Previous Day Next Day Journal Home Gear List Home
Stopped at: Fuller Ridge, mile 188.3 Miles today: 8.1
This morning I had to get up early before someone caught me sleeping on the side of the trail where hikers are prohibited to skirt because of the fragile soil. Luckily, last night I found a hard surface where no plants were growing. Surprisingly, I crossed 3 groups of early birds, whom I would encounter again returning to the trail.
At the park, Harmon Park, leading up to the trail, there were a suprisingly large amounts of vehicles. I asked a couple of people for directions because I had expected some sort of highway at this point, but there wasn't one, the road continues through the park and connects with the town proper.
Because it seemed like an affluent residential road, I started the 2-3 mile town trek instead of hitchhiking, and I felt timid about hitchhiking again. The only reasons I needed to visit Idyllwild was resupplying groceries and replacing old shoes. After walking a mile from the park, a green minivan stopped, and Carrie offered, "Do you need a ride into town?" Flushed with weary, but hidden joy, I exclaimed, "Please!"
The other 2 passengers in the minivan were Dorothy and Tykoso. Carrie said, "We saw you as we were heading up the road to the park." They were a very decent group of women, and we discussed the nature of small towns like Idyllwild. Idyllwild was a cozy little town where they purposely keep small and disallow big businesses. Funny, I wasn't expecting a ride, but got picked up by a pretty young lady. Carrie dropped me off at the grocery store, where she said many hikers stopped.
One of the attractions of Idyllwild is not the town itself, but Lily, an internationally rated mountain for mountain climbers. Many climbers practice here before proceeding to the mountains in Yosemite National Park.
It was 9:00 am, and the grocery store was suppose to be open for business, but the doors were still locked; therefore, I headed across the street to get the $4.25 breakfast special at Jo Ann's Restaurant. Service was very slow because staff was short. My feelings were torn between being in the right place, but also like I was a drifter through town- as if I belonged among the visitors, yet somehow different than everyone else. I wished some other hikers were in town.
The pizza restaurant was in the main shopping center.
Back at the expensive grocery store, I withdrew money from the ATM and bought more than enough food to make it to the town of Cabazon. I even indulged in a gigantic Hersey almond chocolate candy bar- tonight I will be eating well after the hungerfest yesterday night. For the road, I grabbed a 1-litre bottle of orange juice.
The next stop was Nomad Adventures at the edge of town. I promised myself I would chunk my current hiking shoes at the first possible opportunity. $112.02 later, I had a pair of 10.5 (half size larger than my usual size) Lowa Tempest low-tops and a new Platypus 2-litre collapsible bottle with drinking nozzle. Ages ago, I promised myself never to spend an outrageous amount for a pair of shoes, and here I just shelled out $85.00 for a set- and it wasn't even my size. (With this much feet pounding, it was probably best to buy a half size larger.) Promises are just handcuffs we eventually find the keys to release. As for the old 2.4-litre duct taped Platypus, it will be utilized as a backup.
Bruce was the manager of this Nomad Adventures, one of four, in southern California. This year has seen late snow in the area, and Bruce assessed, "Many hikers in April and early May were not prepared for the cold weather, and I sold a ton of stuff to them." I was prepared for the cold by bringing an Arc'Tyrex Delta polartec jacket, thermal pants, and a polyester undershirt, but he still hijacked my money.
It was just past noon, and I didn't want to stop for the day at the state park, which only charged $2.00 for hikers. The only person who might be there would be the hiker about 2 hours ahead yesterday. The need to make the miles so I could finish by October 1st became troublesome. I roadwalked back to the trailhead with new shoes in hand.
About a mile from the park which leads to Saddle Junction, a sign in a lawn offered rides to PCT hikers- this sign took me by surprise. Tom and Pat Lovejoy are parents of Molasses [web page link], who is currently 8 days ahead. Pat drove me up to the park. I didn't hitchhike either directions, but received rides; I couldn't ask for much more!
At the park, it was another 2-3 miles to the PCT trailhead. The new shoes felt fine, and I tossed the old shoes in the trash; however, the insoles were saved in case the new shoes caused blisters. Pat had also recommended keeping the old shoe laces, which I thought was a good idea even though they were well worn.
The amount of day hikers through this area was amazing. Most of the time, we just quickly greeted and passed each other, but at times I was able to chat with folks. What was even more amazing was there were groups of youngsters camping overnight as though they didn't have to worry about the evil men do. The aurora of these mountains radiated a sense of peace and safety, although at times it appeared quite crowded. Another wonderful thing was some people drank directly from the streams; however, I didn't take any risks because one bad mouthful containing giardia could incapcitate me and ruin this backpacking adventure.
Even though I felt somewhat rediculous being the only one carrying an umbrella and looking like Mary Poppins1, some passers complimented it was a good idea, but others might be secretly gagging with laughter inside!
Nearing Saddle Junction, I yielded the right of way to volunteer fire watchers Tim and Jill coming downhill, and Tim commented, "I thought people going uphill (me) have the right of way." I replied, "I thought people going downhill have the right of way- I know with cars that's true since it's easier to reverse downhill than uphill."
Tim was the manager of the Nomad Adventures in Escondido and Big Bear and curiosly asked how Bruce treated me, and I said, "It was okay. Okay, as in nothing bad." Tim jokingly intended to give Bruce a difficult time when he and his wife reached town. His management of 2 stores and concern for customer satisfaction at the Idyllwild store made me wonder if Tim and Jill owned the 4 store chain.
After Saddle Junction, there were only a handful of day hikers and the trail at times was utterly incredible. I encountered a white hair, white beard man who I crossed this morning. We never formally introduced, but we chatted for 20 minutes- he feels very fotunate to be a music instructor and living in Idyllwild. Many day hikers would agree: this enchanted forest surrounded by desert was a great backyard.
Lastly, I met Rick Bowen and we talked briefly about the John Muir Trail in central California and the late snow fall in this area. He offered his .5 litre of water, but I had just filtered plenty of water for the evening hike to North Fork, the next water source.
I had no idea where exactly North Fork was located on the trail, but luckily, I found a relatively flat boulder next to a pouring stream surrounded by snow where I made camp at 8:00 pm. This place was eeriely flawless- huge rocks and trees ushering the mountain back while permitting the stream to flow freely forward. Just yesterday at this time, I was hungry and joyless, but tonight was backpacking amazement- an almost perfect moment on this trail. However, the only drawbacks were the ravenous mosquitoes and the potential of dead trees falling.
Had I abandoned the trail earlier, I would have missed this moment of solitude and bliss. Once I passed Saddle Junction and left most of the day hikers behind, I felt more at peace in the forest- this was the PCT I remembered. Every beautiful spot I could enjoy alone as though these mountains were created only for me. I never met the hiker who was just ahead at Apache Spring Trail yesterday
