Agua Dulce to Tehachapi
Monday, 5/15/00: In Which I Hike 25 Miles Through the “Hottest and Driest” Section Because It Is Too Cold To Stop
After a last shower, breakfast and cleaning up the trailer I said, “thank you and goodbye” to Donna and Jeff. With food and water I was once again lugging a 40+ pound pack out into what the guidebook thinks is the hottest and driest section—one that negotiates the edge of the Mojave Desert.
From my perspective it was no drier than other sections—just typical chaparral with trees and poison oak in any ravine with a little water. The day started out pleasant: cool with a few clouds—good hiking weather. As the day wore on the clouds thickened, the wind picked up and the temperature dropped.
After about 23 miles I arrived at a picnic area with water at a forest service fire station. I had planned to stay near there but it was so cold and windy that I pushed on because hiking helped keep me warm. A couple of miles later and over the ridge somewhat out of the wind I bedded down on the trail, hoping the thickening clouds did not signify rain tonight.
Tuesday, 5/16/00: In Which I Continue To Freeze My Butt Off
I awoke in the fog—at least the wind wasn’t blowing. It was too cold to dawdle, so I was off by 6:30 for more of the same—up and down and around canyons full of chaparral.
In afternoon I got above 5000 feet, but the wind and clouds were worse. Hell, it even started to sprinkle. After what seemed like an eternity hiking along this higher ridge, I finally began to drop towards what I hoped was a HOT desert. But I was tired (another 25-mile day), so decided to make camp on a knoll with some trees to slow the wind.
Not a good decision as they barely slowed the wind. I managed to get the tarp up and eat a cold dinner of crackers and hummus (lighting a fire for the stove would have been impossible). By this time I was shivering, so quickly cleaned up, brushed my teeth and headed for the only warm spot for miles—my sleeping bag.
Wednesday, 5/17/00: In Which The Sun’s So Hot I Froze To Death (Or Almost Blew There)
I awoke in the fog/clouds again. While it wasn’t raining per se, every time the wind gusted it blew drops on the tarp, which was soaked. Fortunately I had put everything under the tarp (a tight squeeze) so nothing was too wet.
I packed as quickly as I could and finished my descent of Mt. Liebre. Sure enough, by the time I was down another 2000 feet the weather, if not great, was at least milder—clouds with sun and light wind. Here I began the famous 7-mile circumnavigation of the Tejon Ranch, a huge tick-raising operation with the political clout to keep the PCT on a circuitous route along its borders rather than through the Tehachapi Mountains as Congress had voted. I picked up a couple of their ticks right away, but did not run into any of the cattle they use as hosts.
At Highway 138 I stopped at the house of Jack Fair, a man kind enough to allow PCT hikers access to his water but also one whom I had been led by insinuation to believe would not make this a typical water stop. The water was from the hose, which is ok because I’ve seen worse, but what really struck you about this place were the signs, which were everywhere—on the house, garage, water tank, etc. I believe they represented Jack’s insights and philosophy and ranged from the belligerent to the cryptic. Several commented on others’ opinions of his sanity, which no doubt everyone who read these signs had to wonder about. I wasn’t sure about the etiquette here, but as the shades were drawn I chose not to ring the doorbell and thank Jack. No doubt an interesting conversation was missed, but I had miles of aqueduct to hike.
Shortly after leaving here I hit the open California Aqueduct (the wind was so strong there were whitecaps on the water) and followed it for a mile until it met the Los Angeles Aqueduct. It was in a buried pipe and I followed its adjacent road the rest of the day, as this is the PCT route here since the Tehachapis are off-limits.
This is the famous hot, dry section of the PCT (it is only about 20 miles, but the way people carry on you’d think it took a week to cross) and I took the de rigueur picture of me panting beneath a Joshua tree. By afternoon the wind dropped to 10-15 MPH and it was about 70 degrees—downright pleasant. An occasional local drove past with a friendly wave and one even offered water, which I politely refused since I was toting plenty. About 3 I ran into Adam (Last Exit) who left the Saufleys’ the night before me. He was lounging under a Joshua tree resting. We chatted a few minutes (he had a ride Thursday at 7 worked out to a motel in Mojave) and I went on expecting he would catch up later.
I was trying to make it to the next water in Cottonwood Canyon, which was 27 miles from where I started today, but realize this is mostly flat dirt road hiking—not real difficult. What became difficult was the wind, which was now at least 30 MPH with gusts over 50 MPH that left me lurching like a drunk.
About 5:30 I stopped in the shelter of a 2-foot high aqueduct maintenance block and tried to cook dinner. Even with the protection it took 5 minutes to light the Esbit tablet and even a 2 nd once the water never boiled, though the corn pasta softened enough to eat. Through the whole meal my windbreaker was snapping—hardly a respite.
So I staggered on another half mile to the bridge with the water supposedly from a pipe from the aqueduct. I was so cold/flustered by the wind (it was probably in the 50’s but the wind chill felt like sub-freezing) that it took me 15 minutes to find water. There was still an hour or so of light but looking ahead I saw no ridges to shelter me from the wind, so decided to stay there in a lower, slightly sheltered area. To give an idea how windy it was I had one end of my sleeping bag held down by a half-gallon of water, which it flung off easily. I had to lay in it to keep it in place, which I soon did.
Thursday, 5/18/00: In Which I Find My Way Through Dirt Bike Hell
Morning brought only a light breeze, which made me eager to be on my way. Within a mile I left the roads I had been tramping on for good. I was glad to get back to trail tread, back to “real” hiking. What a fool I was!
The area I was hiking through was the Mecca of off-road vehicles in the area. I’d tried to be tolerant. After all, what could be more American than grinding ruts up and down the hills, shooting the signs full of holes, running over Joshua trees that had grown there for centuries, throwing garbage all over the place, etc. Being a weekday (or being lucky), I blessedly didn’t have to listen to this mayhem, just view the results.
However, beyond the aesthetic and environmental pollution I had a bigger problem—finding the trail among the maze of ruts going every which way. The BLM had done a good job of putting up PCT signs but the dirt bikers had done an equally good job of destroying them, so I was constantly stopping and checking the map to make sure I was headed properly. Of course, the signs also told the motorized vehicles to stay off the PCT, which only seemed to spur them on to ride there, annihilating the trail on steep canyon walls and digging ruts in the flatter areas.
The views were interesting as I climbed out of the desert and over 6000 feet into the Tehachapis. As I neared the end of the day (which had been a nice one—warm with winds only up to 20 MPH) and approached the Tehachapi Pass area, wind generators began appearing. After yesterday’s winds I was a bit discouraged by this sight, but my campsite near a creek, while windy, was nothing like the previous ones. I was able to wash up, enjoy dinner and go to bed without feeling like I was driven there for protection from the weather. The odd thing was Adam never showed up to get his ride, which concerned me slightly, but there was really nothing I could do as he may have taken another way out and hitchhiked there.
Friday, 5/19/00: In Which I Walk Through the Wind Farms and Hitch Into Tehachapi
I slept well and got off to an early start, having only about 10 miles to do before I headed into town for rest and resupply. Almost the entire hike was in around and through various types of wind generators, most noisily humming away in the morning breeze. The last mile or so was down through a pasture where a Brahma bull (or some hybrid thereof) bolted at a sight like me.
I cleaned up a little with my remaining water in the bushes along the railroad tracks, then hiked a mile and a half along the tracks to a local road (the guidebook said rides were hard to get on the adjacent freeway). On the road the first pickup by picked me up and gave me a ride to the motel he recommended. After a shower I headed off to the Post Office—2 miles away across the railroad tracks, past the industrial park, past bare land, across the freeway and then ¼ mile up the hill. In this ridiculous site 2 miles from town was an ultramodern PO with a special store. The clerk was friendly and I retrieved both my food and drift boxes and trudged back to town. Then I headed two miles in the other direction to get to the shopping center to buy food for my two-night stay. The only good news in all this was the motel had a small Laundromat so I didn’t have to go chasing across town to wash clothes.
I used the microwave in my room to fix a meal and got to bed early as usual. Of course, I called home and got all the latest news including another Shadden Claim annexation defeat.
Saturday, 5/20/00: In Which I Walk the Town Again and Watch the Blazers Lose
I sorted my gear carefully, made the selections for the next 10 days, and then prepared the drift box to be mailed home. Then it was another fun trek to the PO. On the way back I went to the nearby ATM, which was closed for remodeling, as was the other bank in the area.
So I went home and watched the Blazers lose to the Lakers in the first game of their series. Then it was off to the other ATM in the shopping center the other way. On the way back I stopped at the Kern County Library that I happened to find and inquired as to the local population. Turns out it is about 8,000 people, sprawled in an area probably bigger than McMinnville (approximately 25,000). There are hundreds of acres of vacant land in the areas I had to walk through to get to the Post Office and the shopping center. And the main roads I had to walk on to get anywhere were 2-lane narrow roads with no sidewalks and limited shoulders. Yet some of the subdivision streets are 100 feet wide with 5-foot sidewalks on each side. A planning nightmare.
Back at the motel I ate again and got stuff ready to go. In the day plus I was here I managed to eat the following: 3 dozen tortillas, 2 pounds of refried beans, 1 pint of cottage cheese, 1 quart of milk, 1 pound of tofu, 1 and ½ pounds of salad, 2 pounds of Tillamook cheddar and a pint of ice cream. Well, actually I am carrying 4 tortillas with beans and cheese for lunch tomorrow, but it gives you some idea of what a thruhiker can consume in town.