A Walk in the Park

We have been spoiled brats this week and have LOVED every second of it. May 17th we hiked into Big Bear Lake,  passing trail magic that we didn't even need to lift our already high spirits...a couch and cooler filled with carrots, bananas, oranges, fig newtons,  and Shasta tropical punch! Did I say a couch?! Couch on a mountain! We saw two hikers on the trail who offered us a ride into town, so we didn't even have to take the time to hitch. Then as we were waiting on the two day hikers to make it down the mountain, a man on a motorcycle stopped to talk to us about our adventure. Tim said he wanted to live vicariously through us and, although we tried to turn him down, he generously gave us $20 to "party it up in Big Bear. " Tim, if you ever read this, these shots go out to you. THANK YOU.

While in Big Bear Lake, we stayed at a hostel. It was a great place to not walk with other hikers. We stayed in a room with Bryce and Hannah and hung out and had dinner with the large group we had been leapfrogging with on the trail. For dinner, we went to a local Mexican restaurant where Ryan did the local Grande Burrito Challenge. The massive burrito was 18 inches long (about the size of two Chipotle burritos). He ate it all! Unfortunately, it is not an official challenge with a reward offered by the restaurant, but just a challenge many hikers attempt. Because the restaurant didn't offer a free beer for finishing, Patrick and Bryce both bought him a beer. As if the burrito didn't make him want to explode, the two beers pushed him over the edge. He was glued to the couch the rest of the night, belly distended.
On our zero day in Big Bear, we cooked free pancakes at the hostel, went bar hopping, stole cold abandoned fries from a nearby table, watched The Great Gatsby, and ate Saucy Mamma's Pizza for dinner.
The following morning, we slackpacked, which means that we left our gear in town and only carried water and the days worth of food, for 12 miles before Kristi's dad dropped our packs off and stole her away from us for the rest of the trip. Sad face. We cried terribly and then hiked another 12 miles. Kristi left, so someone had to replace her hiker legs. Lindsay took the job as she was running away from her sadness. That girl became the energizer bunny.
However, Kristi must have been our bad omen because the next three days only got better. May 20th, the day after Kristi left, we hiked about 10 miles to a waterfall and swimming hole where we could jump off of rocks into the icy cold water to escape the day's heat. We met John, a section hiker, and Kelso, a fellow thru-hiker, who we would hike with for the next couple days. John was a great conversationalist who kept our brains occupied with interesting stories of his adventures and what was to come in the Sierras. He even plans to meet us on the John Muir Trail to hike with us this June. Side note: whereas most hikers wake up with first light and walk, Kelso prefers to sleep until 10am and run down mountains with a forty pound pack in his underwear. Picture that. Kelso also lives up to his trail name; he is sponsored by a local dispensary to talk up the thousand dollars of free weed he got. This is obvious in the fact that he hiked back three miles to search for his "lost" iPod that was strapped to his shoulder strap the entire time. Anyway, we hiked with John another 9 miles to Deep Creek Hot Springs. The hot springs were a great reward for our overworked muscles and provided plenty of eye candy as the springs attract the nudist community. The next morning, we woke up and had a morning soak in the steaming water. We flew through the first eight miles with John and Amigo until we came across a van parked at a road crossing. We were greeted by Marlene's gorgeous smile and outstretched arms, which just happened to be filled with orange and root beer floats! The only thing that unglued us from her lawn chairs was John's promise that he would have his buddy meet us at Silverwood Lake with pizza and beer. Word spreads fast on the trail. John's trail magic lit a fire in not only us but also in Pan, Soup Nazi, Cherub, Nolene, Two Hats, Band Leader, Drop Bizkuit, Rainmaker, Larry, Amigo, and Kelso. Our camp site for the night was jam packed with smelly, full-bellied hikers. The next day we felt like we were cheating doing just 13 miles to the McDonalds. We have never been happier to participate in corporate America because of you can't beat 'em, join 'em. Kelso's Aunt, girlfriend, and John shuttled our group of hikers to his house in San Berardino for a cookout, showers, and laundry. Fresh green food...num nums! We drank and played Mario Cart!
The next morning, we left Kelso's with Simba, Drama Queen, and Maton. 2 miles in, we came across a rock museum that was the artists', Drop Bizkuit, Rainmaker, and Band Leader, depiction of natural human sexual expression. For instance, a pile of rocks was labeled "orgy" and a rock in front of a piece of glass was labeled "sex in mirror." We crossed the San Andreas Fault Line. The rock formations were interesting. The rest of the hike was completely uphill. We ran into two candy shop ladies who gave us handfuls of caramels. Halfway up the mountain, we were forced to take a road detour to avoid impassable poodle dog bush. On the road, we crossed paths with Dip and Rebecca, who created and maintain the Your Never Gonna Make It Secret Water Cache. They gave us hope that there was an end to the steep climb. We spent some time at the water cache sitting in comfy camp chairs before moonlight hiking to Mt Baldy Trail Spur to camp for the night. We hiked 9 more miles to the highway crossing into Wrightwood, where we were picked up by Arnie, a local forest service volunteer. We picked up our resupply and stayed at a Methodist Church Camp that offered free showers and bunk beds to PCT hikers. We ate a huge home style meal and crashed for the night.
We decided to slackpack the next 20 miles up Mt Baden-Powell. After 4 miles and 40 switchbacks, Lindsay did not want climb 1/10 of a mile more off trail to the summit where the view wouldn't be any better. Simba said that not summiting would be an atrocity. He physically stripped her of her pack and forced her the rest of the way up the mountain. She still insists it was not worth it. Ryan reluctantly agrees, saying that the view from Mt San Jacinto was much better. At the end of the day, we hitched 25 miles back into Wrightwood to get our gear, shower, and spend one more night in the Methodist Church Camp. Only 3 more days until Aqua Dulce!
- Ry and Lindsay.

Hiker Hunger

Remember that rock hard ass-of-a-goddess I referred to in a previous post? Yeah, this is some of the many reasons why that will never happen...

Lions, tigers, and bears! Oh my!...and don't forget about the snakes!

We have met our fair share of reptilian wildlife on this trip and I'm sure there are more to come. Every few feet there is a lizard that scurries away from your marching feet. And every so often, we walk around a corner or past a bush and jump sky high at the sound of a rattle snake. As I am out front a good amount of the time, I have had a few moments where I'm sure I shrieked like a girl, cursed a little, and jumped awkwardly off of the trail when at the last minute I hear a snake just beside my feet. And let me tell you, while some of these snakes just slither across the trail and go about their business, others are not at all happy to see you...and they make it known when they're coiled and ready to strike.

We also saw our first bear, lion, and tiger. Grant it, they were film animals locked in cages that the trail passed right by.

-Ry

Hell week

We descended Mount San Jacinto in 108 degree heat after running out of water with 2.5 miles to our next source. After already drinking 5 liters before noon, we were sharing liquid from an orange to stay hydrated. When we finally made it to the bottom, we were let down that the map's "water spigot" was actually a water fountain that shot straight into the air and blew everywhere except into our bottles. We sought shade in the waning shade of a tiny boulder to eat lunch. After lunch we had the promise of flat ground. We soon found out the while we weren't summitting a mountain, we would be hiking up to our knees in a kitty litter box of sand during high sun. When we reached a sanctuary of shade beneath a highway underpass, we opened a cooler that a trail angel had left only to find that the last cold beverage had been taken 5 minutes before by a doctor that prescribes pie for extreme diharea. Luckily, we only had a little over a mile to Ziggy and the Bear's hiker house where Epsom salt foot baths and ice cream awaited! There we relaxed and caught up with fellow hikers. It was a great end to a not so great day.

The next day, the heat greeted us again leaving us feeling nauseous from dehydration. Ryan actually peed brown! It burned! Although we had been drinking enough water, our electrolytes were low. Emergen-C saved us. Midday, we came across a true oasis at Whitewater creek. We took a three and a half hour siesta in the cool flowing water. Absolutely amazing!
We rolled out of our sleeping bags the next morning and were hopeful for a cool breezy day. The weather seemed to cooperate as we followed Mission Creek upstream for most of the day. And then...we came across poodle dog bush! Poodle dog bush is the worse obstacle a hiker can encounter. Having a similar but worse reaction to poison ivy and poison oak, we had to strategically maneuver through the miles. Lindsay cried. Ryan's spirit was broken or the first time. We all felt utterly defeated. It took us eight and a half hours to hike eleven miles. In thru-hiking terms, that is absolutely ridiculous. It turn out, we weren't alone in our misery. Most others that we hiked with that day, including Larry, Captain Kristy, and Tortuga, also experienced the psychological hardship. Larry said his ego was broken. Later we found out that most of the overgrown poodle dog bush that we had to sidestep was actually a similar looking, non-poisonous desert plant. Talk about a slap to the face.

After taking a three hour nap, we made up for lost time by night hiking in the cool, brisk air. It reminded us of walking at home. We even saw the most beautiful sunset. Things began to look up from there!

PCT, get your $h!t together!

Mile 200 was a long frickin' mile! There were 4 different, distantly separated mile markers each telling us that we had finally reached this monumental milestone (literally). Spirits were high at the first marker as we high-fived and shared in the excitement. We were a little less excited at the second marker but still enthusiastic. Confusion set in at the third marker even though it looked more official. When we got to the fourth marker, all we could say was, "alright PCT, get your shit together!" Turns out that the second was the closest according the our GPS and maps. Only later would we find out that Amigo, a fellow hiker, was just fucking around with the rest of the hikers behind him.

Observations from Lindsay

Two hikers I spoke with told me they find joy in every step and that their blisters simply remind them of how lucky they are to be out here.
Now I enjoy the challenge of pushing my body and mind and the rewarding feeling I have at the end of a long day, but I'm calling bullshit. First off, my feet hurt so much deeper than the 7 or 8 blisters that cover them. This comes from a girl who has walked on fire. My tendons, muscles, fascia, and bones ache in a way I didn't know was possible. I sometimes wonder if I would have an orgasm or punch someone in the face if they touched my tender soles.
Don't get me wrong, I am happy I set out on this journey. But I will never be one of those hikers. Like Pan (formerly Chico Bill) says, "this is hard. This is really, really hard." On a bad day, I literally have to count my steps to continue on. Every 200 steps I allow myself a sip of water. On an OK day, my reward is a snack bar if I can go just 5 more miles. And on an excellent day, I'm only focused on the goal of the next town. 80 miles is equivalent to a shower and the possibility of laundry. I hardly ever think of Canada anymore.
Then there's the times my body feels great and my brain won't stop reeling. It has so much time to think and all of those thoughts, feelings, questions, and streamings of pop culture can be exhausting. I catch myself wishing for the pain to come back so all I have to focus on is meditating on one part of my body. Then, it actually does come back and I realize what an absolutely stupid wish I made.
Some hikers, like our new friend Captain Kristy, meander through the miles with a nonchalant attitude that amazes me. "Canada's not going anywhere" is a common phrase used on the trail. Canada might not be moving it's border anytime soon, but the snow monster will be eating us alive if we don't get our butts in gear.
Amigo, another thru-hiker, told me you never quit the trail in a town or until you have 3 consecutive bad days. I said my rule is to never quit and he asked "what's the point of being out here if we're not having fun?" Well good sir, I might not know what the point is just yet but I would cry myself to sleep every night before sucking up my pride and going home.
These encounters make me realize I should probably work on my all or nothing attitude and maybe learn to unwind a bit more. Although, they say if you can see one beautiful thing a day through the difficulty and fatigue, it's worth it. That hasn't been a problem, so I suppose I must be doing something right.

San Jacinto summit

The view was worth the extra 2.5 miles for Kristi, Lindsay and Ryan. They took the official alternate PCT route to summit San Jacinto Peak at 10834 ft.

We got a late start out of Idyllwild and had to climb Devil's Slide in the afternoon heat. An absolutely amazing Mother's Day breakfast at The Red Kettle made hiking up the hill from Hell well worth the wait. We decided to only hike a couple miles past Devil's Slide for the night so that we could sunrise summit Mt San Jacinto. The views on the way up and the view from the top were some of the best that we have seen the entire trip!