We are up at 420 and I grab a mint from the front desk on the way to our Uber. I’m able to write 29 paragraphs on the first flight and edit them while we wait to park at our gate. There are over ten planes in line to take off. We have an uneventful flight to Missoula, where we just flew out a week ago. Jessi is there to pick us up and Jake meets us at the garage with cold snacks.
bye, bye boxes
We combined boxes, and minus three mailed and six broken down, we were able to put them all in the car (after I called our insurance back as well). We stop at REI for a hooded shirt each… so much for the neck gaiters that aren’t as easy or breezy, and sun gloves for Caleb as even his thin cold weather gloves are too much in the desert heat. We find a BLM campsite and take the last spot available, thanks to my disabled veteran.
Caleb is struggling with what we thought the trail would be versus the reality we are facing. Trail angels are heading north, as apparently is our water supply, leaving the county to lock access behind them. The first two weeks should ease hikers into the experience but we are being forced to carry more water (which slows us down) further just to pick up more weight and carry on.
Caleb, Jess, Ravi, Rachel, and Gert in Julian
We arrive at the end of each day dirty and exhausted without the water suggested we use to wash our feet. Forget about reading, others aren’t finding time to journal either, but I take notes when I can – while cooking, eating, and stretching. We discussed our options and went to breakfast after some coffee on the porch. The dining room doors open at 8am and service is old-fashioned and fancy.
first breakfast in Julian
We are served homemade granola with apple juice as our first breakfast. If the kitchen has leftover granola guests can buy some to take home. The second course is served and we are joined by Rachel. We let her know we were catching the bus to San Diego for a zero-day. Gert joins us ten minutes later, in time for us to wish them luck on their first evening hike to escape the heat and need for so much water.
Denver says hi
We pass Mom’s Pie House on the way to the bus stop that will take us to El Cajon, and they’re open, so we stop in for a free slice of pie and a drink (for PCT hikers with permits) to go. We signed the hiker log after Rachel’s entry yesterday and waited with Denver on the curb until we were shooed off by the driver upon her arrival. Sixteen dollars later and we are on our way.
pie in motion
The driver tells one of her regulars that she got her lips done and hopes she didn’t overdo it because she doesn’t want to look like a blow-up doll. She will chat with us about her Army son and Air Force daughter and how she now does her own nails and eyebrows to save money. We stopped at a general store in the middle of our journey where they sell chocolate lemon pistachio cookies that we left untried.
just my clean trail clothes
The woman who (reminds us of Yzma from The Emperor’s New Groove) we dropped off has rejoined us via a short walk. Once on the trolley, for $5, to Old Town, we will eat our pie. We part ways at 11am with Denver, who might return to the trail (I definitely encourage her to do so) but is over the blisters covering her feet. After lunch, we get an early check-in to wash trail evidence away before our flight tomorrow.
making friends off trail
Quarters and a key from the front desk are needed. When I return after the first wash for more coins, the woman says eww when I tell her my clothes are still dirty. This is the introduction to trail life. One hiker trash reference is to the outfits’ ability to add weight as parts of the path cling to every knit. We are spoiled to soak off the grime that has quickly become our new skin tone. It’s hard to fall asleep after a three-mile day.
Yesterday was 18.4 miles, by my watch. Caleb, Rachel, and Gert go back half a mile or so to the Sunrise Highway junction, where it’s a quarter mile to a water source. The other two had planned to leave at 5am but were just as tired as we were. They leave at 6am, and we are half an hour behind, so we skip breakfast to get on the trail.
Ravi asks if we have spare water, twice, but it’s the most precious resource out here, and he was already offered water that he turned down. He will take off at a quick clip as Gert has offered to get him more food in Julian after giving him a few items from his pack. I know that it saves weight but I had our night cocoa with my breakfast the other morning, so I would only offer my unused coffee packets, as food is necessary also.
I’m sore and exhausted and feel at about 50% of my potential. We go slow and steady up a truck road; if you don’t lean forward you will fall back. We stop in the shade three-quarters of the way up for a snack at 9am. We see a random ball of red in the bush but leave it unpicked as it’s unidentified. The views are incredible but the heat is already hitting us from above and from the cooked earth below. Cactus are in bloom while we feel like withering into a tub of ice.
Just before a cattle guard, I feel like I’m going to be swallowed into the sand like a scene out of Dune, and a man hiding in the shade next to water hears me cry out, “Whoo, that almost got me!” and of course has to ask as it could be a rattler waiting for him. He points out a shade bush and we quickly take our noon refuge. I finish my dinner and then my breakfast. Caleb waits for the man to walk south before taking his spot near the water.
breakfast in a bag
We’re not ready to leave, but the sun is slowly encroaching on our shade, so we have no choice but to press on. We both drink water just to the point of nausea and I have remembered my nightly chapstick to keep my lips from splitting open. Part of the path looks safe for cliff-diving cats of prey and the goats they’re after. We stay as close as we can when rocks and bushes don’t push us closer to the thin edge.
We were warned that the first part of the trail was physical and then, further on, it would be mental, but people have to be crazy to traverse this crumbly mountainside. We agree there is no choice but to continue as others have preceded us and succeeded. Even worried about whether my bag or body would hit rock or bush first, I’m able to pause and appreciate the snake watching me from his spot in the shade.
We pass a man with a mustache at 3pm as he’s finishing a break. He will pass us when we find a tall rock to hide beside for a minute and we watch him fall. He assures us he’s fine as it’s not the first time, even with trekking poles which pose a hazard of their own. The cactus grows closer to the trail as we continue and the wind brings temporary relief. The ant population increases activity as the high heat of the day is over.
We find a sloped spot under a rock about three miles from the road but are determined to get to Julian tonight, about a 17-mile hitch into town. The rest of today’s trail is flat and has a few jackrabbits crossing to keep up motivation. We almost take the last tent site but hope that the man behind us at least makes it there for some reprieve tomorrow. It’s about 0.7 miles to Scissors Crossing which is marked as a PCT parking lot on the map.
The fence is open, though, so we pop onto the road, and after giving a kind wave to four cars, the fifth pulls over with PCT Trail Rides written on the door. We are offered an air-conditioned ride as long as we are willing a 20-minute detour to help two other hikers. At this point, we would have slept in her car while she ran errands all night. She’s concerned we’re out too late and even more worried about the 16-year-old in the American wilderness on his own.
I thought Ravi was turning 18 in a few weeks, but he has the trail on his side as hikers look out for each other, after self-preservation, of course. We drop an umbrella to one hiker and return another to get back on the trail. We’re fine on the straight road and when not facing the sun but the windshield is bright white otherwise. She managed to not make two turkey road sandwiches and we arrived safely in Julian at 645pm.
We’ve only ever day-tripped to Julian and expected inside prices to be high. Outside offers a cot and mosquitoes for $10 a night, the bed & breakfast offers just that – and a dark blanket for dirty hikers. Check-in is very small-town friendly, and we notice Gert and Ravi’s names in the guest book, but we’re on a time constraint to wash quickly and get to dinner before the restaurant closes at 8pm.
We use almost a bar of soap, scrubbing as many body cubbies as we can reach and washing our hair at least twice before throwing on our cleanest dirty clothes and camp shoes and walking very quickly about a block away to Julian Beer Co. On a day visit, this town only seems like a block long, but after 17-ish or more miles in the desert, it’s a journey to salad and conversation.
I have a drink waiting for me and we clink glasses upon my arrival. Caleb had to order half a chicken to go on our otherwise meatless salads, and Rachel ordered the table some garlic cheese bread to go with their pepperoni pizza. Gert found some shoes in the hiker box, along with stakes for a circus tent, a home water purifier system, and a jar of peanut butter. I can’t imagine carrying that much weight.
The shoes are too small for him, but he will offer them to Denver, who is staying on a cot nursing her heel and toe blisters until she can arrange to go home with the possibility of returning. I tell her she definitely should as I realize how many people section hike in a year and how others take years to complete this beast of beauty and burden.
Gert and Rachel leave camp at 620 and we’ll be about 15 minutes behind, as usual. I spent the morning drying wet clothes in the hand dryer while the four of us shared the three stalls in the open bathroom. Not everything is dry, but we don’t want to waste the cool part of the day, so we put moist clothes on top and pass two other thru-hikers on our way back to the trail.
There’s a water fountain with a plaque on it but there’s no water. This will be the condition of most of the sources that those who went before us could rely on to keep their pack weight down and their body alive. We have to carry more water. Ravi passed us at 7am and will again at 8am as we passed him having breakfast. This morning is beautiful. I stopped for a ladybug picture as Rachel was telling us how she murdered them on accident as a child on the playground and still feels guilty.
We were going to stop in a bit of shade but a poor bird beat us to it, so we’ll leave it there and continue on to another cool spot on the ground provided by desert bushes. I see a garter snake later, and perhaps he’ll return for free lunch, but I think they prefer their food fresh. There are a lot of parts on the trail where if you don’t look down you will definitely sprain or break something. This is why stretch breaks for the neck, arms, back, and legs are so important.
My watch activity tracker thinks I’m out here on an elliptical since I use my trekking poles to balance over rocks, climb over them, and generally stabilize in the sand and over burrows dug in the trail (some collapse, leaving less foot space). Learning to use the poles is easy, either with the same or opposite foot or both at the same time, but you might step on one, or a bush grabs one, or a rock crevice takes hold.
We pass Ravi again at 10am and are averaging two mph. Little blue butterflies are welcome company as is wind, but not when it threatens to send my hat careening to its death off a cliff. I’m able to turn around quick enough, without falling myself, and stab it with my pole. I put the chin strap on and continue until we find another shade tree at noon. Ravi will pass us again. We all have a planned rendezvous at the Cleveland National Forest so we will see him again soon.
The cloud cover is convenient but the day is still warming up. We’ve stopped at Pioneer Mail Picnic Site to chat with our trail family, nap for an hour on acorn hats with our jackets on, and get our permits stamped and bag tags from a ranger. We refill our water and have dinner before 4pm so we can get another six or seven miles added to our eleven-mile morning. A fellow hiker has hurt her knee and chooses to spend the night.
Past the water source is a hall of fallen rocks and memorials. Later Gert will show us him posing on the concrete barrier wall that is holding the mountain up. The other end is Kwaaymii Point before the trail crosses over a turnaround point for cars. The PCT also travels along roads, sometimes hiding hikers in changing elevations and other times leaving us exposed for drivers’ viewing pleasure.
Pioneer Mail Picnic Site
We get passed by a hiker with a permit tag on his bag that looks like it belongs to a day hiker. I suppose that’s the benefit of being fit enough to power walk up mountains (double our speed), something I was able to do up to Potato Chip Rock once and then catch up to my friend who chose to run down. Perhaps if I hadn’t broken a bone in each foot I would be more willing to take another risk, but an injury would only slow us more.
Gert and Rachel
We had our tent opened between trail and bushes when Gert reminded us about the long walk to the water tomorrow and that both our watches were off on mileage count as we weren’t to the five-tent site as planned, so we’d have room for four tents. We saw two women in a large spot in the sun and assumed we had passed it. We would take another hour and a half to reach sleep for the night, but they saved us a large spot with some privacy.
I attempt to undress and set up my bed at the same time. I’m glad we’re not set on top of an anthill here, and I will think about the other half of my uneaten dinner as I pass out in a mixture of dirt and sweat. I’m accustomed to the late-night zippers and ground crunching as hikers are finding a pee bush or passing by and making use of the moonlight to reach their daily miles. We are only limited by our permits (with PCT thru-hiker discounts) but other travelers have visa restraints.
Today will have us leaving camp at 8am, about five minutes behind our trail family, with my body at a 6 out of 10. I see a California kingsnake but the non-venomous ones are usually in a hurry to escape or perhaps don’t care that I want a picture of them and are going about their day. I didn’t feel the same need for the rattler hiding in the bush but I did bother getting a peek at one of them.
morning elevation
We see gophers that destroyed part of the camp roads, caterpillars covering the trail, and a few horny toads sunning themselves on dirt and rocks. There is lots of sand and loose rock on our elevated climb. We were ready for the hot and flat desert, not the stabilizer muscles’ boot camp of the century. We find a beautiful shade tree and share our morning break with ants and caterpillars.
We brush the chunks off ourselves and our packs before becoming one again to limit blister development that we have avoided so far. I’m getting a triangular sunburn between my glove and watch, and my skin disagrees with the constant sweat levels, but otherwise, we are doing well. We hit a patch of trees and a steep decline to a water source. We drop our bags and Caleb makes the short trek and returns with a dirty water bag (that will be filtered) minus its handle.
morning break
We see a gopher snake as our third of the day, which reminds me why I like to be outside so much – more nature, less man-made issues. We stop for an afternoon rest with the scents of pine, skunk, fire, and ass accompanying us, according to Caleb. I agree that dirty trees smell better than dusty people. We’ve partially hiked on loose and uneven rocks before but turned back to give our feet a break. We don’t have that option now.
shade by the water
A woman approaches with her six-year-old horse and dog named Sky, who doesn’t want our sweaty hands on him, but the horse, the shades of butter, doesn’t mind a quick greeting before they, too, get ahead of us. Then the bugs come. Our clothes and tent are treated, so we’ve been lucky so far, but I have one flying with me trying to get into my left eye, and I don’t want them in my mouth as Rachel has encountered.
Great basin gopher snake
We are grateful for the shaded area and take another break in the high heat of the day since we don’t know what’s around the next turn or hill. We have about a mile to go until our planned stop at Mt. Laguna when I start getting snacky. Eric, our first trail angel, will satisfy that need before we reach our spot at the other end of the campground. We join him at a table for two Tillamook ice-cream sandwiches (vanilla and chocolate), two pieces of homemade brownies, a banana, and various electrolyte drink flavors.
sign post
Caleb is thirsty enough to forgive the coconut water. Eric keeps in touch with other angels and the hikers who come by and is able to let us know that Grandpa made it to Boulder Oaks before deciding it was better for him to fly back to Germany. We understand how many don’t make it through the desert. We let him know we’ll send him two more hikers when we catch up to Gert and Rachel who are already clean.
trail magic
While they get pre-dinner treats we will use the $1 shower, thanks to Eric for exchanging my dollar for quarters, and then wash our clothes in the spigot and hang them to dry while we eat dinner and lay in our sleeping bags at 7pm. It’s a bit of work to set up a bedroom at the end of the night, but we’re getting into a routine. Today’s mileage was just ten miles to give our bodies a chance to catch up.
TheJessicaness 