Lucy Ondo

CHAPTER SIX     (AGUA DULCE MILE 454.5 TO TEHACHAPI MILE 566.5)

LESSON LEARNED: Road walking sucks.

Day 47, May 17:

Before dawn I slipped out of Hiker Heaven’s side gate. Through the small town of Aqua Dulce, there were no PCT markers. Using my GPS, I was able to find the PCT as it left town about three miles from Hiker Heaven.

After finding the trail, a volunteer from Hiker Heaven rolled by in his pickup loaded with hikers to whom he had given a lift these three miles to the edge of town.

It was a bright morning for hiking and the higher I ascended, the better the view back into the valley. The wild buckwheat and small shrubbery allowed me to see far down the valley. At the top, I overtook Sprinkle who had stopped under a mesquite tree to make a cell call. I waved and hiked on. The mountain ridge had mesquite trees and juniper scattered around rocky outcroppings as the trail passed high through the brown desert.

Looking back down to Aqua Dulce

After the climb of 1,500 feet, the trail began to descend again. The greenery along the paved road below stood in contrast to the barren brown rolling hills.

Unable to find Bear Springs, I  worried about running out of water.  Nearing noontime I cross over the Bouquet Canyon Road.  The road was lined with trees and I passed under a stand of trees.

I heard giggling and voices. Checking out the sounds, I found Detour, LapDog, Sprinkle and a couple of other hikers enjoying a stash of water protected from the sun in the shade of the trees. There was no water for another 15 miles. Luckily, I heard the laughter.

Detour and Sprinkle

I took off my pack, loaded up with water and sat down to eat lunch.

In the heat of the sunny afternoon Detour, LapDog and I leap-frogged our way up the next mountain. It took longer than expected because of the hot weather. LapDog, a tiny woman with a portion of her head shaved in a chic isometric hairstyle, listened to books on tape. She said it kept her from being bored while hiking. Many hikers listened to music.

I preferred listening to surrounding sounds as I required all my senses. It is probably a generational thing.

We paused to rest when we could find a bush large enough to cast shade.

By late afternoon, at the crest of the mountain, we rounded a bend and found amazing trail magic.   The Andersons, trail angels ahead, had set up chairs and decorations under the protection of a cluster of overhanging mesquite trees. The trees circled to form a fresh and shady room.   Inside the chamber, we found a cooler of soda and a cooler of beer with a note saying we were welcome to take one of each. LapDog, Detour and I sat down in the chairs. The “room” had decorative items attached to trees. We drank and looked around with astonishment at our good fortune. Shortly, Sprinkle joined us.

LapDog, Detour, and Sprinkle in the “room.”

As a joke, the Andersons had left a box of weights with a note to take one. LapDog took up the offer and hiked the rest of the trail with her ‘trophy’ extra weight.

Everyone was planning to camp at the only camp on the map for this stretch. The three German hikers left the ‘room’ ahead of me. I held back enjoying the coolness of the shade.

By the time I arrived at mile 471, tents filled all the flat areas. I hiked on. Surely I could find a suitable place to pitch a tent ahead. The descent was along a very steep mountainside into Green Valley.  There were no flat areas to be found. I kept going. As it grew dark, I put on my headlamp. It was past ten at by the time I arrived at the Green Valley fire station at mile 478. It was too late to try to hitch to the Andersons.

The map indicated there should be camping available at a picnic site. But I had trouble finding the picnic area in the dark. I walked around to look for a sign. I returned to the trail thinking I had missed signage. Nothing. I walked down the road past a storage area for road equipment. Nothing.

After hiking almost 24 miles, I had difficulty thinking sensibly. I walked up and down along the highway looking around. I found the picnic area only after hearing and following the sounds of voices.

Two young men were sitting at the picnic table making dinner.

“May I join you?” I asked, startling them both. I sat down, removed my running shoes and put on flip-flops. We each ate our dinners at the table. While we were eating, a car pulled up and asked if we wanted a ride to Anderson’s two mile SW down the road.

The Anderson’s are trail angels who welcome hikers to stay in their large yard. It is known to be a fun party place. Having already decided to camp at this spot, we reluctantly declined the driver’s generous offer.

The immediate area surrounding the picnic table was lawn densely covered in pine needles and next to the busy highway. I felt safer in the company of the two men.

As I was erecting my tent, I pushed my foot down on a titanium tent stake. The stake pierced my flip-flop and went through my foot between my big toe and the next toe. I was in agony. I jumped around to keep from crying out in pain. I did not want to bring attention to my idiocy in front of these fellow hikers.

Luckily, I was current on my tetanus shot. I swabbed the puncture wound with alcohol and poured what little I had left of hydrogen peroxide over my foot.

The PCT trail ahead was closed because of a Powerhouse forest fire in 2013.   Tomorrow would be a 20-mile road walk around the trail closure. Road walking is stressful on feet. I was concerned about tomorrow and worried my foot could not take the pounding of the pavement.

The nearby highway was busy, and I fell asleep listening to the speeding cars pass as headlights flashed yellow on my tent.   I tried not to think of the throbbing of my foot and what this might mean for my hike.  It took some time to fall asleep.

Day 48:

In the cold, windy, overcast morning, the three of us started off together just at dawn. I was busy trying to keep warm from the sharp wind, and it helped keep my thoughts from the throbbing foot. Following our maps and the instructions for the bypass, we made it to Lake Hughes in the early part of the morning.

The two young men continued walking. I was cold and looked for a place to go inside to warm up.

I walked over to the Historic Rock Inn, making my way through the line of parked Harleys into the rock building. The restaurant was dark despite the large windows.

“May I put my pack here?” I asked the waitress. “And recharge my phone?”

The waitress pleasantly told me I could. Unshouldering my pack, I dropped it onto the stage and found an outlet to recharge my phone.

I seated myself at a table in the bar next to the stage and ordered breakfast. The inn is a favorite motorcycle hangout.  Since it was Sunday, it was crowded with riders.

As I was finishing my large breakfast of eggs, bacon, and hashbrowns, Mandie and Josh arrived. I ordered a bloody mary and more coffee and talked with them as they ate breakfast.

The temperature outside warmed during breakfast. Mandie, Josh and I spent the day walking together on the road and made it to within 5 miles of Hikertown by about four in the afternoon.

Road walking for over 20 miles had torn my feet up. New blisters now covered the bottom of my feet. Between the puncture wound and the blisters, I was hobbling by the time we stopped.

We located a flat area away and out of sight from the busy highway and pitched our tents. I felt fortunate not to be camping alone.

Laughter and giggling could be heard coming from Mandy and Josh’s tent. In my loneliness, I felt how lucky they were to have each other.

The afternoon sun warmed my tent as I treated the blisters on my feet and cleaned the puncture wound. Laying back on my sleeping bag, I awaited darkness and sleep and rest.

Day 49:

With only 5 miles to go, I arrived at Hikertown at mile 517.6 first thing in the morning. Lapdog and Detour were already there. Josh and Mandie came in shortly after me.

Hikertown

Prop buildings from old Hollywood westerns lined the street entry to Hikertown. Arriving was surreal. Passing stage fronts of a post office, store, and a hotel before I noticed a large open garage converted into a hiker’s lounge. Someone informed me I must go back to pick up my resupply package in the prop post office.

I placed five dollars in the post office jar and started back to the garage with my resupply package when I ran into a tall woman with a backpack. I motioned back toward the Post Office and helpfully suggested she could find her resupply box inside.

“I already have it.” She snapped in a forceful voice. All righty then, I thought and turned, walking back to the garage.

Following behind, the woman entered the garage demanding, “I need fuel for my stove.” She looked around, expecting someone to pony-up fuel.

Horrified, I hurried off to the shower. Gratefully, this was my only encounter with this hiker.

Off the back of the garage housed a washer and dryer. Past the kitchen, with signage saying it was not for the use of hikers, was the bathroom. The toilet was not working, but the shower was in high demand. The shower was disgustingly dirty with large dead cockroaches on the shower floor. As good as it felt to get clean, I was happy to have flip-flops to wear while showering.

There was a note posted on the garage area refrigerator indicating a store/café nearby willing to fetch hikers wishing to eat. I asked around and arranged for the store owner to come pick up Mandie, Josh, Detour and me. LapDog stayed back.

Mandy, Josh and Detour waiting for cheeseburgers

Detour, me, Mandy

We all order cheeseburgers.   The cafe was accommodating enough to make mine lettuce wrapped. Detour ordered a triple cheeseburger. I wish I had gotten a photo of that wonderfully huge stack of juicy meat and cheese. I dreamed about it for many weeks afterward. And the memory of Detour eating with sheer joy still makes me smile.

The impromptu lunch and the time required to wash my clothes made me late back on the trail. I had no plans to stay the night at Hikertown.

The next section was along a variety of aqueducts through the flat colorless desert. First I passed along an open aqueduct and then crossed over. Next, the trail followed several miles along and on a round metal aqueduct, half buried in the sand.

It was a hot afternoon. At some point, I found shade under a Joshua tree as LapDog and Detour hiked up and sat down.

“When I was reading about the PCT in Germany I mistakenly assumed Joshua trees were actual trees,” LapDog mentioned with an ironic smile.

We looked at the few Joshua trees nearby, which are a type of Yucca plant, and burst out laughing.

This is a Joshua tree.  This photo was taken by me in Joshua Tree National Park.  The Joshua Trees along the trail were not this tall and grand.

In the afternoon the trail followed on top of an underground concrete aqueduct, sometimes the trail was actually on top of the aqueduct and sometimes the trail was a sandy dirt road next to the concrete.

Later the trail veered off the Aqueduct and turned onto a sandy dirt road. Near dusk, a dark green pickup truck overtook me on the dirt road. The driver waved and smiled, when he had driven a little further down the road, he turned his vehicle around.   As the truck pulled alongside, the man rolled down his window and said something in Spanish with a leering smile.

I shook my head and indicated I did not understand and quickly continued walking down the dusty road. He turned his truck around again and pulled the truck slowly past. I watched the truck disappear down the road.

A quarter of an hour later, I saw the same truck coming back at some distance. Alone, in the middle of the desert, this could portend trouble.  I quickly left the road and ran through the scrub brush to get as far off the road as possible. Crouched behind a bush, I watched the truck pass hugging myself to calm my shaking. I waited as still as possible. My heart pounding with fear.

Minutes past. I tried to steady my breathing before started out again.  For safety I walked through the brush instead of on the road following in the same direction and yet keeping a safe distance. I kept a watchful eye for the truck. Luckily it was getting dark and the darkness would allow me to stay out of sight.

In the waning light, picking my way through the brush, I heard a muffled sound. I had not seen another hiker for hours, not since the LapDog and Detour passed me. I followed the voices.  It took me a few minutes looking around to come upon the campsite of Crusher and two other hikers.   It was a welcome sight. I asked Crusher if I could camp nearby. It was somewhere near mile 530.   It was with relief to find a group to camp with and a bonus to be hidden a distance off the dirt road.

Day 50:

Early in the morning I came upon a water tank and stopped to fill up. LapDob and Detour joined me. They had camped about a mile down the trail from where I had camped with Crusher. I had unknowingly passed their campsite in the early hours.

A strong relentless wind blew as the trail crossed through a wind farm. Wind farms are like walking through a runway of jets taking off. The whoosh, whoosh of the blades is deafening.

As pathway started ascending into the bare mountain ridges, it was quiet again. I had left behind the farm but not the wind. Gaining altitude the wind grew colder. I missed being able to prepare something hot to eat and drink with my JetBoil.

When I finally crossed over a high ridge and headed into a valley with a creek at mile 542, I was exhausted.   I stopped to filter water. A group of hikers were resting by the creek but soon hiked on. Crusher came in and left saying he was camping right before the road to Tehachapi.

As I sat filtering water, LapDog and Detour arrived. We enjoyed the break from the wind in the protection of a few trees and the steep ridge above. I decided to find a flat spot along the creek to spend the night as there was no water for the next 16 miles. They both thought it was a good idea and decided to do the same. It was two o’clock in the afternoon.

I was soon sound asleep in my tent. By nightfall, the wind changed direction and started blowing up through the creek valley. The wind battered my tent. The fly flapped noisily during the night.  I was too tired to be much bothered by the sound of the wind.

Day 51:

In the morning I was surprised to find twenty-five tents pitched up and down the creek around my tent. I had heard nothing. I had slept from the afternoon through the night with only the sound of the wind ripping and pulling at my tent.

Eager to make it to the road to hitch a ride to Tehachapi, I spent the morning hiking as quickly as possible. The trail weaved along the sides of mountains, up and down and around. I kept up my quick pace and did not see any other hikers all morning.

In the mid afternoon as I began the descent into Oak Creek Canyon, I came upon Luna taking videos of hikers as they passed for posting on YouTube.  It is on YouTube under ‘We have walked 500 miles’ RK-PCT accompanied with the song by The Proclaimers “I’m gonna be (500 Miles)”.

About a mile or two from the road, I noticed Pakabear coming down behind me and was amazed at how easily he made his way down the hill. Pakabear was loping along with effortless style. I envied his youth and vigor. My foot ached from being speared by the tent stake. I felt every step.

Most male hikers prefer to pair up with a female hiker to hitch rides because it is easier to get a ride. The female hiker is a “ride bride” in trail jargon.

“Can I be your ride grandmother?” I humorously asked Pakabear when he caught up with me.

When we arrived at the road to Tehachapi, Coppertone was there with trail magic, offering root beer floats.   Both Pakabear and I made time to enjoy a cold root beer float before we hitched into Tehachapi.

After checking into a hotel in Tehachapi, I called around to find a rental car to drive home to give my injured foot a few days rest. It made more sense to take a few days off at home instead of sitting in the hotel room with nothing to do.

Because it was Memorial weekend, there were no rental cars available. I called Jim and asked him to drive up in the morning a fetch me.

Day 52:

On Thursday morning, May 22^nd, I returned home to rest and let my foot recuperate.   By my calculations, one more foot problem would end my hike. Luckily, I had started early at the beginning of the trail planning to allow for taking a two-week break at Kennedy Meadows before starting into the High Sierras. I had already used many of those planned zero days but was still ahead of my schedule having hiked more miles per day.