The winds did blow through the night, but unlike San Gorgonio, the tent held firm. I awoke just before dawn and enjoyed the colors over Palm Springs as I ate my oatmeal and had a cup of coffee. I gathered more water, being more careful not to kick up the silt. My filter was partially clogged, so it took some time to ensure I had enough water to reach Tahquiz Creek, the next water source.
Once packed up, I began the climb back to the junction. Sara had messaged me that she had just hit the trail herself. I said hello to some thru-hikers finishing packing up from their night up top. Apache Peak was right next to the trail, so I dropped my pack and followed the cairns to the summit. I found a sign and the register, but nothing to sign in. The views were something, but I had a lot of miles to cover, and this section was almost all in the sun.
Since my filter was working so slowly, I hung the CNOC bag from my pack, and my mini M!GO bottle was attached. Unfortunately, a brushy section knocked the bottle free. I found it with most of the water still inside, thankfully. It was worth a shot. I had my sun umbrella with me, but hadn’t attached the straps to fix it to my pack, and I was not about to just hold it through this section of the trail.
As I neared Spitler Peak, I opted to skip it as I just did not have the legs for the steep climb to the summit. If you have ever watched some videos of hikers doing this section in the winter, you realize how dangerous this portion of the trail is. However, the views to my east were breathtaking.
I came to a small saddle, spied two packs just off the trail, and then I saw a man coming down from the nearby slope. I shouted “hi,” and he returned the greeting by crossing his arms and giving me an almost death-like stare. My “spidey-sense” went off the charts—there was something very wrong with this dude. I gave him a thumbs up and kicked it up a notch to hike away from him. I glanced back to see if he might be following me, but thankfully, he did not seem to be. Soon, I caught up with Sara. Turns out she, too, had an odd encounter with him, as did some other hikers. We hiked together for a bit, filling each other in about our evening and the day so far. Sara still hadn’t found her climbing legs yet, so she suggested I just find my groove and meet at the creek. Since I had skipped Spitler, I knew I was going to be skipping Red Tahquitz. I crested the saddle and knew the rest of the hike was all downhill with some shade.
I leapfrogged another hiker, who asked me about how my side quests were going. Hum, I might have just gotten a trail name…”Side Quest”. About 8 hikers were relaxing by the creek when I arrived. I filled my CNOC and slowly filtered my water while eating my lunch. About 30 minutes later, Sara rolled in. We all collectively chatted about the odd hiker, and I said that since I was headed down to Idyllwild, I would let the rangers know.
After a nice break under the shade of the pines, Sara and I headed off along the blue blaze toward Saddle Junction. Once there, a volunteer ranger was checking permits. Poor Sara didn’t have a tag yet, so she had to dig her paper one out of the middle of her pack. I had an updated email for mine, so I was good to go. Two other hikers were relaxing before they made their way down to town. Since Sara had just been in town, she was going to keep pushing north. We said goodbye for now, and I, along with the other two hikers, headed down the Devil’s Slide trail. Hopefully, my good friends Rick and Andrea had shuttled my car up to Humber Park. Partway down, a text came through that they had indeed parked the car for me. Not sure who was happier—me, not having to wait for my car, or the two ladies, who now had a ride into town.
We met a few folks heading up the trail on a day hike and one thru-hiker heading back. Soon, the parking lot came into view, and this epic adventure had come to a close. I dropped the ladies off at the post office and let Rick and Andrea know I had picked up my car. They agreed to meet for an early dinner at the Idyllwild Brewpub, and I filed them in on my trip. They were tackling San Jacinto from Devil’s Slide the next day, so an early dinner worked well for them, as they had a long day ahead.
The final stats for the two days were:
Day 1
19.0 miles
4,667 feet
13:03
Day 2
13.2 miles
2,343 feet
8:57
I am an avid peak bagger, sometimes backpacker, and former sea kayaker living in San Diego. I am the co-author of Urban Trails: San Diego, available now!
I awoke just before the alarm went off and quickly got ready. I was driving up to Idyllwild and picking up Sara to shuttle her back down to the Highway 74 trailhead before joining her once again on the Pacific Crest Trail. However, this time I would not just be day hiking; I would be backpacking this section of the trail all the way back to Idyllwild. I grabbed breakfast and coffee for Sara and me at the 24-hour McDonald’s in Temecula, then continued up the mountain to pick her up at the rental cabin she was sharing with some other thru-hikers. I got there right around 6 am, and Sara was soon in the passenger seat, ready to hit the trail once again. We pulled into the trailhead parking lot and quickly gathered our gear. We had a long, hard day of hiking ahead of us, and we wanted to get moving. Off to our north, we could see San Jacinto beckoning. We passed a stone monument with a map of the PCT and a memorial for Andy Elam, who, unfortunately, was murdered nearby back in 1989.
The trail started off mellow for a bit before the long climb began. We passed someone who had found a nice spot for the night. Sara continued filling me in on the events since I last saw her up on Mt. Laguna. Before too long, we came to the junction that one would take to summit Ken Point. While I was hoping to climb several side peaks on this trip, this summit was a bit too far for my liking. We enjoyed the views, mostly to the west. I tried to spot the peaks that I had climbed the week before. After a couple more miles, I came to the use trail that would take me to the summit of Lion Peak. This climb would be an out-and-back, so I dropped my pack off to the side of the trail and followed the cairns to the summit. I found the register and a nice wooden sign. I snapped a few photos, signed the register, and hustled back down. We still had a lot of miles to cover. Sara was waiting for me under the shade of a nearby tree.
About 1/2 mile later, we reached the junction with the use trail to Pine Mountain. I debated on this one, as the trip reports indicated it was a bit brushy and a bit further off-trail. In the end, I opted to skip it. The day was getting warmer, and I was trying to be mindful of my water and energy. Just to the north, Pyramid Peak was calling my name. Unlike the climb to Lion Peak, this time I kept my pack on, as the route made more sense to climb it as a point-to-point. The use trail to the summit was pretty well marked. Once at its rocky summit, I had some fantastic views. Found the benchmark, two reference marks, and the register. I took a short break and enjoyed a snack before heading down the north ridge, again following a good use trail.
Sara had passed me while I was on the summit, but we planned to rendezvous at the junction for Cedar Springs. I found her enjoying her lunch in the shade with some other thru-hikers. One had just returned from the mile hike down to the spring to refill their water, and others were getting ready to make the same trek. Our original plan was to hike down and camp there for our first day, but it was just a bit after 1 pm, and we both agreed it was too early to call it a day. We could certainly top off our water, but the thought of those 2 miles was not appealing. Instead, we opted to make the short hike to Eagle Spring and fill up there. Using the references in the comments on FarOut, we found the lone pine tree and the use trail that led to a trickling spring and a water trough. Sara used the spring, while I carefully filled my CNOC from the trough, trying to keep the algae away. Once we had filled our bottles, we climbed back up to the PCT and continued on.
Since we had changed our initial plans, I was also reviewing my peak bagging side quests. The next peak on my agenda was Palm View Peak. On paper, this looked to be the easiest of all the ones I hoped to climb. Very little elevation gain and barely off-trail. I dropped my pack and set off. Sara kept pushing northward, knowing that I would catch her on the big climb that lay ahead of us past Fobes Saddle. The hike over to Palm View Peak started nicely, with some nice shade from the trees, until I hit a wall of brush. I tried to match my position to the tracks I had saved, but nothing really indicated a route through them. Relying on bushwhacking talents, I picked my way through until I spied a small mound of rocks indicating the summit. The register was soaks, and the views were less than stellar. I snapped a few photos and pushed my way back out.
The trail descended to Fobes Saddle, and the sun was slowly sinking behind Thomas Mountain. Spitler Peak loomed to my north. This was on my list, but there was no time to climb its steep slope and still make camp at Apache Springs. If I were solo and had climbed Ken Point and Pine Mountain, I probably would have made Cedar Springs later in the afternoon, so stopping there would have made sense. I knew there was a closer trailhead for this peak, so returning would not require re-hiking much of the PCT. I was now a good distance ahead of Sara, so we were coordinating digitally. I had some water left, so I did consider stopping short of Apache Springs for the night, then dropping down to it in the morning to fill up for the day. FarOut indicated a campsite before the junction with Apache Springs, but when I reached it, it seemed pretty full and exposed. So, I pushed on toward Apache Springs. At the junction, some folks had set up camp. I had been leapfrogging with some, so I asked them to let Sara know that I was headed down to the spring.
Apache Spring sits about 0.6 miles off the PCT and has a 520-foot elevation loss. As I started down, I hoped there was a spot for my tent, since I was not keen on hiking back up to the junction. Partway down, I passed one tent just off to the side of the trail. I thought to myself, great, if someone is camping here, are there even any spots near the spring? But as luck would have it, there was no one camped there! I found a nicely sheltered spot, since I knew it was going to be breezy overnight (25-mph gusts were predicted). After I got my tent set up and secured, I walked the few minutes to the spring itself. It was getting dark, but I thought I had enough light, so I left my headlamp behind. I gathered some water and hauled it back to the campsite. Once there, I saw how slity it was. When I scooped up the water, I disturbed the silt. I let it settle some before dumping out a portion and starting to filter it. I was pretty beat and decided not to spend the time or water on cooking dinner. Instead, I ate my Walking Tamale, a beef stick, and my mini-apple pie for dinner, then turned in for the night under the glow of the lights from Palm Springs. I had gotten a message from Sara that she had reached the junction and was camping up there. With that, I turned off my headlamp and drifted off to a well-earned sleep. I covered 19.2 miles in 13:03 total time and an elevation gain of 5234 feet.
I am an avid peak bagger, sometimes backpacker, and former sea kayaker living in San Diego. I am the co-author of Urban Trails: San Diego, available now!
They say the third time is the charm, right? I wanted one last hard hike before Ted and I attempt to summit Mt. Whitney. I debated between hiking up Ontario and Bighorn or doing San Gorgonio as an overnight trip. With the water sources on San Gorgonio slowly drying up, I figured I should take that option. I pulled into the familiar parking lot and quickly gathered my gear. It was a bit warm, but there was enough of a breeze to offset it. I drank my liter of water and crossed over the road. I opted to only carry 1/2 liter of water and another 1/2 liter of electrolytes. My plan was to possibly filter at the crossing of the South Fork of the Santa Ana River if needed, and really load up on water at Lodgepole Spring. Instead of camping at Dry Lake, I decided to aim for camping further along at the Trail Flats campsite. The first part of the hike went quickly, and I, of course, made a stop at Poopout Hill for a photo. Soon, I reached the junction with Dry Lake Trail and Dollar Lake Trail. I crossed over the side streams and continued to the river. When Ted and I were here last August, it was flowing enough to make us cross cautiously. This time, I could simply rock hop across the water. I still had plenty of water and was feeling good for the next section. The next 1.6 miles would climb about 850 feet, and be a good workout. One difference from my last time here is that I weigh about 25 pounds less! I cruised through this section, and soon Dry Lake came into view. It certainly was smaller than last time. I took the trail along the north side over the spur trail to Lodgepole Spring. The spring was still flowing, but I had to go a bit further to find a good spot to fill up and filter. The plan was to fill both bottles, as well as my 3L CNOC bag, and haul all that up to Trail Flats. My light backpack just got heavier.
I continued looping around the edge of the lake until I rejoined the main trail and started the climb to camp. From here on out, the trail would be new to me. Over the next mile, I would climb over 500 feet. While the pack was about 10 lbs heavier, I felt good. I spotted the campsite sign attached high on a tree, and began to survey my options. I quickly found a nice flat spot and began setting up camp. I opted to bring my REI QuarterDome SL1 this time, since there would be no moon in the night sky, and I could lie in the tent and stare at the stars above.
I made dinner, watching the sun slowly dip behind the ridge. I hung my Adotec food bag and crawled under my quilt. The stars slowly began showing themselves as I continued to listen to The Two Towers. When it was dark enough, I was going to do some astrophotography, but my iPhone had offloaded AstroShader, so I could only use the built-in camera. Since I was hoping to reach the summit for sunrise, I set an alarm for 3 am. Some night hiking will also be good practice for Whitney.
The alarm went off, and I broke camp. I had debated leaving most of the gear here and hiking lighter to the summit. But in the end, I just packed up everything and set off. It was cold, and I was wearing my sun hoodie, my camp shirt, and my puffy, but quickly shed the puffy. The trail was easy to follow under the light of my headlamp. I ate a bar at Mine Shaft Saddle and pushed on under the starry skies.
The trail climbed at a nice grade along the east side of the mountain. The faint glow of the coming sunrise started to show off to the east. I passed the C-47 crash site without seeing it. It started to get colder as I kept gaining elevation, and I finally stopped and put the puffy back on. The lights of Palm Springs also came into view as I worked my way up a series of switchbacks, before the trail turned westward. The sun’s rays illuminated San Jacinto’s summit to my south, letting me know I had mistimed my attempt. Oh well, the night hiking was still good practice. The trail turned northward and reached the junction with the Vivian Creek Trail, just 0.4 miles from the summit. I remember how hard it was this last time I was here. Now I felt pretty good, with just a small headache.
I reached the summit and spotted a tent set up in one of the wind shelters. I took some photos with the summit signs before heading over to the tent. The occupant had come out and he gave me a wave. He had arrived at the summit around 9 last night via Vivian Creek and said it was cold and windy overnight. I fired up my stove, made a cup of coffee, and ate my oatmeal. We chatted for a bit while we each ate our breakfasts. The small headache faded away, and I assume it was either the need for some caffeine or a bit more fluids.
As much as I enjoyed our conversation, I knew I had quite a few miles left to hike to get back to the car. I debated whether I should return the same way I ascended, or loop around and come back via Dollar Lake. I opted to try the Dollar Lake route, as it was a bit shorter. I bid him farewell and set off back down the trail. I paused at the junction back to Dry Lake and mulled it over once again, but decided to stick to the plan. The trail split again, the left fork heading down to Vivian Creek, and the right fork heading toward Dollar Lake. I guess there are enough people not paying attention that a warning sign had to be added to keep people on the right track.
Another reason that I opted to take this route was that the trail passes by several Hundred Peak Section peaks, and I was considering adding them to the adventure. I didn’t do any advanced planning, so I only had whatever the topo maps showed me and what my eyes actually revealed about each summit. The sun had started to warm things up, and I stashed my puffy back into my pack. I was also right near Jepson Peak. I looked over the map, and it looked like it was a 0.2 mile jaunt off-trail to the summit, with almost 300 feet of gain. The legs were feeling good, so I went for it. I zig-zagged up the side of the peak until I reached its summit. There was no marker here, and I skipped signing the register. I did have a nice view of San Gorgonio off to my east as a reward. I then followed the ridgeline over to a small bump to the north, before working my way back down to the trail. Once back on the trail, I cruised along. Santiago and Modejska Peaks could be seen off to the southwest, rising above the marine layer. As I neared Dollar Lake Saddle, I decided that climbing Charleston and Little Charleston Peaks would have to wait. If I had brought an extra liter of water, I might have considered it. The rest of the hike would now be sunny and warm, so I wanted to conserve my fluids, as I still had almost 6 miles to go.
The trail did become both more exposed to the sun and rockier in nature as it worked its way downward. I put on my headphones and resumed my audiobook. I was at the part of the story when Merry and Pippin meet the Ents. Seemed perfect timing as I walked through the wilderness. After 2.3 miles, I again reached the junction to Dry Lake. I took a break under the shade of some lovely trees. I still had enough fluids to get me back to the car, so I did not wander over to the nearby creek to filter some additional water. The last 3.6 miles went quickly, passing backpackers making their way up to their campsites, and a day hiker or two. Soon, I passed the cabins at Horse Meadows and knew my adventure was drawing to a close. I am extremely happy to have climbed San Gorgonio again and to have done it as an overnight adventure. The entire hike was 22.41 miles, with 5,116 feet of gain. My hiking time was 3:59 from the trailhead to camp, 2:38 from camp to summit, and finally 4:45 from summit back to the car. Now to rest up and start packing for Mt. Whitney!
I am an avid peak bagger, sometimes backpacker, and former sea kayaker living in San Diego. I am the co-author of Urban Trails: San Diego, available now!
The adventure began with kissing my wife goodbye, patting our dog, and setting off toward Lee Vining. I had said goodbye to my son, who recently moved home to become the Youth Director at our synagogue, the night before. The first stop was at a Starbucks, as a large coffee was needed for the long drive. I was meeting Rick to borrow a small tripod, as both of the ones I ordered to replace the one I lost when hiking Sawmill were delayed in arriving. With Rick’s tripod now in hand, I began the drive north. Traffic was not too bad, and the podcasts passed the time.
My first stop was the Eastern Sierra Visitor Center in Lone Pine. I had a question about our upcoming permit to climb Mt. Whitney, and wanted to swap out a plastic Junior Ranger badge for a wooden one. Unfortunately, I arrived during their lunch break, and they were closed. I did, however, see some runners racing in the Badwater 135, and support cars were parked throughout the town.
My next stop was Manzanar National Historic Site, again to obtain a Junior Ranger badge. Sadly, due to staffing issues, the Visitor Center is now closed from Tuesday through Thursday. Ted and I will have to return when we come back for our Whitney attempt. I already knew that the Copper Top BBQ was closed, and found Mountain Rambler Brewery as a replacement for my lunch stop. After a fine burger and a tasty flight, I made a quick stop for gas and continued northward. As I neared Mono Lake, I saw a sign saying there would be a Ranger-led walk at 6 pm. I certainly had time for this, but after checking into the motel and unloading my gear, I drove over to the Mono Basin Scenic Area Visitor Center to confirm that the walk was still scheduled. The kind volunteer said it was. I also inquired about any Junior Ranger badges, and they indeed had one for the Inyo National Forest! I made the 15-minute drive back to the south shore of Mono Lake and waited on a bench.
Our walk was led by a staffer from the Mono Lake Committee, Ana. She had recently started working there and was full of enthusiasm about the lake. About 15 of us walked the Loop Trail, stopping at various points to learn about a wide range of topics. I left toward the end, as I was getting hungry and wanted a good night’s sleep.
Dinner was the “world-famous” fish tacos at the Whoa Nellie Deli. The mango salsa one was outstanding, and the ginger coleslaw was good as well. I watched the sun set on the lake and headed back to the motel. Earlier in the day, I made the 30-minute drive into Yosemite National Park to pick up my Wilderness Permit, as well as a Junior Ranger booklet. I figured I could work on it that evening in the motel, which I did. With that task complete, it was time to turn in for the night. Tomorrow would begin 6 days of backpacking through Yosemite’s backcountry.
Day 1: Tuolumne Meadows to Glen Aulin
After a fairly good night’s rest in the motel, I took my last shower for almost a week. I walked down the highway to Nicely’s for a good breakfast to start off this adventure. Given that the Tuolumne Meadows Visitor Center did not open until 9 am, I was not in a rush. I swung by the Whoa Nellie Deli again to grab a ready-made sandwich for my lunch. The drive back to the park was uneventful, except for the dead deer on the side of the highway. I pulled into the parking lot for the Tuolumne Meadows Visitor Center and stored my backpack in a nearby bear locker. I went in and presented my completed Junior Ranger booklet. After a little chat with the Ranger, I was sworn in as a Junior Ranger for Yosemite. On her suggestion, I opted to park back at the Wilderness Permit Station. I checked back in with the rangers there in case something had changed. They reported all was good, just a few mosquitoes at spots. With that, it was time to hit the trail. I stepped onto the PCT and followed it westward. The trail paralleled Tioga Road for a bit before crossing it and following the road to the Glen Aulin Trailhead. Along the way, I was stopped by a woman assembling her backpacking gear, and she had a question about the parking for Glen Aulin. I told her where I had parked, but I was planning on doing the whole loop. She thanked me, and we parted ways.
The first point of interest was Soda Springs. This is a naturally carbonated spring that sits on the edge of the meadow. You can take a taste, which I did. It was slightly fizzy, with a bit of a metallic tinge.
The trail was mostly downhill for the first day, and with 6 days of food on my back, I was thankful. I took a short break and watched the waters of the Tuolumne River flow past. There I met a lady day-hiking to Glen Aulin, and we hiked down the trail together. We crossed the first bridge over the Tuolumne and saw some PCT hikers grabbing a few photos. We continued on down the trail, chatting about the state of our parks and public lands.
About 5 miles in, we met a Ranger on patrol. We chatted a bit, and I presented my permit. She commented on how small my pack seemed. I replied that I was leveraging the bear lockers at each site, so I left my heavy bear can in the car and was storing my food in my new Adotec bag. She said it was perfectly fine, given that each site does have lockers. If I were adventuring elsewhere, then an approved bear can would be needed.
Soon, the sounds of a waterfall began to fill the air, and this meant we were drawing close to Glen Aulin. The bridge that crossed the Tuolumne River into Glen Aulin had been destroyed due to high snow a few years back, but thankfully had been rebuilt. Once across, we took a second bridge over Conness Creek into camp. She found a nice spot to have her lunch, and I did a quick tour of the backpacking site. The High Sierra Camps are built in two parts: the actual camp and its associated infrastructure, and a section for traditional backpackers. The camps were not open this year, so the various tents and other structures were not assembled. Continuing on to the backpacking area, I skipped the first collection of sites, as several spots were already taken, and continued on. I found a set of sites up on a granite ridge, all of which were unclaimed. I left my poles on a site that looked perfect, and returned down to also have my lunch with my hiking companion. When done, she headed back up the trail. I then tossed my food into the bear locker before making the short climb to my campsite. I decided to change which spot I picked upon closer inspection of the slope. Soon, I had my tent set up and was good for the evening. I wandered down to the river’s edge to fill my CNOC water bag, so I could filter some water later.
I found a nice shady spot and took a short nap. Once refreshed, I wandered around camp, including taking advantage of the composting toilet. I chatted with some of the other campers: a few PCTers, an Outward Bound group, and eventually the woman I met at the beginning of the hike. I sauntered down the trail that parallels the Tuolumne to explore some of the falls downstream for a bit. There I saw my first Marmot, but didn’t have time to snap a photo. I returned to camp to have dinner. I found a spot far enough away from my tent to make and eat my pasta. After cleaning up and storing the rest of the scented items, I turned in. I was tired from the day’s hike, and lying in my tent listening to my audiobook for a bit was just what I needed. A full moon would be rising soon, so that would put a damper on any stargazing or astrophotography. I turned my phone off to save some battery and drifted off to sleep. I forgot to mention, I did check in with Anita and let her know that I was safely at camp.
DAY 2: Glen Aulin to May Lake
Sleep was about what I expected. I was actually a tad too warm, but this is one of the lower elevation sites, so I might still want my better quilt at the other camps. I awoke at first light, but fell back asleep for another 30 minutes. I packed up my gear, made a pit stop, then gathered my food and scented items from the locker. I went down to the river’s edge and had my breakfast of oatmeal and a cup of coffee. I properly re-packed my backpack and set off. Today’s journey would be hiking about 8 miles up to May Lake. According to one guide I read, I would be gaining about 1,400 feet of elevation. While this would almost be trivial back home, I had a fairly full backpack and was starting at 7,880 feet.
I crossed back over the Tuolumne River, the morning light shining through the mists from the waterfall, and made the steep climb to the junction with the trail to May Lake. This trail heads mostly southward, first toward McGee Lake. The mosquitoes were out in force, so the bug net quickly came out. The trail initially worked its way upward through the forest. The views were stunning, and occasionally I would dart off the trail to explore a possible viewpoint. About 3 miles in, I took a break and, since I had a clear view of the sky, sent a check-in message back home. I shouldered my pack again and set off. There was very little breeze, so it was a tad warm.
Just after one steeper section, I took another break under the shade and to soak in the views. I then began a series of switchbacks, and after about 10 minutes, I went to grab the tripod, and it was missing! It must have fallen off my pack where I took my break, so I turned and hiked back. At the rest stop, it was nowhere to be found. Ugh! I gave up looking there and started back up the trail, and just after the first switchback, I spotted it on the trail. I had walked right over it on the way down. Crisis averted. I tightened the strap I had been using to hold it on my pack and kept climbing. This section was very sun-exposed, so I was feeling the sun’s rays upon me. I took another break and adjusted my socks and shoes. Before leaving, I again checked that the tripod was still secure. Soon, I crested a small saddle and began the short and gentle descent to May Lake. Its waters were a welcoming sight. I had forgotten to “camel up” before leaving Glen Aulin, so I drank more than I planned for during my ascent. I passed through the closed camp’s foundations and buildings before finding a spot for the night. It was only about noon, so I had a lot of time to kill.
I again stashed my food in a locker, filtered some water, and, under the shade of the trees, ate my lunch. I drank some electrolytes to replace those that I sweated away. I then found another shady spot and took a well-earned nap. My tracker recorded the climb as over 1,930 feet of gain. Quite a difference from what I had read earlier. That would explain the tightness in my calf. I certainly was hiking faster than I would have had I done a better job in understanding this section of the trip. I explored the area some more, stretching the calf, trying to get some relief. I went back down the water’s edge and soaked my feet in the cool waters. I opted for a second nap, because why not? I started considering my options. The next day’s hike was listed as “very strenuous” with about 1,600 feet of descent over 3 miles, followed by an ascent of almost the same amount but in just over a mile. The following day was a long descent, and then the day after that was the climb over Vogelsang Pass. If my calf worsened, I would be in for some long days. Knowing I had plans to attempt Mt. Whitney later in the month also weighed on my mind. I sat under the shade and considered my options. I took my phone out of Alpine mode and discovered that I had two bars of signal. I guess we had a line of sight into Yosemite Valley. I spoke with Anita, and I decided to let the descent tomorrow be the judge. If the calf felt ok, then I would continue my trek. If not, I would cross Tiagoa Road and should be able to get a hitch back to my car. With a plan in place, I cooked up my dinner and watched the sun dip behind the mountains.
Day 3: May Lake to Sunrise Trailhead
I awoke just after 5:30 and quickly packed up. The calf did not cramp overnight, but I could still feel it as I broke camp. Instead of making breakfast, I tossed a few bars into my hip belt pocket and set off. I figured the sooner I got to the road, the better I might find a hiker driving in for a day hike.
The descent went smoothly, and from time to time, I could see Half Dome in the distance. When the grade was steep enough, I could feel the tightness in my calf, validating my decision to end early. I reached the first May Lake Trailhead and tossed the trash I had been carrying. From there, I continued on the High Country Highway, according to the information sign. Bits of the asphalt were visible as I hiked along.
I did spy a bear print in the sand, just a reminder that there is a reason for all those warnings. Upon reaching the road, I crossed over and cruised on toward the Sunrise Trailhead. I figured I would have a better chance getting a hitch there than just on the side of the road with no place to pull over. This section was nice and flat, and my calf was thankful. I was bummed not to be continuing, as, except for that issue, everything else was going pretty well. The parking lot was filled with cars and hikers getting ready to head out. This is the primary trailhead for Cloud’s Rest, an epic hike that takes you to a view of Yosemite Valley from the east end. It is one that is on my list as well. I stood with my thumb out, and after a few cars drove past, two ladies in a Jeep pulled over and offered me a lift. Turns out they were backpacking down to Glen Aulin, so I filled them in on everything I just did. They dropped me off at the Lambert Dome parking area, and they headed down the side road to find parking. I cruised back to the car. Once back at the car, I tossed my backpack in and was going to stop off at the permit office, but the line was out the door.
I had tickets to see Alison Krauss and Union Station back in San Diego that night, so I was on a timetable. I purchased those tickets before I won the lottery for this trip. We had been trying to sell them, but had no luck. I stopped off at the small market and bought a cup of coffee to go with another bar I was eating. At the Tuolumne Meadows Visitor Center, I took advantage of the real restroom to change out of my hiking gear and into something comfortable to make the long drive home. Since I did not get my Yosemite patch when I was at the Visitor Center on Wednesday, I had to wait for them to open at 9. Once they did open, I grabbed my patch and a couple of other items, paid for them, and hit the road. I fueled the car back up in Bishop. Unfortunately, I would be passing through Big Pine too early to stop at Copper Top BBQ, so I would have to settle for something quick in Lone Pine. I did make another stop at Manzanar and got both my Junior Ranger badge and an Eastern Sierra Pear that was grown nearby. The rest of the drive was as exciting as you might imagine. I made it home in time to shower and make it to the concert, which I enjoyed, and my wife tolerated. Now to let that calf recover for a few days, then keep focusing on Mt. Whitney!
I am an avid peak bagger, sometimes backpacker, and former sea kayaker living in San Diego. I am the co-author of Urban Trails: San Diego, available now!
After the closure of the Palomar Divide Truck Trail a couple of weeks ago, which forced me to pivot to backpacking Noble Canyon instead, I secured a new overnight permit for Barker Valley. The road had reopened, so that hurdle was no longer in front of me. However, we had some unseasonably warm weather forecast for the start of my trip. Since I was not planning on starting until mid-afternoon and most of the 3 or so mile hike would be descending from the trailhead to Barker Valley, I was overly worried. I made the very familiar drive through Ramona and then Santa Ysabel. After a quick stop for gas at the tribal gas station, I passed on through Warner Springs until I reached the turn-off onto the Palomar Divide Truck Trail. After 8 miles of driving, I reached the trailhead and pulled into a spot off to the side of the road. It was warm, but a nice breeze helped it feel less oppressive. I read over the trailhead kiosk, which I had seen numerous times on my drives up to Palomar High Point, before setting off down the trail.
The trail gently worked its way down, following the contours of the mountain. Sweeping views of Lake Henshaw to the south, and both the Observatories and the Lookout Tower to the north. The trail was slightly overgrown in spots, but nothing too bad. I might return with some clippers to do some trail maintenance, if I felt like making the drive up again. Wildflowers still lined the trail from time to time. Footprints could be seen in the sandy sections of the trail, so it does see some traffic occasionally. About a mile in, a rock arrow pointed the way. This area had a couple of nice campsites on either side of the trail.
After about 1.8 miles, another large rock arrow pointed the way for the trail, which now made a sharp left turn, leaving the ridgeline it had been following. On several maps, a trail is shown continuing along the ridge line, but it appears that it is becoming overgrown. The trail was also starting to become a bit more rocky, so a little more care was needed with my footing as I worked my way down toward the valley. The overgrowth also increased a bit, but nothing a quick push of a trekking pole could not handle. Soon, I found myself in the valley and near the West Fork of the San Luis Rey River. Now I needed to find a campsite and access to water. I carried enough to get me to the campsite and back if things did not work out, but not enough for dinner and breakfast. I passed one campsite, which might have worked, but continued along the trail that paralleled the stream, looking for other camping options as well as water. I came upon a nice campsite near a very large downed oak tree. I had a choice between under the shade of an oak tree or on the open dirt. I brought my REI QuarterDome, so I could lie inside the mesh walls and enjoy the night sky, so the choice of where to pitch my tent was obvious.
I dropped my pack, grabbed my CNOC water bag, and set off to find water to filter. At first, I found a large pool of water with bits of algae floating on top of it. No worse than what I have seen used by those on the Arizona Trail, but I decided to keep exploring before settling on this as my water source. Soon, I heard the sounds of flowing water and made my way back to the edge of the stream. I placed my bag into the gently flowing stream and had 3 liters in a matter of moments. I trekked the 0.3 miles back to the campsite and began to set up camp. As the sun was beginning to set, the mosquitoes were starting to come out in force. I had my bug net, but I forgot to bring any repellent, so I retreated to my tent (killing the few that had snuck inside). I relaxed, staring at the trees around me and the dance of the bugs on the tent’s mesh. I figured this was good practice for my Yosemite backpacking trip. After the sun had set, I ventured out of the tent and made my dinner.
I listened to my audiobook while I enjoyed a freeze-dried lasagna and waited for the stars to come out. Once it was dark enough, I again worked on some astro-photography before turning in. It actually became quite chilly, and I was glad to have my warmer quilt with me. I woke up around 5:30 and made a cup of hot coffee. It was a bit nippy, so I checked my Govee thermo-hygrometer, and it said it was 31°F! Being in a valley meant the cold air had settled here overnight, hence the temperature difference between the summit forecast and my location. I boiled some more water for my oatmeal and began packing up. Around 6:30, I was ready to head back up the trail.
The climb back to the trailhead went fairly smoothly, I only stopped to remove my fleece and adjust my socks. After about 1:30, I again reached the metal gate, and my backpacking adventure in Barker Valley was over. I tossed my gear into the Outback, changed into a clean shirt, and decided to drive on up the High Point. The road became a bit rougher, and I drove the last 5 miles to the summit. The road to the trailhead is doable in most cars (just drive slow and keep your eyes open), but after the trailhead, I would only recommend something a bit more off-road-friendly (like my Outback). Near the summit, I could see the results of the controlled burn that had been performed recently. The tower was staffed, so I was able to drive all the way to the top. I wandered around the summit, snapping a few photos. It was too windy to have a discussion with the two rangers staffing the tower, so I set off back down the road and home.
The final stats for this adventure were 6.9 miles with 1055 feet of gain (most of it on the way back). My descent time was 1:30 (with some filming time included), and 1:27 for the ascent (less time filming). The video of the trip will be on my YouTube channel soon, so go there and like and subscribe!
I am an avid peak bagger, sometimes backpacker, and former sea kayaker living in San Diego. I am the co-author of Urban Trails: San Diego, available now!
My original plan was to backpack Barker Valley near Palomar; however, about an hour before I was set to drive out, I decided to check the status of the road to the actual trailhead, and it was closed! According to the Forest Service website, the Palomar Divide Trail was closed, meaning I could not get to the trailhead. Not to let a fully packed backpack go to waste, I considered some alternatives; Sitton Peak, Arroyo Seco, and Noble Canyon were options that quickly came to mind. I did not have the ability to quickly get an overnight permit for Sitton, so it was out of the running. Arroyo Seco was possible, but Noble Canyon was closer to the overnight I had planned for Barker Valley. After stopping at the ranger station in Alpine to pick up my permit, I drove on up to the Penny Pines trailhead. I gathered my gear, hung my Adventure Pass (not sure I needed to, but better safe than sorry), and walked through the gate onto the trail. Around the picnic table, 6 PCT thru-hikers were chilling in the shade. We chatted a bit and I learned two were from New Zealand, two from the Netherlands, and two were Americans. I shared some local trail knowledge before wishing them all luck on their journey and set off down my trail to the west. I cruised along, glad to be doing this hike on a weekday and not being worried about getting run over by mountain bikers. Some clouds hung in the air, offering some shade from time to time. Off to the north, I could spy Garnet Peak and Pine Mountain as I worked my way toward Noble Canyon proper.
At about 3.5 miles in, I passed a nice campsite under a large oak tree. I didn’t have any planned camping spot, so I was playing it all by ear. I kept working my way down the canyon, and soon, flowing water could be heard. I came to another campsite, this one larger, but the ground was not nearly as flat as the first one, so I passed on it. After about 5 miles, I threw in the towel and turned back; that first campsite (32.885492° -116.499558°) was going to be my home for the evening.
I set up camp quickly as the sun was starting to dip behind the hill to the west. After dinner, I retreated into my tent to listen to my audiobook before turning in around “hiker midnight“. The nearly full moon shone through the benches and made an interesting pattern on my tent.
I remembered to bring the new pillow this time, and it worked well. I still need to add a bit more loft, but that was to be expected. Around 5:30, I woke up and crawled out of my tent. According to my thermometer, it was about 40°F. I made a cup of coffee and began to break camp. I decided not to have breakfast here, but to head back to Mt. Laguna to hopefully enjoy some tales from PCTers and have a hot meal at the Pine House Café. I made good time back to the car, even doing some filming along the way. At the trailhead, I chatted with some local day hikers getting ready to make a loop up to Garnet Peak. Once their friends pulled in, I said farewell and set off for breakfast. The Kind bar was enough for those 3 miles, but I now needed a real meal. The Café was closed when I arrived, and a few PCTers were milling about, waiting for it to open. Normally, they are closed on Thursday, but the owner decided to open anyway. I shared a table with a gentleman who has hiked the PCT multiple times. We had a fantastic chat over coffee and our meal. The common thread was “taking advantage of the time you have”. With our stomachs full, we bid goodbye, he continued walking northward and I drove back home. I am going to need to find the time to hike Noble Canyon from the other trailhead and see if there are campsites in that section.
I am an avid peak bagger, sometimes backpacker, and former sea kayaker living in San Diego. I am the co-author of Urban Trails: San Diego, available now!
As I am working on completing the 100 Peak Challenge for a second time, I needed to climb East Mesa – Peak 5178. When I did the challenge in 2019, I climbed East Mesa High Point, as Derek did not define which East Mesa to summit. He later clarified that the correct peak is East Mesa – Peak 5178. Rather than simply hiking out and bagging the peak, I opted to camp at Granite Springs Primitive Campground, which is just a short distance from the peak. I bought my overnight permit from the kiosk at the Green Valley Campground (Friday through Sunday, the kiosk is staffed), then drove the short distance to the Sweetwater parking area. I grabbed my pack and headed up the Harvey Moore Trail. The trail starts climbing right from the trailhead, so the light breeze that was blowing was welcomed. After about 0.7 miles, the grade lessened, and I kept cruising along. Oakzanita stood off to my right, and Cuyamaca and Cush-Pi (Stonewall) stood far off to my left.
As I passed through East Mesa, I spied East Mesa – Peak 5178, and considered climbing immediately after I set up camp, but I wanted to secure my camping spot first. Soon, the water pump came into view, and I had arrived at the campground. There were three sites here, so I went down the trail past the pit toilets to view my options for the evening. I settled on site #1, under the shade of some large oaks. The other two sites looked fine, but this one also had some nice logs to sit upon and relax. I set up my tent without issue. I had wanted to try a new pillow on this trip, and accidentally brought my old one instead (I actually brought both, but did not see the one I wanted to try until the next morning!). Since it was still Passover, I could not eat a dehydrated meal, so I had packed other food for my time out there. I also decided to bring my own water and not treat the water from the pump. The sun soon dipped behind Peak 5178, and it began to cool down. I slipped into my tent and relaxed, listening to an audiobook until I drifted off to sleep. I got up once during the evening and grabbed a few night shots before huddling back under my quilt.
Around 6, I woke and had my breakfast. That hot coffee sure hit the spot. My thermometer said it dropped to 38°F overnight. I went back down the East Mesa Fire Road for a short distance before heading cross-country toward the southern slope of Peak 5178.
Initially, the slope was covered in simple grasses and ankle-high brush, but as I worked my way up, the vegetation began to change. With about 40 feet of elevation to go to the summit, I now had to bushwhack my way through the last 100 yards or so. The brush was thick, and more than once, I would try one path, only to reach a thick wall. With a little luck (and a few drops of blood), I reached the summit. A small rock cairn denoted the peak. I could see the fog below me, which made for a unique view. Once I had taken in the view, I whacked my way through the brush and back onto the southern slope. As I cruised along the Harvey Moore Trail once again, I began descending into the fog. I stopped and slipped on my jacket before continuing. Soon, I was back in my car and ready to head home after a great overnight trip. The hike out was 3.9 miles with 979 feet of gain. The side trip up to Peak 5178 was about 300 feet of gain and took about 35 minutes. I think I will find the time to explore the other primitive campground, Arroyo Seco, before too long.
I am an avid peak bagger, sometimes backpacker, and former sea kayaker living in San Diego. I am the co-author of Urban Trails: San Diego, available now!
When I awoke and saw that it had rained overnight, I wondered what the conditions at Corte Madera might be like. I checked the forecast, and it remained as before: a high in the mid-60s, a forecasted low in the mid-40s, and a light breeze. After lunch with Rick to discuss an upcoming trip, we tossed my gear in the car and set off under still cloudy skies. I needed a wilderness permit, so I stopped at the Ranger Station in Alpine and picked one up. The Ranger had never heard of anyone camping back there, so I filled her in on the details from my last trip. With my permit in hand, I drove out to the trailhead. As I neared the Laguna Crest, the clouds stopped, and a warm sun shone down. Once at the parking area, I quickly shouldered my pack and set off. I cruised along the road to the turn-off to the Espinoza trail and began working my way up toward the Espinoza saddle. As I neared the saddle, I could see the clouds covering it. Once there, the views to the west were completely socked in. I hoped that the campsite would be above them. I turned onto the road and headed toward the next junction. Thankfully, I quickly did rise above the cloud layer, and the sun once again shone down.
I climbed up the steep trail, testing out the grip of my new shoes and enjoying their lightness with every step. Unlike last time, where I needed to stop at one of the overlooks, I felt great and pushed on. The manzanita is beginning to encroach on the trail, so long pants and long-sleeved shirts are highly recommended. Corte Madera finally came into view, sitting above a blanket of clouds below. I cruised over to the same campsite I used before. Since I was filming this trek, I set up my camera and recorded a time-lapse of setting up.
Once set up, I hiked the 0.1 miles over to the summit. After enjoying the view and reflecting on recent events, I headed back to camp. Initially, I had hoped to sleep without the rain fly, but some fog rolled in, and I reluctantly added it. I cooked my dinner as the sun sank beneath the clouds. Retreating to my tent, I listened to some podcasts for a while. The fog had retreated, and the stars shone in the moonless night sky. I spent some time taking photos, adjusting various settings on the iPhone’s camera, and taking advantage of having a tripod.
I woke before sunrise and made a cup of coffee, which I enjoyed in the tent. I headed back over to the summit to watch the actual sunrise. There was a peace in my heart and a sense of comfort as its rays spread across the vista before me. Returning back to camp, I finished packing up and headed out. The return went quickly, as a warm breakfast was waiting for me in Alpine. One of the questions I had was how much water I would consume during this overnight. I carried out 4.25 liters and only used about 2.25 liters. If I had made a proper breakfast, then I probably would have been closer to using 3 liters. I also drank a liter before leaving, so that reduced my water usage as well. With that, only two more peaks to climb to finish the 2025 San Diego Six-Pack of Peaks Challenge.
I am an avid peak bagger, sometimes backpacker, and former sea kayaker living in San Diego. I am the co-author of Urban Trails: San Diego, available now!
When blisters forced me to end my thru-hike of the California Riding and Hiking Trail in Joshua Tree, I began thinking of options to complete the last 11 miles. Initially, in mid-March, I had planned to hike the Eagle Rock Loop in Arkansas in conjunction with my grand-niece’s 3rd birthday. Unfortunately, my sister’s condition worsened, and she was placed on hospice. So, I decided to reschedule that backpacking trek until the fall. That also meant that I would have the time to spend the two days I needed to finish off the CRHT. We flew back to Little Rock for the birthday, but my sister took an unexpected turn and passed away late Saturday evening. My wife and I arrived home in San Diego very late on Monday. When it was just a visit, just the party and time with family, I penciled in doing the CRHT on the Wednesday and Thursday after we returned. I talked it over with Anita, and she said I should still go. Some time alone out in the wilderness will be good for you, plus Mindy always loved my adventures. It let her “get out” when she no longer could. So, on Tuesday, I assembled my gear and was ready to set out for some healing time on the trail.
My plan was straightforward: Start from the North Entrance Trailhead, hike to the Geology Road Trailhead, then make a U-turn and hike back to the car. The drive out was pretty uneventful. This time, I made sure I had my hiking shoes. Actually, two pairs of hiking shoes. After the blisters for the first attempt and an issue during my hike in Borrego Palm Canyon, I decided to switch to Altra Lone Peak 9’s. This hike would be their maiden voyage on my feet. I did bring my Merrell Moab 2’s just in case I found that I did not like the new shoes, I might be able to return to the car and switch my footwear. I planned two water caches; the first was two 1-liter bottles at the Arch Rock Trailhead (1 liter for the hike out and the other for the hike back), and the second cache was at the Geology Road Trailhead, where I left one 1-liter bottle. Like before, I carried two 1-liter bottles on the sides of my pack and a .75-liter bottle in my shoulder pouch.
I parked at the trailhead and gathered my gear. The weather was perfect, with just a light breeze. I brought my tripod again, this time hoping for more filming along the way. The trail heads mostly southward and gently gains in elevation. After just 6 miles, I spotted Belle Campground and made a slight detour. I used the pit toilet and found an empty picnic table to sit at and enjoy my lunch. After some tuna, oranges, and a Kit-Kat bar, I set off toward the Arch Rock Trailhead. There, I picked up one of the water bottles and slipped it into my pack.
The trail now turned eastward. As my shoes crunched on the desert floor, my thoughts turned to my sister. My mom had given her up for adoption before I was even born (11 years to be exact), and I did not learn of her existence until 2000 (by accident). Finally, in 2018, we discovered one another and had seven wonderful years together. Soon, I spotted the recommended campsite and found a perfect spot to pitch my tent. After setting up camp, I looked at the time and was feeling good, so I changed my plans. Initially, I had planned to hike out to Geology Road to pick up the water cache in the morning and hike the 11+ miles back to the car. Instead, I decided to go ahead and hike over, get the liter, and hike back, making it closer to the original plan in February. I left the trekking poles behind as they were holding up my tent and headed out. It was so weird to hike without them, I didn’t know what to do with my hands… Soon, I saw the glint of sunlight on a windshield and knew the trailhead was close. I reached it in no time and gathered my water. I reflected on the difference—the last time I was here hiking, my feet had blisters, and I was completely defeated. This time, while my heart was filled with sadness from the loss of my sister, the rest of me felt great, including the feet in the new shoes.
Once back at camp, I relaxed in the chair I brought and watched the sun sink lower over the horizon. I made dinner and soon crawled into my tent to drift off to sleep. Initially, there was to be a SpaceX launch out of Vandenberg around 11, but I had a cell signal and learned that the launch had been delayed, so I deleted that alarm from my phone. During the night, I did wake up and try for some photographs of the incredibly starry night I was sleeping under. I really need to find some good tutorials of how to adjust the settings to get better night photography.
I woke around 6, before the sunrise. As I packed up, I kept an eye out toward the east to capture the first rays of the rising sun. After a quick breakfast of oatmeal and a cup of coffee, I was ready to head out. While yesterday was fairly easy, today was even easier as it was almost all downhill. I spent more time reflecting on my sister, letting this journey be a part of my grieving and healing process. Some formal events were planned, but I needed time for myself. I picked up my remaining bottle and kept on cruising. I again made a bio-break at Belle Campground and dumped my trash. I passed a few folks starting their journey as I drew nearer to the end of mine. Once back at the camp, I was happy to have hiked the entire trail, and while not all in one go, it was still a continuous footpath. After a stop at the Visitor Center for some stickers and a patch, I enjoyed a good burger and a well-earned beer in Joshua Tree. As for the shoes, they worked pretty well, although I did develop one blister. I suspect it might be my pace again. For both legs of the hike, I held just over 21-minute miles, which is really fast. I think if I just went slower, my feet would be fine. The final stats were 23.3 miles in 9:27 and 1,700 feet of gain.
I am an avid peak bagger, sometimes backpacker, and former sea kayaker living in San Diego. I am the co-author of Urban Trails: San Diego, available now!
My good friend Ted H. said he would love to join me, along with one of his long-time hiking buddies. The basic plan was for me to drive to various spots along the trail and cache the water we would need along our trek. After that, I would spend the night car camping at Blackrock Campground, which is conveniently located next to the western end of the trail. With my gear packed into the Subaru, I left for Joshua Tree in the morning, hoping to have a relaxing day. I pre-ordered a sandwich from Jersey Mike’s along the way. Not 15 minutes into the drive, Anita calls me to let me know I forgot to pack my eggs in the cooler. Thankfully, she was headed in my general direction, so at least I did not have to drive all the way home. With that crisis averted, I again headed northward, just a little behind schedule. Around Menifee, something clicked in my head, “Did I pack my hiking boots?!” Normally, I wear them out the door when I go hiking, but I was in my regular shoes for some comfort. I found a place to pull over and check, and sure enough, I had forgotten them! Anita was working in East County, so she could not help me this time. Back to San Diego I went. I called Jersey Mike’s to put my sandwich away, as I would be delayed in picking it up. With my hiking shoes acquired, I got back on the road. Given the delay I did swap the order of the water caches, just in case I had further unexpected delays.
Stop one was now the end of Upper Covington Flats Road. Since this was about a ten-mile drive along a dirt road, it made sense to do this while I had daylight. The rest of the caches would be near easily accessible roads. The road was in good shape, and a few pools of water from the recent rains did offer a little fun to the drive (and the need for a car wash later). A lone Prius sat at the trailhead as I tucked 3 gallons of water under some brush. Each cache would have a gallon for each of us. Next, I headed to what would be our last cache, near the parking area for Arch Rock. I wanted to place these jugs a little further from the trailhead, as this spot is heavily trafficked, and did not want someone to accidentally use our water. From there, I drove westward to Geology Road for what was planned for our water for the end of day 2. The final cache was to be placed at the trailhead to Juniper Flats. With our water safely tucked away, I drove back toward Blackrock, making a stop at Stater Bros. to grab a steak to grill, some firewood, and an orange juice for the morning.
The sun had set, so it took a little bit to find my campsite. I quickly unloaded, set up the Luno, and started a fire. The winds made it chilly, so I was glad to have a fire to warm up. I grilled my steak, this time just right. I enjoyed it, along with a nice salad and fine beer from The Bruery. Tomorrow was going to be the start of a big adventure, so I turned in just as the moon was rising over the hills to the east.
It was chilly when I woke up, and I quickly cooked my eggs. I packed up my car camping gear and drove over to the backcountry parking area. The plan was for Mark to drive over to the eastern terminus of the trail and get picked up by Ted and Andrea. The original plan was to start at around 8. Unfortunately, Mark got a late start leaving his campsite. Adding to the mix, the cell network was completely down, so we had no method of communication with each other. Finally, just before 10, they returned from the car shuttle setup, and we could hit the trail.
I carried 3.75 liters of water as we set off on the trail. I did consider having Andrea drive us down to Covington Flats Trailhead and just start from there so we would have time to easily make the planned campsite. The others felt that we should be ok, so we stuck to the original plan. The recent rains compacted the sandy section, making the hiking a bit nicer. This first section was a steady climb, the wind was making the day chilly. Both San Jacinto and San Gorgonio’s snow-capped summits peaked into view from time to time.
After about 6 miles, we found a spot out of the wind and had a snack break. I had hoped to film a lot more on the trip, but that 2-hour delay scuttled that plan. Once we reached Upper Covington Flats, we each strapped our gallon of water to our packs and continued on (after another snack). The sun was setting, and it was pretty clear that we were not going to make the planned campsite. There was another possible site that was only 2.8 miles further, so that became our new destination.
The water jug made a rhythmic sound as I hiked down the trail. When I came to the location of the campsite, it was clearly not going to work. The site sat on the crest above a valley, and the winds were howling. I was actually being pushed from time to time. Setting up camp here was not an option. So, we dropped down and found a spot that was a bit more sheltered. We each found a spot to pitch our respective tents. I did not repeat what happened on San Gorgonio, so I made sure all my tent stakes were highly secured. I set up my camp chair I opted to bring and cooked up dinner. The winds made it too chilly to sit around and chat, so after I ate, I retreated to my tent and listened to an audiobook. The tent would feel the wind, but it held firm. I drifted off to a little sleep, as the winds would wake me briefly. Around midnight, the winds calmed down, and I drifted into a nice slumber. I woke up just before sunrise to answer nature’s call and caught a nice morning sky. I crawled back under my quilt for a little more rest before really starting the day.
I emerged from my tent around 7, and I cooked up some oatmeal and a nice hot cup of coffee. As I was packing up, I could not locate my tent stake bag. My guess was that I left it out and the winds blew it away. I did scout the surrounding brush, but no luck (I later found them tucked in my jacket). I was ready to hit the trail at about 8, however, we did not hit the trail until 9. Thankfully, without the wind, it was quite pleasant. From time to time, we would see trail runners race past along the trail above us.
The trail continued descending for a while before we would have two steep climbs that would have us enter Juniper Flats proper. I reached the crest and found a nice rock to wait for Ted and Mark to rejoin me. I soaked in the view and the silence. Once back together, Ted and I set off together, with Mark keeping his own pace. The plan was to rejoin at the Juniper Flats trailhead and top off our water from the cache I had left on Friday. As I was descending, I felt a couple of hot spots forming. At the trailhead, I put some KT blister tape on where I thought they were.
After a nice lunch, I went solo, as Mark was just pulling in as I was set to head out. I again was concerned about our timing to reach the next planned site and the water as well. I tossed my empty water jug into the recycling at Ryan Campground and motored on. I could feel my feet, but I hoped the blister tape would do its job. I had a slight climb leaving Ryan Campground, but then the trail leveled out.
My feet started to hurt more, so I stopped under the shade of a Juniper tree and took a look at them. A quarter-sized blister had formed on the balls of each foot. This was not good. I applied more KT tape, but I suspected that I might have to call it. My best guess is I actually was hiking too fast to make up for our delayed starts and created the friction to cause them to form. I began thinking of options. I could camp early and then hike to Geology Road in the morning. I could attempt to make it to the planned site and either backtrack to Geology Road and get picked up or if the feet were up to it, limp to Arch Rock and bail there. Hiking to the end was no longer an option. As I drew nearer to Geology Road, I began messaging Anita about her driving out to pick me up. I actually hoped to hitch a ride from someone who could take me back to my car, but first I needed to tell Ted and Mark of my plan to bail here. So I set up my chair and waited. I actually had a cell signal, so I called Anita and gave her the details for plan B if I could not hitch a ride.
After about 30 minutes, they reached the trailhead. I told Ted where the water was at Arch Rock and began looking for someone returning from driving Geology Road. Sure enough, the first car stopped and had room for me and my gear and was headed in the right direction. I said my farewells to Ted and Mark. My rescuers kindly drove me back to my car. Once back out of the park, I texted Anita that she could return home, as she had preemptively started out to meet me. I tossed my gear into my car and bid farewell to my rescuers.
My adventure was not quite over. I opted to fuel up at the Morongo gas station and grab dinner at In-n-Out. As I entered the traffic circle, a Mercedes Benz SUV cut in front of me, causing me to slam on my brakes, and unfortunately, my burger and fries flew off the seat onto the floor. I lost about half my fries, but the burger was still intact. Thankfully, that was the last of the misadventures.
I did hear from Ted that they completed the hike, but he, too, had blisters that slowed him down.
I am an avid peak bagger, sometimes backpacker, and former sea kayaker living in San Diego. I am the co-author of Urban Trails: San Diego, available now!
