It Was the Best of Climbs. It Was the a Worst of Climbs.

Even in the best of times, leaving town is hard. Real beds. Cold drinks. Hot meals. Cold drinks and hot meals at the same time! Never before have I considered a motel jacuzzi to be so close to paradise. Leaving Tehachapi was especially hard. After 550 miles, everyone was tired of the desert. At least I know I was. There is no promise of grand views until the Sierras, 150 miles later. There are no significant named peaks to climb over or around. In addition to all of this, the trail begins to truly embrace its path through the Mojave as the dirt of the trail turns into what hikers like to call “kitty litter.” The saving grace of hiking the section this Spring was that the temperatures remained exceptionally low, rarely dipping below the mid 40s at night and, more importantly, rarely going above the high 70s during the day: water and cool temperatures in what is typically the most grueling section of the desert. In this section of steep, unrewarding climbs and relatively long water carries, the cool temperatures made it all the more bearable. 

I slowly wended my way out from Tehachapi after a full zero the day before, confident that hitches would get me to the trailhead. If a hiker doesn’t stop at Walker Pass to resupply, it’s a 136 mile food carry to Kennedy Meadows (South). At 5-7 days and 2 pounds of food per day, this makes for a heavy pack, especially with the frequent 4 liter water carries (8.8 pounds). Unlike my wiser colleagues who had slack packed the 10 miles between the first and second hitches into Tehachapi while in town, I got on trail with a 146 mile food carry ahead of me. This is not epically unwise, but we like to stack the cards in our favor in this game. 

Thanks to a second hitch from a wind turbine mechanic who was regularly briefed on conditions in the area, I made it to mile 558.5 in the afternoon with a heavy pack and a little more information about the weather and the Mojave Green, a rattlesnake of significant concern due to its exceptionally potent venom. And so with sunshine on my shoulders and joy in my heart, I once again stepped into the Tehachapi wind farm. The hiking, if uninspiring, was equally unchallenging. The only green I ran into in this segment were the gluten-free mint Oreos, past Allan packed in his food bag. He also packed out a reuben from the local bakery which was devoured just after making camp behind the windbreak of a juniper tree. What a guy!

What followed were several days of hauling a heavy pack up steep, unrewarding climbs through terrain that alternated between rocks, dirt and the kitty litter. There were also windmills. Those windmills that were wondrous sunflowers laying shadowy mosaics on the landscape on the descent into Tehachapi became dispiriting monoliths. Yes, I was wilting at windmills. There was such a disconnect. These were great days hiking in a community I had come to know incredibly well. Big group dinners. Catch ups with old friends. First trail conversations with new friends. Talks with hikers that turned acquaintances into friends. The times with people were good, but I was mentally ready to be done with the desert and it showed in my hiking. I was going slowly. I was getting the miles in, but it was taking more of the day than it should have. 

The grey fox is at the very center of the photo.

After two or three days of this, there were whispers of epic trail magic at a campground in the middle of nowhere from a trail angel known as Old Yeller. This was great news! If I hit the trail magic quickly and ate well, I might be able to stretch my resupply all the way to Kennedy Meadows. 

There is a concept on the trail known as the Vortex. The Vortex usually occurs in town, but it can happen any time, any place. The Vortex has a mission, and that is to deter you from yours. The Vortex is fun. The Vortex is hard to resist. The Vortex is the enemy of making miles. Many hikers were vortexed by Old Yeller’s trail magic. The beer seemed to be limitless. The carnitas tacos were well braised and even better seasoned. Now, technically, I was not vortexed at this trail magic. I came. I ate. I donated. And two hours later, I left. Yet, somehow, I only hiked for 5 hours that day making about a dozen miles. 

The goal of filling up to make my food last to Kennedy Meadows was a wash at best with this low mileage day. As it turned out, it was exactly what I needed. I hiked the early morning with Popcorn and then with Battery Acid, and finally, before the trail magic, with Min, a chef from Hawaii. I reconnected with or met another two dozen hikers at the trail magic, and ended up at an incredibly well stocked and impeccably kept water cache too early to go to bed, and stayed too long to start the next leg. More importantly, when I arrived I got to spend time with Lemon, who had experienced some of Gustavo and Paradice’s trail magic in Acton, as well as Margot, Mercedes, Baywatch and Turtle, who has hiked the trail most years recently. 

🐢

Turtle, who had helped out at the trail magic by drinking my share of the beer, was laying down by one of the water taps, rehydrating like instant mashed potatoes and playing a superb game of non-sequitur theater. Turtle was just doing his thing. I don’t know what it was about this but it unlocked a certain care-free feeling that I had at the beginning of the trail, but that had dissipated somewhere along the way. Turtle and some of the others packed up and moved on, but the feeling stayed. I felt great and just rolled with it. I got a few good lines in and Baywatch asked me if I was going to do trail stand-up. As it turned out, I had a little outdoor material I had worked on a few months back and delivered what I could remember. Did I slay? It’s hard to say, but I’m excited to work on the material. 

As we pushed deeper into the Mojave the next day, Joshua Trees, thunderstorms and kitty litter abounded. Late morning I hit an intersection where the PCT hits an ATV trail at the same time as Andrea and Susan, two Czech, hikers, and about a dozen rally cars that were tearing down the road. The parade of vehicles came to a stop. The driver of the lead car bounded out and asked if we wanted any water or soda. Susan asked, “Do you have beer?” A minute later we were plied with two sodas and a Modelo for Susan. 

If this wasn’t manna from heaven, then the next water cache was. Clearly maintained by the same generous, organized trail angel as the last cache, this one added hundreds of battery packs, a modest PCT library, a first aid resupply and a hand washing station. I had dinner, refilled my water bottles and my phone, and took off up the next big climb when I saw the weather threatening. I didn’t beat the storm, but I made it to a stunning campsite overlooking the valley just as the rain cleared and the sun shone on my side of the mountain. I made camp and ate dinner in the last rays of the sun.

I woke up the next morning, hell bent on making it to Kennedy Meadows. I had just enough food. I was going to go for it. This, however, was before the big rain. Before the big temperature drop. And most importantly, before Lite Bright texted to see if I was stopping in Ridgerest to resupply. I couldn’t resist the temptation of a bed, a dry bed, and one more dinner with Lite Bright, Kidska and Door. I made it to Ridgecrest after 18 miles and was lucky enough to make it to the highway just as a trail angel was coming to refill a water cache. In no time, we were all in true desert heat, sipping on ice cold horchata and eating some of the largest tacos I’ve ever seen. This was likely the last time I would see these friends, or rather, if I hadn’t stopped, the trail magic with Old Yeller would have been the last time. They were taking a full zero and I would likely beat them to Kennedy Meadows. It was a great decision. The next days would be tough and having had those eighteen hours were great memories to have in the bank. 

I nearo-ed out of Walker Pass the next day and cowboy camped, watching the lights of Ridgecrest blink on before I went to bed, knowing the next day and the day after would have big climbs. The climbs were tough, not so much in and of themselves, but simply because I was tired of the Mojave. My brain was slowing my legs down. We hit the dew point each night and the overcast days made it tough to dry out my gear. One  night I rolled into camp just before 9 and discovered that the condensation from the night before had knocked out my headlamp. I was ready for a change. 

Luckily on the third morning out from Walker Pass, I woke up next to gurgling creek as the first light peaked over the horizon. Today I would pass 700 miles and make it to Kennedy Meadows, the end of the desert and the gateway to the Sierras. Pints of ice cream and cold White Claws awaited at the Kennedy Meadows General Store. Grumpy’s famous Triple Crown Burger awaited two miles into this town of less than 200. I was off like a shot. A couple of miles in a hiker passed me as I was removing rocks from my shoes. I asked where he was coming from.

“A campsite a little while back,” he replied.

“The one two miles back?

“No. About 15.”  It was 7 a.m. 

I had just met Townward, a hiker currently attempting a Calendar Year Triple Crown: the Pacific Crest Trail, the Continental Divide Trail, and the Appalachian Trail–about 8,000 miles of hiking–all in one year. And then hew was gone. 

Not long after, Baywatch caught up to me and we passed the 700 mile marker together. We also made the mistake, once we got to the road that leads to the General Store, of accepting a ride from a truck that stopped for us. There’s a long tradition of clapping in hikers as they walk up to the General Store. We may have missed our claps but something had told me to buy a couple of minis of bourbon before I left Ridgecrest and we toasted the completion of the desert before walking into this land of milk and honey and Ben & Jerry’s and White Claw. 

Townward & Baywatch

Anna

Captain Cook with Grumpy’s all you can eat pancake.

My plan, from this point, was to hitch back to LA, fly to Seattle, send supplies ahead to a few trail towns in Washington and start hiking the trail southbound from the northern terminus in about a week and a half, giving the snow in northern Washington a little more time to melt. Amazingly, a ride to LA appeared after only half an hour. This time the trail provided a little too early. I needed to enjoy this time with my community. Townward and I had to talk shoe lacings and blister care and Hobbes and water filters. I needed to help Zip pick up a package. I needed to catch up with Anna, who I hiked Fuller Ridge with and hadn’t seen in almost 500 miles. I needed that massive stack of a burger from Grumpy’s. So I stayed and I trusted that the trail would provide again. 

And did it. As I was eating ice cream the next morning, trying to glom a ride from the General Store down to the Owens Valley (step 1 of my 3 part plan), claps erupted. Lite Bright, Kidska and Door were walking up. Of all my clapping, this was my first standing ovation. I bought a round of drinks and we got one last catch-up before they headed into the Sierras (I got word earlier today that they safely reached Lone Pine! Anna, too!).

My plan to get to LA worked perfectly: Kennedy Meadows to 395. 395 to the 14. The 14 to Van Nuys. Well, I didn’t plan for Van Nuys, but it was close enough to Paradice’s apartment in Glendale, my base of operations before my flight to Seattle. Once in LA, I survived the crush of shoppers at Trader Joe’s, planned my Washington resupply and even squeezed in a few Frog Claws at the Frogtown Brewery with Gustavo and his dad on Father’s Day! 

The corporate lounge membership expires in 2 weeks.

I’ve been in Seattle for about a day and a half, staying with my friend Luke and his family, and have already run into a half dozen hikers at the local REI. On the way up, my flight passed directly over Sierras and Yosemite. The views of the snowy peaks were, in Lite Bright’s words “beautiful and intimidating.” I felt good about my choices.

Yosemite Valley: El Capitan. Half Dome. Glacier Point. Yosemite Falls. Horsetail Falls. Nevada Falls.

Friday, I’ll head to Vancouver for a little hiking R&R to stay fresh and early next week I’ll be heading to Mazama to get back to the trail, this time heading south. Nothing is given, but I hope I don’t need to flip again. I sure would like to wrap things up with another pint of ice cream at the Kennedy Meadows General Store.