It's Magic - Wednesday, April 9

Sleepless in Seattle. Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks. Together, although a continent apart utter these two words in unison, "Like Magic!"
Both Sally and I are finding it hard to express in words how utterly cool this adventure is. Yes, we are sweating and toiling up and down hot, dry trails. But it is oh so much more. 

We are without a car, 1000 miles from home and friends, totally dependent on ourselves, or so you would think. Yet nearly every hour of the day we come upon a new person plying the trail. Their eyes are alive. They are as utterly thrilled to be here as we are. Quick introductions and comparing points of origin and they are new friends. When they walk away we feel a pang of loss, as if an old friend just walked out of our life. 

And the trail itself. If we were just out for a week or a weekend it might seem hot and dusty and a nuisance to be chasing water sources and perhaps, just another trail. But the enormity of its length makes you feel like it is a long pearl necklace and we are hopping from one pearl to the next, each successive one more exotic than the previous. One pearl might be an unexpected and very necessary cache of water a trail angel (bless them every one!) has left. The next might be a trail town with a local store/cafe with outrageously good food. Hop to the next pearl and you land on a perfect sunrise, or sunset, or swimming lake or hot shower in a campground or an unexpected meeting with a newly met friend. The joy of all those hiking is infectious and the contagion infuses all who set foot to the trail with eyes toward distant points north. 

Like magic. 

We are happily bitten, infected, and suffering the disease gleefully. We hope no cure can be found. And this after only two days. It is a virulent bug. 

This morning was a bit tense. We awoke at 3:50, had a quick bowl of granola and milk, trying to conserve what little water we had. Last night we arrived in camp with 4.5 liters having consumed 7.5 during the hot hike, but 3 cups were turned into a dinner of rice and chicken and another 3 cups quenched our night thirst and made our breakfast milk. So as we hit the trail at 4:45 with headlamps blazing our route we were just shy of three liters with 8.8 miles to go to the next known water. We left so early to avoid the heat and the resulting sweating we could not afford. 

The trail joins a dirt road for 0.7 miles before jumping off the edge and continuing down to very nonexistent Hauser Creek. As we walked the road we saw a SUV coming up the road and rightly guessed it to be border patrol agents on the prowl for undocumented immigrants. They pulled over courteously to let us by and I blurted out "Do you have any extra water? We are a bit short."  A gregarious, happy border agent with a big smile thought a second and then replied "Sure!  I have some left and my shift is just ending." His partner added that he did too, and his was cold!  5 minutes later we had two additional golden liters of water and for the first time in 16 hours we drank deeply and were rid of our persistent dry mouths. We thanked them profusely and with heavier packs but lightened spirits we continued on our way feeling extremely fortunate. At the bottom of the valley where Hauser Creek runs when there is enough water to allow it we found many of the people who had passed us the day before. They were in the process of breaking their camp. We also found a cache of 30 gallon jugs of water left by some unknown trail angels!  Quick conversations, some photos and refilling of our bottles after guzzling a couple liters and we started the 1500' climb out of Hauser Creek with six liters of the precious fluid sloshing in my pack. We had hoped to make the ascent of the hill before the predicted 89° temperatures caught us, and we almost did. The last 200' vertical feet of climbing and the 2 mile decent to the lake were swelteringly hot with no breeze, but we guzzled water like the parched people we were and soon arrived at Morena Lake campground about 11:30. We have decided to stay here for two nights, giving our feet, backs and legs a rest before continuing on to Mt. Laguna 23.4 miles away. 

A word about the people we have met. There were 11 us who started yesterday. We took pictures of them all and recorded their names and invited some to call us for resupply at White Pass should they get there. They are a delight to meet and from all over. Kansas, Arkansas, Montana, Kalama (yes!, Kalama-George slept in the same campsite with us last night), Sacramento, Great Britain. 
T-Plus day 2.