Week Three Wrap-Up

Slow is fast.

Week three began with one of the most beautiful sunrises we’ve seen on the trail thus far. Shades of pink and purple and orange so beautiful it’s hard to comprehend, colors only the sky can produce. As the sun began to peek herself above the mountains, we did the ritualistic stretch and yawn combo we all do upon waking, then dove into our morning routine. It wasn’t long until camp was packed up, all of our belongings were secured to our backs, and we were off! To Mission Creek…

Mission Creek certainly gave us a run for our money, but overall we had a wonderful week three on the PCT!

The highs:

1. Family dinners continue. We camped with Amy and Paul every trail night of week two. Each night we’d sit outside our tents, eat our instant potatoes and tuna packs or whatever was on the menu for the evening, and chat the night away. If other hikers were camping nearby, of course they were invited to join. There were a couple nights where there were 10 or so of us. The most memorable family dinner occurred the first night of week three. A handful of other hikers joined us, two of those another couple - Snowshoe and Sailor. Following dinner, Sailor revealed to us her massive blister. This thing was probably holding a 1/2 cup of fluid. We had to see her pop it. There was so much pressure built up in there, when she poked it with the needle it spewed like Old Faithful. We all got a shower. Sailor’s trail name has been updated to Squirt.

2. Zero day in Big Bear. Big Bear offered us the perfect zero day. Check out our “Trail Towns: Big Bear” blog, coming soon!

3. Deep Creek. The trail follows Deep Creek for a couple days. It was such a welcome surprise after spending days in the dry desert. We hardly had to carry any water, and we were able to wade in frequently to cool down. We took our lunch break one day down on a sandbar alongside the river. It was a popular spot. There were about 15 other hikers there when we arrived, and more rolled in as we lunched. The water was freezing, but Chris dove in anyway. It wasn’t long before the whole gaggle of hikers joined him. Gasps and shrieks rung through the air as each cold-stunned individual surfaced after submerging beneath the icy creek. I knew I didn’t have a choice - if I didn’t get in on my own accord, Chris would take the matter into his own hands. So in and under I went. Then I sped towards the refuge of the sandbar where Chris awaited me with our towel. As we dried ourselves off, all the other sopping wet hikers stood in the sun and shook with chilliness. None of them had towels. They half jokingly blamed Chris for their discomfort, saying “Of course the guy with the towel conned us into this!”.

4. Sheppard and Sugar Momma. Trail magic is always magical, but it’s even more magical when you don’t expect it. After leaving the Deep Creek section, we re-entered the high-desert. We were hot, carrying a stupid amount of weight in water, and in the midst of our biggest mileage day so far. We were on a long straight stretch of exposed trail, and nearly a half mile in the distance we could see our friend Amy excitedly hopping up and down near a vintage VW van. Only one thing can get a thru-hiker so excited - trail magic. We picked up our pace until we were practically running. A few minutes later we were greeted by Amy yelling “pancakes!”, two friendly pups (Howie and Poquito), and a whole array of food and drinks spread about across several folding tables. The whole shebang was set up by Shepard and Sugar Momma - two local trail angels. We sat around for about an hour eating pancakes and fresh fruit, drinking root beer floats, and listening to stories told by Shepard. Sugar Momma was busy flipping pancakes and tending to her literal zoo. She lives in her VW van, along with, get this, her cat, three dogs, and four disabled chickens. What a lady! Sheppard and Sugar Momma were beyond wonderful to us. We left with our bellies full and our spirits high.

The lows:

1. The sleep. The Poodle Dog blisters cost me many hours of sleep during week three. My hands itched and burned as if they were covered in biting fire ants that were impossible to shake off. The only relief came from rubbing my hands back and forth on the cold outer shell of my sleeping bag. Unfortunately for Chris, the rubbing wasn’t a quiet endeavor. He didn’t get much sleep either.

2. The shin. Chris’s right lower leg took one helluva beating as we hiked endless miles seemingly straight downhill from the San Jacinto Mountains. While it’s much less physically demanding to move with gravity, it takes a much greater toll on the ole legs. By the time we reached Big Bear, Chris had a full blown kankle. Luckily, after a day of rest, a little ice, and of course some TLC, his kankle returned to an ankle and he was good as new!

3. Mission Creek. In the words Amy, “It truly was a mission getting out of Mission Creek”. For a while we thought we’d been transported to the thick of the Amazon. We bushwhacked and swatted at bugs as we wound back and forth across the creek. The trail continuously disappeared, and we’d have to backtrack or gain higher ground in order to find it again. We were so excited for this section because it was fairly flat and we thought it would be easy hiking. Nope. It was our slowest day yet.

Lessons learned:

1. Slow is fast. We’re typically more of the bulldoze-through-until-you-find-your-way type, but it turns out that doesn’t work all that well out here. We tried it for the first half of our day in Mission Creek. On several occasions we found ourselves lost as shit, running around like freshly butchered chickens, hundreds of yards from the trail. We finally decided to try a new approach - slow and deliberate. We still continued to lose the trail, but moving more slowly and actually paying attention made it much easier to find again.

2. If you’re going through hell, keep on going. Week three taught us to put our heads down and keep on trekking when the going gets tough. The only way through the tough sections, is through. You can’t go around, you can’t go over, you can’t go under, and nobody is coming to rescue you (unless you hit your SOS button, but that cost tens of thousands of dollars, and paying that sounds like an even hotter hell). So we lean into the hard parts and sing the Rodney Atkins song to ourselves, “If you’re going through hell, keep on going, don’t slow down…”. And those tough sections always eventually come to an end.

3. Food is heavy, but the calories are worth the weight. We didn’t pack nearly enough calories the first two weeks on the trail. By the time we rolled into Big Bear midway through week three, we were looking pretty skinny. Our first stop after dropping our packs in our luxurious room at the Motel 6 was Lumberjack Cafe. Chris was quite literally starving when we walked in. By the time we left the cafe he looked like one of those poor kiddos on the UNICEF commercials. Skin and bones for arms and legs with a big ole potbelly. It was hilarious but also alarming. Our next stop was the grocery store where we made sure to purchase more nutrient and calorie dense foods than what we had been carrying previously. All the food made our packs much heavier than before, but at least Chris’s ascites subsided.

We wrapped up week three at the Silverwood Lake Campground with 328 miles under our PCT belts. Dispersed camping is prohibited from miles 324.8 to 330. If you’re ending your hiking day between those miles, your only option for camping is at the park service’s Silverwood Lake Campground. We had to push a few extra miles to get there, but we didn’t mind because we were told there’d be hot showers waiting for us and pizza delivery only a phone call away. I’d say those were both half truths, and that’s probably being lenient. We limped and shuffled, hurting from the extra miles, up to the ranger station to check in. The poor kid working the desk didn’t get greeted by our best selves. He asked how the day was, and Chris had had enough at this point, “would’ve been better if we didn’t have to hike four extra miles to get here”. I tried to make it better by saying “but we can’t wait for that shower! They’re coin showers, right? Do we get quarters here?”. The guy frowned a bit and began to look nervous. His eyes gazed toward the ground and he practically whispered “We actually just ran out of quarters.” Chris and I took a deep breath and tried hard for a smile as if to say “it’s okay, not your fault”. But I think our smiles looked more like that of Jeffrey Dahmer right before digging his cannibalistic teeth into his latest victim. Chris began to work the corner, asking each passing car if they had spare quarters. The people were generous - we eventually racked up the eight that were required to turn the shower on. It was short, but it was scorching hot - just how I like it. As for the pizza delivery, it’s still a sore subject. We’re just going to let that one be. Only 2,322 miles to go! Keep on humping!