January 21, 2020
- Route: Mile 42.1 (near Mt.Laguna) to Mile 65.7 (near Chariot Mountain)
- Daily Distance: 23.6 miles
- Cumulative distance: 65.7 miles
All of yesterday’s worrying about potential holes in my tent’s rainfly was for naught. My tent held up just fine in the inclement weather. And I’m glad, because it was quite an evening.
The wind blew all night long, and then the rain started around 9:30 pm. The forecast only predicted a 30-40% chance of rain/snow overnight, so I assumed (or at least hoped) it would pass quickly. That definitely was not the case though. The rain poured consistently for the next eight hours, and it was only just starting to die down around 6 am.
Between the wind gusts and the steady rain pelting my tent, I woke up repeatedly throughout the night. On the positive side though, at least the temperature didn’t drop down to 29 degrees as predicted. I’m pretty sure it stayed somewhere in the mid-30s given the fact that the rain never transitioned to sleet or snow. Nonetheless, I’m still glad I buried my water filter and external battery deep in my sleeping bag overnight. You never can be too safe.
WAITING OUT THE RAIN
Around 6 am, my bladder was calling, so I decided to head over to the vault toilets at the Burnt Rancheria campground in hopes that they were still open. I had no idea whether a USFS Ranger patrolling the area would lock them up for the night. I sure hoped not. And so, I jogged over to the bathrooms with my fingers crossed!
My luck was still running strong. The bathrooms were still unlocked and dry. Yesterday, I’d half jokingly thought about using these bathrooms as a shelter if my tent started leaking in the bad weather overnight. And honestly, it wouldn’t have been a bad alternative. With the campground closed, the bathrooms only had minimal traffic using them, and they were actually remarkably clean. It wouldn’t be the worst place I’d ever slept! That’s for sure.
As I returned to my tent to warm myself back up, I decided to linger in my sleeping bag to see if I could wait the rain out. I’d brought my rain pants and a jacket for this trip, but it was still really chilly out this morning.
Luckily, I didn’t have to hang out in my tent too long. By the time I finished my breakfast and got packed up, it was barely sprinkling out. Most of the droplets I felt were from the wind blowing the water out of the wet pine trees, and so I quickly donned my rain gear and set out to see what was next on this hike.
WET & FOGGY MORNING
For the first few miles, the area was almost completely socked in my fog. I couldn’t see anything off trail. Even the picnic area that I’d briefly visited yesterday afternoon on Mt. Laguna was obscured as I walked by.
The morning temperatures were only in the mid-30s, but I was already beginning to overheat in all my extra layers. The rain seemed to have stopped. So rather than sweat through everything, I stopped and removed my rain gear, and immediately felt so much better.
In hindsight, I probably should have take my cotton hiking pants off and just worn my rain pants this morning instead. There were lots of bushes and plants criss-crossing the trail that were full of water from the previous 10 hours of showers. Everything I brushed past was wet, and even the slightest touch transferred all that water to my legs.
I tried to use my trekking poles to push all the brush and plants out of my way, but it wasn’t much use. My pants still got drenched. First it was just the area above my shoes. Then the dampness extended up to my knees. As the trail became denser with foliage, the water was saturating the front of my pants further and further up. Before I knew it, my hiking pants were soaked all the way up to the mid-thigh.
I was still staying warm because I was moving, so the wet pant legs didn’t bother me too much. Hopefully, my body heat would dry everything out as the day progressed. But, this was not a good omen.
DRYING OUT MY TENT
Hiking in the areas around Mt. Laguna, I’d expected to get plenty of good mountain views. Unfortunately, everything was obscured by the low clouds and fog. The only thing I could see for the first hours was white.
The lack of scenery was fine though, because, most of my attention was down near my feet. In addition to all the wet plants I was trying to avoid to stay dry, I also needed to watch out for several slick spots covered with the remnants of snow and ice, and a little mud.
Five miles into the day, things started to improved just as I approached a roadside lookout right off Sunrise Highway. The the sun was just beginning to peek out, and it felt sublime. I stood atop the concrete viewing platform above the trail trying to soak the heat in. Then the wind suddenly pushed the low clouds out, treating me to the most awesome views of the desert valley below. Until now, I had no idea this breathtaking panorama was out there.
I decided to take advantage of the sunny spot and pulled my soaking wet tent and rainfly out from my pack’s outer pocket. If I stood there long enough, maybe they would dry out while I had second breakfast.
Unfortunately, my plan had one major flaw…the wind was whipping all around me. It was so strong I couldn’t realistically lay my tent out without fearing it would blow away. So I stood at the railing and held on to the edge of my wet rainfly while I let the strong gusts blow on it like an abandoned parachute.
The morning wind was biting cold, and after 20 minutes my gloved fingers were completely numb. But, my tent was now 90% dry, and that’a a major win in my book. Not carrying the extra weight of a wet tent (or having to sleep in a wet tent this evening) was well worth the discomfort of a few cold fingers. Besides, I had some pretty good views during the chore.
NO GIARDIA, PLEASE.
From here I focused my attention on my next waypoint on the PCT. Just before mile 49, I would encounter Penny Pines, where I planted to get some much needed water. I hadn’t re-filled up since the creek yesterday afternoon, and I was down to less than a liter.
Once I got to Penny Pines, I found a reliable water faucet in an open forested area/picnic area on the opposite side of the highway. Although the water came from a spigot, I had no idea of its actual source. It could be drinking water. Or it could be like the non-potable water at the bathrooms in the Mt. Laguna picnic area.
I’m never one to risk getting giardia (and the accompanying stomach cramps, diarrhea, or vomiting), so I decided to play it safe and filtered my water from the faucet. My hiking adventure was only halfway over, and I didn’t need to take a waterborne disease home as a souvenir.
Once my water was replenished and my pack heavy again, I began to look forward to some more good views. Unfortunately, the clouds were moving back in by the time I made it back to the PCT. The lovely warming aspect of the sun was gone, and the temperature was feeling downright chilly. In fact, I’m not sure it ever got above 40 degrees the rest of the entire day. Winter was definitely herein SoCal!
GREAT EXPECTATIONS
Around mile 50, the PCT crossed the trail leading off to Garnet Peak. Ahead of me, through the fog and clouds, I could see a middle-aged couple walking back down from the summit all bundled up. When they came within earshot, the guy excitedly asked me, “Are you doing the entire PCT?” I responded in the negative, and said I was just doing a short section.
His companion followed up by asking me how long my section was. When I answered that I was just heading from Campo to Warner Springs – or 110 miles – she looked really impressed.
So here was with this random guy casually asking me if I was walking the entire 2,650 miles, while his hiking partner was thoroughly impressed that I was willing to do a mere 4% of that length. What a dichotomy. I sure hope they aren’t going to be hiking together too long if their expectations are that disparate!
Despite my meager (or impressive) distance for this section hike, I know one thing. Today was a really challenging day. Not only were my pants soaking wet for much of it, but the trail conditions weren’t great either. There was ice, slush and mud, and I was mostly above 5,000 feet elevation all day. I’ll admit, my morale was waning a bit with the lack of sunshine, never-ending wind, and cooler temperatures.
As I approached Pioneer Mail Picnic Area at mile 52, I started to wonder what the heck I was doing out here in winter. This hike was not turning out to be as enjoyable today as the past two days. If the next two days are equally crummy weather, I might have to reevaluate whether I want to keep hiking.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a fair-weather hiker. I’ve hiked many, many miles in crummy weather. Heck, I hiked most of Pennsylvania (aka Rocksylvania) in the rain, and toughed it out through sweltering 110+ degree temperatures in New Jersey and New York. I can suck up bad conditions with the best of them.
But, did I really want my 5-day section hike on the PCT to be all misery? Would I be willing to return for more PCT sections if this one was a rotten experience??
KWAAYMII
As I pondered these questions, I continued on a few more miles to my lunch spot near the Kwaaymii trailhead. The sun briefly emerged while I ate, and I could see there were several memorials along the trail. I’m wasn’t sure the origin or importance of these trinkets and decided to check to see if I had cell signal so I could ask the old Google machine. Sure enough, I was in luck!
With a little research, I learned Kwaaymii Point is a popular hang gliding spot in the Laguna Mountains. One one side of me was a rocky mountain, and to my other side stood a retaining wall with a super steep drop off! As the wind blew the clouds out, I could see how this would make a superb launching point for hang gliding. Unfortunately, I also learned that some of those memorial plaques in the rock wall were in memory of those whose flights into the desert ended tragically!
After finishing off my lunch, I sent a quick text to Keith to let him know how far I intended to make it to today. Unlike the past two nights, today would not be near any campgrounds or built up areas. I was heading toward mile 66 and would settle on one of the stealth sites I stumbled across.
WATER TROUGH
My second water resupply spot option for the day was the trailhead near Sunrise Junction at mile 59.5. I had a to take a half mile detour (each way) from the PCT to get to a parking area beside Sunrise Highway. There was supposed to a water trough and a spigot where I could fill up just beyond the large flat parking lot and vault toilet.
I found the trough, which looked like it was meant for stock animals given the nearby horse corrals. But I couldn’t see a water spigot anywhere. There was tall metal water cistern nearby, and I wandered all the way around it looking for a spigot, but I didn’t see one.
I traipsed around the area for a good five minutes, but still didn’t see anything more than the horse trough. There was a spigot that went into the tank to fill it, but I couldn’t get any water from that. So, in the end, I decided to just buckle down and scoop my water from the trough itself.
The thin layer of green grime on parts of the surface that made me want to gag a bit. I hesitated again when I saw the sign on the front of the tank warning that the water wasn’t potable. Yet, this was my only option.
There weren’t any dead animals floating in it, and I planned to filter my water anyway, so I’d just have to hope for the best. It’s funny. In just a few hours I went from being super cautious with this morning’s piped water at Penny Pines, to hoping my filter would do it’s best on this questionable trough water.
The water was freezing cold as I dipped my water bladder under the surface to fill it up. Holy crap. My hands turned bright red while I was filtering it into my water bottles, and the icy wind started to kick up again. When I was finally done, I needed to put my rain jacket, hat and gloves to try to my teeth from chattering. Man, this was a rough day. It was 2:30 pm and it was still freezing out.
BLISTERS
I returned to the PCT after my detour, only to discover the terrain ahead was changing again. The next four miles consisted of a long downhill decent that took me back below 4,000 feet elevation first the first time all day. In fact, I should remain at lower elevations for the rest of this section hike until Warner Springs. So hopefully, that means some warmer temperatures in my future!
As I neared mile 63, the PCT transition from a single track trail to a wide dirt road. Based on the enormous tire prints in the mud, it looked like dump trucks went back and forth to a quarry somewhere nearby.
The ground was hard as asphalt, and I could feel a blister forming on one of my pinky toes with each step down the road. I probably should have stopped and taken care of it immediately. I know from last winter’s hike on the Lone Star Trail that ignoring your feet issues can be a real mistake. But, my fingers were cold, and I didn’t have much further to go before camp. So laziness won out yet again and I kept walking
The incline back up on that dirt road was fairly steep, and I was grateful when the trail diverged from the road again. The PCT is such a nicely graded trail and I can really appreciate all the work that went into making it so walkable.
I started to wonder if I would have appreciated the PCT’s conditions as much if I hadn’t already hiked the AT. Was that brutal hiking experience last year causing me to fall in love with this trail?
RESILIENCE
I found a nice stealth spot to set up camp for the night near mile 65.7, and I was now back up at a higher elevation. The cloud cover I’d cursed the past few hours was now clearing out, and I could see straight across to the mountain range I was walking across earlier today.
As I set up my tent in a spot fairly sheltered from the wind, I started to feel proud of myself. Today was a hard day. The weather was less than ideal. The trail was wet, and windy, and cold. I struggled several times to stay mentally strong.. But here I was now sitting in my tent and looking out on a splendid sunset.
Two-thirds of my PCT section hike is complete, and felt a sense of resilience. I even had cell service tonight, which boosted my mood further!! I checked the weather forecast, and my hunch was right. The next two days were supposed to be sunny and in the 60s. Now THERE was a reason to be happy! It’s all a cakewalk from here.
After dinner, I wandered outside my tent in the dark and happened to look up. Oh man, the night sky with all those stars. I can’t remember the last time I saw so many. With a clear night, and no ambient light for at least 40 miles in any direction, I felt like I could see the entire universe and it was breath taking.
I deliberately kept my phone tucked in my pocket as I stared upward. I knew the camera could never portray what I was seeing. And even if it could visually showcase this image, it would never be able to capture the feeling or the sense of awe I felt. That is something you have to see with you own eyes. And it’s why I hike.
DAILY SUMMARY
HIGHLIGHTS
- The epic views of the desert when the wind would briefly blow the clouds out
- Making it through a hard day without quitting
- Finding a great stealth camping spot with that gorgeous night sky
CHALLENGES
- Hiking with soaked pants from all the wet foliage along the trail
- The cold, biting wind that didn’t want to quit
- Gathering that really gross (and cold) trough water at Sunrise Junction