Desert Oasis

This morning, May 10th, was just about as perfect as it gets.  It is warm, sunny, and we enjoy the heck out of the campsite at Anza-Borrego, just sitting in the sun and reading.  Later on, we went to the visitor center and talked to a nice man who recommended several hikes.  Love these park rangers.  They know their parks and have been so helpful in recommending things to do that you don't really get from the guidebooks.  And, usually, they have just been hiking where you want to go and can tell you what to look for in the way of what flowers are blooming, wild animals are there, etc.  We decide to pack a bite to eat and some water and head to an oasis, back in a canyon, before it gets too hot.  It was about 2 miles back to the oasis, through a winding canyon where everybody else but us saw big horn sheep!  Around the last bend, we see probably 30-40 California Fan Palms, all clumped together around the source of a little stream.  Interestingly, the guidebook says that often, where you have an oasis like this, it is due to a fault in the earth's crust which allows the ground water to seep up to the surface. 

Afterwards, I'm afraid that's it for the hiking for me today.  After 4 miles in the beating sun, we go back to the visitor center and enjoy the history and geology exhibit and the film.  We are beginning to run into people from all over the world who have come to see some of our wonderful American natural treasures.  Makes you proud.

"Zero Days"

It is May 6th, and in hiker terms, we are taking a few "Zero Days", which means we are doing something fun.  We had breakfast at the Julian Lodge and had a nice conversation with the manager and fellow travelers, a couple of motorcyclists from Arizona.  We then toured this great little town, went to the local wildflower show and then to the outdoor store for a bird book.  Want to know what we are looking at, and thought we needed a book of Western Birds.  We were right.  There are a lot of differences in the birds you see out here.  We then went to Cuyamaca Rancho State Park where we got a campsite (after we had another piece of pie).  Spent the next couple of days touring around by car and seeing an old gold mine, and an old mission.  On Saturday, the 8th, we drove over to Ramona to go to a bluegrass festival, which was advertised on a poster in Julian.  However, when we got there, it was so sparsely attended, that we decided not to spend the $30 each, and had a nice Mexican lunch instead, for half the price.  Took a very scenic drive back to camp, stopping at the park visitor center to see the display and learn about the area.  As we were parking the van, someone pulled into a non-parking slot next to us, rather hastily, and just as I am about to say something to John about the other guy's driving (and parking), they get out and usher an older woman (even older than I am!) out and holler for help.  She had been bitten by a rattlesnake and her leg had swollen up rather quickly.  So much for my being judgmental. 

On Sunday, May 9th, we left Cuyamaca Rancho and went back to Anza-Borrego Desert State Park, which I really wanted John to see.  He is nursing some very sore feet, so this has been a good break.

Half on My Own

Was just waking up when John called.  Again, he is not doing well.  It is the 5th of May, and he has been hiking for 5 days total.  However, he can't eat, and is getting very weak.  He wants me to meet him where the trail crosses the road.  I break camp, which isn't too difficult, as I only had a red and white checkered tablecloth on the picnic table, held down by several rocks.  Everything else was already in the van, so just took off and drove to Julian, which is a great little western town.  John will call when he gets close to the road where I can pick him up.  I spent most of the day in Julian, just walking the streets, sitting in the car reading, and generally looking suspicious.  John had not called.  Finally, I drove out to the place where I believed the trail crossed the road.  Saw some Border Patrol there, so figured I was pretty close.  Parked the car near the Border Patrol and waited, and waited.  No John.  Finally, I got out and asked the kindly Border Patrol guy if I could use his porta-potty, which was perched on the back of his pickup.  Nothin' doin'.  Umph!  Nevermind.  I drove down the road and did my own thing.

Finally, John shows up with a fellow hiker and we spend the rest of the afternoon shuttling worn-out hikers back into town, where we discover that Mom's Pie Company, which put Julian on the map, has free pie and ice cream for hikers (and hiker supporters!).  Apple crumb with vanilla ice cream.  Almost worth the (all-day) wait! We are sharing a long table with some young men who are also attempting the hike, but detoured when they heard about the free pie.  I remind them that this Sunday is Mother's Day~~call home.  (Busybody!)

We get a room at the Julian Lodge, get cleaned up and retired (as they say in the old western movies) to the Julian Grille for a great dinner.  John was asleep by 8.

On My Own

May 4th.  Well, after last night's steak dinner, John is  rejuvenated and  decided today to give it another go.  I dropped him off near the trail where I picked him up yesterday, went back to the motel, exercised to a tv program, reorganized the van and took off toward Anza-Borrego Desert State Park.  I am camping in a box canyon in which there are about a dozen campsites of about an acre apiece.  Each campsite has a covered shelter with picnic table and some have fireplaces.  Was surprised at how the wind whips down from the top of the mountains into this canyon.  Better have everything clamped down, or it's gone.  From my weather studies (I have read 3 weather books in the last year attempting to understand the un-understandable) I think what happens is that the lower elevation desert where I am warms up faster in the daytime, warm air rises, and that creates a vacuum down here into which the cooler air from the tops of the surrounding mountains rushes in.  Look out Weather Channel, here I come!

Before we had started on this trip, John built me a 'sleeping platform', complete with padding and indoor/outdoor carpet,  for the back of the van.  It even is hinged so that you can prop yourself up in bed and read.  Being alone, I didn't really want to deal with tents, etc., especially in areas which have snakes and/or bears.  I think this car camping thing will work just fine, thank you.  Am feeling pretty proud of myself tonight, being on my own out in the wilderness and not being afraid~~if I was, I wouldn't admit it, anyway.

First Leg - 42 miles down, 2618 to go

On the Road with Pat
Description of our road trip west begins with the blog entry "Go West Old Man (Woman)" - scroll down to the the Label 2010 October 15 Western Road Trip on the right side of the screen.

Well, here it is Monday, May 3, and John has completed the first 42 miles of his trip, (this was our first 'meet up') and he doesn't look too well. In fact, neither of us feels well at all. I am convinced for me it is the altitude. At 6,000 feet, and very dry, we are not used to this. We both are very tired, and I'm sure John is dehydrated. We came back to the motel room (yes, I am still 'cheating' with the motel room and not camping) and took a nap. In fact, I took two. Then, John drank a quart of milk, had a snack and started feeling better. We both felt good enough, in fact, to go out for a steak dinner. Feeling better now! We have lived in two deserts before, and need to get back into the habit of realizing how much more liquids you need to take in. You don't even realize you are getting dehydrated, as the sweat evaporates as soon as it hits the skin. We're learning.

On the Trail with John

The gradual grades and well maintained trails make it easy to enjoy the beauty of this superficially desolate region. Sweeping vistas capture your 'far distance' eye while wildflowers abound all around you: yucca, creosote, brittle bush, and cactus.

Mile 1 Marker (Someone with a Sense of Humor)


Yucca

Hiking alone, I find myself talking to myself (who else?)in conversations limited usually to one word. "Wow!!!" I whisper repeatedly as I crest another ridge and glimpse the mountains and deserts melding into a distant haze.





Given the fact that I did nothing fitness wise to prepare for this adventure, I am pleased with being able to make reasonable mileage. By 3:00, I am about 17 miles north of Mexico, seeing less discarded clothing and litter left by undocumented workers crossing the border, fewer air patrols, few other hikers. Having descended a steep ravine to a pleasant, tree lined creek, I face a steep ascent, beyond which is a commercial campground. I'm tired, hot and have no one to disappoint by stopping early, so I decide to call it a successful first day and camp by the stream.

As I'm setting up my tent, I hear the low rumble of a car. Soon a Border Patrol vehicle appears and stops. I exchange pleasantries with the Border Agent and, then, the he asks, "Have you seen anybody come by here?"

"No, except for a couple of backpackers. Why?"

"We spotted 3 men crossing border awhile back and are trying to locate them. Are you planning on camping here?" (I guess the pitched tent gave me away.)

"Yeah, I was thinking about it. Will I be okay here?"

A long pause. "Yeah...you'll probably be okay. They usually don't bother anyone. Anyway, stay alert and I'll check back with you later." He drives off.

"Probably be okay"..."probably." I think to myself. "They USUALLY don't bother...." Well, "probably" means "probably" and "usually" means "usually. They don't mean "will" or "never".

Now I look around and think, "You know, it's early yet and maybe it would be a good idea to get the steep climb out of the way this afternoon. Actually, I'm feeling much better, a bit rejuvenated." And so, I press on to the top of the ridge, find a great spot just off the trail and set up camp...again.

Soon, I hear a hardy "Hey there!" I turn and see a healthy looking young woman, late 20s, introducing herself as "Moonshadow", a fellow Thru-hiker. (I will now be plagued with the refrain "I'm being followed by a moonshadow...moonshadow, moonshadow" running through my head for the next several days.)

"You planning on camping here?" she asks. Apparently, it doesn't take a trained government agent to penetrate the obvious.

Glancing back at my tent, I say, "Yeah, I was thinking about it."

"Nice spot....You think it's safe?"

"Yeah, I think so," I respond (assuming she's concerned about border crossers).

"So, you're not worried about mountain lions?"

"Mountain lions?" Surprised...."No, no, I don't think so."

"Well, good, that's good. I think I'll find a spot nearby if that's okay."

"Sure, sure. I saw a pretty nice spot just a couple of hundred feet up the trail."

"Alright, I'll check it out...Listen, if I see a cougar and scream out, you'll come running right?"

"Sure, sure thing, but I don't think we'll have any trouble." I say reassuringly.

That night, I slept soundly, no cougars, no screams. In the morning, I pack up and head out. Moonshadow has already broken camp. I catch up to her and another Thru Hiker, Miguel, from San Diego, later in the morning. We hike along together, sharing life's stories (Moonshadow recently resigned her position with the Appalachian Conservancy and Miguel just lost his Medical Engineering position and is using the hike to reassess his future). Soon we separate, each hiking his/her own hike. The next morning, I catch up with Miguel shortly after passing through some kind of old artillery range, posted with scary warnings.

From Western Trip

Miguel and I hike through beautiful pine woods to the Laguna Mountain Lodge where Pat awaits.

This last day has been really rough. I haven't been able to eat hardly anything over the 2 and a half days I've been out. I don't feel well at all. Maybe it's the altitude, although we're "only" at 6000 feet. Other than that, I'm doing pretty good, a few blisters but nothing serious.

And...he's off!

First thing Saturday morning, May 1st, we headed to the border to drop John off at the start of the trail. It was a little confusing, finding the dirt road which led to the start of the trail, but once on the right track, we spotted the unending line of dark brown corrugated metal wall which is the border. Surprisingly, the whole thing felt 'creepy'. I wasn't expecting that. Maybe it was that the whole place is crawling with Border Patrol, or the fact that Arizona just passed a sweeping anti-immigrant law, which was being contested in court and that scheduled today are protests around the country against the law. Or, maybe it was that it is out in the middle of nowhere, nothing much in site, except suspicious-looking police, and knowing that the people who chance to cross the border can be desperate--and some can be drug dealers.

Mexican US Border

Whatever the feeling was, it soon passed, as we were spotted by the Border Patrol who waited for us to approach them. They were sitting in their truck with binoculars sweeping the hills behind the great fence. I should say that the metal fence is one line of defense, then a dirt road, then a regular wire fence, then another dirt road, over which the Border Patrol constantly roam.

The obligatory pictures taken, with a kiss and a reassuring 'I love you', John was off on the trail. The Border Patrol agent said John was about the third person that morning to start on the trail. For my part, I went back to the motel, took care of some business including calling our daughter to wish her a happy birthday, and was off to take some pictures. I took a beautiful ride along the border, which was populated by small ranches, horses, and very nice houses. I was surprised at the prosperity of the places, as well as the fact that they were apparently not too concerned about being on the border, as there were no walls, bars on the windows, etc. Just people living in a beautiful, country setting.

John at Start of PCT-Border Fence in Background

I'm not usually the picture-taker in our family, so John had given me some instructions on how to use his Nikon D-4 digital camera. I quickly found that, "Hey, this is kinda fun." But, also, frustrating. I feel I cannot adequately convey the majestic scenery and the feel of this place in pictures. The landscape is truly dramatic. Big boulders, spring flowers, green pastures laced with yellow flowers--horses grazing. Nice ranch houses~~not like farms in the east, but REALLY western~~just like in the movies! (Including the fences; love those fences.)

However, I swear, every single time I stopped to take a picture, here would come a Border Patrol agent to check to see if I (or the car) was all right. I have very mixed feelings about that. On the one hand, I am a woman alone, and if my car (with its 245,710 miles on it) should break down, that could be bad. On the other hand, enough already! In talking to a woman who lives here that I met at an overlook, she is fed up with having to be stopped by the same person every day as she goes to and from work and the grocery store. She said she finally told the guy, "Look, I come by here and see you every day. Don't you know me yet?" Ah, life in a police state.

Go West Old Man (& Woman)

After a winter on the boat in which it was just too cold to go anywhere (people were coming back from the Bahamas to the southern US, as the Bahamas were too cold!), we spent a few weeks in Ohio, seeing family and getting ready for our trip out West, where John will attempt to hike the Pacific Crest Trail. John and our youngest, Brad, walked the entire Appalachian Trail three summers ago, and we were hoping that Brad would again accompany John on this venture. Alas, Brad decided that he needed to engage in more serious pursuits (such as a real career, etc.), so John will be on his own. You know, you try to raise your kids right, and what happens????

 

Taos Market

After all the preparation, visiting, and seeing Brad participate in a community theater production of "Never Been Kissed", (he was typecast as the heartthrob) we started west on Monday, April 26. The first night found us in Tulsa. We spent night number two in Taos, then toured Santa Fe and Albuquerque's old town. Along the way, the land gradually morphed from green pastureland to scrub vegetation, to lots of rocks, to mesas, mountains~~all the while getting dryer. We saw a herd of pronghorn antelope, lots of blowing red dirt, cattle, wind farms, canyons, tumbleweed and one dead armadillo.

We took our time getting to California and the start of the trail, as it had been snowing like crazy in the Sierras, so we thought we may as well enjoy the trip. Night three was in Gallop, New Mexico. We next went to Flagstaff, and while having lunch at an old style diner, John just stops in mid-sentence and stares out the front of the restaurant. I turned around to see what the big deal was, and low and behold, its snowing! (Flagstaff is about 7,000 feet.) We took a scenic route after lunch from Flagstaff west and ran into a ton of snow and fierce winds. It was beautiful with all the evergreens. We turned and drove south down the Colorado River to Lake Havasu for night four. Lake Havasu is where the London Bridge is (of course). It is also a desert town on a lake, which just doesn't look like it belongs there. But nice, nevertheless.

We left Lake Havasu Friday morning, stopping for lunch in Yuma (which was surprisingly green~~lots of farms and orchards).

Crossing into California was like crossing into another world. Almost right away you run into the Imperial Sand Dunes (where some of the Star Wars films were done). Then, the land turns into~~~just giant piles of rocks. It was so dramatic and unexpected. As you get on the other side of the mountains which trap the clouds on the west side, everything turns green. It immediately looked more prosperous. We went up to Mount Laguna to pick up some equipment for ice climbing (yes, you read that right) that John had forwarded to him via general delivery. We were talking to the nice man in the general store in the Mount Laguna state forest about camping sites, when he informed us that it was going to be 26 degrees that night, so we opted for a rather rustic motel room (at a not too rustic price). So that's it. We're here, and John is eager to get started. I will drop him off at the trail head at the Mexican border in the morning (that's Saturday, May 1) and we will meet again here in Mount Laguna in 2-3 days.

Octotillo

The Pacific Crest Trail runs from the Mexican border near Campo, California, to Manning Park, British Columbia, Canada, a distance of 2660 miles, through five of the seven 'life zones' which exist in North America, all but tropical and arctic. About 100-150 people hike the whole thing a year, passing through the Sierra Nevada mountains, Sequoia National Park, Kings Canyon, Yosemite, Lake Tahoe, and Lassen Volcanic National Park in California, Crater Lake and Mt. Hood in Oregon, and Mt. Rainier in Washington (and everything in between).