Saturday, May 31, 2014
In Transit - Friday, May 30
We are all going somewhere, either physically across the surface of the globe, forward in our lives or forward in time, or some combination of the three. Some people have stopped moving physically and have planted roots to move their lives forward through time. We have met some on the trail that move across the globe and forward in time, but don't advance their lives, the drifters. And we all know some that move forward in time, but nothing else, choosing to, or through fate of circumstance end up living an arrested life. The one movement we cannot stop is the forward march of time. There are many sayings out there about how we are all given the same amount of time, it is up to us to choose how to use it.
Sally and I gave ourselves 91 days, from April 8 to July 8, to hike and experience the PCT in what we hoped would be an adventure. It has been all we hoped for and more. We hoped to move forward in all three venues, time, geography and experiences. Again, we feel blessed to have had such great fortune.
Although it is a month away we can feel the time we set aside coming to a close. There is so much trail to hike and so little time. Sally's two week hiatus for her foot and my three day side track with the runs set us back in time and forced a decision. Should we just keep moving up the trail and get as far as we can, or can we better utilize the time we have left. Once on a mission I plod forward, conquering time and distance without considering such possibilities. However, my life partner has a mind that constantly evaluates and analyzes and creates alternate scenarios. So it was Sally who realized if we stayed on the trail sequentially gobbling up miles our time would runout before we could complete the most beautiful part of the trail, the High Sierra from Whitney to Yosemite. As we sweated under our tarp in the desert sun a few days ago she realized we were going to repeat our hot tarp scenario for the next 180 miles and thereby only have time for less than 100 miles of the 280 in the high country. So, the decision was made to skip forward 180 desert trail miles to Kennedy Meadows and the start of the Sierra.
We woke in the Tehachapi airport picnic area after a night filled with passing freight trains blowing their whistles. Sally only heard one, but I thought it was an endless stream.
We returned to the Pilot's lounge to shower, cook breakfast and relax for the morning before walking the mile to K-Mart to catch our bus to Mojave, the first leg of today's transit to Kennedy Meadows. We found a young thru hiker, Vegetative, lounging in a recliner when we entered. As we talked with him his anger at the world quickly became apparent. He was convinced the government, large corporations and the rich were in a vast conspiracy to subjugate us all and we were powerless to change anything. He had never voted, considering it a joke and a worthless waste of effort. We talked about the power of one person and the difference that could be made. How Sally's dad got elected to the PUD and helped stop the wasteful spending on the WPPSS projects. How Mike Owen organized SW Lewis county to stop the siting of three nuclear power plants and those same people stopped a medical waste incinerator and a prison. Then we elaborated on the work of Vision Toledo and how it brought the community together to improve the economic opportunity of the town. It took an hour of finding common ground and building upon it to help him see he could make a difference if he choose to work from within the system to effect positive change. Both Sally and I were surprised when, as he was leaving he thanked us profusely for getting him out of his funk and giving him useful ideas on how he could make his voice heard and effect change. He was returning home after the hike to organize a group to bring an end to the fluoridation of water in his home town.
We caught the bus near K-Mart at 12:45, $1.00 fare, and rode the hour to Mojave, a very decrepit looking town smack in the middle of the flat desert and adjacent to Edwards Air Force Base. An hour later, after mailing some cards we were on the bus up 395 toward Bishop. We arranged for the driver to drop us at the road intersection of 395 and 9 Mile Canyon Rd which leads to Kennedy Meadows. As he stopped the bus to let us off we could hear the other riders gasping in amazement that we were willing and wanting to get off the bus in the middle of the 93° desert with the intent of hitch hiking 25 miles up to Kennedy Meadow. One vocal woman near the door said, "That's a decision they are going to regret!"
We positioned ourselves on the corner and prepared to hitch hike. Hundreds of cars roared up and down 395, but none made the turn to Kennedy Meadows. After an hour a truck and car made the turn. They saw our outstretched thumbs and packs and stopped to pick us up. Pretty good odds, one car and one ride!
I rode in the truck with a science camp teacher out hiking for the weekend and Sally rode with his wife in the following car. We discussed science topics all the way up to the meadows where he dropped us off at the Kennedy Meadows Store. Immediately, we recognized Arctic and Sunbeam, two of the sweetest kids on the PCT. Arctic has the kindest eyes we have ever seen and the actions to match them. Sunbeam does not have a sour bone in her body and exudes warmth, joy and friendliness. Arctic gave us the quick tour and outline of how the place works and Sunbeam caught us up on her adventures since we last saw her a month ago.
The area around the store is awash with PCT hikers, old dilapidated travel trailers, junk chairs, fallen trees and random haphazard outbuildings long past their useful life. We found a place for our tent amount the refuse and kids and then moved to the large deck attached to the store to catch up with hikers we had not seen for a long time and buy some goodies in the store. Eventually, we returned to camp to cook dinner and settle in for the night.
It was great to be at 6000', surrounded by Piñon Pines and cool air knowing the Sierra Mountains were only 40 trail miles away.
Tomorrow we hope to retrieve the packages Wendy, Sally's sister and marvelous personal trail angel to Sally and I had sent to the store a week earlier. Five packages, including two boxes of food and gear, a boxed up ice axe and two bear cans are waiting inside the store, or so we hope. We plan to hike out Of Kennedy Meadows Sunday morning, taking nine days to reach Kearsarge Pass where we will exit to gather a resupply in the tiny town of Independence. It is doubtful we will have cell service until we reach Independence, so although I will continue to write, they reports will not make the blog until I am able to upload them. I thought I would be voiceless here at Kennedy, but a trail angel has set up a Satellite Internet Service for PCT hikers, the only connection to the outside world other than a road and a pay phone.
Our transit from desert to mountains across the face of the earth was successful and we are poised to move forward into some new and some familiar territories.
Sally and I gave ourselves 91 days, from April 8 to July 8, to hike and experience the PCT in what we hoped would be an adventure. It has been all we hoped for and more. We hoped to move forward in all three venues, time, geography and experiences. Again, we feel blessed to have had such great fortune.
Although it is a month away we can feel the time we set aside coming to a close. There is so much trail to hike and so little time. Sally's two week hiatus for her foot and my three day side track with the runs set us back in time and forced a decision. Should we just keep moving up the trail and get as far as we can, or can we better utilize the time we have left. Once on a mission I plod forward, conquering time and distance without considering such possibilities. However, my life partner has a mind that constantly evaluates and analyzes and creates alternate scenarios. So it was Sally who realized if we stayed on the trail sequentially gobbling up miles our time would runout before we could complete the most beautiful part of the trail, the High Sierra from Whitney to Yosemite. As we sweated under our tarp in the desert sun a few days ago she realized we were going to repeat our hot tarp scenario for the next 180 miles and thereby only have time for less than 100 miles of the 280 in the high country. So, the decision was made to skip forward 180 desert trail miles to Kennedy Meadows and the start of the Sierra.
We woke in the Tehachapi airport picnic area after a night filled with passing freight trains blowing their whistles. Sally only heard one, but I thought it was an endless stream.
We returned to the Pilot's lounge to shower, cook breakfast and relax for the morning before walking the mile to K-Mart to catch our bus to Mojave, the first leg of today's transit to Kennedy Meadows. We found a young thru hiker, Vegetative, lounging in a recliner when we entered. As we talked with him his anger at the world quickly became apparent. He was convinced the government, large corporations and the rich were in a vast conspiracy to subjugate us all and we were powerless to change anything. He had never voted, considering it a joke and a worthless waste of effort. We talked about the power of one person and the difference that could be made. How Sally's dad got elected to the PUD and helped stop the wasteful spending on the WPPSS projects. How Mike Owen organized SW Lewis county to stop the siting of three nuclear power plants and those same people stopped a medical waste incinerator and a prison. Then we elaborated on the work of Vision Toledo and how it brought the community together to improve the economic opportunity of the town. It took an hour of finding common ground and building upon it to help him see he could make a difference if he choose to work from within the system to effect positive change. Both Sally and I were surprised when, as he was leaving he thanked us profusely for getting him out of his funk and giving him useful ideas on how he could make his voice heard and effect change. He was returning home after the hike to organize a group to bring an end to the fluoridation of water in his home town.
We caught the bus near K-Mart at 12:45, $1.00 fare, and rode the hour to Mojave, a very decrepit looking town smack in the middle of the flat desert and adjacent to Edwards Air Force Base. An hour later, after mailing some cards we were on the bus up 395 toward Bishop. We arranged for the driver to drop us at the road intersection of 395 and 9 Mile Canyon Rd which leads to Kennedy Meadows. As he stopped the bus to let us off we could hear the other riders gasping in amazement that we were willing and wanting to get off the bus in the middle of the 93° desert with the intent of hitch hiking 25 miles up to Kennedy Meadow. One vocal woman near the door said, "That's a decision they are going to regret!"
We positioned ourselves on the corner and prepared to hitch hike. Hundreds of cars roared up and down 395, but none made the turn to Kennedy Meadows. After an hour a truck and car made the turn. They saw our outstretched thumbs and packs and stopped to pick us up. Pretty good odds, one car and one ride!
I rode in the truck with a science camp teacher out hiking for the weekend and Sally rode with his wife in the following car. We discussed science topics all the way up to the meadows where he dropped us off at the Kennedy Meadows Store. Immediately, we recognized Arctic and Sunbeam, two of the sweetest kids on the PCT. Arctic has the kindest eyes we have ever seen and the actions to match them. Sunbeam does not have a sour bone in her body and exudes warmth, joy and friendliness. Arctic gave us the quick tour and outline of how the place works and Sunbeam caught us up on her adventures since we last saw her a month ago.
The area around the store is awash with PCT hikers, old dilapidated travel trailers, junk chairs, fallen trees and random haphazard outbuildings long past their useful life. We found a place for our tent amount the refuse and kids and then moved to the large deck attached to the store to catch up with hikers we had not seen for a long time and buy some goodies in the store. Eventually, we returned to camp to cook dinner and settle in for the night.
It was great to be at 6000', surrounded by Piñon Pines and cool air knowing the Sierra Mountains were only 40 trail miles away.
Tomorrow we hope to retrieve the packages Wendy, Sally's sister and marvelous personal trail angel to Sally and I had sent to the store a week earlier. Five packages, including two boxes of food and gear, a boxed up ice axe and two bear cans are waiting inside the store, or so we hope. We plan to hike out Of Kennedy Meadows Sunday morning, taking nine days to reach Kearsarge Pass where we will exit to gather a resupply in the tiny town of Independence. It is doubtful we will have cell service until we reach Independence, so although I will continue to write, they reports will not make the blog until I am able to upload them. I thought I would be voiceless here at Kennedy, but a trail angel has set up a Satellite Internet Service for PCT hikers, the only connection to the outside world other than a road and a pay phone.
Our transit from desert to mountains across the face of the earth was successful and we are poised to move forward into some new and some familiar territories.
Filth to Fastidiousness - Thursday, May 29
The Anderson's are kind and generous to a fault. They maintain a water cache with cases of beer and pop and gallons of water as well as feed and entertain hikers every night in their home for two months. The condition of their house suggests they are not independently wealthy, quite the contrary. The house and grounds are filthy, dirty, disheveled and disorganized with mounds of garbage and scattered debris. Yet, they happily feed and shelter hikers each night at considerable expense in spite of the obvious disruption to their lives.
The disheveled nature of their home fits well with the condition of PCT hikers who arrive daily covered in dirt from the trail accustomed to filthy living conditions. Many who hike the trail are young and in the process of defining and discovering who they are; experimenting with lifestyles, drugs, friends, sex and more. Often it is a lifestyle throwback to the hippies of the sixties, as are the Anderson's. A little crude, but well intentioned.
We awoke and arose about 8 and headed for the house. The husband, Joe, serves up pancakes for a few hours from the kitchen in the house. The house is off limits in the afternoons and evenings but open for breakfast.
We entered the front door to a cluttered living room with a small kitchen to the side where two electric griddles were churning out pancakes as a line of hikers stood waiting their share. The living room had a few couches against the walls where diners were inhaling pancakes while the TV news blared. We scored two pancakes on our paper plates, dabbed them with butter and sloshed on the syrup from Costco sized containers and retreated to the front driveway to eat. We chatted a bit, went for seconds and then walked the ten minutes to the quickie mart for a Pepsi and a respite from the crowd.
While seated at a table outside the store sipping our pops Tarzan came by, having eaten breakfast at the local restaurant across the street rather than brave the unsanitary conditions at Casa de Luna.
We laughed and talked for half an hour about the paradox of Casa de Luna and hoped our dinner and breakfast would not ill effect our health.
We walked back and headed into the forest to pack up. We stopped on the way out with our loaded packs to shower, as it was vacant. Four shower curtains held up by steel pipes above a fork lift pallet floor with a gas heater and hand held shower head in the middle of the back yard is hard to resist, so we each cleaned up before Toni arrived to drive us to Tehachapi.
Around the front of the house Terry Anderson wanted to be sure to get a picture of us, so she handed her camera to another hiker, then as he prepared to take our picture Terry turned her backside to us and dropped her pants, mooning us to elicit a smile or look of surprise. We asked to get a picture with her. As we posed with her inbetween Sally and I she squeezed Sally and my butts all during the picture taking process. Quirky.
Kind Toni arrived shortly and we were off in her Toyota for Tehachapi. The drive took about an hour and Sally and her had a nice conversation while I sat in the back seat. She immigrated to America when young and slowly learned English as she worked long hours to make ends meet. Now she is married and has a daughter, Emily, a 1st grader who we got to meet during our ride the night before. She dropped us off at the Tehachapi airport where we had heard we could camp in the airport park and spend days in a hanger. A phone call to the airport manager confirmed that we could stay in the Pilot's Lounge during the day, a house with kitchen, bath, recliners, TV and computers. All immaculately clean. Such luxury.
We met John at the house, a pilot and former engineer with Grumman aircraft that had just retire that day. He drove us around town to show us what was available and then we got to visit his hanger where the plane he built 30 years ago is kept. What a work of love and beauty! He flys it nearly everyday and it is spotlessly maintained. In talking we also found he worked on LEM 4, the lunar module that Armstrong commanded to the first landing on the moon. He had just finished rebuilding his 40 yr old son's Piper Cub and had flown it back to the east coast where his son lives. John was kind, soft spoken, modest and had a twinkle in his eyes that showed he had a zest for living and many projects in his future.
John dropped us off at the bakery in town where we indulged in an eclair for Sally and a granola bar like no other I have had for me.
We walked back to the Pilot's Lounge and relaxed the rest of the day before using Dial-a-Ride to get us to Walgreens to pick up Sally's prescriptions. We walked the mile and a half back.
We moved out of the lounge and to the picnic area near the end of the runway near dark to camp, but found the sprinklers on. We found an area out of their range, but realized when the sprinklers now operating finished their cycle the ones near us were likely to come on while we slept. I called the airport manager and he guided me to the control panel that allowed me to shut them down for the night.
The contrast between the fastidiousness of John's plane, hanger and the Pilot's Lounge and the clutter and crude humor of the Anderson's was as remarkable as the start and ending of the day, but the one constant across them both was the kindness, giving and caring they both showed. What a wonderful adventure we are blessed with.
The disheveled nature of their home fits well with the condition of PCT hikers who arrive daily covered in dirt from the trail accustomed to filthy living conditions. Many who hike the trail are young and in the process of defining and discovering who they are; experimenting with lifestyles, drugs, friends, sex and more. Often it is a lifestyle throwback to the hippies of the sixties, as are the Anderson's. A little crude, but well intentioned.
We awoke and arose about 8 and headed for the house. The husband, Joe, serves up pancakes for a few hours from the kitchen in the house. The house is off limits in the afternoons and evenings but open for breakfast.
We entered the front door to a cluttered living room with a small kitchen to the side where two electric griddles were churning out pancakes as a line of hikers stood waiting their share. The living room had a few couches against the walls where diners were inhaling pancakes while the TV news blared. We scored two pancakes on our paper plates, dabbed them with butter and sloshed on the syrup from Costco sized containers and retreated to the front driveway to eat. We chatted a bit, went for seconds and then walked the ten minutes to the quickie mart for a Pepsi and a respite from the crowd.
While seated at a table outside the store sipping our pops Tarzan came by, having eaten breakfast at the local restaurant across the street rather than brave the unsanitary conditions at Casa de Luna.
We laughed and talked for half an hour about the paradox of Casa de Luna and hoped our dinner and breakfast would not ill effect our health.
We walked back and headed into the forest to pack up. We stopped on the way out with our loaded packs to shower, as it was vacant. Four shower curtains held up by steel pipes above a fork lift pallet floor with a gas heater and hand held shower head in the middle of the back yard is hard to resist, so we each cleaned up before Toni arrived to drive us to Tehachapi.
Around the front of the house Terry Anderson wanted to be sure to get a picture of us, so she handed her camera to another hiker, then as he prepared to take our picture Terry turned her backside to us and dropped her pants, mooning us to elicit a smile or look of surprise. We asked to get a picture with her. As we posed with her inbetween Sally and I she squeezed Sally and my butts all during the picture taking process. Quirky.
Kind Toni arrived shortly and we were off in her Toyota for Tehachapi. The drive took about an hour and Sally and her had a nice conversation while I sat in the back seat. She immigrated to America when young and slowly learned English as she worked long hours to make ends meet. Now she is married and has a daughter, Emily, a 1st grader who we got to meet during our ride the night before. She dropped us off at the Tehachapi airport where we had heard we could camp in the airport park and spend days in a hanger. A phone call to the airport manager confirmed that we could stay in the Pilot's Lounge during the day, a house with kitchen, bath, recliners, TV and computers. All immaculately clean. Such luxury.
We met John at the house, a pilot and former engineer with Grumman aircraft that had just retire that day. He drove us around town to show us what was available and then we got to visit his hanger where the plane he built 30 years ago is kept. What a work of love and beauty! He flys it nearly everyday and it is spotlessly maintained. In talking we also found he worked on LEM 4, the lunar module that Armstrong commanded to the first landing on the moon. He had just finished rebuilding his 40 yr old son's Piper Cub and had flown it back to the east coast where his son lives. John was kind, soft spoken, modest and had a twinkle in his eyes that showed he had a zest for living and many projects in his future.
John dropped us off at the bakery in town where we indulged in an eclair for Sally and a granola bar like no other I have had for me.
We walked back to the Pilot's Lounge and relaxed the rest of the day before using Dial-a-Ride to get us to Walgreens to pick up Sally's prescriptions. We walked the mile and a half back.
We moved out of the lounge and to the picnic area near the end of the runway near dark to camp, but found the sprinklers on. We found an area out of their range, but realized when the sprinklers now operating finished their cycle the ones near us were likely to come on while we slept. I called the airport manager and he guided me to the control panel that allowed me to shut them down for the night.
The contrast between the fastidiousness of John's plane, hanger and the Pilot's Lounge and the clutter and crude humor of the Anderson's was as remarkable as the start and ending of the day, but the one constant across them both was the kindness, giving and caring they both showed. What a wonderful adventure we are blessed with.
Friday, May 30, 2014
Cell Service May Be Spotty - Friday, May 30
We are in Mojave, CA this afternoon and headed by bus and thumb to Kennedy Meadows at the southern end of the Sierra.
There is a good chance I will not have cell service for a week or better as we hike the PCT west of hwy 395 with the sierra crest between us and cell towers.
I will write everyday, but they probably will not be posted unless I get chance cell signal. So don't worry if you don't hear from us.
Chuck
There is a good chance I will not have cell service for a week or better as we hike the PCT west of hwy 395 with the sierra crest between us and cell towers.
I will write everyday, but they probably will not be posted unless I get chance cell signal. So don't worry if you don't hear from us.
Chuck
Decisions - Wednesday, May 28
How does one hike the desert in the company of a heat sensitive redhead? With temperatures predicted in the low 90s, little to no shade and glaring sun this can be a problem.
Possible solutions. Hike at night when the temps are in the low 70s to high 60s. Use a reflective umbrella to make artificial shade while walking. Carry a spray bottle to wet hair, face and body. Provide plenty of fluids. Hide out during the heat of the day in shady bushy areas or erect a shade tarp. These are the options available to lessen the effects of excessive heat on a heat sensitive body.
We applied them all today. After getting to bed at 1:00am we woke at 4:30am with only 3 and a half hours of sleep and quickly packed up and ate. We were hiking by 5:30. The desert was in full bloom, shrubs and flowers. It was magnificent. By 10:30 we had 6.5 miles under our belts, half this days distance, and were shadily ensconced in the Oasis Water Cache, eating first lunch in the shade of overhanging bushes. The Oasis Cache is maintained by the Anderson family. There were about 10 gallons of water, a plastic Frankenstein guarding the entrance, a cooler that had pop and beer, although it was all gone, and a dozen camp chairs. So far, the heat was not too bad, we made it to the water cache with plenty of water, and we had not needed to employ the spray bottle.
We ate lunch while plopped in camp chairs, enjoying the shade and the rest. Hot Legs showed up as we were munching. He is a paramedic in Texas. He got his name because he sun burned his legs so badly in the first few days and now keeps them covered making them hot. Before another 15 minutes passed 4 more hikers joined us at the cache including Johnny Cash and Risky Business (a dead ringer of a young Tom Cruise).
Now came the tough part of desert hiking. Do we just sit in the shade until late afternoon when it cools down and then hike? We had 7 miles left to go and if we waited until 5 we would not get out until after dark. We were hoping to get to Casa de Luna, the Anderson's trail angel retreat, two miles off the trail. We had heard they served dinner every night and we wanted to catch that experience. But if we left now we would be out in the heat of the day. What to do? Decision time. Fueled by a desire to cut the seven miles down to size we packed up and emerged from the shady water cache retreat and headed up the trail. The sun was punishing but a strong wind helped to lessen its effect. After 2 miles the heat was more than we were willing to take. Another mile up the trail the map showed a campsite so we set our sites on it. We kept our eye out for a shady alcove to hide in but saw none before the campsite.
The campsite was a bare patch of ground on a ridge amongst the chest high sage with no shade. We strung our tarp over the bare ground and placed our Tyvex ground tarp beneath and lay down to wait out the sun. We had doubled the tarp to increase its sun blocking ability, but truthfully, it acted more as a greenhouse than a shade maker. I unstuffed our down quilt and tied it atop the tarp. Now we had shade! Nothing like five layers of nylon and 4" of down to stop the sun.
We noticed that no one was on the trail as we hiked and no one passed us while we stayed under the tarp for three hours. We assumed they had all stayed at the shady water cache to wait out the heat.
At 4:30 we disassembled our shelter and started down the trail with 4 miles to go. During our break we had accidentally set Sally's pack on the mouthpiece of her water bladder and drained all the water into the ground. We now had one and a half liters for the two of us for the four miles, a little skimpy to say the least.
We made it to the trail head about 7:00 after being passed by about twelve hikers. We begged a half a liter of water from Day Glo as he passed.
We caught a ride from the first car to pass, a wonderful woman named Toni who drove us directly to the Anderson's. She stopped at the quickie store on the two mile ride to let us buy some sodas. I had refrained from the water to give Sally more while on the trail so I was thirsty. I downed a quart of Gatoraide, a quart of water and a quart of Diet Pepsi before we covered the two miles to the Anderson's.
We arrived to find 30 thru hikers sitting on couches, chairs and milling around the front lawn and driveway, all clapping in time at our arrival. We were given an orientation by a hiker that was injured and therefore helping the Anderson's for a few days. Dinner was being cooked on a gas kitchen stove outside next to the driveway in the dirt as we passed by, headed for the back yard. The back yard was a couple of acres of Manzanita forest with little paths and camping spots hollowed out among the trees. We found a spot and pitched our tent as we heard the call for dinner in ten minutes.
We returned to the street side of the house to find everyone dressed in Hawaiian shirts (required dress for dinner and supplied by the Andersons) lined up for dinner while Terry Anderson barked orders on decorum. Cigarette in one hand, a paddle in the other, she warned us that as we went around the table building our taco salad we were not to hold our plates over the next pot of ingredients lest we spill the previous ingredients into it. The paddle was proffered to swat us in the butt if our plate strayed too close.
On her signal the line started to move and immediately swats were applied. The tendency is to hold your plate close to the pots of beans, cheese, lettuce, hamburger, olives, onions, sour cream and such to avoid spilling food on the ground when ladeling it from pot to plate, but this action is forbidden to avoid mixing of ingredients and a swat on the butt quickly trains one to spill food rather than transfer it. It only took two swats for me to alter my shoveling technique.
The line moved quickly and soon the 50 some PCTers were happily munching on their heaped plates while seated on the couches and chairs in the driveway. Most returned for a second plate, yours included. Some whisperings about sanitary conditions of the food preparation and serving were heard along with concerns for stomach troubles in the days to come, but everyone ate heartily.
With bellies full we sat and talked with Reverend Blisster, M&M, Hot Legs, Bam Bam and others for a few minutes. The pot pipes were being passed around as the beer flowed so we retired to our tent back in the Manzanita forest to try to catch up on the 3 and a half hours of sleep and 24 miles from the night before.
The number and variety of trail angels is amazing. The Warner Springs community center was run by retiries raising money for their center. It was spotlessly clean and orderly. Ziggy and the Bear's was managed by octogenarians Ziggy and the Bear with lots of help from younger folk. They organized trips to town for supplies and had everyone in their small back yard. Saufley's was camping, showers and cots, clean and organized. Casa de Luna was remindful of a Hippi colony with little emphasis on cleanliness but fun loving and endless free food for dinner and breakfast. What they all share in common is kindness, caring and giving.
Tucked in the forest, comfy in our tent, snuggled beneath our down quilt with bellies full we were quickly asleep.
Our experience in the desert today convinced Sally that the upcoming 40 mile crossing of the Mojave was not for her. We decided to hitch hike to bypass the next 180 miles and work our way to Kennedy Meadows, the start of the Sierra Mountains and the end of desert hiking. While in Toni's car on the way to the Anderson's Sally mentioned our plans to Toni and she happily volunteered to drive us the hour to Tehachapi on the other side of the Mojave. From there we can take buses to 9 Mile Canyon Road and then hitch the final leg to Kennedy Meadows. She volunteered to return to the Anderson's at 11:30 tomorrow to pick us up for the ride.
Possible solutions. Hike at night when the temps are in the low 70s to high 60s. Use a reflective umbrella to make artificial shade while walking. Carry a spray bottle to wet hair, face and body. Provide plenty of fluids. Hide out during the heat of the day in shady bushy areas or erect a shade tarp. These are the options available to lessen the effects of excessive heat on a heat sensitive body.
We applied them all today. After getting to bed at 1:00am we woke at 4:30am with only 3 and a half hours of sleep and quickly packed up and ate. We were hiking by 5:30. The desert was in full bloom, shrubs and flowers. It was magnificent. By 10:30 we had 6.5 miles under our belts, half this days distance, and were shadily ensconced in the Oasis Water Cache, eating first lunch in the shade of overhanging bushes. The Oasis Cache is maintained by the Anderson family. There were about 10 gallons of water, a plastic Frankenstein guarding the entrance, a cooler that had pop and beer, although it was all gone, and a dozen camp chairs. So far, the heat was not too bad, we made it to the water cache with plenty of water, and we had not needed to employ the spray bottle.
We ate lunch while plopped in camp chairs, enjoying the shade and the rest. Hot Legs showed up as we were munching. He is a paramedic in Texas. He got his name because he sun burned his legs so badly in the first few days and now keeps them covered making them hot. Before another 15 minutes passed 4 more hikers joined us at the cache including Johnny Cash and Risky Business (a dead ringer of a young Tom Cruise).
Now came the tough part of desert hiking. Do we just sit in the shade until late afternoon when it cools down and then hike? We had 7 miles left to go and if we waited until 5 we would not get out until after dark. We were hoping to get to Casa de Luna, the Anderson's trail angel retreat, two miles off the trail. We had heard they served dinner every night and we wanted to catch that experience. But if we left now we would be out in the heat of the day. What to do? Decision time. Fueled by a desire to cut the seven miles down to size we packed up and emerged from the shady water cache retreat and headed up the trail. The sun was punishing but a strong wind helped to lessen its effect. After 2 miles the heat was more than we were willing to take. Another mile up the trail the map showed a campsite so we set our sites on it. We kept our eye out for a shady alcove to hide in but saw none before the campsite.
The campsite was a bare patch of ground on a ridge amongst the chest high sage with no shade. We strung our tarp over the bare ground and placed our Tyvex ground tarp beneath and lay down to wait out the sun. We had doubled the tarp to increase its sun blocking ability, but truthfully, it acted more as a greenhouse than a shade maker. I unstuffed our down quilt and tied it atop the tarp. Now we had shade! Nothing like five layers of nylon and 4" of down to stop the sun.
We noticed that no one was on the trail as we hiked and no one passed us while we stayed under the tarp for three hours. We assumed they had all stayed at the shady water cache to wait out the heat.
At 4:30 we disassembled our shelter and started down the trail with 4 miles to go. During our break we had accidentally set Sally's pack on the mouthpiece of her water bladder and drained all the water into the ground. We now had one and a half liters for the two of us for the four miles, a little skimpy to say the least.
We made it to the trail head about 7:00 after being passed by about twelve hikers. We begged a half a liter of water from Day Glo as he passed.
We caught a ride from the first car to pass, a wonderful woman named Toni who drove us directly to the Anderson's. She stopped at the quickie store on the two mile ride to let us buy some sodas. I had refrained from the water to give Sally more while on the trail so I was thirsty. I downed a quart of Gatoraide, a quart of water and a quart of Diet Pepsi before we covered the two miles to the Anderson's.
We arrived to find 30 thru hikers sitting on couches, chairs and milling around the front lawn and driveway, all clapping in time at our arrival. We were given an orientation by a hiker that was injured and therefore helping the Anderson's for a few days. Dinner was being cooked on a gas kitchen stove outside next to the driveway in the dirt as we passed by, headed for the back yard. The back yard was a couple of acres of Manzanita forest with little paths and camping spots hollowed out among the trees. We found a spot and pitched our tent as we heard the call for dinner in ten minutes.
We returned to the street side of the house to find everyone dressed in Hawaiian shirts (required dress for dinner and supplied by the Andersons) lined up for dinner while Terry Anderson barked orders on decorum. Cigarette in one hand, a paddle in the other, she warned us that as we went around the table building our taco salad we were not to hold our plates over the next pot of ingredients lest we spill the previous ingredients into it. The paddle was proffered to swat us in the butt if our plate strayed too close.
On her signal the line started to move and immediately swats were applied. The tendency is to hold your plate close to the pots of beans, cheese, lettuce, hamburger, olives, onions, sour cream and such to avoid spilling food on the ground when ladeling it from pot to plate, but this action is forbidden to avoid mixing of ingredients and a swat on the butt quickly trains one to spill food rather than transfer it. It only took two swats for me to alter my shoveling technique.
The line moved quickly and soon the 50 some PCTers were happily munching on their heaped plates while seated on the couches and chairs in the driveway. Most returned for a second plate, yours included. Some whisperings about sanitary conditions of the food preparation and serving were heard along with concerns for stomach troubles in the days to come, but everyone ate heartily.
With bellies full we sat and talked with Reverend Blisster, M&M, Hot Legs, Bam Bam and others for a few minutes. The pot pipes were being passed around as the beer flowed so we retired to our tent back in the Manzanita forest to try to catch up on the 3 and a half hours of sleep and 24 miles from the night before.
The number and variety of trail angels is amazing. The Warner Springs community center was run by retiries raising money for their center. It was spotlessly clean and orderly. Ziggy and the Bear's was managed by octogenarians Ziggy and the Bear with lots of help from younger folk. They organized trips to town for supplies and had everyone in their small back yard. Saufley's was camping, showers and cots, clean and organized. Casa de Luna was remindful of a Hippi colony with little emphasis on cleanliness but fun loving and endless free food for dinner and breakfast. What they all share in common is kindness, caring and giving.
Tucked in the forest, comfy in our tent, snuggled beneath our down quilt with bellies full we were quickly asleep.
Our experience in the desert today convinced Sally that the upcoming 40 mile crossing of the Mojave was not for her. We decided to hitch hike to bypass the next 180 miles and work our way to Kennedy Meadows, the start of the Sierra Mountains and the end of desert hiking. While in Toni's car on the way to the Anderson's Sally mentioned our plans to Toni and she happily volunteered to drive us the hour to Tehachapi on the other side of the Mojave. From there we can take buses to 9 Mile Canyon Road and then hitch the final leg to Kennedy Meadows. She volunteered to return to the Anderson's at 11:30 tomorrow to pick us up for the ride.
Thursday, May 29, 2014
Night Hike - Tuesday, May 27
We are surrounded by desert. Sage, chaparral, manzanita, horned lizards, tarantulas. Desert.
Hidden behind the walls of the Saufley's with their abundant water and wonderful shade trees it is not quite so omnipresent, but the temperature and hot sun are niggling reminders it is there.
We slept in this morning. Our tent was pitched just west of a garden shed which kept the sun off until nearly 9:30. The resulting coolness let us sleep until nearly 8 undisturbed. We noticed that nearly half of the 50 inhabitants had left in the early hours of the morning in their bid to make some milage up the trail before the sun baked them. We had plans to leave today, but not until the late afternoon when the temperatures had dropped out of the nineties and into the lower eighties. This meant we had a day to spend.
We packed our packs and vacated our tent site in case new arrivals needed it and joined some conversations up near the house.
Sally decided she would join the field trip to REI at 1:00 in search of a pair of sandals to wear at stream crossing and as auxiliary foot ware while in camp. She also did not want to spend another day in the desert heat so the call of an air conditioned van and air conditioned store was loud and clear. While she was gone I made a couple bike trips to town for pop and ice cream, visited and wrote for the blog.
Her trip was delayed a bit, returning at 5 instead of the projected 4. She brought me an In & Out Burger and Fries which I quickly devoured. She had asked the van driver if he would run us to the trailhead about three miles away. He agreed, then moved the departure time to just ten minutes and announced it to all with a megaphone. Luckily, we had all in readiness, but we still had to scramble to get into the van with all our gear. We did have time to get a picture with Donna Saufley, although I lost a gaiter in the shuffle.
He made a first stop in town to drop dinner goers at the local restaurants, then drove us out to the trail head, a dirt power line road just outside of town. The temperature was in the mid to upper eighties as we put our packs together and prepared to hike. It was 6:30.
The trail started up hill for about 1800' over the next 6 miles. About 2/3rds of the way darkness fell after a glorious sunset. Undeterred, we donned headlamps and continued on our way. We were soon passed by six kids we had spent time with at Saufley's, Tink, Bisquit, Digeredo 2, Moonshine and two others. They stopped at the top of the ridge to camp among the grasses anticipating a great mountain top sunrise. Sally and I continued down into Bouquet Canyon three miles below near a water cache reportedly with 30 gallons of water.
We arrived about 12:30 in the morning, had the tent up and were asleep by 1:00. We set an alarm to wake us at 4:30 so we could make more miles before the heat of the day pinned us in the shade. Our objective was another trail angel house, Casa de Luna, 24 miles past the Saufley's, owned and run by the Anderson Family.
Hidden behind the walls of the Saufley's with their abundant water and wonderful shade trees it is not quite so omnipresent, but the temperature and hot sun are niggling reminders it is there.
We slept in this morning. Our tent was pitched just west of a garden shed which kept the sun off until nearly 9:30. The resulting coolness let us sleep until nearly 8 undisturbed. We noticed that nearly half of the 50 inhabitants had left in the early hours of the morning in their bid to make some milage up the trail before the sun baked them. We had plans to leave today, but not until the late afternoon when the temperatures had dropped out of the nineties and into the lower eighties. This meant we had a day to spend.
We packed our packs and vacated our tent site in case new arrivals needed it and joined some conversations up near the house.
Sally decided she would join the field trip to REI at 1:00 in search of a pair of sandals to wear at stream crossing and as auxiliary foot ware while in camp. She also did not want to spend another day in the desert heat so the call of an air conditioned van and air conditioned store was loud and clear. While she was gone I made a couple bike trips to town for pop and ice cream, visited and wrote for the blog.
Her trip was delayed a bit, returning at 5 instead of the projected 4. She brought me an In & Out Burger and Fries which I quickly devoured. She had asked the van driver if he would run us to the trailhead about three miles away. He agreed, then moved the departure time to just ten minutes and announced it to all with a megaphone. Luckily, we had all in readiness, but we still had to scramble to get into the van with all our gear. We did have time to get a picture with Donna Saufley, although I lost a gaiter in the shuffle.
He made a first stop in town to drop dinner goers at the local restaurants, then drove us out to the trail head, a dirt power line road just outside of town. The temperature was in the mid to upper eighties as we put our packs together and prepared to hike. It was 6:30.
The trail started up hill for about 1800' over the next 6 miles. About 2/3rds of the way darkness fell after a glorious sunset. Undeterred, we donned headlamps and continued on our way. We were soon passed by six kids we had spent time with at Saufley's, Tink, Bisquit, Digeredo 2, Moonshine and two others. They stopped at the top of the ridge to camp among the grasses anticipating a great mountain top sunrise. Sally and I continued down into Bouquet Canyon three miles below near a water cache reportedly with 30 gallons of water.
We arrived about 12:30 in the morning, had the tent up and were asleep by 1:00. We set an alarm to wake us at 4:30 so we could make more miles before the heat of the day pinned us in the shade. Our objective was another trail angel house, Casa de Luna, 24 miles past the Saufley's, owned and run by the Anderson Family.
Tuesday, May 27, 2014
Unbridled Generosity - Monday, May 26
For those of you who have lost faith in the generosity and kindness of the human race please turn off the TV news and come walk the PCT. Everyday, without exception, someone has done an act of kindness toward us and we have tried to pass that act forward. Sometimes the acts are small (returning a liter of water I accidentally dropped 2 miles back on the trail), sometimes monumental (a ride to the hospital and letting us stay the night while I recovered) but always timely and wonderful. Acts that are called "Trail Magic".
Today we experienced such Magic in monstrous proportions.
Three weeks ago when I had finished hiking the Wrightwood to Agua Dulce section of the trail while Sally was healing her foot, she picked me up at "Hiker Heaven", the home of the Saufley's which they open for all comers for no charge. While talking to some of the people that volunteer to wash clothes, fix bikes and orient hikers to the shower, camping and cooking routines we mentioned that we would need to hitch hike from Wrightwood to the Saufley's in about three weeks so I did not have to hike the same section twice. Golly, an equestrian PCT rider volunteering to help at the Saufley's for the day said she would be happy to drive us the hour and a half drive and gave us her phone number to call when we reached Wrightwood. Well, this morning we reached Hwy 2 five miles outside Wrightwood and Golly was there to pick us up. We had called her four days earlier to cement plans and then yesterday to set the exact time and place of the pickup. We loaded in her van and were off. First stop was Mountain Hardware in Wrightwood to get our resupply boxes, a quick stop at the grocery for tortillas and cheese for the next leg of our hike and then the bakery for some yummies (no cherry turnovers) before we headed down the highway for Agua Dulce and the Saufley's.
We found out that Golly's husband is the head of all unmanned spacecraft for NASA at JPL in Pasadena. She offered a tour and a meeting whenever our schedule allowed. I texted Andy and Jeff about our chance encounter and suggested a trip to Pasadena sometime in the fall.
We arrived at the Saufley's sometime mid morning and found a patch of ground under a shade tree to set our tent for the night. We met some old trail acquaintances such as Ninja, Sierra, Jeff, Meg, Just in Time, Tink and others. We rummaged through the hiker boxes looking for treasures that we might need and would be willing to carry and signed up for a shower. There is only one shower and they house up to 50 each night, so at times the list for shower access can be long. Before our turn came around we decided to ride the loaner bikes into town and have pizza for dinner. Sally hitched a ride back to avoid an uphill pedal home on an ill fitting bike. I scored a chocolate chip mint cone before I pedaled back.
We got in the shower about 7:30, which was perfect. The high of 94° had dropped to the low 80s and a shower before bed was just the ticket.
When we emerged from the shower Donna Saufley was pulling everyone to the huge campfire circle to tell the story of how she started Trail Angeling back in 1997. With her husband telling his side they spent half an hour recounting the humorous beginning of what is now recognized as the best stop on the PCT.
In short, Donna was looking for a night out while Jeff was at a bachelor party. All her plans fell through so she settled for pizza alone in town. She saw some incredibly dirty, smelly people with backpacks trying to wash up in the bathroom sinks at the pizza parlor before eating. They approached her for ideas of where they could sleep for the night and she mentioned the hotel just seven miles down the road, which to a tired hiker might as well be on the moon. Eventually, she worked up the nerve to invite them to her guest house (which I am sitting in front of as I type this). She let them in and then went into her house and locked all the doors, fearful for her life should these miscreants of filth turn on her. Jeff came home quite drunk, surprised to find all the doors of the house locked and drunkenly decided to sleep in the guest house where the 5 PCT hikers were sleeping. A period of confusion and misdirection occurred before it all settled out. At that moment Donna decided her calling was to become a trail angel and she has been hosting all comers ever since. She described trolling for hikers and putting notes up on the trail inviting hikers in. Before the season was over the grapevine of the PCT had quickly passed the word from Mexico to Canada about this wonderful place to stay in the desert and it has been the place to stay ever since. They have hosted well over 10,000 hikers over the years. They don't just provide a piece of ground to pitch a tent on. They have 50 cots inside mosquito netted tents, private rooms in the guest house for married couples, do daily van rides to REI an hour away, do all hikers laundry for free, provide a campfire every night, open the guest house kitchen for all to cook at, have a piano and guitars available, a computer tent with five computers for use, TV and VCR with hundreds of title to choose from (today at breakfast someone put on The Princess Bride. A large crowd chose to eat breakfast while watching), showers, water, tables, chairs, bar-b-ques and more.
What brought tears to my eyes was when she thanked us for coming to her place! She said in the 17 years she has opened her home to us she has never had anything taken and has met the most wonderful people. There had been a few grumbling on Facebook from some trail angels that this year's hikers were acting entitled and unappreciative of all the support. She said nothing could be further from the truth. What an incredibly giving and wonderful woman!!
When we started almost two months ago I was surprised to meet quite a few hikers doing the PCT for the second or third time. At first I could not understand why anyone would want to endure so much pain, work and suffering more than once! Now I understand. The PCT is not just 2650 miles of trail. It is a community, a country all it's own where the inhabitants share a common vision and goal. The price of admission to this community is a willingness to walk and give. In return, you receive camaraderie, support, and happiness. Most are kids in their 20s, searching, experimenting and beginning to define who they are. But people of all ages are here. The boundaries of age disappear in the face of the common hardships and goals. Our "friends" from the group we started with are half our age but truly friends nonetheless, as are all we meet on the trail and those who provide support.
A huge shout out to the trail angels. Thank you.
Other events of note on this day.
Sally mailed her beloved chair home along with the boots that have caused her such anguish. We found she rarely used it, as she was too tired to sit in it most nights. When we watched carefully how many times she sat in it in a week. We found it was less than three times. Not worth carrying for that.
We met the youngest person to ever hike the Appalachian Trail. He did so last summer. He was five years old. He hiked the entire length al 2100 miles. This year he is hiking the PCT, at age 6. His parents hike with him, of course. Sally enjoyed playing with him and getting a photo with him.
Today we experienced such Magic in monstrous proportions.
Three weeks ago when I had finished hiking the Wrightwood to Agua Dulce section of the trail while Sally was healing her foot, she picked me up at "Hiker Heaven", the home of the Saufley's which they open for all comers for no charge. While talking to some of the people that volunteer to wash clothes, fix bikes and orient hikers to the shower, camping and cooking routines we mentioned that we would need to hitch hike from Wrightwood to the Saufley's in about three weeks so I did not have to hike the same section twice. Golly, an equestrian PCT rider volunteering to help at the Saufley's for the day said she would be happy to drive us the hour and a half drive and gave us her phone number to call when we reached Wrightwood. Well, this morning we reached Hwy 2 five miles outside Wrightwood and Golly was there to pick us up. We had called her four days earlier to cement plans and then yesterday to set the exact time and place of the pickup. We loaded in her van and were off. First stop was Mountain Hardware in Wrightwood to get our resupply boxes, a quick stop at the grocery for tortillas and cheese for the next leg of our hike and then the bakery for some yummies (no cherry turnovers) before we headed down the highway for Agua Dulce and the Saufley's.
We found out that Golly's husband is the head of all unmanned spacecraft for NASA at JPL in Pasadena. She offered a tour and a meeting whenever our schedule allowed. I texted Andy and Jeff about our chance encounter and suggested a trip to Pasadena sometime in the fall.
We arrived at the Saufley's sometime mid morning and found a patch of ground under a shade tree to set our tent for the night. We met some old trail acquaintances such as Ninja, Sierra, Jeff, Meg, Just in Time, Tink and others. We rummaged through the hiker boxes looking for treasures that we might need and would be willing to carry and signed up for a shower. There is only one shower and they house up to 50 each night, so at times the list for shower access can be long. Before our turn came around we decided to ride the loaner bikes into town and have pizza for dinner. Sally hitched a ride back to avoid an uphill pedal home on an ill fitting bike. I scored a chocolate chip mint cone before I pedaled back.
We got in the shower about 7:30, which was perfect. The high of 94° had dropped to the low 80s and a shower before bed was just the ticket.
When we emerged from the shower Donna Saufley was pulling everyone to the huge campfire circle to tell the story of how she started Trail Angeling back in 1997. With her husband telling his side they spent half an hour recounting the humorous beginning of what is now recognized as the best stop on the PCT.
In short, Donna was looking for a night out while Jeff was at a bachelor party. All her plans fell through so she settled for pizza alone in town. She saw some incredibly dirty, smelly people with backpacks trying to wash up in the bathroom sinks at the pizza parlor before eating. They approached her for ideas of where they could sleep for the night and she mentioned the hotel just seven miles down the road, which to a tired hiker might as well be on the moon. Eventually, she worked up the nerve to invite them to her guest house (which I am sitting in front of as I type this). She let them in and then went into her house and locked all the doors, fearful for her life should these miscreants of filth turn on her. Jeff came home quite drunk, surprised to find all the doors of the house locked and drunkenly decided to sleep in the guest house where the 5 PCT hikers were sleeping. A period of confusion and misdirection occurred before it all settled out. At that moment Donna decided her calling was to become a trail angel and she has been hosting all comers ever since. She described trolling for hikers and putting notes up on the trail inviting hikers in. Before the season was over the grapevine of the PCT had quickly passed the word from Mexico to Canada about this wonderful place to stay in the desert and it has been the place to stay ever since. They have hosted well over 10,000 hikers over the years. They don't just provide a piece of ground to pitch a tent on. They have 50 cots inside mosquito netted tents, private rooms in the guest house for married couples, do daily van rides to REI an hour away, do all hikers laundry for free, provide a campfire every night, open the guest house kitchen for all to cook at, have a piano and guitars available, a computer tent with five computers for use, TV and VCR with hundreds of title to choose from (today at breakfast someone put on The Princess Bride. A large crowd chose to eat breakfast while watching), showers, water, tables, chairs, bar-b-ques and more.
What brought tears to my eyes was when she thanked us for coming to her place! She said in the 17 years she has opened her home to us she has never had anything taken and has met the most wonderful people. There had been a few grumbling on Facebook from some trail angels that this year's hikers were acting entitled and unappreciative of all the support. She said nothing could be further from the truth. What an incredibly giving and wonderful woman!!
When we started almost two months ago I was surprised to meet quite a few hikers doing the PCT for the second or third time. At first I could not understand why anyone would want to endure so much pain, work and suffering more than once! Now I understand. The PCT is not just 2650 miles of trail. It is a community, a country all it's own where the inhabitants share a common vision and goal. The price of admission to this community is a willingness to walk and give. In return, you receive camaraderie, support, and happiness. Most are kids in their 20s, searching, experimenting and beginning to define who they are. But people of all ages are here. The boundaries of age disappear in the face of the common hardships and goals. Our "friends" from the group we started with are half our age but truly friends nonetheless, as are all we meet on the trail and those who provide support.
A huge shout out to the trail angels. Thank you.
Other events of note on this day.
Sally mailed her beloved chair home along with the boots that have caused her such anguish. We found she rarely used it, as she was too tired to sit in it most nights. When we watched carefully how many times she sat in it in a week. We found it was less than three times. Not worth carrying for that.
We met the youngest person to ever hike the Appalachian Trail. He did so last summer. He was five years old. He hiked the entire length al 2100 miles. This year he is hiking the PCT, at age 6. His parents hike with him, of course. Sally enjoyed playing with him and getting a photo with him.
Monday, May 26, 2014
Sleep - Sunday, May 25
The restorative power of sleep is mind blowing! We stagger into a campsite after 12 hours of hiking, dead tired, muscles aching, feet sore, overall body fatigue a 9 out of 10 where 10 is immobility. We cook a dinner while seated or laying, munch it down and crawl under the quilt; it is already dark. We might talk a bit, write on the blog or watch part of a movie on the iPad and the day is done. Each night I wonder, and worry, how we will feel in the morning. Often, I wake up during the night and revel at the stars, or enjoy the glow of the lights of Los Angeles far
below us before dropping back to sleep. So my sleep is not continuous, even though I am so fatigued when I fall asleep.
Yet, every morning we wake and marvel at the amount of soreness and pain that was erased during the night. Notice, I did not say that we wake perfectly refreshed and raring to go. Sometimes we do, but after a particularly hard day, such as yesterday, we feel renewed, but in degrees, not an absolute. The proof comes when we start on the trail. How much fatigue lingers from the day before? Within the first 100 yards we can tell if it was a full recovery night or partial.
Every few days, if the partial builds into something significant, a zero day is in order to reset the zero point-a calibration of sorts to redefine the baseline.
We found in the first few weeks of the trip we did not need zero days because we did not push ourselves to our limits.
Now that the trail requires longer milages be conquered each day to get to water we find the fatigue builds and a zero is necessary to reset. Such was the case from yesterday's labors.
We woke this morning just as the birds began to herald the new day but the sky was still quite dark. The memory of the two liters of water in the water cache back at the road haunted me as we only had 3.5 liters for two of us with 8.4 miles to go so I grabbed 4 empty bottles and headed back down the trail by headlamp to grab what water I could.
I found my memory served me well. There was 1 gallon jug with water among the 8 bottles lying around, and it was only half full. I filled two of my bottles and returned to camp to treat the water.
Sally was stirring by this time, so I cooked some oatmeal for her and downed a bowl of granola. We were on the trail a little after 6.
We both felt the result of our exertions from the day before, a reduction in vigor and energy. Still, we had 8 miles and another 3000' to climb to get to Guffy Springs, our source for water. We passed over a couple of roads on our way and saw a few old water caches, but all the jugs were empty. Still, we had enough water to make the distance so we did not dwell on the lack of additional water.
The terrain and scenery were breath taking. We were walking through mature stands of Douglas Fir and Jeffrey Pines, widely spaced with a fine thick duff carpet of pine needles. These trees provided something that is sorely missed when they are absent due to fire … shade. We were walking at about 7000' so the air temperature was comfortable, in the low to mid 70s even though the heat from the direct sun was hot where it peaked through the trees.
When we reached Guffy Campground we had finished off all our water, so I grabbed 7 one liter bottles and headed for the spring to fill them. The spring was a quarter mile away and down about 300 vertical feet. I did not realize how far it was when I started out and what a tiny dribble of water was coming out of the galvanized pipe sticking out of the ground so as the expected ten minute task approached an hour in length I began to worry Sally would be concerned for my safety.
When I finally returned to the campground with the water I found Sally sound asleep on her blue foam pad, oblivious to my status of "missing in action".
We ate lunch with three army recruiters out for a weekend of hiking away from the city, their kids and wives. Loaded down with water we hiked an additional three miles to Blue Ridge campground for the night.
As we sat on our picnic table a 27 year old named Zack from the adjacent campsite came over and asked if we were thru hiking. When we said yes he immediately replied, "Anything we have is yours. What can we do for you?" We spent the rest of the evening with Zack and Liz enjoying raspberry s'mores, banana boats, peach cobbler, hot dogs, corn on the cob, asparagus, baked beans and beer with shots of tequila. I drank water.
We had to excuse ourselves about 9:15 to get to sleep for the next day. We thanked Zack and Liz for their generosity and went to our tent for the night counting on sleeps restorative power to prepare us for another day.
below us before dropping back to sleep. So my sleep is not continuous, even though I am so fatigued when I fall asleep.
Yet, every morning we wake and marvel at the amount of soreness and pain that was erased during the night. Notice, I did not say that we wake perfectly refreshed and raring to go. Sometimes we do, but after a particularly hard day, such as yesterday, we feel renewed, but in degrees, not an absolute. The proof comes when we start on the trail. How much fatigue lingers from the day before? Within the first 100 yards we can tell if it was a full recovery night or partial.
Every few days, if the partial builds into something significant, a zero day is in order to reset the zero point-a calibration of sorts to redefine the baseline.
We found in the first few weeks of the trip we did not need zero days because we did not push ourselves to our limits.
Now that the trail requires longer milages be conquered each day to get to water we find the fatigue builds and a zero is necessary to reset. Such was the case from yesterday's labors.
We woke this morning just as the birds began to herald the new day but the sky was still quite dark. The memory of the two liters of water in the water cache back at the road haunted me as we only had 3.5 liters for two of us with 8.4 miles to go so I grabbed 4 empty bottles and headed back down the trail by headlamp to grab what water I could.
I found my memory served me well. There was 1 gallon jug with water among the 8 bottles lying around, and it was only half full. I filled two of my bottles and returned to camp to treat the water.
Sally was stirring by this time, so I cooked some oatmeal for her and downed a bowl of granola. We were on the trail a little after 6.
We both felt the result of our exertions from the day before, a reduction in vigor and energy. Still, we had 8 miles and another 3000' to climb to get to Guffy Springs, our source for water. We passed over a couple of roads on our way and saw a few old water caches, but all the jugs were empty. Still, we had enough water to make the distance so we did not dwell on the lack of additional water.
The terrain and scenery were breath taking. We were walking through mature stands of Douglas Fir and Jeffrey Pines, widely spaced with a fine thick duff carpet of pine needles. These trees provided something that is sorely missed when they are absent due to fire … shade. We were walking at about 7000' so the air temperature was comfortable, in the low to mid 70s even though the heat from the direct sun was hot where it peaked through the trees.
When we reached Guffy Campground we had finished off all our water, so I grabbed 7 one liter bottles and headed for the spring to fill them. The spring was a quarter mile away and down about 300 vertical feet. I did not realize how far it was when I started out and what a tiny dribble of water was coming out of the galvanized pipe sticking out of the ground so as the expected ten minute task approached an hour in length I began to worry Sally would be concerned for my safety.
When I finally returned to the campground with the water I found Sally sound asleep on her blue foam pad, oblivious to my status of "missing in action".
We ate lunch with three army recruiters out for a weekend of hiking away from the city, their kids and wives. Loaded down with water we hiked an additional three miles to Blue Ridge campground for the night.
As we sat on our picnic table a 27 year old named Zack from the adjacent campsite came over and asked if we were thru hiking. When we said yes he immediately replied, "Anything we have is yours. What can we do for you?" We spent the rest of the evening with Zack and Liz enjoying raspberry s'mores, banana boats, peach cobbler, hot dogs, corn on the cob, asparagus, baked beans and beer with shots of tequila. I drank water.
We had to excuse ourselves about 9:15 to get to sleep for the next day. We thanked Zack and Liz for their generosity and went to our tent for the night counting on sleeps restorative power to prepare us for another day.
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