Up at five today, and hiking by six. As we climbed higher into the hills, clouds rolled in. Suddenly, it began to hail. We'd just left the Mojave Desert, and there were hailstones stinging us as we walked.
It stopped hailing soon enough, and we were left with a cloudy sky and a cool hike. We sat down for lunch at a spring, and, just as we finished, it began to rain. We put on our jackets and pack covers and hiked out, hoping that the rain would subside, but it didn't. The trail became muddy, my shorts were soaked, and my hands were freezing. Hiking in the rain is a miserable experience. When we encounter it in the north, we'll be ready for it. Here, though, there are no deciduous trees to take cover under. The entire ground is wet, and there's no escape.
We put in ten miles and made it to a campground just as the rain let up. As I sat in my tent cooking dinner, the sun finally burst through the clouds, warming me. I took the water pot from my stove (in my vestibule; I don't want to burn my tent down), and, leaning in, tried to blow out the flame. A cloud of fire leapt out into my face. Now it smells like burned hair in here, and one of my eyebrows is slightly shorter. Night!
Sunday, August 9, 2009
Tuesday, June 2nd-Day 41
We stayed up until around ten thirty last night, late for us. At about four in the morning, Mark suddenly started talking to us, loudly. I'm not sure what he was saying, but we tried for a while to ignore him, hoping he'd get the idea. He did not. I think he was going on about how great it is that we're doing this, and how nice it was that we were able to hang out with him and Tony, who he would sometimes address. Tony, who was sleeping in the RV, did not answer. After about ten minutes and one round of Mark saying "I know you guys are awake," I finally responded, and we talked briefly until I convinced him that maybe it was time to go back to sleep. He quieted down for about half an hour, and started again. This time, it was Jerry's turn, and I fell back asleep while they chatted. After that he and Tom talked. By then, it was five thirty, so we just got up. I found myself wondering if we were in the presence of a truly crazy person as I came back from the bathroom, and then in the morning light, I got a look at him. He was leaning up against the inside rear corner of the house, sitting on a stack of pillows, and there was an empty 1.75 liter vodka bottle in his hand. It was five thirty in the morning, and he was smashed because he's been drinking all night. We sat around for a while as he made the same jokes over and over again until he finally fell asleep. Tony got up and made a delicious breakfast, and after we ate, we napped in the shade inside the house. We woke up at noon, packed, and thanked our hosts for a great evening and an unusual morning. Then Tony took us back to the trailhead, where we ate hot dogs for lunch before finally heading back out. Another twelve or thirteen miles, and here we are.
We did find an awesome campsite. There's a small grove of trees and soft, clear ground. In the middle of the grove, someone left bags full of salami and Crystal Light. It was like finding a treasure chest! Night.
We did find an awesome campsite. There's a small grove of trees and soft, clear ground. In the middle of the grove, someone left bags full of salami and Crystal Light. It was like finding a treasure chest! Night.
Monday, June 1st, Day 40
Woke up at five thirty to a gorgeous sunrise, which I tried to capture in digital form on my semi-functional camera. Won't see how it turned out until Onyx, unfortuntely.
A cool morning hike took us down out of the mountains, through a wind farm and ultimately to the Tehachapi/Willow Springs road, where we began the ten-mile walk to Mojave. Our thumbs were out at every car that passed our way, but traffic was light, and comprised mostly of semi trucks and cars too small for three men and their packs. After we'd walked about three miles, a bright blue Toyota whatever pulled over, and a man named Gabriel picked us up. We listened to AC/DC and asked the important questions about town, namely about fast food places, which we walked to after he kindly dropped us off at the post office. I have finally eaten at a Jack-In-The-Box. I can go home now. Aha.
After food (so much!) we walked (laboriously) across town in the afternoon sun. Mojave is wide open and spread out, and the twenty-minute walk to the Stater Bros. grocery store took us past a handful of gas stations and restaurants on one side and a scenic vista of the distant mountains on the other, with lots and lots of nothing between us and them.
While we were shopping, a man approached me and asked if the packs outside belonged to us. I said yes, and when I told him where we're going, he seemed genuinely impressed. He intorduced himself (Mark), and after meeting Tom and Jerry, offered to let us stay the night at the house he and his friend are building. We agreed, and soon found ourselves ten miles away in California City, eating junk food in the yard of a building site. Mark and Tony (his friend) entertained us for hours with truly hilarious and exciting stories. These two have lived.
After a delicious dinner of flame-grilled chicken and hot dogs, we set out our sleepin pads in the framework of the house and prepared for bed.
This house is a wooden skeleton. I love being in buildings before the drywall goes up, and stepping between the slats, breaking the rules. There is no roof on this building, and when I lie on my back, I'm looking straight up at the stars. The breeze is cool, and I could not be happier to be out here right now. 'Night.
A cool morning hike took us down out of the mountains, through a wind farm and ultimately to the Tehachapi/Willow Springs road, where we began the ten-mile walk to Mojave. Our thumbs were out at every car that passed our way, but traffic was light, and comprised mostly of semi trucks and cars too small for three men and their packs. After we'd walked about three miles, a bright blue Toyota whatever pulled over, and a man named Gabriel picked us up. We listened to AC/DC and asked the important questions about town, namely about fast food places, which we walked to after he kindly dropped us off at the post office. I have finally eaten at a Jack-In-The-Box. I can go home now. Aha.
After food (so much!) we walked (laboriously) across town in the afternoon sun. Mojave is wide open and spread out, and the twenty-minute walk to the Stater Bros. grocery store took us past a handful of gas stations and restaurants on one side and a scenic vista of the distant mountains on the other, with lots and lots of nothing between us and them.
While we were shopping, a man approached me and asked if the packs outside belonged to us. I said yes, and when I told him where we're going, he seemed genuinely impressed. He intorduced himself (Mark), and after meeting Tom and Jerry, offered to let us stay the night at the house he and his friend are building. We agreed, and soon found ourselves ten miles away in California City, eating junk food in the yard of a building site. Mark and Tony (his friend) entertained us for hours with truly hilarious and exciting stories. These two have lived.
After a delicious dinner of flame-grilled chicken and hot dogs, we set out our sleepin pads in the framework of the house and prepared for bed.
This house is a wooden skeleton. I love being in buildings before the drywall goes up, and stepping between the slats, breaking the rules. There is no roof on this building, and when I lie on my back, I'm looking straight up at the stars. The breeze is cool, and I could not be happier to be out here right now. 'Night.
Monday, July 27, 2009
Sunday, May 31st--Day 39
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.
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.
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.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
