January 22, 2020
- Route: Mile 65.7 (near Chariot Mountain) to mile 88.8 (Anza-Borrego desert)
- Daily Distance: 23.1 miles
- Cumulative distance: 88.8 miles
Last night’s stealth campsite up in the mountains made for a perfect spot to sleep. I was sheltered from the worst of the wind as it blew the remaining clouds out, and slept like a baby all night long. After yesterday’s weather and mental challenges, I really needed the some rest to re-energize me.
I was up early this morning, with plenty of time to catch the sunrise turning the mountains a golden glow. And as I watched the show and took lots of photos, I discovered I had enough cell service on the side of Chariot Mountain to check the weather for the day. The highs were supposed to climb into the mid-70s. That was mighty fine news indeed! Today was off to a great start.
The early morning air was pretty nippy still as I got dressed and packed everything up. I was extremely happy my khaki pants had a chance to dry out completely before the sun went down last night. There’s nothing quite as disheartening as having to put on wet clothes…except, perhaps, putting on COLD, wet clothes. I was glad to be able to avoid that this morning.
BOONDOCKING?
With the sun shining brightly, I was all packed up and ready to go by 7 am. It was time to go find my first water source of the day. I still had plenty of that nasty water leftover from the horse trough yesterday, but I wasn’t particularly eager to drink it. That was especially true because I knew there was supposed to be a fresh water spigot near Rodriguez Road, a mere 3 miles into my morning. I’d rather drink from this morning’s source instead. Just to be safe.
Within the hour, I was approaching Rodriguez Road, which is just a small dirt road passing between Chariot Mountain and Granite Mountain, As I looked up and down the road, it was completely quiet. But, I could see a white van parked about 75 meters from the trailhead.
In the past I might have assumed the worst about an unknown van parked in the middle of nowhere. My mind would have immediately jumped to all the stereotypes. It’s a serial killer just waiting there to abduct someone. Or maybe a dangerous group of felons hiding from the police up in the mountains while they mastermind their next criminal plot. However, after the past two years of living outdoors, I’ve come to realize it probably it’s probably just someone out there boondocking.
For those unfamiliar with “boondocking,” it’s a term used by many RVers and #vanlifers, which refers to dry camping. There’s a whole niche of people out there custom building the interiors of commercial vans, and turning them into awesome spaces to camp in the backcountry or out on beaches. Most of these van conversions use commercial vans as their shell. And these vans tend to be white, because that’s predominantly what the van manufacturers are producing, regardless of whether they are going to become delivery vans or converted into a camping vehicle.
These boondockers tend to gravitate toward public lands managed by the U.S. Forest Service (USFS) or Bureau of Land Management (BLM) where they can camp overnight for up to 14 days at a time. They are often are out in the wilderness for the same exact reasons thru-hikers like to get out on the trail. They love being in nature. And, they seek out beautiful places in the backcountry to camp away from all the crowds.
With this in mind, I’m now loathe to jump to any crazy conclusions whenever I see a white van parked on a remote place. But, I also don’t want to sidle up to a strange vehicle unannounced or startle anyone either. And so, as I approached Rodriguez Road, I kept a wide berth. I am hiking alone after all. So whether it’s a boondocker looking for some quiet time in nature or the quintessential creepy dude, I don’t want to have to worry about my safety.
SCISSORS CROSSING
After Rodriguez Road, the rest of my morning would be mostly downhill on the way toward Scissors Crossing. This didn’t mean it was a cake walk though. There were some short, steep sections and I found myself warming up quickly. By mid-morning, found myself stopping to strip off my long-sleeved shirt and taking a good looking around. The terrain around me was now transitioning from forest to rocky desert.
When I made it down to the bottom of the San Felipe Valley, I had about three miles of completely flat, easy walking across the desert floor. The tall mountains of the Cleveland National Forest rose behind me to the south, and a new series of mountains from the Anza-Borrego Desert State Park stretched ahead of me. The ground was now a soft sand-dirt mix and the tall trees had been replaced by cactus and scrub brush.
Shortly after 11 am, I made it to Scissors Crossing at mile 77.3. This would be the most significant waypoint of my day. The spot gets its name for the odd scissor-like intersection across Highway 78. During peak thru-hiking season, many PCT hikers try to get a hitch into town from here so they can enjoy the famous apple pies from the nearby town of Julian. But I’ve only got another day out here on trail, so there’s no need to go the 12 miles into town.
Scissors Crossing is also notable because it’s a well-known water cache location. The 24-mile stretch of the PCT between Rodriguez Road (back at mile 68) and the underground cistern ahead at mile 91 has no natural water sources for hikers to replenish their water. To help remedy this problem, local trail angels cache dozens of gallons of water for hikers under the highway overpass near Scissors Crossing. This spot under the road provides a shady respite from the desert sun, and it’s a natural spot for thru-hikers to stop and rest before climbing back into the mountains.
I knew my off-season section hike wouldn’t coincide when most PCT thru-hikers were walking through the desert. Thus, the trail angels may not be visiting regularly this time of year. Rather than testing my luck, I opted to drive out to Scissors Crossing a week ago just to stockpile some extra water there for when I eventually hiked past. Better to ensure there would definitely be water there than show up and find the cache bone dry, right?
Given that I was already making the 90-mile drive all the way out to this remote spot, I decided to bring several several extra gallons of water with me, and add them to the bottles that were already sitting there. I’m sure they would get consumed, if not this week, then sometime soon. But, out of an abundance of caution, I also decided to bury one water jug in the sand nearby just to make sure my trip all the way out there wasn’t in vain.
When I finally hiked down to the overpass, I was glad to see that three of the jugs I’d brought were still full. My fears about being stuck without any water were not warranted. Nonetheless, I’m glad I took the precaution of burying the extra jug. Better safe than sorry when you’re doing a hike like this completely by yourself in the low season.
After digging it up my water jug, I decided to relax in the soft sand and shade of the overpass and enjoy and early lunch. The miles were flying by this morning thanks to the easier terrain and downhill. I could afford to take some extra time here and rest my sore back against one of the cool concrete support pylons.
TRAIL SHOW
After lunch, I had a long climb back up into the mountains on the north side of Highway 78. As I departed Scissors Crossing, I noticed a pair of abandoned jeans near the PCT trail sign and I couldn’t help smiling. As a fan of the The Trail Show podcast, I’d listened to the hosts poke fun of novice hikers found out on random trails hiking in jeans.
Nothing is quite as uncomfortable (or unsuited to long-distance hiking) as a pair of blue jeans. There are far better technical fabrics out there. Denim might work for the city, but it’s way too heavy for hiking. It doesn’t wick sweat and it leads to unbearable chafing. And, god forbid you get rained on. Those jeans would never dry out, and you’d get hypothermia.
So, as I passed that pair of faded mens’ jeans crumpled near the signpost, I had to stop and take a photo for posterity. Maybe I’d even send a copy to the hosts of The Trail Show. They’d get a real laugh envisioning some city slicker out here chafing in his jeans before suddenly deciding to strip them off and just walk in his underwear instead.
A WARM AFTERNOON
This afternoon’s trail was well-graded so I didn’t feel like I was having to physically exert myself with effort. But, the sun was now directly overhead, and it felt truly intense without any sort of tree cover to shade me. It was only January and I was baking! I could only imagine what this would feel like in April when it really warmed up.
As the afternoon progressed, I was sweating buckets, and looked forward to the small switchbacks into the folds of the mountains, where the sun’s rays would be eclipsed by this hillside above me. These moments were short-lived though. And before long, the trail would head out into the full sun again. This back-and-forth between the sun and the shade went on all afternoon as I continued to climb higher and higher.
Eventually, I pulled out my headphones to distract myself with a podcast. While I really enjoy hiking without any music or noise most of the time, I find I sometimes need a little pick-me-up, especially when I’m hiking alone. With no one to talk to, the miles can seem to go on endlessly. This afternoon was one of those times, and I was glad for the distraction of someone else’s voice in my ears so I could stop focusing on the sun.
ANOTHER HIKER!
By 4pm, I began to look on my map to see where I might want to make camp for the night. I’d be stealth camping again with the water I carried from the Scissors Crossing cache. So, it didn’t really matter where I chose to stop. Today was a good day in terms of mileage, and I was pretty certain I could make it to at least mile 88, leaving me just 20ish miles to go tomorrow before I got off trail.
My map showed there was a piped gate at mile 88.2, and there was supposed to be a small campsite already established there. I figured that seemed like as good of a spot as any. However, when I eventually arrived, there was another hiker already setting up in that exact spot. Holy cow! I hadn’t seen a soul all day, and only seen a handful of day hikers over the past four days. But here was another backpacker setting up right where I’d hoped to stop. What are the chances?
As I passed, I gave a quick wave to say hello. However, the guy was so busy trying to stake down his tent in the wind that he didn’t seem to notice. Oh well. I was certain there would be several more spots in the next mile, so I decided to keep walking.
There were two more established spots less than a quarter mile later, with one on each side of the trail. Those could have sufficed for the evening. But as I looked around, they were situated in a bend in the trail that blocked the views. I didn’t want to be tucked in that nook when I had a chance to get some great sunset or sunrise views. So, I pressed on.
At mile 88.8, I found the perfect spot for the night. A short trail branched off the PCT and went out to a flat, open spot out on a ridge. From that vantage point, the hill dropped off in three directions leaving me with unobstructed views of the valley. THIS was the spot I was looking for. It was a bit exposed, but the wind seemed to be dying down and the views could not be beat. It was the ideal spot to spend my last night sleeping on the trail!
PONDERING MY CHOICES
After setting up my tent, I had some more first aid to tend too. In addition to the blister I’d let go on my pinky toe yesterday, I now had a few more hot spots developing. There was also a small blister was budding on the outside of my heel, and my feet were red and splotchy in places. Dang. I’d hoped this wouldn’t happen.
I knew blisters were a risk when I bought these particular trail shoes again. I’d worn a pair of them for a 500-mile stretch on the AT from the Grayson Highlands to Harper’s Ferry, and I’d developed the same exact blister issue on the outside of my heels. That’s the reason I went back to the Altra Lone Peaks for the rest of my thru-hike. I’m not sure why I believed wearing these shoes would be different the second time around, but I wanted to give them another try. And here I was the exact same result. Will I ever learn??
As I bandaged up my feet and cleaned up for the evening, it wasn’t all misery. I was treated to the most wonderful desert sunset. I’m now so glad that guy arrived at the other campsite first. This option was tremendously better.
Sadly, I only have one more day of hiking before this adventure is over. I feel like I’m just starting to find my groove out here. But, it will be good to give my feet a rest too. Jumping into 20+ mile days after 3 months of endless holiday eating, beer drinking, and relaxing has put a decent amount of strain on my body.
Five days is a nice duration for this section hike, but it also has me wondering about something else. Why didn’t I hike this trail last year instead of hiking the Appalachian Trail?? I’m enjoying the PCT far more than I imagined. I love this terrain and the sweeping views. Even with the challenges of finding water, it’s still far more enjoyable and rewarding than the AT. Did I waste my time hiking that trail? Or am I just appreciating the PCT more because I hiked the AT first?
All those years growing up, I lived within an hour’s drive of the PCT. I didn’t realize then how much beauty was around me. And now that I’m back here, it feels like home. It’s comfortable. Perhaps it’s this particular trail that’s bringing up all these feelings, or maybe it’s just being back out on A TRAIL that reminds me this is where my heart belongs. Either way, I’m glad I’m here.
DAILY SUMMARY
HIGHLIGHTS
- A beautiful, warm day to hike in January
- Finding the water cache at Scissors Crossing still quite full
- The perfect campsite out on ridge with views for miles!
CHALLENGES
- Needing a podcast to distract me from the afternoon sun
- Lamenting my choice to wear these darn trails shoes that are tearing up my feet