Woke up this morning to heat. We'd just gone to sleep four hours earlier, and my tent was an over. I stuffed my sleeping bag, dripping sweat everywhere and scrambled out of my tent to surprisingly cool air. I had slept with the rain fly on and closed, in an attempt to maximize shade, but had instead made my tent twenty degrees hotter than the desert air.
We took down camp and made our way down the ravine to find shade, and ended up laying out our sleeping pads under the bridge, where we slept for several hours. After a late lunch, it was time to filter water and leave. We made it out around five o'clock and hiked through the desert as the day cooled off.
This is the first time I've been in Real Desert. Wide open spaces stretched all the way to the mountains far off in the distance. There were Joshua Trees everywhere, and the ground was carpeted with what looked like dry grass. We hiked up hillsides in the deepening shade and made our way into the mountains just before nightfall. After dinner at a creek, we set off in the dark.
Nighthiking is treacherous. My headlamp, which works fine for writing and reading in my tent, barely illuminated the trail, and I found myself unable to see the gradient of the terrain. I stumbled for a few miles before shutting it off and letting the moonlight show me the way. We pushed up sandy hills while the wind, strong and brutal, blew grainy gusts in our faces relentlessly. Physically, it was still much easier than hiking in the heat of daytime, but the strain of focusing on every step was mentally very tiring.
We set up camp at around one a.m. under a tree up in the hills. Hopefully, tomorrow will be all downhill. We're going into Mojave, but there could still be ten miles between us and town and the desert heats up fast in the morning. G'Night.
Monday, July 27, 2009
Saturday, May 30--Day 38
Woke up at six, out at seven. It was a late start today, but we weren't pushing far. Eight miles over some smallish hill, the last heave of earth before finally slipping down into the desert quietly and easily. We found ourselves at Hiker Town around noon. Hiker Town is a house with a big yard. There are chickens and ducks running around all over the place, and inexplicably, an old western-style town. The town may have been built as a movie set. I don't know.
We sat around from noon to five, avoiding the midday heat. During that time, a chick fell into a water trough and was beating his tiny useless wings furiously and squeaking loudly, trying in vain to climb out. I scooped a hand under him and rescued him. That chick owes me a life debt.
At six we packed up and hiked out, the sun set beautifully, and we followed a dirt road as the warm breezes changed to cool breezes. We were night hiking soon enough, and the road seemed to go on forever. The stars were beautiful, though. Nights like this fill me with a nostalgia that I can't really explain.
We set up camp just short of Cottonwood Creek Bridge, which means we're 534 miles in, which means we're 1/5 of the way done! Yeah!
We sat around from noon to five, avoiding the midday heat. During that time, a chick fell into a water trough and was beating his tiny useless wings furiously and squeaking loudly, trying in vain to climb out. I scooped a hand under him and rescued him. That chick owes me a life debt.
At six we packed up and hiked out, the sun set beautifully, and we followed a dirt road as the warm breezes changed to cool breezes. We were night hiking soon enough, and the road seemed to go on forever. The stars were beautiful, though. Nights like this fill me with a nostalgia that I can't really explain.
We set up camp just short of Cottonwood Creek Bridge, which means we're 534 miles in, which means we're 1/5 of the way done! Yeah!
Friday, May 29th-Day 37
-Woke up this morning and took down camp fairly quickly for an early start. The trail took us gradually uphill all morning, until just before lunch, when it lunged upwards into shadeless, breezeless, breathless, relentless heat.
Just as things were becoming unbearable, the trail evened out and we saw the Red Rock Water Tank up a hill to the right. A quick climb later and we found ourselves at the perfect spot for lunch. Amazingly, after we finished eating, dark clouds rolled in and the temperature dropped ten or fifteen degrees. Then, rail began to fall. Rain. I hadn't seen a drop fall out of the sky since Michigan. There wasn't much, just a brief sprinkling, and then it was over. We hiked out, and the clouds stayed all day, providing us with much needed shade.
Not long after lunch, we heard the sound of engines roaming nearby. I was just thinking that there must be a road soon, when a jackass on a dirt bike rounded the corner ahead of me and stopped just short of ending my hike real fast. We stepped off the trail as three other bikers ground to a halt, all surprised to see hikers on a no-motor-vehicles hiking trail. We let them pass, warning that there were other hikers not far behind us. Chumps.
Another few miles, and the trail finally took a downhill turn. It switched back and forth along the mountainside until evening out just before a paved road. We found a great place to set up camp, and relaxed for the rest of the evening. 25 miles today, and we passed the 500 mile mark. We're really doing this. 'Night!
Just as things were becoming unbearable, the trail evened out and we saw the Red Rock Water Tank up a hill to the right. A quick climb later and we found ourselves at the perfect spot for lunch. Amazingly, after we finished eating, dark clouds rolled in and the temperature dropped ten or fifteen degrees. Then, rail began to fall. Rain. I hadn't seen a drop fall out of the sky since Michigan. There wasn't much, just a brief sprinkling, and then it was over. We hiked out, and the clouds stayed all day, providing us with much needed shade.
Not long after lunch, we heard the sound of engines roaming nearby. I was just thinking that there must be a road soon, when a jackass on a dirt bike rounded the corner ahead of me and stopped just short of ending my hike real fast. We stepped off the trail as three other bikers ground to a halt, all surprised to see hikers on a no-motor-vehicles hiking trail. We let them pass, warning that there were other hikers not far behind us. Chumps.
Another few miles, and the trail finally took a downhill turn. It switched back and forth along the mountainside until evening out just before a paved road. We found a great place to set up camp, and relaxed for the rest of the evening. 25 miles today, and we passed the 500 mile mark. We're really doing this. 'Night!
Thursday, May 28th--Day 36
After three helpings of pancakes this morning, another nap in the hammock shortly thereafter, and a trip to the store for a 2-liter bottle of Sunny Delight (I want the empty bottle for increased water capacity), we finally made our goodbyes and got a ride out to the trail head. The late afternoon sun was still hot, and the trail took off on an immediate climb up into the hills, but we soon made our way over the top and coasted an easy eight miles to a water cache, where we set camp for the night. It's been a short day.
I feel that I should talk about Trail Angels. Trail Angels are people who go out of their way to supply hikers with resources beyond their normal means, and to otherwise help in any way they can. Usually, this includes resupplying water caches and offering rides, but sometimes a Trail Angel will put up hikers in their home. All of this is free. Although donations are grudgingly accepted. I've met some really wonderful people doing this. I didn't like in general before I came out here, but I can feel that starting to change. I don't know if there's a better gift that can be given than restoring one's faith in humanity.
There's a creature rustling the tall grass about ten feet away from my tent. I can hear it, but I can't see it. If it comes out, I only hope that's it's cute, and not horrifying. G'Night.
I feel that I should talk about Trail Angels. Trail Angels are people who go out of their way to supply hikers with resources beyond their normal means, and to otherwise help in any way they can. Usually, this includes resupplying water caches and offering rides, but sometimes a Trail Angel will put up hikers in their home. All of this is free. Although donations are grudgingly accepted. I've met some really wonderful people doing this. I didn't like in general before I came out here, but I can feel that starting to change. I don't know if there's a better gift that can be given than restoring one's faith in humanity.
There's a creature rustling the tall grass about ten feet away from my tent. I can hear it, but I can't see it. If it comes out, I only hope that's it's cute, and not horrifying. G'Night.
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