My Trails

It has been quite some time since I last updated my blog, so I wrote this one very long to make up for it. Feel free to skim through if you want.

Summer has come to the Southwest. Anza-Borrego State Park, the area where I’ve been using as my home base, has seen triple digit temperatures for the last few days, and the weatherman sees no end in sight. I feel for the PCT hikers just coming into the hottest and driest part of the desert. Always on their mind are questions: How far to the next water source? How much water do I need to carry? Will there be water when I get there? It’s something I never had to worry much about on the AT.

Last Wednesday I moved to a campground 8 miles north of Lake Morena, the site of this year’s kickoff party for PCT thruhikers. It would be a short commute along a nice highway, close enough that I could ride my motorcycle to the festival and still maintain a base to camp for a few days. I was somewhat skeptical that anything at the gathering would interest me, but I was keen to see what all the fuss was about. Anyway, I knew it would be the best place to find a guidebook I could use for sectioning parts of the trail, and also purchase a pair of gaiters I had heard about.

The campground was right on the trail but I didn’t really expect to meet anyone hiking through this close to the big sendoff. Boy was I wrong! Hikers drifted in and out all day, stopping to fill up on water, using the privy, and resting at a picnic table in the shade of a giant willow tree. I spoke to several of them and wished them luck as they lifted their heavy packs and walked on up the trail.

Early in the afternoon, two girls walked in and sat down in the grass in front of my camper. They removed their shoes and began to examine their feet with much concern. Twenty-six miles in the last two days had done a number on their feet and they were both nursing blisters and hot-spots. I could tell they were ready to stop for the day and save their feet so I invited them to camp at my site. There was plenty of room for their tents at my campsite and no sense paying for another one. And besides, I kind of like doing trail magic for hikers.

Their names were Melissa and Amanda, hiking solo but meeting up and seeing each other several times during the day. They both planned to catch rides back to the AZDPCTKO from Mt. Laguna, two easy days further up the trail. I learned a bit about their lives and why they wanted to hike the trail and they listened as I told them what it was like to hike 2000 miles through the Appalachian Mountains. There is a kind of bond all long-distance hikers share and it makes conversation come easy.

The next day their feet were much better. They thanked me for letting them stay, gave me a hug, and set out for the climb to Mt. Laguna. I watched them go and wished I was on the trail again. Long distance-hiking is really a journey of the people you meet as much as it is about the places you see.

Later that day another young hiker stopped to chat. He told me that he was thinking of stopping for the day and was looking for someplace to camp. I offered him the same deal I had given the girls and he was grateful to accept. We introduced ourselves and exchanged some quick hiking history. I learned that he had hiked the AT the year before me, and now he was hiking part of the PCT. Time was going to take him off trail before he could finish the whole thing, but he would go as far as he could before he had to leave. I was surprised that he introduced himself as Zack and didn’t have a trail-name from the AT. He told me that he was called Whitney Houston on the AT but thought that it would be in poor taste to use it now. I couldn’t believe it! The book I am reading, “Between a Rock and a White Blaze”, by Julie Urbanski, tells of the authors story of hiking the AT with her husband and meeting a guy named Whitney Houston. They all hiked together for many miles. From her descriptions in her excellent book, I felt like I knew him like a trail friend and it was almost like reminiscing about our hike.

Whitney is one super hiker. He is just easing into the trail at this point but when he gets his trail legs back – watch out! On the AT he was doing 30 and 35-mile days. It took me six months to finish the trail. He was done in 90 days. In the morning we said goodbye and he was gone in three steps.

I spent the afternoon exploring on my motorcycle. I rode to Pine Valley for groceries and then up part of the winding road to Mt. Laguna. Later on I buzzed down to the border where the trail begins to read some of the hiker’s logbook entries. The activities at the PCT party were starting at dusk so I put on my winter coat to ward off the night air and drove over the hill to see what was going on. The answer was hundreds – if not thousands – of mostly young people, wandering around a campground, sitting on the grass in front of little tents, eating, playing games, talking, and of course, drinking beer. I bought the gaiters I wanted from a vender at a small booth and then went to listen to a presentation on “Keeping food safe from bears”. When it was over I heard behind me, “Hi Castaway”, turned around, and there was Melissa, one of the girls I met the day before.

It was quite a coincidence to see a familiar face in all those people. We were both headed to the film festival where past hikers submit short films of their hike in a contest of sorts, so we sat together on the grass and watched the show. Most of the films were amateurish and longer than they should have been but it was a nice evening anyway. I said goodbye to Melissa and froze my butt on a frigid, night ride back to camp.

The next morning a steady stream of hikers passed by my camp. They were mostly youthful, filled with optimism, happy to be on the trail and living their dream, determined to go all the way to Canada. I was packed and ready to pull out, but there were so many hikers stopping for water it was impossible to get to the faucet to fill my tank, so I drove around to the back side of the campground to fill up. My next stop was Temecula, CA., for supplies and laundry, and then up into the mountains for some cooler temperatures.

As I write this I am at a campground 10 miles northeast of Anza, CA., on Route 74. It is part of the San Bernardino National Forest, and because of the San Jacinto Mountains, gives me absolutely no cell signal. I will be here for a couple of days and then move up a little further north. My next two places to see will be Idyllwild and then Big Bear Lake. I don’t want to get too far up and find myself in cold weather, but things are definitely looking up.

While I was in Temecula I bought a gold pan. I thought it would be a fun new hobby to try my luck panning for gold in the rivers up north in California. On the box that contained the gold pan it says, “FIND AN OUNCE OF GOLD A DAY! “ Gold is currently worth about $1500 an ounce, so I’m figuring that shortly I will be on easy street!

There is a philosophy among nomads traveling on a budget, which states that you must save money in every way possible. But there is also the realization that to deprive yourself of every attraction, luxury, and new activity, makes no sense. There are just sometimes you have to bite the bullet and shell out the cash for something fun. And so on Friday last, Richard and I drove to San Diego to tour the USS Midway, a decommissioned aircraft carrier anchored in the San Diego Bay.

Built in 1945 and retired in 1991, the Midway was active through wars in Korea, Vietnam, and in the Middle East. Pilots based on the Midway shot down several MiGs during the Vietnam War including the first and last. The carrier was particularly important for its contribution in the Persian Gulf during Operation Desert Storm, and played a large role in helping to defeat Saddam Hussein and his army.

It was expensive to park and purchase tickets for the tour, but relatively speaking, for a whole day’s entertainment and enjoyment, well worth the price. We arrived quite early but there were still many tourists and schoolchildren wandering the decks and climbing through the maze of passageways. I say tour but the term may be misleading. Everyone was issued a small player that hung around your neck and was fitted with headphones. There were numbers to follow where you could activate the recording and learn about different stations throughout the ship, a self-guided tour to be more precise.

To see the whole ship took several hours and lots of walking. We got to see where and how the men aboard the Midway lived, how they spent their time, and what it may have been like to spend several months at sea. It was really a small city floating on the ocean, and just like in civilian life, it depended how important you were as to how you lived. Enlisted seamen slept in cramped bunks and were fed at a chow line, while officers had better bedrooms, ate at tables, and were served by waiters. The Admiral and Captain had the nicest quarters but also the greatest responsibility for the welfare of thousands of men under their command.

Unless you see it and walk through, it is hard to imagine the size. Numbers in thousands of tons, acres of flight deck, millions of gallons of fuel, and thousand of crew, are meaningless to comprehend, and it seems amazing that something built for $90 million and overhauled for $260 million in 1970 would become obsolete and discarded 20 years later. Two nuclear carriers were anchored across the bay and we could only imagine the changes to electronics, computers systems, and propulsion system. And we are probably talking billions to build them.

We thought it was a good touch when we walked through the dentist’s office. The restorers had pumped the smell of the drill through the room along with an animated patient squirming in the chair, and it made you cringe from memory of unpleasant visits to the dentist. We also liked the talk by a former pilot as he told the story of being launched from the deck by catapult.

I guess Richard and I were still thinking about saving money because we resisted the $8 hamburger at the snack bar. It was well into the afternoon as we left the ship and headed back to our park in Temecula. We stopped at a Carl’s Jr. for a late lunch and ran into a little Friday afternoon traffic coming through Escondido, but still made good time home. Richard would make the same drive in the morning to pick up Dianna coming back from Texas while I would move back south a few miles.

It was great spending a few days with Richard again. I helped him move his car a few miles from an RV park in Aguanga, and he took me all over Temecula looking for a new stove. We would hang out each night watching TV and even went to see a movie. It is not often that a movie comes along that we both are interested in, but the story of Jackie Robinson was just out and something we both wanted to see. We said goodbye on Saturday and I drove back to Blair Valley while he and Dianna headed towards Arizona. They will eventually travel to Texas, Tennessee and beyond.

This coming weekend is the kickoff for PCT hikers. Lake Morrana near the start of the trail has a big party with several outfitter venders, speakers and information about the trail. I plan on going down for a day to see what it is all about. It’s always fun to be around hikers and talk trail with them. I remember the optimism and excitement that you feel before starting the journey of a thruhike, and it’s fun to see it in the faces of those just beginning the dream. I’m hoping that summer will begin soon after that and I can begin my travels further north, too.

It has been several days since I’ve updated my blog, and I have a couple of adventures I must record. At my age, it is easy to forget all the details that make this journal such an interesting read. I know you are anxiously awaiting every word, so here we go.

For three days my van and I crouched in a braced position as fierce winds tried to remove us from the mountain. I admit that I stayed inside and hung on while my van did most of the work. It seemed like the wind got stronger in the night, robbing me of sleep and leaving me wondering what I had forgotten to tie down. Every morning I would look around the campground for items whipped away in the night, and it seemed as if other campers had been blown away, too. At the end of the storm, everyone else had pulled out and I was the only survivor left.

Then the weather turned nice. The wind subsided and temps were comfortable. On Thursday morning, I hiked a short trail to the top of Culp Valley where there were amazing views of the valley of Borrego Springs. Then in the afternoon I found an oasis of palm trees on a little used path to a spring. Despite the wind, Anza-Borrego State Park was a fun place to spend a few days and I’m sure I will be back someday, but now it was time to do a little serious hiking.

In the morning, I dropped my motorcycle off at the Community Center in Warner Springs and drove my van back to a parking lot near Ranchita. These two points are places where the Pacific Crest Trail passes through. The span is only 9 miles of trail, but I figured it would be an easy day-hike and test of my shuttle system. I was on the trail by 8 am and walked into Warner Springs just before noon. As soon as I started hiking, I realized that the PCT is different than the AT in so many ways.

The trail was so smooth I could actually take my eyes off of my feet for a few seconds – which hardly ever happens on the AT – and the climbs are so gentle you’re not even aware your going up. The bad part is that you’re walking in the sun most of the time. The AT is mostly in the cooling shade of the woods and I never had to worry about sunscreen lotion – I lathered up with spf for babies before I walked out.

I didn’t realize that I would meet so many PCT thruhikers on the trail. There were 8 hikers at the community center in Warner Springs, stocking up on supplies, picking up mail drops, taking showers, and using the computers to update blogs and journals. It was fun talking with them and comparing stories of their hike and mine. I rode my motorcycle back to the van and pushed on.

That afternoon I moved to a campground on Palomar Mountain. It is a long, winding road to the top, but the campground has showers and is close to the observatory, two things that I wanted to see. I called Richard and Dianna and asked them if they could ride up the next day and tour the observatory with me. They said yes. So the next day we wandered through the museum and climbed the path to the dome and telescope containing the 200 inch lens made at Corning Glass Works, only a few miles from where I used to live in NY. After the observatory we rode down the mountain to Pala, CA, and had ice cream at the casino. It was a fun day.

Tonight I am on top of another mountain. I drove north to Anza, CA, continued into the San Bernardino NF, and wound up a rutted forest road to a campground on top of Thomas Mountain. Down below in the valley the sky is shrouded with fog and mist but up here the sun is shining bright. I drove my motorcycle up some of the forest roads checking out other campsites and enjoying the views. There was one other person camped here but he left and now I am alone. I’m not sure this is where I should be tonight – another forecast of high winds and cold – but I will hunker down and make the best of it. At least I have good cell signal and lots of TV stations.

The weather was getting warmer each day so I decided to get to a higher elevation. I needed to do laundry, fill up on water, and pick up some groceries, so it seemed like a good time to move. I’m now at a campground north of Borrego Springs called Culp Valley, surrounded by hills and huge boulders, and boasting an altitude 1000 feet higher than Blair Valley. I’d driven by here a couple of times on my motorcycle but never stopped in to have a look. It is a nice campground with quite a few secluded sites and a restroom for convenience. I will probably be here for a few days before I move on to the San Bernardino National forest.

View

The winds have picked up to hurricane force. Well, maybe not quite that strong, but a good gale force wind I’m sure. Last night the van rocked and bounced as I lay awake listening to things blow around outside. I finally got up and went outside to find my motorcycle had blown over and the TV antenna was twisted off. I moved everything to the lee side of the van and fought my way through sideways blowing sand and rain to get back inside; it was hard to even open the door against the force of the wind. Needless to say, I didn’t get much sleep last night, and as soon as the wind lets up, I should go look for my gas can and a couple of other missing objects.

I have no cell service here but I can pick up a lot of TV stations (as soon as I fix the broken antenna.) It has been quite a while since I’ve had any TV reception and I spent most of last night flipping through channels, trying to decide what to watch. I don’t think I watched one program all the way through – probably not the most productive way to fill up on entertainment.

I’m back camping on the Ogilby road near Yuma, AZ. I will only be here for a couple of days. I needed to make a trip into Mexico to buy some drugs… legal medications, of course… what were you thinking? As long as I had to drive back to the border, I took advantage of cheaper Arizona gas and stopped at a couple of big box stores to resupply. I even took in a movie.

It is pretty hot here and it doesn’t even cool off much at night. Last night I didn’t get under the covers until early in the morning. The good thing is that the desert has very few bugs. I can leave the windows and doors open and not be eaten. It has helped, too, that there is a breeze.

Tomorrow I will head back into the higher elevations near Borrego Springs. It will be warm enough to do a little hiking on the PCT soon, so I’m looking forward to walking a few trails in the near future. I don’t know why but it always seems easier to blog when I’m hiking.

Ps. The movie was called “Emperor” about the occupation after the war with Japan. I hope I didn’t give away too much, Daryl, and Richard, I’m sure it is entirely factual! It didn’t get good reviews, but I thought it was good.