I was on
the trail early this morning as I was anxious to make miles before the sun
started to drain the energy from my body. In doing so, I was immediately
reminded of the Willie Nelson song, “On the road again, just can’t wait to get
on the road again…” The trail moved upward into the narrow gorge of
Mission Canyon, crisscrossing the stream innumerable times. At times, the
climb was steep and I had to resort to counting units of eight steps to ensure
that I made progress up the mountain. I was alone on the trail, but I
knew I could be passed at any time by hikers moving at a faster pace.
I no
sooner had this thought when I heard noises behind me. Turning around, I
saw two creatures approaching me with a big dog on a leash. From their
appearance and dress I thought I was seeing characters from Lord of the Rings. They looked like hikers,
but I didn’t recognize them; I had never seen them before on the trail.
They were two young men with pronounced dark beards, dark, matted,
dreadlock hair, dark hats and clothing, and carrying backpacks that seemed out
of style and out of date for thru-hikers; and, as if to emphasize their
vagabond appearance, they had an assortment of cooking pots and camping gear
hanging from their packs.
Both were
carrying miniature crossbows with sights, and one was carrying an instrument
that resembled a guitar. Instantly, I recognized that this little combo
of three was the rambunctious hikers I heard the day before who had been
singing, strumming, and barking under the cottonwood trees. Everyone has
a story, and I was anxious to hear theirs.
We
chatted; they told me their names, but I neglected to write them down, so I
don’t remember them. They said they were brothers from Southern
California and were intent on hiking the entire PCT. They hadn’t done any
hiking before; this was their first venture. As for the miniature
crossbows, they said it was their intention to forage for food along the way,
to live off the land as much as possible. I passed them later in the day
as they were setting up camp. They said they liked to hike at night as it was
easier on their dog. After this encounter, I would never see them again.
As a side
note, after finishing my hike, I saw a YouTube video of these two young men
performing at Kennedy Meadows South. They are very gifted musicians, and
I should like to have heard their performance. As always, things are
never as they seem.
The trail
continued its upward climb, and I continued counting to eight and resting
often. There is a heaviness deep in my lungs that just doesn’t allow me
to suck in sufficient air to oxygenate the blood flowing throughout my
body. There’s no pain, just an irritation and I have to cajole my body to
keep it moving, because it always wants to sit down and rest. Eventually,
the trail summits out at 8,750 feet, the highest point the trail will reach in
the San Gorgonio Mountains. From this vantage point, I can view the
Mojave Desert off to the east, and a few miles farther up the trail, Lake
Baldwin and Gold Mountain - geographical features associated with Big Bear Lake
will come into view.
By 1:00
p.m. I was starting to drag; I was on autopilot as I moved along the trail.
Sometimes the trail was in the trees, and at other times it contoured
around barren hillsides covered with a variety of bushes and shrubbery and it
always traversed in and around gullies and ravines. As I shuffled up the
trail, my ears picked up on the sound of rubber tires on asphalt, and
presently, I could see the movements of cars on Highway 38 below the
trail.
Rounding the corner of yet another hill, and starting a gradual
descent, I glanced ahead and saw people on the trail, and they were not moving. Coming closer, I saw what appeared to be trail magic, and indeed, it was.
It was Aloha, Toots Magoot's husband, who I met a few days before at Ziggy
and the Bear’s hangout.
Aloha was
not hiking the trail, but supporting his wife on her PCT hike. There were
many roads that came near or crisscrossed the PCT, and he would arrange to meet
her and her friend, Tears for Beers, at these crossings or in trail towns such
as Idyllwild or Big Bear Lake, and out of the goodness of his heart, provided
trail magic for them and others moving along the trail. On this occasion,
he had set up four camp chairs, and lugged up the hill from his car parked
alongside the road at Onyx Summit, several cases of bottled water, Gatorade,
soda pop, and boxes of fruit, candy, chips, cookies, muffins, cupcakes, and a
large bottle of Ibuprofen.
What a
treat it was to sit and relax for a moment with a couple of cold Mountain Dews,
a handful of potato chips, an orange, several cookies, and five pieces of Red
Vine licorice. Middle-age hikers Towers and Thirsty Boots are also enjoying
the refreshments, and in between cupcakes and cold soda pops, they spread their
tents out on the ground to dry them out following a rainstorm the previous
night.
We were
all glad to see one another, and the trail magic that Aloha had provided once again
reaffirmed my conviction that all people are inherently good, that they care
about others, and given the opportunity to give aid and assistance, will
perform with amazing results.
Rejuvenated
in body and spirit, I picked up my pack, swung it by one strap around my
shoulder and onto my back, readjusted the hip belt strap, stuffed an orange
into one pocket and a can of grape soda into another, waved good-bye to Aloha,
and headed on up the trail
.
From
Yogi’s guidebook and from reading hiker journals, I understood that at mile
250, I was going to see wild animals in cages. I moved along and covered
the miles as fast as I could, which interpreted, meant I walked slowly.
But, no matter, I always arrived at my intended destination.
Was I
ever tempted to stop walking and just sit? Of course, but there were
consequences for doing so. After I finished my ocean row and arrived in Miami,
Florida, via a shuttle flight from Nassau, I helped my friends from home load
the rowboat onto a flatbed trailer for transportation back to Salt Lake
City. I then flew to New York City to appear on the Today Show and participate in an interview with
Katie Couric. At the last minute, Ann Curry was substituted for Katie to
do the interview. In the course of our conversation, as I was explaining
to Ann some of the difficult times I had out on the ocean, i.e., loss of the
rudder, nearly run over by ships, boat rolling over, she asked me,
“What was
your motivation to keep rowing?” I quickly replied, without even
thinking, “To get home, as no one was going to come out there and row for me.”
It’s the
same with hiking the PCT; my motivation to keep going is to get home, which
means crossing the Canadian border, as there is no one who is going to come out
and walk for me.
At mile
250, I crossed a dirt road that appeared to be the entrance to a ranch.
The entrance was flanked on either side by a tall pine tree with a sign
that hung between them, which read Cienaga Creek Ranch. Next door to this
private ranch which had cabins for rent, was property belonging to Randy
Miller, whose profession was training animals to perform in movies. The
following was taken from Mr. Miller's website - Predators in Action:
“Randy
Miller’s Predators in Action
is a totally unique, accredited company that specializes in location and
studio-trained exotic animals. Our magnificent lions, tigers, leopards,
cougars, wolves and grizzly bears appear in films, television, commercials,
print advertisement, and live shows.” ( Miller)
The PCT
followed right beside Miller’s property, which was protected by a
twelve-foot-high chain-link fence. Beyond the fence were the enclosures
which housed the animals. The cages appeared to be fairly large allowing
the animals freedom to roam, and from my vantage point outside the fence, I
could see several large bears pacing back and forth within their housing.
Coming around a corner of the trail, I found Aloha providing a wonderful bit of trail magic.
An exceptionally large house on the outskirts of Big Bear.
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