Sizing Up & The Mission to McDonald’s
It’s hard to believe it’s been almost two weeks since I left Big Bear. I’ve passed the 300 and 400 mile markers, finished traveling west through the San Gabriel Mountains, walked 22 miles to a McDonald’s, and dropped down below 3,000 feet. I’m currently in Acton (2,700 feet) and will stay relatively low until the climb from Tehachapi toward the Sierra—a far cry from the cloud carpeted vistas of the last week. This point in the trail always marks the shift from the taller peaks of Southern California to the hot oven of a desert that hikers must pass through before moving on. This year it represents another transition. Almost no hikers without extensive mountaineering experience are entering the Sierras. As a result, this is the point where hikers are making plans for what comes next. Flip up to Tahoe? Chester? Oregon? What’s the snow like in Washington? There are a lot of unknowns.
I left Big Bear on May 16th, and had made an effort to make sure I was carrying more than enough food for six days when I would resupply in Wrightwood. They say a day’s worth of food for PCT hikers should weigh about 2 pounds (or half to a quarter of the weight of a Coulter pine cone). This certainly felt like that at the least. Even at the minimum I was carrying over 30 pounds for the first time, even after shedding my snow equipment in Big Bear. Once I made it back to trail (ride from a couple in a nearby AirBnB + public bus + hitch from a Nepalese cook) I did what any self-respecting hiker would do. I knocked out a couple of miles and stopped early for a big lunch.
Back on trail with a marginally lighter pack, I appreciated some panoramic views of Big Bear Lake from above for the first time before running into Atlas again as well as Zippy, Vortex and Snake Mate at a campground ten miles later. We leapfrogged the next day, overlapping for lunch and siesta among many Holcomb Creek crossings before camping on the banks of the creek after a 19 mile day.
The next day was a short hop walking alongside the incredibly beautiful Deep Creek that would lead us to the Deep Creek Hot Springs. We were lucky enough to arrive at the end of a weekday and, along with a couple of dozen other PCT hikers, mostly had the glorious hot springs to ourselves. My friend Wiley and I are fans of the executive workout (hot tub and/or sauna without an actual workout) but I have to say that walking over 300 miles to a natural hot springs is as amazing as it is inefficient.
At this point, we were traveling as five and decided that the next day should include a daytime stop at Joshua Inn, a hiker friendly dive bar with a deli that would pick us up from trail. My job was to make sure we were headed back to trail in an hour. Friends, I failed in my mission. Four hours later we were climbing back onto the trail. I met Ted Talk at a brisk and cruel water crossing that forced you to plunge to your waist just before rising to a more civilized level. We broke for dinner at 7 when the group night hiked out so Atlas could make a resupply rendezvous in Cajon. My glasses had lost an arm so I passed on the night hiking and made camp.
Vortex with the four major beverage groups.
I woke up the next morning 22 miles from Cajon Junction and, more importantly, a trail adjacent McDonald’s. Fueled by hamburger hunger and protected by the shield of Vitamin I (ibuprofen), I decided to crank out this Mission to McDonald’s—my biggest effort to date. There was beautiful trail around Silverwood Lake. There was veggie burger trail magic. There was a cold creek perfect for foot soaking. There were beautiful austere hills out of another place and time. And then, just after I completed the last triumphant climb before Cajon Junction, a thunderstorm moved in. I was caught in a game of electrical pickle, stuck between the highest point on the highest hill and a series of metal electrical towers. Would my dreams of bunless burgers and an m&m McFlurry be denied? Would I be flame broiled? Thankfully, no. I waited out the storm, made my way to Route 66 and used that McDonald’s touch screen to do things I’m not proud of. C’est la guerre.
The mission was a success but my feet were once again a wreck. I had made the mistake of not sizing up my shoes in Big Bear. I was not going to let another chance go by. Just over twelve hours and an Uber ride from Rami Malek’s uncle later, I walked into the Rancho Cucamonga REI like Charlie into the Chocolate Factory. I walked out on cloud nine, sporting a pair Hoka Challengers, size 10.5 wide and soles thicker than the turkey avocado sandwich at Idyllwild Pizza.
These shoes have changed everything. Moving up a shoe size have given my feet the room they needed and the obscenely thick soles of the Hokas are giving my soles some much needed relief. My blisters have gone from one form of Oscar domination (Everything, Everywhere, All at Once) to another (All Quiet on the Western Front). Every step used to be a Princess and the Pea situation. Now, I’m Goldilocks and the trail is the third bowl of porridge.
The climb out of Cajon Junction the next day included 3,000 feet over 9 miles and for the first time, both my feet and legs were there for it. The day was a series of hills, nested behind one another. Rising above a valley dotted with yuccas and then a sea of clouds every mile or so would reveal the next hill and the loping path that the trail would take through it. Up was the only choice and maybe the new shoes were coloring things for me, but I found beauty in discovering the path at each new hill. There were views of San Gorgonio and even, in the distance, San Jacinto.
The climb ended the next afternoon just outside of Wrightwood, one of my favorite trail towns to date. Idyllwild embraces hikers. Big Bear Lake absorbs them. Wrightwood, though, is a small town that makes space for us. There’s no outfitter, but the local hardware store has created a big area for gear and a backyard for hikers to plan and congregate. The Grizzly Cafe found more ways to accommodate us than we could have asked for and the local grocer stocked all of our favorites. A local property manager makes sure, one way or another, hikers have a place to stay, part of a group or not.
After sharing an AirBnB with (and I love this list of names) Zippy, TT, Vortex, Snake Mate, Atlas, Banshee, Teddy Bear, Cookie and Angry Dane, I was off again. I road walked an apocalyptic Highway 2 around Baden-Powell to avoid the snow, took an alternate around the trail to avoid protected Yellow Legged Frog habitat and soon found myself hiking in the section of the Angeles National Forest that I had hiked the most often when I lived in LA. I had no idea back then how close the PCT came to my back yard. The night before last I camped on a ridge with sunset views of Strawberry Peak, where I used to hike all the time. I was so excited to be nearby I almost made a side quest out of it. Instead, I received amazing trail magic from Todd, the keeper of a local fire station, camped in Mattox Canyon, a perfect desert oasis, and reconnected with Ted Talk.
Yesterday, I hiked my first ten before ten (10 miles before 10 a.m.). Tomorrow some friends from LA are going to come up for a visit and provide some trail magic themselves (1 p.m. onward at the parking lot by the Indian Canyon Trailhead in Acton if anyone on trail is reading). I’m more excited to hike than to rest and I’m excited to link up some big mile days.
After the two weeks that came before, I’m wondering what the next set of challenges will be. I’m not looking to get in the way of this trend but, in a way, I’m looking forward to handling whatever comes next. I’ll be happy to ride the good times, but I know before long I’ll have the chance to deal with any problems that arise, hopefully, with poise and determination.
