this day, and he was out doing voluntary trail maintenance. He had hiked sections of the PCT before, and wanted to give back, so here he was. And since he was about done for the day and heading back, we walked together and talked. He had a great story of an out-of-this-world experience in the John Muir Hut during a storm. And also stories of crazy activities at the Deep Creek Hot Springs (on my intinerary for tomorrow). And then he offered me a ride to town….During the drive, he was telling me about how he was tired of his old life, and once divorce came about, he moved “back home” to Lake Arrowhead. He’s simplified his life and he’s much happier. Pete, I hope you continue to find joy in what you do. Your girlfriend is lucky to have someone as in tune with themselves as you are.
The burger, fries and shake were AWESOME! My god I needed that. Oh yeah, there was another hiker trash eating outside (in the parking lot) when I arrived. Her name is Mary, southbound section hiking for a while. She was lucky enough to get picked up on her walk towards town, then discovered that a friend was out riding dirtbikes in the area so she a ride out of there. Me, I had to walk the 3 miles back to the trail. Luckily, mostly downhill.
Road walking is tough on the feet, especially after a 13 mile day. It was getting late and cold, and I still had to find a campsite. Since this area is so popular, it can be difficult to find places out of sight. The Guthooks app I use to navigate offered a great spot, but still another mile down the trail. I was able to get camp settled in time before the sun set below the canyon wall. The wind was blowing, but I was protected, and I could hear the roar of the river below. This is the same creek where I got water last night and this morning and you could step over it. Now it’s a raging torrent, loud enough to hear over the wind and I was a couple of hundred feet above it.
Savior out.