Crawling up the Mountain

After a couple of refreshing zero days at Mataguay Scout Ranch we continued our hike north. The first day Mother Nature decided to pour a considerable amount of rain on us all morning and then for an hour or so of the afternoon.  Heavy rains in areas that alternate between high desert and oak forest can be quiet interesting.  It helps keep the massive amount of dust, which normally fills the air, down; however it also produces flooding.  It makes many sections of the trail look like rivers of poorly mixed Ovaltine.  Luckily, the rain wasn't too intense, just unremitting and persistent.  This sort of rain also seems to bring out the best in the high desert’s spring time as well—manzanita shrubs budding with pink flowers, mountain lilacs heavily sprinkled with little purple bouquets, buckwheat with full white tops, little violet trumpets low to the ground, and even the stripping of the heartier manzanitas of their bark.  It all takes on  such a more illustrious.  None of this means that the best views were at or below eye level.  This little section also seemed to enjoy keeping up at or just above the cloud level; every hill top, every knoll, and every knob seemed to be wearing a little grey coat.

When the rain did finally relent in this section we found ourselves walking through some areas similar to the Pioneer Mail section, where everyone’s favorite friend erosion, seemed to be at work turning Volkswagen Bug sized boulders into all sorts of hues of red.  The end of this first day turned out to be something of a mixed bag.  I had been talking off and on about Mike Herrera, and his renowned hiker hospitality, and then upon our arrival at

Chihuahua Valley Road

we learned that Mike wasn’t home.  At the very least though, we met up with some old faces—Seth, Twist, Frank, Kevin, and a new guy (whose name has been eluding us) who seemed found of tights, an orange puffy jacket, and an old Forest Service winter cap.  We’ve hardly spoken with these individuals, perhaps three or four brief conversations a piece, at most.  Yet thus far these folks are our neighbors, and each and every time we bump into them, smiles arise as quickly as if we had known them for years.  In addition to seeing familiar faces, we were also fortunate enough to find some shelter at Mike’s house in the form of an abandoned trailer on a hill, and thank the heavens.  The amount that trailer shook and the intense howling that night’s wind made upon our evening abode suggested that our tarp tents would haven’t have stood a chance.

The following day proved somewhat less eventful.  The first half of the day was unusually kind to us, the sections to Tule and Nance Canyons during this time of year are normally scorchers, however we were blessed with a light coverage of clouds (no rain) and a very cool and constant breeze.  This good weather did seem to dissipate just about when the sun reached its zenith and a little sun burning was in order.  We took an early dinner in Nance Canyon on its inner little beach with Kevin and Frank, filtered several liters of bland water with a greenish tint of color and flavor, and then continued on.  There are few things better than carrying several liters of water out of a canyon and doing so with an immediate near-thousand foot climb.  One of those things is forgetting that there’s a water cache just a couple more miles up the trail.  After a wonderful beating on our lungs, shoulders, and knees we reached the water cache; didn’t need the water, and camped for the night while a pack of coyotes seemed to be having an evening hootenanny far into the early hours of the morning.  It’s a nice tune to fall asleep to I think, just a little confusing to wake up to at three in the morning and realize that those same coyotes are still at it.

Coming out of the water cache we took what seemed like a brisk nine-mile walk through the park… or at least a quick hike through Table Mountain.  The prospect of fat, salty, and greasy food at the Paradise Valley Café on Highway 74 was an exceptionally good motivator.  Here we were warmly greeted by the restaurant staff who were exceedingly enthusiastic about serving PCT thru-hikers.  They provided us with a register to sign and recommended the meals with the most calories without hesitation—the Jose and the Gus burgers.  We also met up again with Kevin and Frank as they came in shortly after us; smiles and spirits large.  Good food, hot coffee, and some delicious beers were not accompanied with good weather though.  As much as I love looking at fresh snow through a window of a warm building, as a thru-hiker though there is an omni-present process of questions that enter one’s head: “how intense will this be and for how long?”  I initially had been optimistic when hearing about this storm from Seth and Twist who opted to stay longer at Mike’s house; I figured it would just blow over.  It didn’t.  Here we can be thankful for the generous and kind nature of Copernicus’ parents, who were able to grab us from the café and drive us to Idyllwild where we could weather the storm for the night and hopefully hitch a ride back to the trail the following morning.

Leaving Idyllwild turned out to be an interesting ride, but thanks to the courtesy of three separate individuals and three separate hitches in a relatively short amount of time, we were able to return to the trailhead.  From there we also picked up a hiking companion.  Young men named Francis choose to come along with us for this section. Waiting out the storm for a single day turned out to be a good and a bad choice.  One on hand, we had the opportunity to experience Hwy 74 to Saddle Junction (27.3mi) complete covered in snow and also had multiple opportunities to camp in the snow.  However, on the other hand, this also meant that at best we were only able to move about a mile an hour; often even less.  When a three mile stretch is completed in four hours can take quiet a toll on a hiker's morale. The snow that causes this slow place does come with some perks.  Our second day into San Jacinto, we hiked a little over twelve miles and camped at a small clearing at mile 172.  Here we were able to dig out an old fire pit, find reasonably dry firewood, and sacrifice a small amount of our stove fuel to create a wonderful little fire.  The sensation that comes with drying feet that have been soaked all day long above an open flame is unparalleled experience.  By the third day, the benefits of such perks were becoming overshadowed by the sheer amount of snow and its composition—it was too cool during the day for any significant melting to occur and it was too warm during the evening for it to become solid.  In other words we were post-holing up to our knees, hips, and waists all day with few if any breaks.  After the end of our third day, we camped at Saddle Junction and decided we were going to have to bail out down Devil’s Slide or run out of food trying to get over Fuller Ridge.  Additionally, with the exception of one or two snow melt creeklets, we weren’t getting any water unless we melted snow; and this was taking a substantial toll on our stove fuel.

Francis opted to continue on and we decided to bail down Devil’s Slide into Idyllwild.  Our trip was shorted thanks to an Idyllwild resident, David Ledbetter, who gave up a ride shortly after Humber Park into town (and recommended an excellent Mexican restaurant that made bailing not so bad).  From here my sister, Shauna Lange, was very kind enough to drive out to Idyllwild, pick us up, and drop us off in Palm Springs where we would rest up, resupply, and wait a couple of days for some of the snow to melt off.  A couple of days we went back up and it proved to be a very sound choice.  Most of the snow in most of the sections melted away and helped our hike feel like a breeze after all the post-holing we did before; granted the enormous climb up from Humber Park to Saddle Junction with full packs was anything but easy.  From Saddle Junction we hiked up another thousand feet or so to a little knoll just off the trail at mile 185.  The camp had quiet a little descent to obtain water but the spot was perfect—dry, minimal wind, a clear evening sky, and not a bad spot to grab up some firewood.  There is something very quintessential about an evening campfire on a mountain top, on a quiet night.  The crackling of wood that’s being consumed by flames, accompanied by silence and a star filled sky provides for some of the best sleep a backpacker can ask for. 

I wish I could say something exciting about Fuller Ridge.  Normally it is quite the challenge.  It sits on the northern side of San Jacinto and tends to hold onto snow like a packrat twenty-year old college student holds onto ketchup packets.  The trail, during early spring cannot be found by the use of one’s eyes.  Every sign that tends to give a trail away in snow is absent on Fuller.  It simply is a snow-capped ridgeline that moves west to east, and then south; with a trail somewhere on the northside.  Crossing Fuller Ridge is basically a matter of knowing what direction you need to go, going in that direction, taking one’s time, and being patient when one periodically steps on a notoriously soft spot of snow that claims an entire leg and freezes one’s groin.  And in that exact manner, we went over Fuller Ridge, rested up at the Fuller Ridge trailhead parking lot at mile 190.2 and met up with another couple of hikers along the way—Free Bird and Bird—who are also hiking the entire PCT.  Like all hikers we’ve met before them, they were extremely kind, approachable, and their company was welcomed each time we bumped into each other.

If you hike to the Fuller Ridge trailhead parking lot and there's still plenty of good sunlight, why not hike all the way down the mountain?  From the parking lot, it is only 4.3mi to Interstate 10 as the crow flies.  On the trail though, it’s about twenty miles.  Excited with our accomplishment we opted to do it.  There wasn’t any good water on that section of the trail, camping spots few and far between; again, why not?  Coming down the mountain we also bumped into one of Tyler’s friends, Brett, who was looking for a challenge and good exercise.  He loaded up his pack as much as possible and went up from the base until he met us about half-way or so during our descent and then hiked back down the same way he came with us.  Hiking over twenty miles in a single day, most of which was downhill, on loose rocks, through overgrown sections, and all while having to somewhat conserve water is not fun.  After those miles brought us down eight thousand feet we were happy to finally be done that that mountain for good.  Tyler’s father, Bruce, helped bring us back into Palm Springs for the evening where we topped off on supplies, gorged on a good dinners, showered, and slept.  In the morning my father, John, brought us all back out to resume our trip.  Hello PCT Section C.  Next stop, Big Bear.

Don't forget, you can help us help our fellow veterants by donating to Wounded Warrior Project through our event page.  Every dollar is completely tax deductable and every dollar helps do some amazing work for our brothers and sisters in arms.

https://support.woundedwarriorproject.org/individual-fundraising/taskforcepct/

Section A Complete

109.6 miles. Thats the distance from the border terminus to Warner Springs, CA along the Pacific Crest Trail. Driving this might take you about an hour and a half, flying even less. Walking this took us about seven days. Thats right, Section A is officially in the bag!

After driving to San Diego the night prior and staying with friends Aaron and Jimil, we arrived around 6:30am on Sunday, April 1st at the southern terminus which sits only 50 feet from the border fence. After a photo-op with the terminus monument, we bid farewell to my brother Ryan (our ride...thank you Ryan!) and started northward.

The first 20 mile stretch from the border had us cruising through plenty of oak forest, chaparral-covered hills, and in and out of Hauser Canyon (a rather switchback-intensive endeavour), arriving finally to the welcome sight of my brother Ryan at Lake Morena Campground. We "slackpacked" these miles (slackpacked = day hiked) with small daypacks. The purpose was to lower our pack weight in order to complete the entire 20 mile stretch and avoid any encounters with groups of illegal immigrants fresh over the border. In past years, some hikers camped in the area have awoken to the sound of someone rifling through their packs looking for food. But as we sauntered with tired legs in to Lake Morena campground sans any undesirable encounters, my brother's car parked at the trailhead near the campground was a welcome sight. He greeted us with an expression of relief as we described in detail the first leg of hiking along the PCT. Several hours later we bid one final farewell and organized our packs for the journey ahead.

That first morning after cowboy camping at Lake Morena campground greeted us with frost on our sleeping bags and partially frozen water containers. So apparently Spring is getting a late start in Southern California this year! It was only after we had breakfast going did we really notice the large amount of other hikers camped nearby. We introduced ourselves and met a few fellow thru-hikers along with some section hikers headed to Warner Springs. After packing up, it was northbound once again. Over the next few days, we walked through more manzanita covered hillsides, down canyons and up to Laguna Mountain where our first resupply packages awaited. Prior to picking up packages however, we stopped by Mt Laguna Sports and Supply. After taking a minute to chat with the owner and browse among the vast collection of hiking and camping gear, I found a few things I had neglected to procure the previous week. Hiking out of that small town with a full five days worth of food was a big wake up call to how heavy a full pack can be. Packs bulging, we camped near a known water source adjacent to Noble Canyon trailhead about 6.5 miles outside of Mt Laguna. It was at this point I realized my pocket knife had somehow escaped my possession. I suppose if there were the need for a gear sacrifice during this hike, the knife was mine.

Continuing on, we walked along a stretch of trail that provided a prominent view of the Anza Borrego desert. During one of our breaks, Oddball (John) sat on a nice flat rock, only to disturb a rather large ant nest hidden underneath, and shortly thereafter a surprised scorpion came ambling out as well. We managed to snap a few photos after we stopped laughing.

The next couple of days brought more descent and ascent from around 5000 feet down to 2200 feet and back up to 3500 feet. It was around the 3rd gate water cache that Oddball suddenly realized we were an entire day ahead of schedule! This normally would not have been an issue, but since we rely on post offices being open on the days we arrive into resupply towns, and this meant we would arrive in Warner Springs on a Sunday, we could not retrieve our packages. Oddball decided then to call his friends Vince and Michelle for a possible ride and night's stay in the nearby town of Ramona. Lucky for us, Vince and Michelle were available and drove up and picked up the two lowly, smelly hikers that were a day early into Warner Springs. That night we ate at a great local diner in Ramona (after showering and a little laundry) and had a good nights sleep on things other than sleeping pads and hard ground. What a treat!

The next morning we were picked up and driven to Mataguay Scout Ranch by Vince's dad Chuck, all the while sharing stories of time served in the military. Three of the five branches were represented the car that morning, so there were many stories and jokes to be shared.

Both Oddball and I are now enjoying our second day at Mataguay Scout Ranch in a great cabin, eating, reading, and most importantly, resting our feet. Tomorrow starts Section B and the climb up into the Santa Rosa mountains, with San Jacinto to be tackled a few days following.

There are so many other details to write about, but writing from a phone can be cumbersome, so we'll try and keep these entries succinct. Thanks again to those who support and follow us, as well as those donating to the Wounded Warrior Project. Any amount helps as we continue our adventure and raise money towards supporting our brothers and sisters in arms. Again, thanks to Jimil and Aaron Linton, Ryan Blauvelt, David at Laguna Mountain Sports and Supply, Vince and Michelle, Chuck, and Ranger Mike. All of these fine folks have been extremely generous in the past week and we would just like to extend our gratitude. A special shout out to the United States Postal Service for helping keeping us nourished and amply supplied with round-dates stamped in our journals (more on that later).

Be sure to visit our Facebook page and follow us on twitter for more frequent updates.

- Tyler "Copernicus" Blauvelt