Day 1-2: Campo to Lake Morena

I left San Diego with my stomach full of butterflies. As we approached the border wall, hikers passed us on the road, 20 minutes into their own thru attempts. The monument sat atop a small hill, while behind it the slats of the border wall continued in either direction. Besides the PCTA volunteer, we were the only people there. It was only 8:40 am, but the sun beat down relentlessly from a cloudless, azure sky. After a few photos I started to walk north.

The nervous excitement from the past few weeks melted away amidst the steady rhythm of my feet and trekking poles. This was something I was good at, and I started to enjoy myself. I met Dov after a mile or so, and we mailed some post cards from the Campo Post Office.

Back on the trail lizards darted beneath our feet and yucca plants towered above. We crossed a railroad and then began descending to the last water source before Lake Morena some 16 miles north.

There was a glut of hikers resting in the shade and filtering water – not the romantic farewell I’d been planning. A few people were having trouble with their water filters, and as I was thinking “what a way to start the hike” I realized I had dropped my trekking poles into a patch of poison oak.

Despite the heat and horrid water weight, I was antsy to get moving. Dov and I said goodbye, and then I hiked on into the heat. Occasionally I’d find a patch of shade alongside the trail and huddle for 20 minutes to cool down – if there weren’t already hikers doing the same. After 2 hours my head was pounding and my cheeks felt like radiators. I mixed an electrolyte drink to help, but by mile 9 I was starting to hurt.

I had been leapfrogging with several people throughout the day, and their company helped. I found a shaded campsite right beside the trail after 11 miles and plopped down in thanks. It had a rock for leaning against and a madrona tree overhead. Soon after a guy passed me saying he was “absolutely shattered” by the heat. A group of girls then walked by with plans to make it to Lake Morena with only 2-3L of water. Several other folks shuffled by around 5 or 6, including one man who lamented “I was ready to be done 2 miles ago.”

Hiking with all the water weight during the heat of the day had been absolutely brutal on everyone. I forced almonds and dried mango into my mouth and chewed automatically, my head throbbing with every bite. After downing an electrolyte drink, I started to feel better and began cooking dinner. Three ladies passed and commented on my ‘fancy’ dinner since I was chopping up a shallot. When I finally turned in to my sleeping bag, I was determined to wake up early, hike for a few hours, and then hide in the shade for the heat of the day before hiking a bit more later on.

Day 2

I barely slept despite my physical exhaustion and woke up around 5:15 am as the sky was just starting to lighten. I began packing at 6 and even then the breeze had an edge of warmth to it. I left camp before the sun cleared the horizon, hurrying along to spend as much time hiking in the shade as possible. I had a long, hot climb ahead of me that day.

The descent into Hauser Canyon was mostly shaded and I made good time, catching up to the three ladies from the night before, plus 2 other guys: Lauren, Kelsey, Frida, Khan, and Toby.

We all leapfrogged our way uphill toward Lake Morena. The scenery was beautiful, and though the sun beat down on us as we climbed, the frequent gusts of wind kept the heat exhaustion at bay. It also helped that it was only 9am.

We all hiked into town and headed straight for the Oak Shores cafe for lunch: I had a crispy chicken sandwich and a root beer float. It felt amazing to sit out on the porch in the shade while the sun bleached the pavement just beyond.

After gorging ourselves we retired to the campground to recline in the shade during the heat of the day. A large group formed before long, and people sprawled and joked and filtered water. A camp worker came by right as we were leaving to tell folks to move to a site set aside for PCT hikers to hang out at. Instead eight of us formed a conga line up the trail to catch a few more miles before bed. It was a gentle, wide sand track that made for good walking. We all decided to push on to mile 23 for a large site with a nice rock outcropping looking west. It was another dry camp, but we were prepared.

I was finally enjoying the social side of the trail: making dinner together, sharing desserts, Frida trying to offload all her extra oatmeal. We all watched the sun slip below the horizon while planning the miles we’d walk tomorrow.