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Campo to Warner Springs
Thursday, April 20: Hauser Creek - 15.3 miles
We're on our way, at last. As usual, last minute hitches threatened to delay our departure, but we fought through the tangle of details and difficulties to fly to San Diego on schedule. Brick, a friend from the Internet, picked us up at the airport on Wednesday afternoon, drove us around town, took us for a short walk in Balboa Park, then out to dinner at an Indian restaurant, and let us sleep in his living room. It was fun to finally meet him, after "knowing" him via e-mail for so long.
This morning we had a big breakfast, then headed toward the border near Campo. It only takes a couple of hours to drive from San Diego to the PCT monument at the border, but what a difference! San Diego is pretty, with a very tropical feel to it (lots of trees and flowers), but Campo is inland in high desert. We stopped at the Post Office in town to see who had signed in at the trail register there, then signed in again at the border monument a mile away. At least 20 have started the PCT already, though it is a bit hard to tell since many who sign in are section hikers, not thruhikers who intend to go all the way this year. Several signed in this week, and the earliest likely long distance hiker began about a month ago. The Mexican border has a wide cleared swath next to a metal fence — not chicken wire as in Arizona, but solid steel. A border patrol car pulled up while we were there. It is quite ugly, with the bulldozed and burned desert all around.
In contrast, the desert is filled with flowers. There was a heavy rain a few days ago, so the seasonal creeks are running and the flowers are blooming. Desert lilac and another white bush are in full flower, smelling very sweet. There are lots of small desert flowers hidden in the brush. Not masses, but enough to be interesting.
After saying farewell to Brick, at about 10:00 we headed north toward Campo, a small town about a mile from the border. About 15 minutes along, I twisted my ankle, badly. We sat for about 10 minutes waiting for the throbbing to subside, then started off again, slowly. We had to decide whether or not to let it stop us, but decided to keep going, since we had already seen Brick drive off and didn't really want to camp out at Campo unless it became absolutely necessary. Two miles later we stopped next to a stream to rest, cool off, and eat lunch in the shade of some tall cottonwoods. Bird song surrounded us. The day is warm and sunny — hot in the sun, but cool in the shade, with a breeze blowing lightly.
I'm happy and excited to be on our way. Yesterday it didn't seem real, but now I’m ready. Brick, who has thruhiked the trail and done a lot of trail running along it as well, warned us about the PCT reality: problems like poison oak, ticks, snakes, overgrown brush and endless switchbacks. But reality is also birds and flowers, blue skies, lizards, hawks, ground squirrels, sunsets, and starry nights.
We didn't make it as far as we hoped. I was limping along slowly because of my ankle and we took a lot of long breaks. We're camped near a trickle of water at Hauser Creek. It's next to a dirt road and too near the trail, but neither seems to get a lot of use. The trail itself has been good — wide and recently cleared. It does a lot of winding, but the grade is gentle — too gentle sometimes. We saw some poison oak, but mostly it was well cut back. I don't know whether the trail tomorrow will be as well cleared, but today was nice.
Jim has a sore knee and I was stung by something nasty — a bee or wasp — but otherwise we're okay, just tired. My ankle was painful. I think it will be okay, but now it still hurts. It looks swollen, but not bruised. In common with the majority of PCT hikers, I decided to wear low-topped trail shoes instead of heavy boots in the desert sections. That may have been a mistake. The heat was getting to me for a while, but it cooled off as the shadows grew longer. Usually there was a gentle breeze. The country was rocky chaparral, densely grown brush on both sides of the trail. We saw a pretty ranch below us, but after that the country was very remote and wild. We'll head into the Hauser Wilderness tomorrow, briefly. We saw few critters: just lizards, ground squirrels and birds.
We did see a large group of illegals creeping up a draw. They hid when they saw me. Later we saw a couple more people down near where we're camped. I had hoped they were PCT hikers, but they disappeared too. They might be headed up the ridge to Lake Morena where there's a campground and store, or they may be more immigrants. It was interesting to see the signs in Spanish warning about the danger of being in the area without water. This little creek will be dry in a few weeks, if not sooner. If we weren't so tired, we wouldn’t camp here, but it is too late in the day to do a steep climb and five more miles. Mentally I'm fine; physically, I'm a wreck. Tomorrow will probably be the opposite. I like the land, the trail and the flowers. My body will heal, sooner or later.
Friday, April 21: Fred Creek -- 17.5 miles + .6 (officially 32.2, not including side trips)
Last night, about 3:00 a.m., we heard a group of illegals, walking down the road past our campsite. A few got separated from the main group and were confused by the trail junction there. For 15 minutes, they ran around calling, "Mito, Mito" (presumably the name of their leader). Finally, they headed up the road again. I wasn't sure whether to call out and give directions or just stay silent and not call attention to our presence. While problems with illegals are rare, we didn't want to risk it, so we stayed silent.
We started the day with a big climb up to Lake Morena. It wasn't as bad as we expected since it was early in the morning, which was cool and foggy, and we were fresh. About 9:30 we reached the campground by the lake and decided to walk 1/3 of a mile to a little store/café. After getting soaked by mist all morning, a cup of hot coffee or chocolate sounded very welcome. We decided that breakfast was in order too, so we relaxed and enjoyed some delicious French toast before heading back to the trail. As we walked, the fog lifted and we could see Lake Morena far below us. The chaparral included a lot of manzanita, more lilacs and other wildflowers. Then we descended to Cottonwood Creek and ranch country. The oaks were huge, but so were the cows, who were more curious than frightened of us. They must be used to seeing hikers.
We had lunch at Boulder Oaks Campground in the shade of a big oak tree. It is actually a bit cold. We had heavy fog all morning, and now there are big black cumulus clouds surrounding us. It's better than yesterday's heat, but unexpected. A nice fisherman told us that thunderstorms are predicted for this afternoon. Some PCT hikers don't bother with a tent in the desert. I'm glad we have ours.
The campground is interesting because every site has a horse corral. It also has water, so made a good place to cook dinner. My ankle hurts, but not excruciatingly. I think Jim's knee hurts him more.
Later: The afternoon hike was interesting: winding up canyons high above flowing Kitchen Creek, then high above the desert. There were interesting rocks and what would have been good views except that the clouds rolled in again and turned the world grey and foggy. Parts of the trail reminded me of hiking in Tucson's Upper Sabino Canyon, with green cottonwood trees lining the rocky creek. We kept going and going as there weren't any flat spots along the trail and I wouldn't dare camp near the creek with thunderstorms about. Flash floods are not something to mess with, and Kitchen Canyon is quite narrow. We're camped in a grove of trees near a dry creek. It's six miles to the next water, but my feet wouldn't stand many more miles today. It's surprisingly cold. We're bundled up in long underwear and jackets. Odd, when yesterday was so warm. We never had any real rain today, just a foggy mist that managed to get us pretty wet.
Saturday, April 22: Laguna Campground — 15.5 + 0.4 miles (47.7)
We woke to the steady pitter patter of rain on the tent, so we rolled over and went back to sleep for a little while. The rain eased as we were packing up, but the clouds and fog remained for another hour and a half. Even after that burned off, there was a cold wind. We climbed up into the pines atop the Laguna Mountains, after a brief stop to get water at Long Creek. We dropped off the trail to come into “town” for food. Mt. Laguna is a tiny resort, with a lodge, restaurant, small store and post office. There was a trail that took us straight from the PCT to the lodge, passing a couple of cabins. The post office was closed, so we were unable to read the register to see which hikers had passed this way recently, but the store manager said there had been quite a few in the past week. We had lunch at the Blue Jay Lodge. Hamburgers on the grill, beer on the table — life is good!
After lunch we ended up only walking five more miles to the Laguna Campground. I hate paying to camp, but they have a hot shower, which felt wonderful. Another PCT hiker, Emily, aka Bugbite, is camped with us. We had met her at a long distance hiker Gathering a couple of years ago and she also knows a friend of ours whom she met on a southbound AT hike in 1998. The campground is noisy, but we are sore and tired, ready for an early stop. The views were nice this afternoon. The tall trees atop Mt. Laguna didn’t last nearly as long as I had expected. We returned to chaparral country pretty quickly.
Easter Sunday, April 23: Chariot Canyon — 16.3 + 0.4 (64.0)
It was a sunny day with a cool wind. We met another PCT hiker named Peter Haskell. He is from Houston and has Parkinsons. It makes trail life very difficult for him since everything takes such a long time with his limited mobility. Just packing up in the morning takes him hours. He's hiking seven or eight miles a day, right now. I admire his grit, though I doubt he’ll finish the trail. Still, he started it, and that’s what counts. Most people would just say, "I can't."
As we walk, we have a nice view northward toward snowy San Jacinto and San Gorgonio peaks. We can see where we’ll be hiking for the next two weeks, more or less. We saw a black and white striped snake this morning. I'm a bit paranoid about rattlesnakes in the brush. Peter saw one on his first day. We passed a water cache with about 40 plastic jugs. In many parts of the trail in southern California where water is a problem, concerned trail angels put out water for the hikers. Most people welcome the water, though a few prefer the challenge of carrying large amounts of water through the dry sections. I dislike carrying water for 20 or 30 miles, (it’s heavy!) so we welcome the caches when we find them. Unfortunately, you never know for sure where they'll be, or if the water jugs will be full or empty when you get there. They're a bonus, but can't be counted on. We're hoping for one tomorrow in the infamous Scissors Crossing to Barrel Spring section. It's a hot and dry 24 miles between water sources. That's a long way, this early in the trail. Walking in the sun is getting to me. It's fairly cool in the shade, but there isn’t much shade.
The trail winds around the canyons through dense brush. There are lots of flowers: yuccas, Spanish bayonet, blue spring beauty, a red flowering tree, lilac and many more. I know only a few of the flowers, mostly those I saw in the Sonora Desert near Tucson. It's frustrating knowing so little.
We took a long lunch break in a shady grassy spot, which helped my mood a lot. I get hypnotized by the sun and the endless contours around the ridges. We're making progress, but slowly. I don't like walking on automatic pilot. Half an hour of food, water, and rest helped us keep going.
We stopped early for the night since there is a small stream about ¼ mile up the canyon and the next few miles will be more contouring around a mountain, so campsites are likely to be scarce for a while. The next water is 14 miles away, and that is sort of iffy — the infamous Scissors Crossing. The guidebook says it’s "contaminated by cattle", but considering what we drank on the CDT, I'm not worried. That's why we carry a filter.
We saw a lot of people today, but then, it was a Sunday. There was a lady on a horse, two others at a trailhead saddling up their horses, three on motorcycles at an overlook, and two men hiking together, one with a backpack and one without. Emily and Peter joined us at the campsite. We had a nice visit. She hiked the AT southbound two years ago. This year she only plans to hike for a couple of months before heading to Colorado to start a doctoral program in chemistry. Peter consults on organizational development. He said his wife totally opposes his desire to thruhike, though an article in the Houston Chronicle calling him "an inspiration" helped a little to reconcile her to his absence. He had done two and three week hikes in the past, but never anything this ambitious. I can't imagine trying to do a hike like this without the wholehearted support of my partner. It is hard enough as it is, with support.
Monday, April 24: @ 18.5 miles (82.5)
It has been a hot day, winding through desert and chaparral. There are lots and lots of wildflowers. One burned hillside was covered with purple phacelia and other flowers. Prickly pear and hedgehog cactus sport bright pink blooms. Agaves raise white candle-like spires. Brittlebush and globemallow, paintbrush and lupine, thistles and white poppies create a rainbow trail. Because of the heat, we took a long two-hour lunch break, then went on to Scissors Crossing. San Felipe Creek flows through the valley and is lined with tall willows and cottonwood trees. It is nice in the shade.
We met some more thru-hikers there: Steve from Lexington, Kentucky, and Garey (aka Terminal Man) from Santa Rosa, who has terminal cancer. He was told in 1997 that he had one year to live. In 1999 his wife told him to go do the PCT, since it was a long-time dream of his. He still has the cancer, but would rather be out here than undergoing more chemo that can only slow, but not stop, the spread. He really seems to be enjoying himself anyway. His nephew and a friend (Jonathan and Ryan) are hiking with him. They walked several miles down the road to a little store to pick up beer and water, then collapsed in the shade. Like us, they were all waiting for the day to cool off before continuing up into the hills.
The trail crosses the shallow creek, then switchbacks up a mountain, contouring for several miles along the canyons of the San Felipe Hills. It is very hot and exposed, so we decided to cook dinner in the shade of the cottonwoods, then head up the hill in the "cool" of the evening. We hiked until 7:30, then found a tiny ledge below the trail to lay out our sleeping bags. On the climb, we saw more blooming cactus: barrel cactus and ocotillo. It was nice walking, but slow. There was little sense of making any real progress.
Tuesday, April 25: Barrel Spring -- @ 19.5 miles (101.9)
We had another long lunch in the shade, stopping early since we were totally beat. Walking in the sun gets really debilitating. I end up feeling a little dizzy after a while. Either that or I get in zombie mode. I'm not sure whether we count as mad dogs or Englishmen out in the noonday sun. We woke early, but not early enough to escape the heat for more than a couple of hours. By 10:00 it was at least in the mid-eighties. We found a water cache put out by the Sierra Club that gave us a chance to take a break and drink up. It was still 11 miles from there to the next spring, but we had enough water, especially with our long midday break. We've climbed above the cactus, for the most part. I enjoyed seeing all the blossoms. Chaparral is different. We napped in the meager shade of a bush and read for about two hours, then walked an hour, then rested another hour, then finished the last five miles to a nice campsite near Barrel Spring. It’s a piped spring in a grove of oak trees, very peaceful. There are a couple of turkeys rustling in the brush, not afraid of us at all. A hummingbird hovers over us, checking us out.
Another PCT hiker, Greg, showed up with a wild tale of being stalked in the dark last night at Chariot Canyon. He abandoned some gear when he ran through the brush to a line cabin nearby. He said that the bad guys tried all night to get into the cabin. At dawn he was able to escape and find a sheriff, who went looking for the people who stalked him, then drove Greg up the road to this campsite. The odd part (to me) was that there were no obvious scratches on him, despite playing cat and mouse in heavy chaparral in the dark. He’s an ex-marine; maybe he’s just tougher skinned than I am
As we hiked today, we saw a naked man walking up the trail. (He did carry a sarong over his shoulders, which he put on when he saw us.) Earlier we met two day-hikers who were doing a 20 mile round trip to add water to the water cache. Trail angels! In some ways the San Felipe Hills weren't as bad as expected. Definitely hot and dry, but doable, even if the water cache hadn’t been there. I’m glad it was though.
Wednesday, April 26: Lost Valley Spring — 19.6 + 1.5 miles (120.5)
We had a nice walk into the village of Warner Springs across open grassy meadows, covered in golden poppies and cows, then along the Canada Verde, a small stream lined with huge oak trees. Warner Springs is a small resort town, where we picked up our mail (first food drop), made a couple of phone calls, ate lunch at the Golf Club Grill, and drank a gallon of Gatorade We finally walked out of town two hours and $40 later. We met two more thruhikers, Guy and Kerstan, as well as Emily again. They were all missing their food drops, though their drift boxes, containing essential but non-edible resupply items, were there. The mini-mart at the gas station was pretty limited for resupply, and the hiker box was empty, so they had to make do with rice and cookies. The woman at the post office said there had been several other boxes missing already, and it is still early in the season.
We walked along the highway through town, then climbed up a pretty creek for a couple of miles, with nice views of a mountain (Hot Springs Mountain?) above the cottonwoods. There is a big fire burning to the north. It was weird. We were sitting eating lunch when I looked out the window over Jim’s shoulder and saw a huge black cloud of smoke, just north of town. Oh oh. At the gas station we were told that it is a "controlled" burn of 500 acres. It looks bigger than that.
We had a good climb from town to our campsite ten miles away. We stopped for a brief dip in Aqua Caliente Creek. We kept crossing it, and finally it was just too inviting to pass up. There were some nice campsites down near the water, but this next section has water located at odd distances, so we wanted to cover more miles today to set the section up right. It was an enjoyable walk all day, through meadows, over streams, with lots of new flowers, ribbonwood (like a hairy manzanita), and good trail. Nicest was discovering that the spring at Lost Valley Spring was flowing, though the guidebook says that it may be dry. Smoke from the fire created a lovely orange sunset. Life is good.
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