Warner Springs to Idyllwild
Sunday, 4/23/00: In Which I Carry Water and the Day Hikers Carry On
I got started from the fire station by 7:30. Before I left I talked to Trynt about meeting me somewhere in the next week to hike together. We agreed I would call again from Idyllwild to see what might work.
That start of the hike was through cow pastures where I picked up another tick that I killed at the first stop. I also saw a couple of rabbits, rather apropos since this is Easter. Outside of cows, horses and people, they are the largest mammals I’ve seen so far. As it was pleasantly warm most of the day, I saw many lizards skittering away as I passed. I don’t want to mention the “s” word, but have seen none and hope to keep it that way.
The trail consisted of climbs interspersed with long stretches of level contours. I started the day at about 3000 feet in Warner Springs and ended it on the shoulder of Combs Peak (part of Bucksnort Mountain) at 5600 feet.
The amusement for the day was provided by a couple of day hikers who I noticed through the brush with their hiking shorts down enjoying one another on this fine Easter afternoon (clearly other things had risen besides Christ). I knocked my trekking poles loudly on the rocks and walked heavily so that by the time I rounded the corner into plain sight their shorts were back in hiking position and we were able to casually exchange pleasantries for a minute as if nothing had been happening 30 seconds before. Thruhikers never engage in such behavior because they are too tired and it is too messy.
This was another largely waterless section. I carried water for 10 miles, where I filled up with five quarts to last until mid-morning tomorrow. When I fill up tomorrow it will also have to last another 24 hours. It really adds to the work, carrying ten pounds of water, but it is better than being thirsty.
It is getting cool and windy here on the side of the mountain, so I am going to brush, floss and get ready for a long sleep. I'm usually in the sleeping bag 9 to 10 hours every night (the dark hours since my 2/3 ounce flashlight is only for emergencies). I tend to wake up often. I hope eventually I can sleep more soundly.
Monday, 4/24/00: In Which I Wander Through the Desert, Glimpse the Promised Land, and See a Rattlesnake
Somehow I had the notion that I had seen the worst of the desert in the San Felipe Hills, but today’s trek matched that environment. I started the day going down until I finally got to the day’s lone source of drinkable water about 11. There I pumped six quarts (twelve pounds) of water to last me the next 25 miles. I also tried to wash up, a hopeless task, as I was just as dirty within the hour. From there it was mostly uphill, literally and figuratively.
I saw nary a soul all day. At one road crossing some kind person had left water, so I took a little and perused the weather forecast they also left. Forecast was from Sunday and predicted partly cloudy with temperatures in the 70's all week. As I was sitting under a cloudless sky and at least at 80 degrees I guess things have changed. I left a note thanking the person and went on.
At one point mid-afternoon I passed within a couple hundred yards of some fancy homes on a knoll in the desert. The Promised Land, I guess, for some lucky Americans, though how anyone could make economic or environmental sense out of such large houses with irrigated landscaping in the middle of the desert is beyond me.
While mulling this over, several minutes later I finally came upon a rattlesnake. It was disguised under some brush to the right of the trail and I did not see it until it started rattling as I drew near. I quickly moved past, then returned as close as I dared with my camera to get a picture. I hope it turns out! Those who expected me to set the timer and rush over by the snake to be in the photo will be sorely disappointed.
From there I crested the ridge and plunged down to Alkali Wash where I decided to make camp in the sand. A ruby-throated hummingbird was a good omen, but I poked in the brush and under rocks for snakes just to be sure. It is so warm that I am not going to pitch the tarp tonight.
Tuesday, 4/25/00: In Which I Try Snake-Flipping and Finally Make It to the Mountains
Sometimes you have to be careful you don’t get what you ask for. I got up in the morning, broke camp and climbed out of Alkali Wash then quickly descended to the Pines-to-the Palms Highway. Crossing that I came upon a trailhead sign for the San Jacinto Wilderness Area with all its high country. Out of the desert soon, I thought, and into the forest.
However, I had several miles trudging slowly uphill through more chaparral country. One of those steps almost landed on top of a foot-long rattlesnake lying across the trail. I quickly backed up, stomped my foot, rolled a couple of rocks over it, but it wouldn’t budge, just flick out its tongue at me. Finally, I reached out with the tip of my trekking pole and flipped it into the brush.
The water stop around noon was at Tunnel Springs, down a steep rock-strewn path. The trail stays close to the ridge top so there is very little water there (i.e., none), so getting water involves heading downhill up to a mile and lugging it back uphill.
In the afternoon I met a father-daughter combo from Portland on a day hike. This was at a trail junction, which is the first real junction I have seen, a sign I was getting into wilderness areas desirable to hike in. Up to now the PCT has been the only trail virtually everywhere in the desert. The woman (Marcy) was checking out the PCT in this area. She is planning to join her boyfriend and his father on the PCT near Big Bear City. They are starting from Campo in May.
The views along this section were potentially good, but the visibility was limited due to the smog. As an out-of-stater I have been politely trying to pretend the brown haze in all directions is a layer of clouds, but the truth is that it is pollution.
I would like to blame the air quality for my slow progress, but it was more likely that the rough rocky nature of the trail plus the mountain ups and downs which I had forgotten in my romanticizing of the high country that slowed me down. Anyway, I staggered downhill to my chosen stopping point (I try to go 20 miles per day) of Apache Springs about an hour later than I expected. The water was good (I filter all natural sources, of course, which is a time-consuming but necessary hassle) and the camping spot was reasonable.
As I got ready to go to bed (my usual 8 PM), I went off to the nearby ridge and looked east into the desert. The lights of Palm Springs and vicinity glared up through the filthy air (“We’ve got a thousand points of light for the homeless man”). I carefully dug a hole overlooking this cesspool of civilization in preparation for a mile-high political commentary in the morning.
Wednesday, 4/26/00: In Which While Wandering Lost in the Snow an Angel Appears, Hands Me a Bible Tract and Points Me in the Right Direction
I slept in until almost 6 AM, then got up to fill the previous evening’s hole, wipe and cover. After washing my hands of the matter and Palm Springs, I breakfasted, gathering the day’s stash of water and started back up to the trail.
It was a day of great views as I wound along a ridge heading north around several peaks over 7500 feet. Unfortunately I swung west about 11 AM on the north side of the ridge above 8000 feet. The combination of the shading and the altitude led to deeper and deeper snowdrifts. The trail would appear every 50 to 100 feet where the sun had melted the snow and there were footprints in the snow so the way was clear. My progress was slow, as I had to carefully place my feet in many locations lest I slide downhill to perhaps not a fatal but certainly an unpleasant landing.
After a couple of miles this I hit the trail junction I was looking for and looking over the diverging footprints headed in what I thought was the correct direction. About ten minutes later I was not so sure and was beginning to have visions of being lost I the snow, so decided to stop for a bite to eat and a map and compass check.
While not absolutely sure of my location or that of the trail, I figured out the direction I should go and was enjoying a snack when someone hailed. It was a local woman day hiking the trails for the USFS to report on their condition. Turns out I was right where I thought but it was nice to have confirmation and a path to follow (she was headed in the opposite direction).
She was interested in my hike and we talked a bit. As she was leaving, she remarked that I probably didn’t carry much reading material so handed me a Bible tract entitled, “Y2K: Will You Be Ready?” I thanked her and told her I would look at it when I got to the campground in Idyllwild (which I did — nothing new).
From there the going was fairly easy though I did get switched around at one switchback and went the wrong direction for a quarter mile. Eventually I got to Saddle Junction and began the 5-mile trek into Idyllwild, stopping part way there to clean up as best I could.
The town guide map I had was poor and it took a while to get to the Hike and Bike campsite at the San Jacinto State Park. Unfortunately my tent site is right by the state highway. Also the bathrooms and showers weren’t very clean, but I did get more presentable and made phone calls announcing my arrival.
Thursday, 4/27/00: In Which I Nearly Fritter Away My Resupply Day
Despite the traffic I slept in until 6:30. I walked into town after sorting gear and updating this journal. I got my food and drift boxes from the Post Office, bought an LA Times and went to the laundromat to wash clothes. I read the paper while there and then back at the campsite, though looking back there were only 2 items of note: scientific data showing a flat universe (substantiating the cosmological inflation theory) and the Blazers leading Minnesota 2-0 in the NBA playoffs.
After a leisurely lunch I finally got busy sorting food and gear in the drift box. It got so late I was in a last-minute rush to get back to the Post Office to mail the drift box to Tehachapi and film and miscellaneous stuff home.
But I got it done and made my last minute preparations for the arduous next leg. My biggest problem is blisters (two on each foot), so I switched to the larger shoes in the drift box in hopes of clearing that problem up. There are also mosquitoes here, which I hope is not a sign of what is to come in the next few days.