PCT Day 3

Day 3 - 16miles

Well what a night....I eventually dozed off and woke around midnight to a sky full of stars. I watch them as a few thin clouds pass between me and distant twinkles before I return to the world of sleep.

Then I awake feeling damp. I peer from my nest and feel wet clouds engulfing me. This goes on for the majority of the night. I pull out the outer part of my tent and turn myself into a human burrito attempting the shield myself from the water droplets. I gaze up and see blinking stars in the dark sky between the intermittent clouds as they fly over me. I doze till 5 am and then pack up. My tent is wet, my sleeping bag is wet, I'm wet and as soon as I climb up and out from where I slept I am instantly hit by actual rain and wind, the combination turning into an icy blast. My hands begin to freeze. I pine for the sun and follow the trail feel miserable. I check the water report and see it's 10 miles till my next water and I'm soaked. I'll have little opportunity to dry my things in this weather so I decide to get off the trail. I see a detour leading back to the main road and make my way to the campsites. There should be a water tap and a shower block. Maybe I can have a warm shower, the mere thought of it filling me with joy. I pull out my puffy jacket and hike on into the campsite. A dense fog has filtered to the campsite and the ground squelches beneath my feet which are sodden. I pass by a campsite notice board and see signs reading...

"WARNING DO NOT DRINK THE TAP WATER - ECO-LIE PRESENT"

My heart sinks. Bugger! Does that mean the showers will be closed too? I walk on and pass by a trio of deflated tents. The wind had won and I could see peoples sleeping bags inside. Their tents laying directly over them, water easily making it's way inside. I walk on and reach the shower block. It's locked. I sit in the dry-ish doorway and open my tin of mini sausages congealed in a white paste, I don't finish them. The wind picks up and I huddle against my bag and put my thermals on which are dry for now. I zone out for a bit and an hour passes. The tent trio emerge slowly from their dismal shelters and pile everything into their car and drive away. Eventually I repack my bag and head out into the wet fog. I've decided to walk back to Laguna and go from there. My feet feel like tiny ice blocks as they pound the concrete road. Cars pass by whipping water my way. Least by walking I begin to feel warm again. All I can see is fog up ahead.

I hear a car from behind slow and it pulls in. I catch it up and see the smiling face of a man. His car is full of boxes and gear.

"Do you want a lift? I'm heading to Laguna"

"Yes please!" I say

My natural instinct of getting in a car with a stranger left at the door. I slide in hoisting my bag onto my lap. The car owner, a man called Dave revs up the heating and I begin to get the feeling back in my hands.

"You made a good choice to head back the village" Dave said "It's only due to get worse"

"O Right" I say pleased to be out the cold and moving fast than 2.5 miles an hour. Dave, it turns out to be the owner of the mountain supplies shop and invites me to spend the morning there. He lets me dry off inside, starting up the wood burner and helps me strewn my wet belonging all over his shop, including hanging my sleeping bag. My feet are happy to be dry again. He boils a kettle in the flames and makes me a hot chocolate. We chat about the trail and he mentions about a freak snow storm which happened only 2 week earlier.

Then the door opens and two hikers enter, it's Stefan and Kyler. They got in last night and camped at the campsite, they don't know where Darby and Dan are. Dave checks the weather for us. He says he runs the store intermittently and as soon as he hears of a decent snow fall in the Sierras he closes up shop and goes skiing. Even though the items in his shop were a tad pricey for me he offered invaluable advice to hikers and did pack-shake downs for free! Which lightened the loads of some hikers by 10 lbs!

He recommended that if we were planning on hiking out today that we get to a spot 17 miles from here which offered shelter from the winds. We chilled for a bit in the restaurant, a few other late starting hikers had gathered there. Kyler and I decided to head out for 11:30 am. It was a little annoying to be hiking the same 5 miles again but hey-ho.

It was just as horrible as when I left it a few hours earlier but the rain soon eased, only the wind keeping up a gale. We were suddenly joined a lady with a strong Irish accent. She'd hike the Appalachian trail last year - 2,200 miles up the east coast of America and she'd decided to hike the PCT this year. She was in a mad rush needing to be finished by early September. Which I calculated doing at least 27 miles everyday till then with hardly any zero days. I was at the front of the pack and felt that I had to keep up a decent pace. After storming along for 2 hours I paused for a break, Kyler joined me and the Irish lady jogged along. We crash hard, devouring cereal bars with ease.

"I'm glad you took a break" Kyler said "I was debating it"

We hike on, my leg muscles already beginning to seize up from the little respite. The weather was still dismal and we came across two guys called Rite and Matt. We walked as a group till we reached mile 56 where we think the sheltered area will be. There are large boulders dotted everywhere and few sunken sections off the trail. We head down into the shallow parts and pitch our tents. I use both parts of my tent and climb inside. It's only 6 pm but seems later due to the darken sky. I hope I sleep better to night. I scribble a few notes down into my journal and zip up my sleeping bag. I can hear the tiny patter of rain as it crashes into my tent and slowly drift off into the land of nod.

Day 4 Here

PCT Day 2

Day 2 
25miles

I wake before my alarm. I guess going to sleep at 8 pm, being excited and my own subconscious knowing I had to get miles in before the heat of the day struck had caused me to wake early. I crawl out into the dim dawn-light and walk gingerly testing out my feet. My soles are tender but apart from that they feel fine. I stretch lightly and look around the aurora light. Everyone else is still asleep. Quietly as I can I decamp. I pack my inner tent away, stuff my sleeping bag into the compression sack, set some cous-cous soaking, brush my teeth and I'm away. Yesterdays damp socks hanging off my bag.

It's 6 am and the morning light is beginning to illuminate everything. It was nice to be solo hiking by myself. I felt rather independent and pleased to be venturing on my own. Having made it to America, to the Mexican border and now on the PCT steadily heading north.

The trail is sandy and thorny plants line it on both sides. I hear a rustling sound up ahead and see a small brown deer trotting through the undergrowth, my first one of the trail. It carefully paces through the greenery and heads away. The first 5 miles today were going to be pretty easy. Then I was to meet a gradual 2500 ft climb over 10 miles.

It's pretty quiet as I amble over the land and see a lone hiker in the distance. I make him jump by calling out "Hello". We chat for a bit and he offers me advice about the local drinking water. I haven't had to use my water purification yet - a steripen which take 90 seconds which sterilizes any bacteria in the water I collect from streams. I hike on and take a break to devour some dry fruits, the sweet cranberries my favourite.

I chill on the edge of the path and gaze out across the land. So I'm on day 2, only a 100 or so more days just like this one.

I make the 22 miles and get to Mount Laguna. It's a tiny place with a mountain supply shop, local shop, post office, commercial campsites and restaurant/Inn. I wander wearily into the restaurant were the staff are unloading a van of goods inside. I then find a weary Darby looking tired and red faced. She says she started hiking by 4:45 this morning as she couldn't sleep and that she was considering staying the night here.

"I know it's a bit early on the trail to get a bed" she said "but I'm beat"

I wander into the shop and find my first hiker box. It's brimming with stuff; toilet roll, tins, dry food, books, printed maps, socks, a brand new pair of hiking poles. I grab a tin of mini sausages and sign the hiker book - the various names inside sprawled all over the page. I then buy a banana, milk and an ice cream before zoning out on the wooden porch of the shop. The shop owner comes out and begin to chat with me between puffs of his cigarette. He asks me to repeat every second sentence. He then asks where I'm from.

"Yorkshire, England"

"Ah, that explains it, I remember the Yorkshire ripper being on the news and we had to have subtitles to understand what you were all saying"

I hike on and leave the mini hamlet. The trail leads away and I enter a lovely forest. Massive pine cones surround me - some are as big as my face. The path is sandy and level and I easily hike the flat 3 miles before the ground begins to ascend. It's slow and gently strenuous at the end of my day. The wind then picks up and everywhere is soon being battered by the wind. I look around for a decent spot to camp but there is very little shelter. I head off the trail and climb a mini hill to seek peace on the other side. I find a spot - it's sheltered by bushes and it's not exactly flat but with the amount of padding in my sleeping bag I'll still sleep. I hope the wind dies down as I pitch my tent. Just the inner and unfurl my sleeping bag. I eat a few cereal bars and perch on a large boulder.

I can see a splendid landscape before me which turns out to be the Anza-Borrego Desert State Park. It's covered in endless sand. The mountains have dark patches woven into them where the crevasses darken due to the setting sun. I sit and stare at them for a long time as I subconsciously rub my right knee which hurts a tad. I stretch it off and take it easy. I've hike 45 miles so far. I wish I could get a mobile signal but nothing. It's still light but I crawl into my sleeping bag and fasten down the hatches from the loose strands of wind that past over my secluded spot. Sadly this nights sleep isn't what I was hoping for...

Day 3 Here

PCT Day 1

Day 1 - It begins...

20miles

I wake at 4am and doze till 5am. My sleeping bag is damp with condensation and I notice a camera up on the wall opposite me, luckily it's facing the other way. I'd arrived in Campo the night before and slept in someones back garden. I'd tried to sleep under a large tree on the outskirts but found it swarming with biting ants...

I was weary of the Immigration Police driving round and didn't want to arouse suspicion so ended up tossing my heavy-ish bag over a fence to sleep in someones back garden.

I hop back over the fence for 5:30 just as dawn is breaking - my first on the trail and begin walking to start. It's a cool morning as I walk alone along the edge of the road. A few cars pass me and I hope I don't stand out. A part of me can't believe it, I've made it. All my planning and gear preparation. I'm getting closer to the start line to begin my journey of 2650 miles up the Pacific Crest Trail. I smile slightly nervously but with eager anticipation.

I hear a car behind me. It slows and pulls up next to me. I turn to see a smiley woman and an older man driving. The man turns out to be Bob, a Trail Angel and he's making a final trip to the iconic wooden start. He's been ferrying hikers there all spring. 

"Hop in" he says thumbing behind him.

I pile in the back and meet 2 other hikers. Bob is an ex-Navy Office, no nonsense kind of guy who points out stuff as we go. He also boldly asks why I haven't asked around for Trail Angel help to get me to the start instead of making my own way there...

My fellow hikers are called Sarah, Dan and Stefan who are all as optimistic as I. We cruise along at a steady speed, the road getting bumper as Bob heads onto the dirt road along the fence. The wooden pillars come into view and our beginnings for the summer.

We pause to take our photos beside the post and sign the Trail register behind it. I run my hand along the metal wall of the border between America and Mexico. It's rusted and old and made from recycled metal. I peered through a hole in the middle and see that it looks exactly the same on either side.

An excited tingle peaks in my stomach and I can see the sun trying to join the dawn. A pale cloud lingers over the horizon and the air feels cool.

We set off at 6:15 am and pretty much blitz the first part of the day, the sun doesn't shine till ten so were able to maintain a decent pace. There are so beautiful flowers which somehow manage to bloom and survive in this arid environment. We ascend gently and head up into the rocky, sandy hills. The heat begins and our speedy pace slows. We walk beneath buzzing telegraph towers and watch birds of prey soar above in the blue sky. We pause for a break from the sun. It's 1 pm and were 5 miles from the end of the day. We chill in the shade and sat in silence. Then within the space of 2 minutes a dark snake slithered by followed by a yellow and red one, both as cool as anything.

We press on and meet our first water cache. We don't need any water since the sun had been late to make an appearance but it did bode well for the trail seeing a water cache on the first day. We slowly then begin to ascend our first steep 1000 ft/300 m climb - up Morena Butt. We end up splitting up, then Sarah and I begin leapfrogging each other as we solo hike till the campsite. I can see Lake Morena to the left of me, the blue sparkling waters looking so welcoming but the campsite doesn't go near it so I plow on and reach the top. It’s so hot now and I can feel my skin sweating with the heat. I'm covered from the head to toe but it's still scorching.

I turn off and head towards the campsite. I reach a sign blocking the path saying that the campsite is closed starting from today due to spraying pesticides. Darby catches up and we debate what to do. We venture in regardless and find the place deserted. We park up beside a picnic bench. It is 5$ to camp the night but with no one around so we just camp anyway. I head in and use the showers, they feel lush and I stand there for a while. One day down 100 odd to go. I rinse my clothes and rub at my dusty legs, the water turning brown. My face is a little red but not sun burnt. Dan and Stefan roll in an hour or so later, then a fifth hiker called Kyler walks into camp with a middle-eastern white cotton hat - good thinking. We chill and eat our meals, everyone having stoves. My meal for the evening is cold cous-cous which I better get use to.

We mill around the bench eating, chatting, laying our clothes out like a yard-sale to dry. We nurse our feet, only one blister for me - a good start. We then dissolve into conversations about why where here, what we do, where we come from etc. Even though it's only 8 pm we all begin to succumb to sleep. Amazingly Sarah packs up her bag and hikes on. I pitch the inner net of my tent slightly weary of rattlesnakes and scorpions but as soon as I slip into my 3 season ultra puffy sleeping bag I'm out like a light.

Read Part Two Here!