Next Steps and Questions Answered

The previous entry was my last for S. CA. I will return to the Pacific Crest Trail (PCT) in early August to hike through the High Sierras, likely starting from Kennedy Meadows, south of Mount Whitney. I'll trek as long as the weather allows, hopefully through mid-October, and may make it as far north as Lake Tahoe. The High Sierras is the most scenic section of the PCT in CA so please plan on visiting this blog later in the year to see it for yourself.

Let me mention too that my trail name for this adventure is "Lorax." That's the character from the Dr. Seuss book by the same name who "speaks for the trees" and objects when they are all cut down. This trip showed me firsthand the beauty of the wildlands of S. CA and the many benefits of protecting them. We all need to "speak for the trees" and work to sustain our forests and wild nature around us.

I have also been asked about my daily routine and food. I set my alarm for 5 and am usually on the trail at first light at 6. This proved useful in the desert to get in hiking in the cooler hours; I'd then nap in the shade between 1 and 3 PM during the heavy heat and continue the walk as temperatures began to drop. I'd set up camp around 7, eat, watch the sunset and be asleep as dark fell.

Speaking of food -- in all my previous backpacks I'd cooked meals, usually hot oatmeal for breakfast and freeze-dry packages for dinner as well as soup and tea or coffee. This time I wanted to save the weight and bulk of a stove and cookware so I used dry food. I ate cereal for breakfast and for lunch had a mealbar made by Pemmican. I recommend them as filling, chewy and high in protein and carbohydrates. My favorite is the fruit and nut bar. For dinner I'd have one or two sports bars. After trying many kinds I settled on Clif bars. This was not gourmet dining but it maintained me just fine. It also meant that when I got to town that "real" food tasted fabulous.

May 26, 2005 to June 2: Idyllwild to Big Bear Lake

Most long-distance hikers, like George and me, were bypassing the snowbound, highest terrain of the San Jacinto's, from Saddle Junction through Fuller Ridge. (Fortunately, I had done a three-day backpack in 2003 to San Jacinto Peak and had seen much of the gorgeous trail skipped this year.) I was dropped off early at the gated Black Mountain road to the Pacific Crest Trail (PCT), facing a long uphill just to get back to the trail. Within moments, however, a trail angel appeared in the person of a Forest Service volunteer opening the gate to drive their vehicle up to the top to staff a fire lookout. Lucky me to get a ride almost the whole way to the PCT!

I was also in a chipper mood because the hike would be all downhill for two days, from about 7,000' at the intersection of the PCT and the Black Mountain road to about 1,000' at I-10 in San Gorgonio Pass. Indeed, I-10 appeared as a tiny thread far below. Across the pass loomed San Gorgonio Mountain, at 11,500 feet the highest point in Southern California. (San Gorgonio Mountain.)

As the trail switchbacked steadily down, the sheer north face of San Jacinto Peak, with its multiple avalanche chutes, came more into view. (North face of San Jacinto Peak.) Here's me perched on a rock in front of the massive bulk of the mountain. (PK with north face of peak.)

About halfway down, George caught up with me, again looking very tired. He had arrived early at our meeting spot at the gate and had accepted a ride to the top with another Forest Service staffer. However, he then erred and went south rather than north from the PCT intersection and had hiked back into the snow. By the time he turned around he had lost a few hours. Anyway, we were able to find a flat spot and set up our tents early for him to recover from his strenuous day.

After long hours of downhill the next day we finally reached Snow Canyon, which took us to San Gorgonio Pass, the lowest point on the PCT in CA at 1,200 feet. The trail is marked with posts across the sandy pass; looking back at San Jacinto Peak is like staring at a cloud it is so high. (San Jacinto Peak from the pass.) The desert floor was decorated with an occasional bush of Angels Trumpet. (Angels Trumpet.)

After a hot slog across the pass we rested in the shade under I-10. George was preparing to hitch-hike on the highway to the nearest airport and then head home to the Bay area. At 69, he was pleased to have finished such a long and tough hike; I was proud of him too for not giving up in the face of so many hardships. Off he went to seek his ride while I pushed on in the heavy heat, facing an ascent back to 9,000'.

The next day I hiked through Gold Canyon towards the Mesa Wind Farm, with ridges full of spinning windmills making energy without pollution in the wind tunnel of the pass. (Windmills.) The PCT now was on land administered by the Bureau of Land Management (BLM.) Soon, the trail entered a designated wilderness -- the San Gorgonio Wilderness -- containing both national forest and BLM acres. This was exciting for me since I had never backpacked through BLM wilderness before.

I was startled by the size of Whitewater Canyon, seen here from the PCT. (Whitewater Canyon.) Snowmelt from the mountains created this wide riverbed. The trail was difficult to follow through the canyon with the footpath often submerged in wetlands. It was even more difficult to follow across the sandy riverbed because the snowmelt swept away trail markers every spring. Fortunately, the guidebook directed me to some red rock outcrops where the PCT turned to cross the canyon.

But then I came to the Whitewater River itself -- a raging torrent of icy water thigh and sometimes waist deep! I hunted up and down the banks and found a spot where a long log had wedged in some rapids, allowing me to wade the river holding onto the log. Here's my tent next to the spot where I crossed, with the log visible. (Whitewater River.)

The trail began to ascend more steeply the next day when it started to follow Mission Creek, its route for the next twelve miles or so. Not only was it up, up, up but the PCT forded Mission Creek over twenty times! Again, I often held onto logs as I walked through the cold and fast waters of the creek. (Mission Creek with log.) It was days before my boots dried out. But it was beautiful camping in the narrow canyon shaded by cottonwoods and sycamores and dotted with flowers. (Lupine; prickly-pear cactus.)

One morning a hiker by the name of Dave caught up with me, quite agitated. He was in his tent at dusk the day before when he heard a sound. He looked out at a mountain lion about five feet away! It slowly retreated but kept staring at him. He held up his trekking poles to appear larger and the cat eventually left.

The guidebook mentioned that cattle no longer grazed along Mission Creek because a wildlife group called the Wildlands Conservancy purchased some inholdings within the wilderness, including the grazing rights to BLM land. Thank you, my friends.

It took me three days to ascend the 5,000' up Mission Creek. It was slow and hard going. I stopped early one day and chatted with a hiker who got lost for five hours trying to cross Whitewater Canyon and ford the river. Mosquitoes were also aggressive for a day. The creek became even more pretty as it turned into cascades and finally narrowed down to a spring. (Sign.) At long last the PCT reached high country again, with snow nearby on Ten Thousand Foot Ridge. (Tree against snow.)

Sadly, time had run out on my hike in S. CA; I had to return to the Bay area to do this journal and tend to some other obligations. However, I was satisfied with this end point because I had completed almost three hundred miles of the PCT and had seen great beauty and met the challenges of terrain and weather.

My last night I camped in a meadow at the headwaters of the Santa Ana River. The breezes were very cool coming down off the snow on San Gorgonio Mountain. It was amazing that just days earlier I had been hiking across sandy desert in triple-digit heat. That's the wonderful diversity of the PCT!

I exited the next day down the Santa Ana River Trail to Highway 38, also called the "Rim of the World," close to Big Bear Lake. My goal was to hitch-hike down the mountain into the 1-10 corridor where I could rent a car and drive back home. This was my first attempt to thumb a ride on this trip and I had no idea what to expect. Fortunately, I had a secret weapon -- a purple bandana given us at the Kick-Off with the slogan "Hiker to Town." This was a gift to the Class of 2005 from Gottago. (PK with bandana.)

I stepped to the side of the road and held out my slogan. Within fifteen minutes a van stopped and the driver welcomed me warmly inside. They were an older couple from Big Bear Lake -- Alice and Laney -- who regularly helped out PCT hikers. In fact, they had been to the Kick-Off and recognized the bandana! They drove me all the way down the mountain, located a rental car outlet and took me to its door -- another blessing from trail angels.

On the way through L.A. I visited my cousin Mike Chieffo, an accomplished actor, and went for a hike with him on the PCT in the Angeles National Forest past big pines down to the lush Rattlesnake Creek. Here's Mike against the backdrop of Twin Peaks in the San Gabriel Wilderness. (Mike and mountains; sign.) As a thank-you present for the hospitality of Mike -- and his wife, Beth Grant, also a superb actress, and daughter Mary -- I brought them an overside Coulter pine cone from the woods as a centerpiece for their dining room table.

May 16, 2005 to May 19: Anza to Idyllwild

The Bear took me early to the trailhead for the San Jacinto mountains on the Pines-to-Palms Highway. At the trailhead is a monument with the route of the PCT through this range and and a memorial to a trail worker who died during its construction. (PK at monument.) The PCT was now in the San Bernardino National Forest, starting at 5,000' in elevation, on its way to 9,000' near San Jacinto Peak.

Rested after my zero day I hiked past the creamy boulders of Penrod Canyon, shown here in the mid-ground against the snowy crest of the high country. (Long Vista.) As the trail climbed, pines returned, replacing chapparal and cactus. Weighing in at over five pounds apiece were the cones of the Coulter pine, the heaviest pine cones in the world. (Photo of cones next to my hiking gloves.)

As I got to the crest, the so-called "Desert Divide," the wind became furious, likely over fifty mph; it was a struggle just to stay on the trail. To escape this fury I dropped down a side trail to Live Oak Spring at the bottom of this valley. (Sawtooth ridge.) Even in the shelter of the forest, my tent rattled all night in the wind.

I ascended back to the Desert Divide the next day and came across many trees "flagged" by the strong wind. (Photo of tree shaped by the wind.) I also got closer views of the snow awaiting me. (Basin with snow.) The PCT descended through a lush forest of incense cedar to Fobes Saddle, where I spent the next night, and then shot almost straight up to Spitler peak, entering the San Jacinto Wilderness. (Sign.)

It was slow going through a jumble of cliffs and canyons. (View north.) The next night I stayed right on the knife-edge of the Desert Divide, looking east thousands of feet below to the desert of Palm Springs. (Photo of crest; view down to desert.) Tiny patches of snow lingered in the shadows of the east-facing cliffs -- more a novelty than a problem.

This next picture shows the PCT winding around Red Tahquitz, the peak with the iron color. (Dark peak.) Around this corner, at over 8,000' in elevation the trail entered a north-facing basin -- and disappeared beneath a blanket of deep snow! For a while I followed the main path of footsteps in the snow but soon the steps began to scatter. Plus, I was starting to break through the crust with first one foot and then the other -- a dangerous practice called "postholing."

So I stopped, took a food and water break and assessed what to do. My goal was to reach a side trail to the PCT at a place called Saddle Junction, where I could then descend to the town
of Idyllwild. I decided to follow a stream and drop about 1,000' in elevation to where the snow was patchy and I could walk safely on bare ground. Having done that, I stopped again and used my map and compass to set a bearing that would take me to Saddle Junction. I determined this to be North-Northwest or about 280 degrees.

According to the map it looked to be about two miles of cross-country hiking on this bearing to reach Saddle Junction. The map also showed that this route would cross the Caramba Trail, which also led to Saddle Junction (although finding an unblazed trail in snowy woods was not something I should count on.) I used my digital compass to follow the bearing (and had a manual compass in reserve) and hiked across meadows, through brush and around ravines.

At a rest stop I spied a sign in the distance. I rushed over to it. It was a marked trail junction for the Caramba Trail and a trail to Skunk Cabbage Meadow. This located me exactly on the map and put me on the trail to Saddle Junction. Oh Happy Day!

It was still a challenge to follow the trail through the snow but at least I was not postholing. Plus the route went through stands of massive Jeffrey pine. (One delight of this tree is that if you put your nose next to the bark and take a deep breath it smells like butterscotch.) By mid-afternoon I got to Saddle Junction and began down the many switchbacks on the Devil's Slide trail to town. En route I admired the sheer granite face of Lily Rock, a magnet for rock climbers in S. CA. (Lily Rock.) Some local folks gave me a ride to my motel and before long I was digging into a yummy trout dinner and calming down after the drama of the day.

Idyllwild is a charming mountain town, with everything a thru-hiker could want. Here's me at the town center. (PK with totem pole.) On Friday night I went to an informative talk by Bill Havert with the Coachella Valley Mountains Conservancy about their local efforts to purchase land critical for wildlife and recreation. Saturday the town had a fair to celebrate Earth Day with music and booths for environmental causes. I met the new local staff for The Wilderness Society, Geary Hund, who will work to oversee the planning for the new Santa Rosa San Jacinto
National Monument recently established by Congress for the area.

Coming back from the library on Saturday morning I heard a familiar voice behind me, wheeled around and it was George -- alive and well but looking totally exhausted. He had gotten lost when he hit the snow and spent a night off trail. Fortunately he came upon some folks with navigational skills and followed them out. He said he was doing one more section of the PCT and asked if we could team up. We agreed to bypass the next dozen or so miles of the snowbound PCT and resume our hike where the trail began to descend from the high country. Here's George with the town mascot (Grey squirrel.)

I also visited Palm Springs on this break and rode the tram back up again into the alpine forest -- much easier this time! (PK and San Jacinto Peak.) Here's another picture looking down the crest of the range. (Desert Divide.)

May 9, 2005 to May 15: Warner Springs Ranch to Anza

After a day of non-hiking -- with hot springs and ice cream as the highlights -- I was in a very cheerful mood as I returned to the Pacific Crest Trail (PCT.) To match my spirits the trail was beautiful and inviting. Once again, red flowers carpeted the ground, blending with the red blossoms of this beaver-tail cactus. (Red ground and cactus.) To the east of the PCT towered Hot Springs Mountain in the Los Coyotes Indian Reservation, in sight for over two days. (Hot Springs Mountain.)

The PCT led through a canyon containing Ague Caliente Creek, where I found a tree-shaded campsite next to a pure side stream. (Pristine stream.) As on much of the PCT, hummingbirds were buzzing everywhere -- two or three kinds. My favorite in its male plumage was a brilliant green with a dramatic orange throat that flashed in the sun.

Despite all this, I was somewhat glum over the news I had learned that on May 5th Bush had reversed a Forest Service policy from early 2001 to protect eligible wilderness candidates from road construction that would destroy their wild character. These national forest wildlands, called "roadless areas," totalled over four million acres in CA alone, including many crossed by the PCT. For much of my career at The Wilderness Society I'd worked to preserve roadless areas around the country; maybe someday the policy would be re-instated.

The PCT climbed past fields of creamy-colored boulders (Boulders) and past mountains with rocky shoulders. (Mountain.) The next night I was at Lost Valley Spring, where I was spoiled again with fresh water bubbling from the hillside. I also encountered there Susan and Ralph Alcorn from Oakland, whom I had met at one of my REI talks in March. Susan is the author of a book on backpacking for women and is an active promoter of backcountry hiking. How fun to run into them at such a remote spot!

For the next few days the temperature was turned up -- HOT, HOT, HOT. It did make for happy Great Horned Lizards; I must have seen two or three dozen of these warlike, prehistoric-looking creatures moving slowly around. Shade became scarce too as the PCT entered an area massively burned a decade ago. There were miles of charred pine trunks casting their thin shadows. (Dead trees.) Burnt manzanita bushes were scattered among the rocks too. (Burnt bushes.) Of course, it will all grow back eventually. Meanwhile, it made for incredible open vistas of the landscape, like this basin covered almost totally with rocks. (Basin.)

On the slopes of Bucksnort Mountain I ascended into another state wilderness -- Sheep Canyon Wilderness -- named after the bighorn sheep native to the area. With no flat terrain anywhere I actually set up my tent on the trail itself that night -- as an incentive too to get an early start the next day. Waking from a mid-day nap I noticed two black vultures swooping overhead; I thought: all I'm missing here are some rattlesnakes!

Sure enough, before long, I was approaching a bush along the PCT when a really loud rattle startled me and made me jump back. It was a diamond-backed rattlesnake, about as thick as my forearm and about four feet long. It never retreated an inch but kept flicking its tongue and shaking its loud rattle. Its brown color blends it with the bush and the ground. (Rattlesnake.) Curiously, after the rattle started two wrens flew down and perched in the bush only a foot from the snake and made a furious alarm song. I guess they had a nest and young near.

Fortunately I had mailed myself powdered Gatorade to Warner Springs Ranch. It helped revive me during these days of blazing heat. I was drinking about two gallons of liquid a day! It was a blessing to reach a well-stocked water cache (Water Cache) with a local phone number for "Hiker's Oasis."

I was not planning a "zero" day but realized it would really help to be rested before starting the steep and snow-covered San Jacinto Mountains coming up. So I called the number when I got to the Paradise Corner Cafe on the Pines-to-Palms Highway. A "trail angel" by the name of Bill Jennings soon drove up and took me to the hostel in the nearby town of Anza.

What a wonderful retreat -- showers, food, laundry, place to camp, Internet access, rides to town to resupply, plus a hikers gallery of all visitors. It's run by Ziggy and The Bear with help from Bill, aka, Teutonic Knight, all devoted to hikers like family. (Photo of PK with Trail Angels.) There was one other hiker there -- George! He had gotten a ride to the hostel from further south on the PCT and was recovering from the heat. On Sunday, our zero day, we each indulged our weaknesses: he drank a giant bottle of root beer; I read both the LA and San Diego papers.

April 23, 2005 to May 8: Mexican Border to Warner Springs Ranch

What a start on my first hundred miles of the Pacific Crest Trail (PCT) -- cold, driving rain in the Laguna Mountains, baking heat in the Anza-Borrego Desert and fierce winds everywhere else. My first lesson of this trip: the PCT is not for wimps! And the second lesson: the rugged scenery, the colorful wildflowers and the community among hikers -- all made it worth it.

Every year long-distance hikers organize a celebration of the PCT at a campground at Lake Morena Park close to the start of the trail at the Mexican border. The full name of the event is the Annual Day Zero Pacific Crest Trail Kick Off (ADZPCTKO.) Over 600 hikers attended this year, a record number.

All of us aiming to thru-hike or hike long sections of the PCT this year gathered as the Class of 2005. I'm on one knee in the middle with a tan shirt -- and no beard. (Group photo of Class of 2005.) Previous "classes" also came down to have reunions, swap stories and cheer us on. Last year's group included the youngest-ever hiker to do the PCT in one season -- a ten-year old girl with the trail name of Scrambler. It was also fun to meet some of the characters well-known up and down the trail, such as Yogi, Gottago and Billy Goat. I was also happy to see my good friends from the Pacific Crest Trail Association (PCTA) -- Liz Bergeron and Mike Dawson -- who work so hard to maintain and protect the trail. (Photo of three under banner.)

Saturday, April 23rd, was jam-packed with useful talks, inspiring slide-shows and many workshops. A crowd-pleaser was the first contest for "most useless item" being carried by a thru-hiker. The winner had a detailed, written plan for the hike; number two had an eyelash curler and third prize went to the "Reverend Gizmo" who travels with a complete Bible. My favorite program was by Scott Williamson, who was the first hiker ever to do a "yo-yo" of the trail in one season --Mexico to Canada and then Canada to Mexico back again. What awesome determination!

All pumped up from the Kick-Off, I caught an early ride Sunday to the border. On the way we drove through the small town of Campo past a huge base of the Immigration and Naturalization Service with its fleet of over fifty Jeeps in plain view. The PCT begins at 3000' in elevation at a plain and simple monument next to the high metal fence along the U.S./Mexican border. (PK at monument; PK at fence.) I signed the register; thanked my drivers -- Paul and Trish from Bakersfield -- and was off.

Like much of the trail in S. CA the opening miles lead through chaparral, a community of drought-tolerant plants such as manzanita typically about five feet high. This spring was the second wettest in the region in one hundred years so the chaparral was a deep green, with flowers blooming everywhere. (Chaparral.) Prominant were the tall, creamy stalks of the yucca, called "Our Lord's Candles" by the locals, which shoot up in only thirty days. (Yucca.) Indian paintbrush also added splashes of orange and red to the trail. (Paintbrush.) Scattered among the granite boulders were also white "popcorn" flowers. (Popcorn.) Masses of yellow flowers also hung from the rocks like window baskets. (Hanging yellow flowers.)

It was also heartening that the first stream crossed by the PCT -- Campo Creek -- was full and flowing; that's a good sign that many water sources will be available. It was pretty too to see a passenger train chug past the trail. (Train.) The hike was off to a colorful start!

Shortly after crossing Highway 94, the PCT entered a large bloc of federal land run by the Bureau of Land Management (BLM.) It's a tract eligible for wilderness and has been designated the Hauser Mountain Wilderness Study Area by BLM. It contains over ten miles of the PCT. Legislation to establish wilderness here has been introduced by CA's two senators and a number of House members. The PCTA favors the measure as a way to preserve the wild setting of the trail. I am pleased to report that inholdings within the area have just been purchased by the Trust for Public Land making it an even better candidate for wilderness.

The PCT climbed the scenic canyons and rims of the area to the summit of Hauser Mountain, where I camped my first night. Hiking down a steep descent in the area the next day into Hauser Creek I reflected that this would make an excellent wilderness for Congress to designate, an apt gateway to PCT adventure.

Along Hauser Creek in the Cleveland National Forest were inviting campsites sheltered by cottonwoods and sycamores, perfect for my lunch and a nap. The PCT then entered the Forest Service's Hauser Wilderness, created by Congress in 1984, and began a steep thousand-foot climb up long switchbacks. (Hauser Canyon.)

Every hour or so helicopters passed through the canyon, probably looking for immigrants seeking to enter the U.S. A sign on the PCT warned folks in Spanish "not to expose themselves to the elements." (Sign.) I saw a couple of plaid blankets discarded in the canyon so this creek does draw a crowd.

The next day I went past the campground at Lake Morena Park and enjoyed a shower, restaurant food and fresh water and pushed on to Cottonwood Creek. Where the PCT reached the creek near a road, the Forest Service had put up a sign that it was taking steps to safeguard the Southwestern Arroyo Toad, an endangered species. Near the road the agency had put up fences along Cottonwood Creek, perhaps to prevent damage from livestock grazing or off-road vehicles. Behind the fence was a lush growth of reeds and willows along the creek. By preserving habitat for this toad, the Forest Service was no doubt also helping out the fish, the birds and the other species that rely on the streams in this dry area.

A few days later I was reading a headline story in the San Diego paper about government approval of a new drug made by a local company to treat diabetes. The drug was derived from the spit of the poisonous Gila monster, a desert lizard listed as an endangered species. This shows the value of saving rare species for possible medical benefits; perhaps someday the arroyo toad might make such a contribution.

I hiked under my first interstate, I-8, and began a three thousand foot ascent of the Laguna Mountains. I met a Forest Service trail worker who told me two inches of rain were in the forecast. The trail climbed past basalt columns spiking up from the chaparral and reached pine forests along Fred Canyon. (Columns.) I camped along a flowing mountain stream, featuring miner's lettuce on its banks, an edible plant -- the loveliest campsite so far. Cold wind whipped down the canyon all night but my tent held its warmth well. At dawn I quickly packed up and hiked off as a light patter of rain began.

Big mistake. I should have stayed in the tent, warm and dry, and waited out the storm.

As I ascended, the rain got colder and harder and the bare ridges offered no trees for shelter. I had on raingear but was concerned the deluge might last all day and even into the night so I took a side trail toward a campground -- Cibbets Flat -- where I could find tree cover. To my delight, there was a campground host in his RV who spotted me and waved me inside. A true "trail angel," Tim gave me a tea kettle of hot water and let me dry out and warm up as the rain pelted even harder. After a get-acquainted chat he then drove me to the small town at the top of the mountain where I got a motel room and watched the storm rage through the day.

Again, lesson learned -- wait out these cold, spring rains. What if it had turned to snow? Then the PCT footpath would have been covered up and very difficult to follow.

The next day dawned clear and dry, allowing me to go back down on the PCT to about where I had stopped and return to the motel on a day hike. That also let me enjoy all the stops along the Desert View Nature Trail, which runs along the PCT for a spell. One of the amazing spots was a so-called "granary tree." (Tree with holes.) This is a mature Jeffrey pine; note the many holes. It is the work of the acorn woodpecker, which digs out the holes and fills them with acorns from the nearby oaks. Wasps then come and lay eggs in the acorns, which eventually hatch. The woodpeckers return and eat the larvae. Pretty smart birds! By the way, the holes do not harm the trees.

The Laguna Mountains are a "fault-block" range, created by the collision of plates of the earth. Like the Sierra Nevada, they have a "trap-door" shape, with a dramatic escarpment on the eastern side. Thus, from the PCT hikers stare down more than 4,000' to the floor of the desert and way beyond to the Salton Sea. (View of desert; another view of desert with PK.)

Continuing north on May 1st I was buffeted by fierce winds, up to fifty mph, along the treeless ridge of Oriflamme Mountain -- so strong I could barely stand during gusts. As sunset approached, I came up upon an older fellow who was struggling with the wind and clearly wanted help finding a secure spot to camp. We hiked quickly along the ridge and found a hollow to pitch our tents without them blowing to the moon. It turned out I had met the hiker earlier; a fellow named George, he had attended my PCT talk in March at the REI store in Concord. Our paths were to cross many times over the next month.

I descended the next day out of the wind into Chariot Canyon, with a scenic creek with clear and delicious water. The PCT dropped still further to reach a water tank in Rodriguez Canyon, now on the edge of the desert, far removed from the pine forests of the Laguna Mountains. As I was leaving with full water bags, who should arrive but George, true to his trail name -- KOKO5, "keep on keeping on."

Soon thereafter, the PCT entered Anza-Borrego Desert State Park, CA's largest park, where it would pass through a series of state wilderness areas. The first of these was Granite Mountain Wilderness, dominated by a massive peak. (Granite Mountain.) The PCT contoured around the mountain, winding in and out of hidden ravines, such as this narrow wash where I was able to set up my tent. (Tent in ravine.) Hummingbirds buzzed my camp at dawn, perhaps attracted by the turquoise color of the tent.

Along with a handful of other states, CA has a system of wilderness areas on state lands. These are managed like federal wildernesses to preserve their natural condition through prohibitions on road construction and other development. The CA bill setting up the state system was passed in the 1970's. Areas have been established through legislative and administrative action.

The next highway was at Scissors Crossing, also the site of the next water cache. (Water cache.) These are put up and maintained by generous friends of the hiking community; without these caches, it would be much more difficult to get across long, waterless stretches of trail.

Carrying two gallons of water I began the steep climb up into the San Felipe Hills, within the state Grapevine Mountain Wilderness. What a botanical garden! The ground was carpeted in red flowers, highlighting the cholla cactus. (Red ground.) Tall barrel cactus were in flower amidst the rocks. (Barrel cactus.) Some teddy-bear cactus had red flowers (Cholla 1) and others showed off lime-green flowers (Cholla 2.) Distinctive too were the many ocotillo cactus, which grows a new set of green leaves after each rain and bursts out with red blossoms from each stalk. (Ocotillo.)

No shade and 100 plus temperatures make this a dreaded range for thru-hikers. I had heard stories at the Kick-Off about heat stroke in May so I took it slow, drank plenty of liquid and took mid-day naps. Thank God for the water cache halfway across the hills and for the cool winds that blew in near the end. Thus, I didn't have to seek retreat from the sun in this old mining shaft, a legacy of gold-rush days. (Mining shaft.) Here's my tent, without a fly, to take advantage of the breezes. (Flyless tent.)

During a break at Barrel Springs at the next road I chatted with a couple of admirable thru-hikers: Squeeky, from Northern Ireland, in the middle of a single-year hike of the PCT, the Appalachian Trail and the Continental Divide Trail. It's been done once; he would be the second. I wished him well and off he zoomed. And Ray, whose wife has been diagnosed with Parkinsons. He's hiking to raise money for the National Parkinsons Foundation to seek a cure for the disease.

The final section before Warner Springs Ranch was across miles of golden grasslands, a waving savannah that resembled a set from some Western, like "Bonanza." (Savannah.) It ended with a campsite in Canada Verde (Spanish for "Green Ravine") along a running stream past giant live oaks and cottonwoods, close to Paradise after all the waterless heat. (Pack on live oak.)

Warner Springs Ranch, only a mile off the PCT, was the perfect rest stop. It had everything -- good food, especially salads; Internet access, hot soaking pools; rooms at hiker rates; laundry; library and socializing with other hikers. It also has a post office, where I picked up a box of protein bars and other goodies that I'd mailed before starting. I took my first "zero" day on Sunday and called my sisters to wish them Happy Mother's Day. "Zero" day is a hiker's term for a day off, i.e., zero mileage. Just as I was leaving on Monday morning, George arrived, worn out like I was when I showed up, but still at it.

My Gear

This is my first entry since I started the hike at the Mexican border on April 24th. For about six weeks I hiked steadily north across rugged and beautiful deserts and mountains. After about 275 miles I finished up close to Big Bear Lake and returned to the Bay area to do this journal and to get ready for the next section of the Pacific Crest Trail.

Before beginning with the stories and the photos from the adventure, I thought I would go over the details of the gear that I used. In the last ten years or so backpack equipment has gotten much, much lighter. Thus, it is exciting for me to share the names and descriptions of the gear from my trip because my overall pack weight was much lighter for this trip, making for much more pleasant walking.

I worked part-time for about a year before the trip at Recreational Equipment Inc. (REI) at their store in Corte Madera, CA. I bought all my gear at REI because I was familar with the products and had confidence in them. If you want more details about any of these items you can check them out at www.rei.com. I recommend all the gear mentioned; it all worked well in addition to being light in weight.

* BACKPACK --Gregory Z-Pack. Standard backpacks for extended trips often weigh six to seven lbs. and hold over 5,000 cubic inches -- in other words, BIG and HEAVY. I have always liked the quality and good fit of Gregory packs and was impressed that the Z-Pack only weighed three and a half lbs. yet still carried almost 4,000 cubic inches.

* TENT -- Mountain Hardwear PCT 1. Being 6'3' I needed a long tent and also wanted a sturdy tent that kept out insects and handled strong winds. This one is 92" long and has a sleek yet roomy design. It weighs three lbs and eleven ozs. It also allows for the fly to be put up by itself on the poles for quick shelter or shade. It also comes with a footprint.

* SLEEPING PAD -- Thermarest Prolite 3 Short. This is a three-quarter length self-inflating pad. It weighs only thirteen ozs. and folds up to a tiny size.

* SLEEPING BAG -- REI SubKilo. This down bag is warm to 20 degrees F yet is quite light at 2lbs. 3 ozs. With the use of a compression sack it squeezes down to the size of a melon.

* BOOTS -- Lowa Renegade. Very light at 2 lbs. 3 ozs. No blisters despite days of hiking in desert heat and they dried quickly after days of fording Mission Creek. Remember to replace the store insoles with Superfeet.

* TREKKING POLES -- REI Ultralite Antishock. Poles are essential for long-distance hiking. Among the benefits is that they transfer some of the pounding pressure to the arms and shoulders. Remember to use the hand straps. Wear bicycle gloves to avoid chafing. I recommend lightweight Pearl Izumi gloves.

* WATER FILTER -- Katadyn Hiker. This popular model is easy to use for the solo hiker. 12 ozs.

* FIRST AID -- REI Hiker Kit. The tweezer and antibiotic ointment came in handy
with cactus thorns in the desert. 12.5 ozs.

* NAVIGATION -- High Gear Altitech II. This single device serves as an altimeter, barometer, digital compass, clock and alarm. Very useful.

* RAIN AND WIND SHELL -- REI "One" Jacket. Lightweight at 21 ozs. and cuts wind and rain impressively.

* HIKING CLOTHES --REI Sahara Shirt and Mountain Hardwear Canyon Pants. Both are lightweight, dry fast and have a high SPF.

*WATER CARRIERS -- 2 Nalgene Water Reservoirs (100 fluid ozs and 70 fluid ozs) and two single liter containers. This allowed me to carry up to two gallons of water on long, dry sections of trail.

* CAMERA -- Olympus Stylus 150. This all-weather film camera weighs in at only 8 ozs. My favorite feature is its very powerful zoom, which allows me to magnify distant landscapes.