Day 41-43: To Hiker Town

May 15-17; Mile 454-510

Day 41

My parents dropped me off at the trail around 6, and it was already quite warm in the sun. After reading about how the next section of trail was peoples’ least favorite, I was expecting the worst. And yet I was greeted by the same steady dirt tread lined with bright wildflowers and yucca. For being so close to the Mojave, the hillsides were remarkably green.

I stopped at the spring after six miles and came across Tim, Yannika, and someone I hadn’t met before. I’d seen Tim and Yannika for a few days before Big Bear Lake, and I was surprised that Ken wasn’t with them. Apparently his leg was still giving him problems and he had stayed at the KOA to rest.

Amongst the buzzing bees and chirping birds there was a small concrete receptacle that captured the spring water from a pipe. The water had a strong rotten-egg bouquet even when filtered. But it was 15 miles until the next water source, so I filled up 4.5 liters and used another liter to cook an early lunch and hydrate.

After a nice rest in the shade, I was ready to head out again. The sky was filling with clouds, and they offered a welcome relief from the sun’s heat. I lugged my heavy pack up and down the hillsides, past a sea of green bushes and a handful of weekend day hikers.

Around 12:30 the air lay thick and still, and the sun had evaded the clouds once more. I found a flat spot beneath a madrone bush and lay out my pad to take a break. The shade felt heavenly after slogging up the path. I stayed for about an hour, waiting for the cloud cover to bring the temperature back down.

After cresting the top of the ridge, the trail had a nice gentle downhill stretch most of the way to my planned camp spot. It was quite enjoyable, until the trail decided to spice things up by mixing huge clumps of poison oak into the overgrown brush lining the trail. I had to duck and weave, a maneuver made considerably harder by my hulking pack.

When I finally reached the memorial bench, I found Tim sitting in the shade with his gear strewn about. He made room for me to sit, and I was happy to take off my pack and rest; neither of us were in a rush to hike the last two miles to the camp spot. We swapped stories about some of the places we’d camped along the trail, especially the bad spots: my tent spot under I-10 and his cowboy setup on the porch of the grocery store in Agua Dulce that had burned down.

The two of us ended up camping in a nice spot on the ridge with multiple sites cordoned off by bushes. The surrounding hills were awash in golden light as the sun set in the west, and the air was filled with birdsong. I drifted off sometime after 8, just over 40 miles away from the dreaded Aqueduct.

Day 42

I left the camp spot early in the morning; the sky was cloudless and I knew the day would heat up quickly. I passed a young rattlesnake, maybe 12 inches long, with a tiny rattle at the end of its tail. There was a dead frog in front of it, but the snake wasn’t moving. Its head was facing away from me, and so I tried hitting my trekking pole nearby to get it to move. It was lethargic from the cold, so I carefully scooted it off the trail and hopped past, giving its head a wide berth.

I came to my first water source after four miles: a spigot on the side of a fire station about 1/4 mile off trail. There was a nice picnic bench with shade for me to make my breakfast, and as I was getting ready to leave Tim arrived. He was planning to hike a shorter day and stay at an ostrich farm nearby.

By noon I was tired from the heat and wind. This wind was not a steady rustling in the treetops, it came unannounced and walloped you in the face with a wall of force that was gone in seconds. Plus the trail continued its green tunnel of bushes, and I had to watch out for errant clumps of leaves of three. I came to a nice shaded picnic table, but the wind was howling all around me and the ground was littered with large branches from the dead tree above. I grudgingly left the spot and walked in my camp shoes to the road, where I found another picnic table in direct sun. Not to be robbed of my chance at a shady break, I set up my foam pad under the table and shimmied underneath. I topped off my water from the cache there and stayed under the table eating lunch and hydrating until 3pm.

In many sections of the desert, the notable spots were water sources. But this section of trail featured something new: four small caves where you could crouch to escape the heat. Having seen the movie “The Descent,” I passed on the first cave that require crawling inside, but the second one had a ten-foot tunnel that I could kneel inside. It was a hot, monotonous section of trail; clearly someone else had felt the same drudgery that I felt welling up inside me, for they’d placed a plastic tub with paper and pens for hikers to leave notes. The Lord of the Rings reference elicited a chuckle, and I left the caves ready for the climb ahead.

The trail entered a recent burn area next, and I hurried through as the sun sunk lower in the sky. I finally came to the worst water source of the trip so far: a cistern in a sea of poodle dog bush. The water had an oily sheen on top that I dunked my bottle beneath. It emerged full of green water that tasted like someone had made green tea by steeping it for hours. The next water source had conflicting reports of whether it was flowing, and the one after that reportedly had a bloated rat carcass floating near the top, so I filled up 3 liters of bitter algae tea and walked the last mile to camp.

I was joined by two new folks – Portal and Em – and we chatted over dinner as the sunset stained the western sky orange and pink. It was dark before I even began setting up the gear in my tent. But I was cheered to learn that several people I knew were planning to hike the Aqueduct on Wednesday evening. Hopefully a group would help to make it fun.

Day 43

I left camp with half a liter of roadside-cache-water remaining before I needed to start drinking the stagnant-cistern-water. After two miles I reached an intersection of four forest roads. My map showed that the water tank was down the trail a bit, and I set off with my heart full of hope. After five minutes I still hadn’t seen the tank and checked my map again – I’d passed it! Frustrated, I backtracked to the road intersection and found a little spigot that I’d missed before. I’d read some reports that it was flowing and others that it was dry; I turned the valve and water gushed out! I dumped all the green water from my bag and filled up with delicious, cold, clear water.

After alternating sections of rippling grass and shaded forest slopes, the trail emerged onto a dirt track. Up ahead the number 500 was spelled out in rocks on the hillside. I paused and exclaimed “Five hundred miles!” to the empty trail, before taking some pictures and continuing on.

The trail led through beautiful fields of white and purple flowers, past shaded oak groves with swirls of green and red ground cover. A gentle breeze kept the temperature down and the abundant shade made for pleasant hiking.

At the next water tank I met three hikers who had started on March 19 (my original permit date!) I took a long lunch break before starting the steep descent down toward Hiker Town and the edge of the Mojave Desert.

That evening after I’d eaten and was relaxing in my tent, I heard people coming up the trail. Some variant of “are we there yet?” rang through the quiet night air, and I called out to greet Portal and Em. They ended up camping near me again, and we discussed our strategy for the aqueduct before turning in for the night.