Hikertown to Kennedy Meadows

We night hiked 19 miles out of Hiker Town through the Mojave along the aqueduct. We had joined a sacred brotherhood known as the Aquaducks. However, after following our true and noble leader's footprints for ten miles, we were shocked to be in His presence sooner than expected. As our headlamps cast a halo of light around His head, Scoutmaster sleepily rose from His mummy bag proclaiming that he was aquafucked. "Turns out that I was far drunker than I thought." We pressed on to the water cache without His guidance, so we too would not be aquafucked.
We woke from our slumber in a wind farm after having hiked until 2:30am the previous night. By 7am, it was already blazing hot. We hiked the morning through a windless wind farm. Of all times when we needed a cool breeze, a place with the soul purpose of harvesting wind energy couldn't offer us any relief from the heat. Ryan, Drama Queen, and Rainmaker made it to Tylerhorse Canyon for a siesta under the single crowded shade tree that the canyon stream had available. Meanwhile, Lindsay was pulling a typical Lindsay. She somehow managed to hike off a well marked trail in the Mojave of all places. She arrived at Tylerhorse Canyon slightly less than an hour later.
We spent nearly 5 hours under that tree before hiking another 7 miles to the next water cache and camp sites.
Lindsay woke up greeted by diarrhea (cha cha cha) and vomiting later joined the party. The theory is that she inhaled cow doo doo from Tylerhorse Canyon the day before as it was everywhere. Her illness made for a long day's hike for what should have been a quick 10 miles to Willow Springs Road into Tehachapi. Having to work a whopping 20 minutes for a hitch when we were normally picked up without even thumbing seemed like an eternity on the streaming asphalt in the heat of the day. 5 of us hikers were generously picked up by two septic tank cleaners in a tool-filled pickup truck. Luckily for their job hazard, they couldn't smell our hiker stench. We couldn't smell them either. All was well...until we found out Lindsay lost a shoe. The men who picked us up had driven off with one of her brand new kicks.
We split a room with Drama, Rainmaker, and Simba at the Best Western Mountain Inn where we chilled in the pool and jacuzzi and hung out in our underwear watching tv. We ended up zeroing an extra day than we had intended but it was a nice break from hiking. Rainmaker arranged a ride back to the trail for the next morning with a Trail Angel.
We ate a quick breakfast and left for the trail at 6:30am.
We slackpacked the wind farm between Willow Springs Road and Highway 58. Before we climbed up the mountain away from the highway, we came across a bridge and decided to siesta in the complete shade. Even with cars zooming overhead and shaking the world around us, we had made a good decision to stay because there was no shade for miles up the mountain other than the sparse Joshua Tree.
Essentially, this section sucked. The desert was hot and sandy. That's most of what you need to know. The second day out of Tehachapi, we hiked through the sand mountains in the evening as brilliant orange sun cast light off of the rock hills and clouds. Ryan jammed up those hills listening to some Taylor Swift. Lindsay found a beautiful rock that overlooked the valley below and stopped to cook dinner while watching the sunset. Just as the sun went down, the rest of us arrived at a picnic table and decided to stop for dinner before pushing on. Unfortunately, Drama was ahead and didn't know we were stopping. Ryan threw off his pack and went for a run after him. Little did he know, Drama Queen was feeling super motivated and had made it .7 miles before Ryan had caught him. That means Ryan added on 1.4 miles to his distance traveled that day. The next 5 miles were rough. It was uphill through mounds of sand. We climbed and climbed, feet slipping back downhill in the sand with every step, trying to catch up to Drama. Finally, off in the distant mountains, we caught a glimpse of a waving headlamp. He had stopped to wait. After finally catching him, we watched the stars, chatted, and tried to find the motivation to look for camp. We slept long and hard.
The next day was hot! We ate, we hiked, we ate, we tried to sleep in the 90+ degree shade, and we hiked. When darkness and relief finally came, we speed hiked down the mountain to Walker Pass where we were delighted to find trail magic from the Famous Yogi, PCT thru-hiker and author of the official PCT guidebooks. She welcomed us in with open arms at 10:45pm. She offered us fresh fruit, cold drinks, snacks, and deli sandwiches! We graciously accepted them all! The next morning, we woke to pancakes and were picked up by one of Rainmaker's family friends, who drove us into Lake Isabella for the day to resupply, eat pizza, and swim in the lake. While civilized people fished and swam in bathing suits, we stripped to our scivies and bathed in the cool water. We may have looked like homeless vagrants (we probably could be classified that way) doing our laundry in lake water, we were happy as could be. We hiked out from Walker Pass 7 miles that night to the top of the mountain.
We hiked out early from camp without the other three in our group to get a head start on the day. About 7 miles into our day, we hit a monumental mark. We had completed one fourth of the trail! Only three more of those to go! I stopped to build a monument for the occasion when Drama caught up to us. He informed us that Rainmaker wasn't feeling well and Simba had stayed behind with her. He had this wild idea to attempt our first Dirty Thirty (30 miles in one day). His plan sounded reasonable after discussing the benefits of being able to swim in the Kern River during the heat of the following day and getting to Kennedy Meadows early enough for a full zero. So we hiked. Midday, upon nearing a spring, Lindsay spotted a baby bear. She suggested we stay together for the time being. Seconds after arriving at the spring, the little bear strolls toward us southbound on the trail. He was super cute but super persistent. He aggressively tried to scare us away from our packs and our food. It tried steal our food from above, below, and from side to side. It even bluff pounced within 10 feet of us. Sadly, that little guy will likely have to be relocated. It was one of the coolest experiences that we've had thus far. Surprisingly, the dirty thirty went really well. We felt great despite the mountainous terrain. Lindsay even beat the boys to the top of the mountain by a significant margin, a rarity in her life.
We "slept in" until 7:30am and woke with a laugh because Drama, too lazy after the dirty thirty to lay out his tyvek, emerged from his sleeping bag covered in dirt and ash. He hiked 10 miles to the Kern River and spent a long siesta sunbathing and enjoying the river; however, Kennedy Meadows was calling, so we pushed on. Then we got side track by some other hikers and swam again. But eventually we made it to town.
P.s. at some point during this section, Ryan and Drama were chased by cows.

*Lindsay will post pictures when her phone is fixed. Check back later.

Sweet Water and Fire

Evening of 5/28: We enter the well guarded gates of Hiker Heaven (aka Jeff and Donna Saufley's place) in Agua Dulce (aka Sweet Water) after passing through Vasquez Rocks. The formations were the backdrop to many movie and TV scenes, including Star Trek and Bonanza. Anyway, once the sniff test by Chief, Daisy, Nelly, Mikey and Lil Chi deems us to be no more interesting than the rest of the "hiker trash," we receive orientation about the conveniences offered here: laundry services with loaner clothes, shower, wifi, laptop station, porta-johns, loaner bikes, postal services, rides to REI, grocery store and doctor's offices, trailer with full kitchen and living room supplied with books, movies, games and musical instruments. It's an efficient operation! Now, like the dogs, we can get groomed, fill our bellies and relax..maybe even get a little rowdy around the bonfire.
5/29: this zero day calls for some separation of siblings. Pain has caused the cry "my arches are falling, my arches are falling" from Linz. She's tired, cranky...so what's a brother to do but push her buttons for amusement. We move from cots to the RV, where she holds up by herself for the day crying, reading "Eat, Pray, Love" and eating ice cream. It was glorious and much needed. Ryan plays piano and watches movies. All better. A community dinner of fruit, powdered sugar, and syrup covered French toast helps. Beer, more ice cream and Forrest Gump help too.
5/30: 6am becomes 6pm. It's hot. We're lazy. Just before beginning the 24 mile trek to Casa De Luna, Mrs. Anderson calls to warn of the Powerhouse Fire in Green Valley. We could see the smoke plume from the yard of the Saufley's but decided to hike out after consulting a "higher power" (Ron). He was sure the trail was far enough from the fire and that we would be safe.
He was only half right. The first day of the hike, the smoke cloud rained down ash on us, which somehow made its way into Ryan's water bladder. Unable to gag it down, he ended up slightly dehydrated until we were able to find sanctuary for the night at the first water cache. Despite hearing stories about a cougar in the area stalking hikers, we slept safely at the cache with Soup Nazi and Dumpster Baby.
In the morning, we hiked to the Oasis Water Cache with is usually diligently stocked by the Anderson's with water and beer. Unfortunately, the fire kept them from making it back up the the cache. No beer for us. As we made our way into town, we walked closer and closer to the fire. We could see the smoke plume ever increasing as helicopters, small planes, and even converted commercial jets dumped flame retardant on the wildfire. We stopped at the local market to pick up beer, Doritos, and ice cream before heading to Casa De Luna. Turns out, they had a slow clap and beers waiting for us upon arrival. We were greeted by approximately 25 other thru-hikers in thrift shop Hawaiian shirts. Suffice it to say, while the Saufley's was a great place to rest up, being "Luna"tics together is a lot more entertaining. We explored the magic manzanita forest, drank booze, danced, body painted, and did acro-yoga (amazing, totally bring this practice back to Ohio) with Kenobi, Bandleader, and Drop Bizcuit. As she does every night and every morning, Terrie Anderson made us her famous taco salad for dinner and pancakes for breakfast.
The fire closed 40 miles of the PCT including the aqueduct alternate as it consumed over 30,000 acres and rained ash. We and the rest of the hikers were forced to evacuate to the next trail angels house, Hikertown. Thank you, Terrie and Joe Anderson for your hospitality to Lunatics and for arranging shuttles to the trail beyond the danger zone.
After two previous stays at Angels' houses, we were anxious to get back on the trail. We only stayed at Hikertown long enough to cook dinner and take several silly photographs of the makeshift western movie set, allegedly, once used for low budget pornos. That place gave us the heebie jeebies. We hiked out in the evening with Drop Bizcuit, Bandleader, Drama, and Rainmaker into the Mojave.

Caught between a rattlesnake and a poodle dog

The fire-scarred hills of Southern California lay home to a vicious creature whose sole purpose is to attack trail hikers and threaten their mental stability. A solo member of the species, although seemingly unharmful, is capable of causing extreme pain and discomfort. The potential damage that a single member is capable of inflicting is only exacerbated by the fact that these beasts hunt in packs, large packs. They crowd the trail seeking sweet human blood, remaining motionless, patiently waiting for a body to step close enough. With their long limbs, they reach, swipe, and slash, poisoning upon contact. It's a slow poison, but an unforgiving one nonetheless, causing insufferable rashes and blisters. The beastly creature is known as a Poodle Dog.
"We are either the craziest mother fuckers or the dumbest mother fuckers for taking on poodle dog bush in the dark," I yelled to Simba, Rainmaker, and Drama Queen at the top of my lungs amidst other sleeping hikers upon walking into camp. Poodle dog bush is hard enough to navigate in the light let alone pitch darkness. Step around. It's height ranges anywhere from ankle high to over head. Stop. One foot. Next foot. Side step through. It's breadth can be anywhere from a single stemmed growth to a huge bushy and reaching bush. Arms overhead. Be skinny as a pencil. The plant's fine, toxic hairs are just as transferable through contact with clothes or hiking poles as they are by touching the leaves. Climb on a rock. Shit! Foot slipped! Sliding down hill. POODLE!!! Give me the water! Give me the water! Traversing a poodle infested trail is a slow process, especially in the areas they label "impassable." Keep your head down and scan the ground. Dark hazy shadow appears out of nowhere. SHIT! Head dodge! Phew. Almost took poodle dog to the face. And don't forget, watch out for the poodle dog in the brush.
The trail from Wrightwood to Agua Dulce was mostly a cluster of poodle dog. Luckily, two detours saved us from what the mapped called a poodle dog bath. After two days of sidestepping the demon babies of forest fires, the trail provided us with a splash of magic. We made it to camp just as the sun was setting behind the distant mountains. The skies were painted the most beautiful orange and pink. It was a good night. We had escaped the vicious poodle dog without a single rash or blister and entered the gates of Hiker Heaven the evening of May 28th.