Redirect - Friday, April 11

When we conceived this trip we thought we would be taking it easy and covering short distances with lots of rest time. So we added "play toys" to our packs to fill the hours spent resting-cribbage board, deck of cards, chairs, iPad, ukelele etc. We were not too concerned with how much our packs weighed. But, four days in we find that we are able to hike all day and cover the maximum distances we had hoped to, about 12 miles each day. This means we have no time to "play". Another element to our equation we did not take into account was the time we would spend interacting with all the people doing the PCT with us. We camp each night on the trail or in a "trail town" with other hikers, some we have met before and have become "old" friends and some new acquaintances.

These unforeseen circumstances have caused us to reevaluate what we have in our packs and why. So this afternoon, having just completed our six mile hike for the day we went through each other's packs and threw out the items that are not specifically needed. We packed them into a stuff sack to be boxed up and sent home in the mail from the hamlet of Mt. Laguna, which is 5 trail miles away and tomorrow's destination.
Once we sorted the gear we laid in the tent for the rest of the afternoon, a forced relaxation so we will have the strength for the days ahead. We planned where we would camp and where to get water on the journey between Mt. Laguna and Warner Springs, the next 63 mile long leg of our trek. It is a bit tricky, because the water is not where the camping is, so you have to make sure you can carry enough water for the day, camping and the time to the next water source. In our favor, the temperature has dropped so we won't go through water so quickly. Highs are predicted in the high 60s to low 70s with lows in the high 30s to low 40s-much more comfortable for hiking.

We have been hiking through 5 to 8 foot deep chaparral since the border-bushes of sage and other vegetation I don't know the names of that are so thick you cannot pass through it. The trail builders mowed a swath through it with power saws, so the trail is the only passage through this thicket. There is no place to camp off the trail. Even if the ground were level, which it rarely is, there is not a two foot by two foot clear patch anywhere that would allow you to lay down. The campsites are clearly marked on the maps I downloaded from the web and on the GPS map program on my iPhone I use to located our position. But sometimes they are 3 or 4 miles apart. The only place to stop in between is right on the trail. Trees only grow in draws where the water table must be near the surface or rain collects and their shade is a welcome respite from the sun.
Sally has reminded me that I should tell you there are some less than perfect aspects to the trip. Although these are true, I see them as additions to the adventure, such as after two days of hiking we both stink. That's stink with a capital S. Deodorant can't cut the odor. Sally has come to calling us Pigpen and Dirtbag. Because of the lack of water on the trail there is no chance for bathing or washing clothes. We wipe down with a baby wipe apiece each night, our square inches of sweating skin vastly outnumbering our meager baby wipe.
The trail is well built with a low angle steady grade, but after hours of lugging our gear, food and many liters of water, we are beat at the end of the day and glad to drop our load.
Sally calls this 90 days of spa and hopes to shed many pounds by the time we have to fly home. The constant sun and wind on here hair has, as she puts it "turned it into straw". She has taken to wearing a buff (like a tubular scarf) over her head to protect her hair. As she says, I have aged 10 years in the past four days.
So, for those of you who think I have been seeing this trip through rose colored glasses, this is a small dose of the other side.