Week six began a bit precariously, but ended in celebration. We crossed both the 600 and 700 mile markers this week, and we officially completed the desert section of the Pacific Crest Trail, which we couldn’t be happier about. A huge change of environment is coming next week, and we say “Bring it on, Sierras!”.
We left the comforts of Tehachapi for the trail early Monday morning after gorging ourselves on one final continental breakfast at the Best Western. Our packs were terribly heavy with a six day food supply and five liters of water. We were headed into the final desert section of the trail, which also happens to be the most remote, have the longest water carries, and, unbeknownst to us, would also be the hottest section of trail up to this point. As per usual after a zero, the trail greeted us with a big climb. Between our sumo-sized packs and winds so strong they pushed us backwards, that climb took every bit of strength we could muster. As the day went on, my pack only felt heavier and I became increasingly desperate to get to camp. We typically hike within a few hundred yards of each other, but Chris saw my despair and gave me the go-ahead to get moving. I practically ran the remaining five miles to our campsite, nearly buckling under the weight of my pack with each stride. When I finally arrived to camp, I didn’t waste a single second throwing my backpack to the ground. Ahh finally some relief! We’d heard there was a bull in the area, but we didn’t realize he considered our campsite his home. There was bull crap everywhere. I scooched a few piles aside making room for our tent, and Amy and Paul’s. Paul built a bull guard out of sticks and stones around our site, which made us feel safe enough despite the bull charging a hiker only a couple days prior. Lucky for us, we had no run-ins with the bull.
The next day we climbed high enough to leave the exposed desert and hike through pine forests. It was such a relief to be out of the direct sun and heat, but it wouldn’t last long. The following couples days were a nearly-waterless scorching hell. Thankfully, a few trail angels maintain water caches throughout this section. We truly don’t know how we would have done it without them. God bless you, water cache angels. At one point we had a 20 mile stretch without a drop of water along the trail, so we each had to carry five liters. At another point, we should have been carrying five liters each but weren’t. We had a 15 mile stretch between two water caches. In between them there was absolutely nothing except miles of uphill trail covered in sand looser than the sand up by the dunes at the beach, ridiculous heat, and a handful of Joshua trees. We made it about halfway before diving under the shade of the biggest Joshua tree we could find that wasn’t already occupied by other boiling hikers. It only continued to get hotter, and eventually we realized we’d drink all of our water while sitting there, since it was still hotter than Satan himself, if we didn’t just make a run for it. We packed our stuff, shared a Liquid IV, and took off up the mountain of sand. A couple hours later the next water cache was in sight - thank god, because we were black on water, depleted of electrolytes, and plagued by nausea and headaches. We’d learned our lesson. Until we finished the desert section of the PCT, we’d get up way too early and knock out the majority of our miles before it got crazy hot. Our alarms rang at 2:30am. Eight or so hours later we were at the Walker Pass campground where we hung out with our trail-friends the rest of the afternoon, eating fresh fruit and Oreos and drinking cold beer dropped off by trail angels.
Two long days and 50 miles later we were welcomed into Kennedy Meadows with hoots and hollers and a standing ovation. And damnit, we deserved it! All the other hikers who’ve made it to Kennedy Meadows gather on the porch of The General Store to eat real food, enjoy some well-earned drinks, and celebrate each hiker who rolls in for walking 700 miles through the desert. Kennedy Meadows is the official end of the desert section of the PCT and the official beginning of the Sierra section. For the next 300 miles we’ll be hiking through the Sierra Nevada mountains. Chris claims he won’t miss a doggone thing about the desert. As for me, I’ll miss the horny lizards, but that’s about it. I finally caught one this past week. I’ve been trying for one since the first day on the trail, and one of the very last ones we saw I was able to snatch up. It wasn’t much of a chase though; he let me pick him right up as it was early in the day and he was just beginning to thaw from the chilly night. I held him for a while, and even as he warmed up he seemed totally content in my hand. When I finally lay him gently back on his sunny rock, Chris gave him a few soft strokes down his back. I swear to god the little guy smiled from ear to ear.
We hitched a ride in the bed of a pickup truck to Grumpy Bear’s Retreat where we’d spend the next three nights and two days preparing for the Sierras, both mentally and physically. We ate and drank to our hearts’ content. Everything they serve at Grumpy Bear’s kitchen is huge and delicious, to include, for breakfast, elephant-sized bottomless pancakes that were fluffy as a bunny and topped with maple syrup and a big ole dollop of whipped butter. We took a handful of much needed showers (unfortunately, most of them cold) and did laundry. We resupplied and purchased some gear for the mountains at Triple Crown Outfitters - a storage container packed with all the Sierra essentials. Outside of the store there’s a large canopy secured to the ground with massive metal tent stakes. Amy took an unfortunate step directly into one of them and degloved a couple inches of her shin, millimeters at most from her bone. She’s as tough as they come though. We cleaned it out and bandaged it up, and apparently it only “stings a little”. We opened our second resupply box that my momma sent - thanks mom! We played games, hung out with our trail friends, met new friends, cheered hikers into Kennedy Meadows, and we slept in a yurt for two nights. The yurt was without water or power, but the king size bed made it well worth the $60 per night - we were desperate for a break from our sleeping mats.
Before we knew it we were back in the pickup truck headed towards the trail. It was just the two of us this time. We’d be headed into the Sierra Nevada mountains without Amy and Paul or any of our trail friends. Paul’s ankle was still painful and swollen and needed at least one more day to recuperate. The rest of our friends would head out later the same day or the following morning. While Chris and I enjoy each other’s company, it’s recommended to do the Sierra section as a group. Water crossings can be pretty hairy this time of year with all the snow melt - a group of people fording together has a much a better chance of a successful crossing than a single or double person. But all of our trail friends are fast and furious, and we’re sure we’ll see them soon!
Ten minutes after loading ourselves into the truck we were back on the PCT. We could see the Sierras in the distance. They looked fierce. Chris couldn’t wait to be within them. I, on the other hand, felt a bit leery. But off we went, humping up and into the mountains.
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