Previous Day Next Day Journal Home Gear List Home
Stopped at: 90 feet bridge, mile 299.8 Miles today: 23.5
At 6:10 am, George was about to take a ride from Kip out to the trailhead on Van Deusen Road. Even though I didn't sleep well last night, I decided I should take this opportunity to return to the trail with the leftover pizza for food. I asked if they could wait about 30 minutes, and Kip was agreeable, but George was itchy to return to the trailhead since he's an early starter.
I broke camp in a record 20 minutes, but didn't brush teeth, which I would do at the trailhead since there was water available from a creek. I would be hiking with glasses until I could buy new contact solution.
We packed into the Ford Explorer with our gear riding on the metal platform connected to the hitch. I didn't get to say much to Kip last night because it was late, but this morning, I learned he was a very socialable fellow as he mentioned his goals of travelling this year. I was also quite shocked he has been married 4 times! Even though my stay in Big Bear City was brief, it's good to know there were trail angels who will assist and accept hikers.
Stay High and Michelle were coming along also. They were going to slack pack backwards (north-south) from Van Deusen Road to where they were picked up yesterday on Highway 18. Then they would return for another night at Kip's Place. We didn't leave until almost 7:00 am, and I was sure George was already anxious to start hiking.
By 7:15 am, we were all at the trailhead after passing it minutes earlier. George immediately started northbound, while Stay High and Michelle went southbound. I headed for the creek water on the trail to filter water.
One of the $1.25 compression straps for the tent stuff sack was missing this morning when leaving Kip's Place. This bothered me most of the morning as though wondering if the backdoor at home was locked before leaving- not because it was a buck and a quarter, but it was part of my gear. How could I have been so careless? I haven't lost anything till now.
Maybe it was the lack of sleep and the huge amount of walking yesterday, but I was trudging as though the shoes were covered in mud. I sat down and ate a slice of Dominoe's pizza, then started moving again. Fifteen minutes later, I was shooting down the trail at high velocity. Whatever narcotics Dominoe's cooked in their pizzas, it made me rocket like a Concorde airliner.
Motorcycles were prohibited on the Pacific Crest Trail; however, I had to make way for a group of cyclists coming in the opposite direction. Their engine noises were very noticable in the placid wilderness as though someone screaming in a library. At some trailheads, I did notice the "prohibit motorcycle" signs missing (or possibly removed), which was probably how they circumnavigated the law.
Further down the trail, I met Julia and Jim, who was designated honorary lifetime Guardians of the PCT by the Pacific Crest Trail Association of PCTA [web link]. They were a very nice elderly couple who appeared to enjoy being on the trail on this fine Saturday afternoon. Peter and their daughter Vanessa were jogging down the trail somewhere behind them. Jim said he's going to tell them what's up when he encountered them. I asked them to be careful, but it looked like the motorcyclists were the ones who needed to worry.
I encountered both Peter and Vanessa briefly as they jogged by. Vanessa's facial expression didn't show any surprise as I called her by first name as she whizzed by.
Little Bear Spring trail camp did not have running water from the valve, but did have water from a trough with a sign reading, "Do not drink." The camp had one picnic table, a small corral, but most importantly, plenty of shade. My hip was feeling sore as if a muscle was rubbing against a bone, especially on decents; therefore, I decided to hang around for an hour and take a nap.
When I was about to leave, The Wizard (Marlon) trotted in looking for water. Jim and Julia had given him some water earlier. Marlon, a tall Air Force reservist, started at Interstate 10, where he left off last year. Last year he originated from Campo and made it to the Interstate 10 before his knee blew out from carrying as much as 3 gallons of water! I was completely aghasted when he explained the amount of water he stocked last year. Up till now, the most I've heard anyone carried was 6 litres. If I had to carry 3 gallons, I'd probably have 2 bad knees and a crushed back and wouldn't be able to crawl an inch.
It's good to know someone who left the trail the previous year had the determination to return the following year. I might share the same fate. Marlon appeared to be fairing much better this year, and he noticed the knee brace on my left knee. I confirmed it helped tremendously!
Because the terrain was fairly flat for the next 9 miles to Holcomb Crossing trail camp, I blazed there in just under 3 hours. I filtered some water and ate pizza when Marlon crossed the creek. He's a fast hiker.
Holcomb Crossing trail camp was actually packed with backpackers including George. This was where I had planned on possibly stopping today, but decided to head to the 90-feet bridge over running water because of the crowded conditions. Two miles before the bridge, the sand turned pink. I don't ever recall seeing pink sand.
Marlon had already set up his ground cloth and bivy and cooking dinner near the bridge as I arrived. I used a flat area, which Marlon had prepped earlier before he found a better spot. We chatted only briefly because the mosquitoes were out hunting with a vengeance. I suspected it was illegal to camp so close to the water.
Today was another good day: I didn't consider quitting the trail for once and just went along with the groove and easily hiked 24 miles. Pizza was cold, but it was food. I even started hiking without the knee brace at times and the left knee felt good. I even met a new thru-hiker- a new face- today. Things were definitely looking up.