Section 6 - Agua Dulce to Tehachapi
May 21
18 miles. I was hoping to do more but it was so hard
to leave the luxury of Donna's house that none of us packed
up and left until after 11 a.m. By the time we stopped
in town and had lunch it was noon. Time flies when you're
not on the trail.
I had a good day off in Agua Dulce. After relaxing in
the morning with some ice on my leg, Donna drove several
of us into Santa Clarita to run errands and eat. The malls
and traffic were overwhelming after a month on the trail.
Later we stopped at an all-you-can-eat Chinese restaurant
and did great damage to the owner's profit margin.
Today's hike was a series of 4-5,000 foot ridges, punctuated
by deep, sandy valleys. I crossed 3 ridges today and will
probably cross 3 more of them tomorrow.
I'm camped on a low, sandy saddle tonight and it's cloudy
and damp. I put up the tent for the first time in weeks
just in case. This area is an off-road motorcycle haven
and there's a big tire track running right under my tent.
I hope I don't wake up with a track down my face.
I'm heading north again after the big westward swoop
around the Los Angeles Basin. It feels great to finally
be heading toward the Sierra.
May 22
19 miles. More ridges and valleys, filled with scrub,
a few oaks, and some pines. It rained a little bit last
night. I guess I made the right decision. Shirt, Packrat,
Homebrew, and Jarrod walked by as I was packing up. Four
hours later we were all sacked out on a sandbar by a stream
drying our stuff and eating lunch. Tonight all five of
us are camped in Upper Shake Canyon Campground, just one
final ridge from the Mojave Desert. This is the last water
for 18 miles. We're lucky, the weather is cool and predicted
to stay that way until we get past the desert to the Tehachapis.
May 23
24 miles. I'm in the Antelope Valley, at the western edge
of the Mojave Desert. Several of us are staying at the
home of Jack Fair, a half-crazy old guy who helps PCT
hikers with water and shelter before the desert crossing.
Jack is an ex-animal and guard dog trainer for the Hollywood
set who's living out the end of his life, with his dog
Mindy, in desert obscurity. He talks and smokes incessantly
and I only follow about half of what he says. Nevertheless,
we're all grateful for his hospitality. My feet were killing
me when I got here and he fixed up a bucket of hot water
with Epsom salts. It helped a lot.
I woke at 2 o'clock this morning to a blinding flash
as a thunderstorm exploded over the campground. It was
very close and the lightning and thunder were nearly simultaneous.
I scrambled for my tarp and managed to cover myself just
as the rain commenced. Twenty minutes later, the storm
rumbled off into the desert and the lightning danced off
the distant clouds. I lay awake for a long time listening
to and watching the receding storm.
We ran into the mercurial Meadow Ed again today. For
days we had been seeing his telltale water-filled bourbon
bottles at numerous road crossings. At mile 17, there
he was again with an offer to drive us to a local restaurant
for dinner. Later, after the torturous 7-mile drop into
the Antelope Valley, he drove us to an old roadhouse for
dinner. The place really only serves food on Saturdays
but the bartendress scraped up some leftover barbecued
meats and we ate like medieval kings.
Tomorrow the Mojave.
May 24
23 Miles. I crossed the Antelope Valley today, the
western arm of the Mojave Desert. Other then painfully
monotonous, it wasn't too bad. I caught a big break as
it was cloudy all morning and relatively cool even when
the sun did come out. The land is filled with Joshua trees--grotesque
but strangely beautiful trees that loom like tortured
skeletons over the desert terrain.
Tonight I'm camped at about 5,000 feet in the Tehachapis,
in an oak-filled canyon with a small stream. The crickets
are chirping and a 2/3 moon is shining brightly in the
fading light of dusk.
Much of the Tehachapis are under the control of the mammoth
Tejon Ranch and hence the PCT is relegated to its present
dry and potentially dangerous course. For nearly 20 miles
the trail follows a dirt road along the concrete-covered
Los Angeles Aqueduct as it tracks across the Antelope
Valley at the foot of the Techachapis. All that water
just inches away and no access for the hiker. After 10
miles of trudging along the monotonous road I heard the
rumble of an approaching truck. As it sped by in a cloud
of dust I saw the FedEx logo. I smiled. It would have
made a good commercial.
I'm meeting Cynthia tomorrow at a road crossing near
Tehachapi. I've been looking forward to this moment for
a long time.
May 25
17 Miles. I'm sitting under an shady oak tree, near Tehachapi
Pass, waiting for Cynthia to drive by and take me to Tehachapi.
This was a relatively short day but it felt like eternity.
I crossed through a low point in the Tehachapis at 6,000
feet and made the endless decent through pine, oak, and
Joshua trees. Because of private land restrictions the
trail wound up, down, under, and over all kinds of completely
unnecessary valleys and hills. Ughh. Had the trail made
the obvious decent down the canyon I would have been here
at least two hours ago.
It's very windy and there are several hundred wind turbines
churning on the surrounding hills. I walked right past
a number of them and they made an other worldly sound
as I came down the ridge.
I'm finally to the start of the Southern Sierra. It's
an 8-day walk from here to Mt. Whitney. This is the end
of Southern California--at
least my definition of it. I've enjoyed the mountains,
endured though sometimes hated the deserts, and learned
how to hike about 20 miles/day. My feet are blistered
but my resolve is strong. I'm learning to sleep with my
legs uphill. I'm learning when to eat and when to drink.
I'm slowly understanding the rhythm of the trail. I have
a few more months and a couple of thousand miles to get
better.
This will be my last access to a phone for nearly 3 weeks.
I'll keep writing but the website will probably be dormant
for awhile. Thanks for all the e-mail.
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