Day 45-46: The Violent Wind

May 19-20; Mile 534-566

Day 45

I awoke six hours later to bright sunshine and spinning blades all around us. My head felt fuzzy from lack of sleep, and everything was covered in a fine layer of grit. Dolphin finished packing, and we made plans to camp at a spot 15 miles ahead.

The wind turbines had a stark, almost alien beauty to them, and as I walked through their midst I noticed they were all facing the same direction: north.

The trail headed steadily upward straight into the wind; it was like wading through a river. I took shelter behind the large bushes along the trail, but they were few and far between, and my legs were already exhausted from the previous night’s march.

A few hours later I came to the creek where I’d planned to take my siesta. It had been touted in the guide notes as a reliable water source and a sight for sore eyes. Instead I was met with a ribbon of mud and a small trickle upstream. But there were large trees and bushes, and I basked in the shade as I made my lunch.

I was joined by Adam, the British man I’d met at a water cache near Cajon Pass, and we compared our experiences on the aqueduct. He said it had felt “deliciously naughty” to be out walking alone at 2am through an industrial area.

Soon after we were joined by DD, and discussion turned to plans for Tehachapi. Apparently DD was planning a pool party at the Best Western. “I just want to feel like a normal person for one day.”

By 3pm it was time to head out once more. The trail wound along wide open slopes as it continued its climb ever upward. For three hours I fought the wind as it shoved me, tugged at me, smacked me, and hauled me off-trail. It was capricious and ever-changing, and I stumbled along, unable to brace myself against its onslaught.

Adam passed me at the water cache as I sat down to cook my dinner. The camp site was less than a mile away, but the cache had chairs, and I wasn’t one to pass up such a luxury. When I reached camp the wind was howling along the ridge and it was almost twilight. I looked for Dolphin but didn’t see her – instead I found a spot under a pine tree and began to stake out my tent. A large gust came through and ripped up a corner of my tent, as well as sending Adam’s cowboy setup flying. I dug into the sandy soil to find something firmer to bury my stake into, when someone camping near me appeared with a perfect, rectangular rock. “It looked like you needed this,” she said as she offered it to me. I used it to secure the windward guy line, and weighted down the corners of my tent with any heavy gear I had: water bottles, my electronics bag, my backpack.

It was a long night full of howling gusts that crescendoed along the ridge before funneling through the trees of the “protected” sites and shaking our tents to their core.

Day 46

I left camp early the next morning, just 17 miles between me and the road into town. The first hour was nice: a breezy walk past shaded hillsides covered in grass and sagebrush. I stopped at a campsite to make my breakfast, and then I stepped out into the gale.

Sustained winds of 20-30 mph with gusts above 50 came shrieking over the exposed slopes and pummeled me from every direction. The foam pad on the outside of my pack acted like a sail, and every sideways gust spun me around so that I had to shuffle at a slant down the trail.

Despite the desert sun blazing above, I kept my puffy and wool hat on to stay warm. Two other hikers passed me right as a massive wave of wind swept past. All three of us had to brace ourselves head-first to avoid being bowled over. The insides of my thighs burned from working so hard to stabilize my legs as I walked.

Whenever the wind quieted down to just a stiff breeze, I jogged down the trail, desperate to cover ground before being walloped into standing still. And then as I was hunched against a particularly strong gust, my tight wool hat was ripped from my head. By some miracle my middle finger hooked onto its lip before it blew away, but then my sunglasses were torn from my face and sent flying. Unsteadied by the shock, I went with them, careening ten feet off trail into the bushes.

I retrieved my glasses and stuffed them and my hat into my jacket pocket. Then I yanked my buff into headband mode to stop my hair from whipping me in the face. I knew there was a road after only nine miles that was easy to hitch into town; buoyed by the thought of escaping this particular form of hell, I hurried along as fast as I could across the exposed ridges through one of the world’s biggest wind farms.

At the road I met Dolphin and her friend Finja – the person who had given me the rock for my tent! It was only 10:30, and hitching to town from there meant a 25-mile water carry upon returning. We all decided to hike the remaining eight miles and hitch into town together from highway 58.

It was the right decision; the trail continued past wind turbines, but the wind was much calmer in this stretch. As we walked toward the road to continue on the trail, we met Magic Man handing out cold drinks. I happily chugged a Gatorade as we chatted; he spent a few weeks each summer traveling to the different towns between Tehachapi and Tahoe. Apparently we were lucky the wind was keeping the temperatures down, since this stretch often got above 100 F.

Dolphin, Finja, and I hiked onward past golden fields of grass dotted with spinning turbines. We barely took any breaks, so determined were we to be done with this section. We got to the highway overpass and hadn’t even put our packs down when a car pulled up offering to drive us to Tehachapi. It was a trail angel named Kate, and she had ice cream and cold drinks!

Fifteen minutes later we were relaxing in front of the German bakery eating sandwiches and laughing about how we’d hoped to be in town before the post office closed on Saturday; it was 2:30 on Friday.

Finja found me a spot in a hotel room with their friends, and we dropped off our things before heading to Walmart to resupply. It was daunting to walk around such a massive space after having hiked 17 miles that morning. I tried on a dress just so I could take a break and sit down in the changing room. But I had made it through the wind farms, the aqueduct, most of the desert. Only one section lay between me and the Sierras.