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Stopped at: Warner Springs Fire Station, mile 110.6 Miles today: 14.3
This morning I heard footsteps rustling around 5:00 am and knew it had to be ThaWookie and Island Mama passing through. I was expecting them to come through last night with headlamps, but they must have camped at the water cache last night. Since I was awake now, I quickly got up, packed, and headed out at 5:30 am attempting to beat the heat of the day for the next 7 or 8 miles to Barrel Spring, the next water source on the trail. Because I started the morning with .75 litres, I skipped brushing teeth and cleaning contacts to conserve as much water as possible.
It was quite a long ridgeline walk through the desert. About .75 miles from Barrel Spring, the scenery changed dramatically- no more pointy cactuses and short trees and shrubs of the past 40-50 miles, but grass and colorful flowers. A man who was doing a 5-year survey of the forest said, "The forest fire last year ended here at Barrel Spring." It was suspected a spark from a low flying National Guard helicopter ignited the fire. The lack of shade during the past few days made the walking more burdensome. Even when I was beat, I couldn't stop because there was no place to hide from the ever watching gaze of the sun.
Exhaustion and thirst were companions after walking 3 hours with only .75 litres to drink. I almost got horny when signs of water trickled down the trail. If I had started late in the morning, it would have been very miserable because it doesn't take long before the day heats up. Kevin had just walked away, and ThaWookie and Island Mama, who were leaving soon, were sitting under a tree a few feet from a concrete container with water from a pipe. The untreated water looked so delicious!
Finally, the 100th mile, which was elusive a couple of days ago because of ongoing leg problems. Start the celebration, ignite the fireworks, pop open the champagne! I looked around only to find I was alone with the birds and small animals. At least I made it after plenty of difficulties, that was reward enough.
I brushed teeth, wore contacts, and cherished the watering hole for 2 hours. It was beautiful to see the birds (including tiny hummingbirds) stop to take sips from the pool. Amazing how water attracts life. In the register, Sheila and Glenn had left a greeting for me, which took me by a good surprise- they must have skipped the woeful Scissors Crossing section to get ahead of me.
The path to San Ysidro Creek was back to the same plainness. Instead of desert vegetation, it was just yellow grass roasted by the sun's might. A herd of cows blocked off the narrow trail after Eagle Rock (rock formation which looked like an eagle). Bovines, even though they seem stubborn and slow, can actually be very fast if they charge. I wasn't quite sure what to do, if I waited for all of them to get off the path, it might be a while, but there was absolutely no shade in the oven-like setting.
Sometimes, I wondered if I was insane. I really didn't want to wait in the boiling temperature; therefore, I started heading towards the herd and sweet talked them into getting off the trail. "Honey, you need to let me pass," or "How are you beautiful?" I would say to some cows and "Coming through, coming through!" I raised my voice at others. Astonishly, they mooed and moved off the trail as I forged ahead slowly. Not getting trampled and killed by cows was a good thing. "Did I just address a cow with 'honey'?"
Ysidro Creek was a good stopping point at 12:45 pm, only 3.5 miles (plus another mile off the trail) from the town of Warner Springs. Huge trees provided nice shade adjacent to a running creek. I soaked my long sleeve shirt and put it on, and it was cold- especially cold after travelling 1.5 miles through a barren land where the grass was stained by the sun's influence. Till now, it has been a miserable trip of endurance, but nobody told me there would be cool shaded moments like this in the desert.
Just as I considered leaving, another herd of cows came down to the shaded stream, and probably thinking, "Who is this dude sitting on our food?" When I made a sudden move towards the backpack, one of the cows must have been startled. Suddenly, 3 big cows started walking fast towards me, while the startled cow moved away. These 3 must be the body guards of the herd and were evaluating how best to beat the living daylights out of me. Alright, I wasn't considering leaving anymore, I was leaving- now! Luckily, the 3 burly amigos did not follow. That was actually a scary experience, and to think it was so cool and quiet in the shade minutes ago.
The 2 miles before Highway 79 (to the town of Warner Springs) was utterly gorgeous with trees and grass lining the side of a long stream. The area would have been a nice place to have a zero day on the trail if there was a better resupply town than Warner Springs.
The town was a dead end unless hikers packed along their golf clubs. Warner Springs was a resort town with a population of 900, but only had food available from a small gas station and expensive resort restaurants. I had expected a town more like Juliann, where I could get a sandwich or pizza with sodas. I should have spent the 15-20 minutes walking the mile into town to hitchhike to another town. None of the hikers ahead of me today were here. At the gas station, I bought a 44 oz Dr. Pepper and an extra-large Snickers bar. I was completely out of food and planning to get off the trail for rest at least for 2 days.
Walking .75 miles back to the trail, I decided to hitchhike. Borrego Springs seemed like a good destination for no sensible reason other than it was a large enough town to resupply and hopefully had cheap room rates. After 30 minutes, a man, who was coming home from his construction job, in a grey Mazda truck stopped. He originally passed, but made a u-turn. "It's just too hot to be standing out there."
The ride only lasted 5 minutes since he was dropping me off at Highway S2 and continuing on to the town of San Ysabel. It turned out Berrego Springs was actually a very far ride from the trailhead. Because of the highways, I would probably need at least 2 more successful rides to make it there, and even then, I needed to get there before the businesses closed. Had I known anything about San Ysabel, I might have just gone there with the driver.
At the intersection of Highway 79 and S2, I used the call box to get information on alternative cities since Borrego Springs was still 16 miles away. I hadn't realized the call box was only for vehicle breakdowns, but with most everyone having a cell phone these days, I wonder why they were still operational. When the operator answered, I promptly asked "Which town is larger, Borrego Springs or San Ysabel?" and he replied, "We don't give directions." A comment later, I felt he didn't know much and my response probably didn't help the situation, "I didn't ask for directions, I'm asking which city is larger." He suggested I buy a map, and I just hung up. For just a brief moment I was upset, but I suppose it's my fault for being in this situation and using the call box.
Well, I would just stick to the plan and try to reach Borrego Springs. I went across the street and tried to get a ride going south on Highway S2, and the first car stopped! Things were already looking up after the bad phone conversation. Johnny, wearing his well worn work clothes, was driving home in his old grey Subaru. He's actually an engineer even though his trite clothing and vehicle made him look very blue-collarish. His wife was currently in India. Johnny's currently doing solar panel installations for some homes located at a hot springs in the mountains. "I come from a place with many transients, so I'm use to hitchhikers and don't have a problem picking them up." He introduced himself first as he dropped me off at Barrel Spring, the exact location I was at earlier. After the friendly ride, I felt much better about today, or what was left of it.
Barrel Spring wasn't a bad place to stay except I had no food. After a 5 minute attempt, Mitch, a outgoing man who owned his own small business, gave me a ride in his Ford truck. He was only going a few miles up the road, but I took the ride anyways even though the current spot was great for hitchhiking. Mitch was a rugged looking middle-age man wearing rugged work jeans and shirt to match his features. The short ride turned into the confession of a man's fall from grace.
Mitch had a sexual affair with a woman who had an old man (either boyfriend or husband). The husband discovered the excursions and accosted Mitch, but the confrontation did not erupt in violence. Eventually the man notified Mitch's wife of the extramarital affair, which contributed to their seperation. Denial of guilt on Mitch's part probably didn't help. Maybe he felt more comfortable to speak out on this after he realized I was older than I appeared. I wondered where and how to meet up with women like these.
The result was Mitch's wife moved out with their 2 children. He admitted, "I still love her, and want to have my family back." If she still loves him, I hope they can resolve their problems. It's very rare these days for seperated or divorced couples to resolve conflicts. The sexual rendezvous aside, I felt Mitch was a humble and decent guy from the things he expressed about family, integrity, and hard work. I even believed he was actually a wealthy man dressing down the part.
Suprisingly, in the short time he got to evaluate me, Mitch felt confident enough to offer me a place to stay on his property. Borrego Springs was still further ahead, and I felt I could make it before nightfall, and I was a little worried about the offer after he mentioned the neighbor. Stay or go, I would still have to hitchhike into town to resupply. When we parted ways, he offered a soda and an orange.
Dwelling in the secrets of people's lives was not what I expected when I set out to hike the PCT. Not only do I get plenty of time to contemplate on my own life and experience, but also briefly muse into the lives of others. Sometimes, it's easier to confess to an anonymous stranger whom you never expect to see again. Today was definitely a special learning experience, and it wasn't even over.
Marcus, a semi-retired construction driver, stopped in his green Jeep Wrangler with a brown soft top cover- my dream vehicle years ago. He and his wife were divorced, but they had 11 children together. Marcus retired 4 years ago and returned to work part time; however, since the company has been very busy of late, he's been working closer to full-time in the town of Lakeside, a 60-mile commute.
Marcus went out of his way to drive me around town. First, he drove to the grocery store, but it was closed. Then another grocery store about a mile away, but it was also close. Most of the businesses close around 6:00 pm. Then at my request, he dropped me off at Junior's, a small family restaurant at the edge of town. I offered a couple of dollars for gas or to buy something at the restaurant, but he declined, "I know someday, I will need a favor." Hitchhiking has been very good for me today, but what did I do to be blessed today?
The Wednesday Special at Junior's was $1.50 hamburgers, which were actually pretty decent. Decent enough I ordered 3 to eat and 3 for takeout. The nice lady attendant said the rural bus comes at 8:00 am in the morning for rides to El Cajon. I was planning on checking out some of the other small towns heading towards San Diego if room rates were too expensive around here.
An 18-year old guy chatted with me briefly and was very surprised when I told him I was 32. He thought I looked 18 years old. Just about everyone I met has thought I was around 20.
By 8:00 pm, the town practically shutted down. The lady at Junior's and Marcus both said the Oasis motel across the street was presumably the cheapest in town, and this was also off-peak season. Around 8:20 pm, I walked across the street to find the office just closed. Now, I had no place to stay except Anza-Borrego State Park, over a mile away.
The campground at the state park seemed to be the only alternative to the motels. There didn't appear to be any good places to stealth camp, and it was well dark to search for a place. The 1.5 mile to the entrance was extremely painful on the right ankle; however, the left knee felt decent. Every step seemed like pounding a slab of meat into ground beef. The tent camping sites were $13.00, but the tent campsite was closed for construction. The developed sites were $19.00. Forget that! "I could stay in the campground and leave super early and not pay the overpriced $19.00," I reasoned.
I sat there for a while, resting my right leg and wondering what the heck I was going to do tonight. I got some water and decided to head back towards town in the dark and just camp in the desert. I ended up caming in a privately owned desert field adjacent to the park and about 100 yards from the road. (The propery was most likely privately owned since it had a real estate for-sale sign on it). Because of snakes and scorpions, it was best to set up the tent even though it was amazingly hot at 10:00 pm. Even after setting camp and just sitting around, I had an unquenchable thirst and kept sweating. I went to bed at 11:00 pm after an amazing roller coaster day. Looks like hamburger for breakfast tomorrow.
Next Day to Las Vegas or Skip to May 27, 2003 for continuation of PCT
