Day 31: Mile 320.1 - 341.9

Oh what a difference a day makes!

Today, I did the full Ismael: not only waking before dawn, but getting on the trail before dawn. Mostly because Tina and Heather were headed out that early, but also because I wanted to try it. And I think it helped. I remember Halfpint used to say that hiking in the early morning felt "virtuous". I think it makes me feel not lazy, and not lazy is indeed a virtue in American culture so I'll roll with it. But I think the real benefit of starting that early is that you never feel rushed: by the time breakfast rolls around at 8 or 9, you feel you're starting the day and already have so many miles under your belt. It just makes the rest of the day seem either 1) straightforward, or 2) even better, a bonus, which makes it all much more relaxed.

We got going at 5:40am, about 10 minutes before technical sunrise and maybe half an hour before mountain sunrise (i.e., when the sun clears that last, gating ridge). I will say that guarding against the cold in rain jacket and gloves helped a lot: much more nimble getting things together. We started hiking and I watched as the sun rose over the valley below, the light shining down the roads and over the little ponds between flat yellow fields and the occasional herd of cattle. It was pretty, but I was still feeling out-of-sorts and out-of-place, same as yesterday.

I got ahead of Tina and Heather, and the trail continued the theme it had established yesterday: wandering around the foothills, slowly dropping down towards the valley below. This morning had the added benefit of dark clouds rolling in from the mountains. Eventually the trail bounced off the valley floor and started climbing back up and over the nearby ridge, before doing a series of switchbacks and clearing over a ridge.

And then the day became magical, absolutely magical.

On the other side of the ridge, Silverwood Lake spread out before me. The clouds from last night were still in force, trampling over the mountains on the far side of the lake, rendering the wooded slopes alpine and mysterious. From the east, the sun--still low in the morning--was streaming in through the clouds, leaving a shimmering trail across the dark water. And in the water, small fishing boats out and about; and along the water, folks already set at their favorite spots, lines in the water, waiting for a bite. It was amazing: behind me, the desert with overcast clouds threatening rain (it wasn't going to rain, but it was threatening to), but before me this huge lake, stretching to the sun on one side, and on the other into an unknown yet to explore.

And the trail, of course, headed to the other side, winding around the north side of the lake, heading west. And after a bit, I crossed another bluff and ahead of me was yet another section of the lake, sheltered behind a narrower inlet, and now--with the sun behind me and more clouds ahead--a rainbow appeared, pale but steady, dropping down into the water. Again, absolutely magical. And the trail continued wandering the shore above the water, and I looked down to see more fisherman and boats and the lake ahead tucked between green slopes and I decided to head down to the Cleghorn picnic area to have breakfast.

And who was down at the picnic area than Boomerang! On the hike here, when the trail had pinged the road at the bottom of the valley, I had heard my name called out and Boomerang had pulled up behind me. So I knew he was going to the picnic area but it was still a treat to see him. And what's more, by the time Heather and Tina had arrived, he had a chili going which he offered to us, and some bagels. So I had two breakfasts: my standard grape-nuts-with-chia-seeds, then this really good New Zealand chili (so-called because Boomerang and his wife had invented it on the road in New Zealand) and a cinamon-raisin bagel, while sitting in the sun on a parking-lot curb by a little camper.

And lest you think it ends there: oh no, because when the trail continued, it headed west over the mountains to get to the drier, more desert-y valley on the other side, only now the clouds were rolling in from above so I was climbing (got separated from Heather and Tina again) up into the clouds. The trail wasn't hard here, mostly inclines and switchbacks rather than straight climbs, and as it crested over the mountains, I would look up at the once-peak now-hill, and watch the once-clouds now-fog just stream over, moving so fast! Sure it's chilly, and sure it's windy, but just look at it pour down the mountain, driven by some force that must be gargantuan strong, right? And right there in front of me!

From the crest, the trail dropped down into a desert valley on the other side, which I could just glimpse, warm and sunny, underneath the low clouds. And as the trail dropped, at exactly 12:36--I noted on my watch--as I stepped down into a small dip in the trail, the air changed, from a cold mountain air with a chilling wind, to a hot desert air with a cooling breeze, and I was traveling along the chaparraled foothills above the desert. I stopped for lunch at a bend in the trail, sitting on a tumble of rocks from a steep, dry streambed, shaded in the riparian cocoon that had grown up around it, watching the wind play with the high branches above but enjoying only brushes of it down here. Heather and Tina passed me, then I would join up with them again when I passed by their lunch site, less than a mile down the trail.

The three of us then headed out the trail continued along the foothills, fairly level, but the desert floor to our right was slowly rising up to meet us, until we were in a narrow desert canyon, following a string of power line towers up through a pass. And the trail got to the end of the pass and took a sharp right to switchback up the other slope of the canyon, and as it turns you notice you glance to your left and notice that there's nothing there but air. Because you're standing at the top of these cliffs of what looks like sandstone, and it's just a drop below--don't stray too close to the edge!--but look out and see just canyons and ridges laid out before you, streaming down, and interspersed with the cliff walls that look like some giant animal, some giant beast of legend-times grazed here, not on grass but on mountains, chomping away, its flat front teeth gouging out these jagged drops of stone. It was absolutely stunning. It was windy too but that I didn't mind--as I told Heather and Tina, if you've hiked in southern California, you appreciate the wind as it breaks the heat, and it certainly did here. This was an incredible descent, winding back and forth and around the ridges, often walking the tops of these cliffs, and seeing the land roll out below, and in the far distance, Highway 15 at Cajon Pass, and the infamous McDonald's, which was where we were going.

Only before the Highway, when we finally got to the base of the hills, there appeared a little carved canyon, where a now-trickling but in rainy-season surely gushing, stream cut between these rock walls, and sure it was windy here too but this was a (very very very) little Grand Canyon, secreted away here right before the Highway, completely unexpected and--true it made the way to McDonald's that much longer--but c'mon, this is incredible!

And so, finally, we came to Highway 15, to Cajon Pass, and there was a sign on the trail saying McDonald's, 0.4 miles thataway, and we went thataway, and we stood in line and got our McDonald's, and because it was windy on this side of McDonald's, and on that side of McDonald's was the drive-thru so we couldn't sit there, we went to the Chevron station next door and sat in front there. And I ate my chicken mcnuggets and my apple pie and my caramel sundae in what wasn't a windy spot, and I finally talked some to Simple Soul and Crackers who we had been leapfrogging all day, and the sun came out and warmed the concrete and my bones, and it was good.

This night, because Heather refused to spend another night in the wind, we got a room at the Cajon Inn, and crammed four of us--Heather and Tina and J-Pro who would come up afterwards and myself, in a single room. But that meant the day even ended with a shower!

Does this day sound like an embarrassment of riches? Because it was! After what was one of my worst days on trail mentally and emotionally, suddenly I get a day like this, where it's wonder after wonder after wonder. As they say, the trail provides! 

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Some notes:

-- Campsite > Silverwood Lake > Cleghorn Picnic Area > McDonalds > Cajon

-- Our campsite the night before, though protected from the wind, nonetheless felt it. Evidently Heather had a bad night: the wind kept her awake, and when it was bad she would grab the frame of her tent to assure herself it wasn't going to fly away. For me, it was fine: after sleeping that night at the Stagecoach tentsite, with the wind howling all night and kicking sand into my tent (even under the rain fly), I'm pretty confident the tent will stand up to the wind, and I'm pretty sure I'm tired enough that I can sleep. Again, it's pay-to-play: I paid at Stagecoach so--until I get a windier night than that--for now that bill is closed.

-- In the morning, although the clouds were dark and heavy, I still didn't think it would rain since I could see big patches of blue. My theory is that, in southern California, to *start* raining the sky needs to be completely overcast. After it starts raining, blue patches can appear and it can *keep* raining, but the *impetus* requires a fully overcast sky.

-- I spoke to a local fisherman at Silverwood Lake as he unravel a hook from a net before heading down to the shore. He said the fishing was good, so good in fact that the authorities were encouraging catch-and-keep rather than the usual catch-and-release. The fish were striped bass--natural, not seeded--and you could eat them too: in previous years, there had been an algae bloom, but now it was over. Certainly many people thought like him: plenty of folks taking full advantage this early Sunday morning.

-- The real reason I chose to stop at the Cleghorn Picnic Area was because they had bathrooms, and as I arrived the ranger was literally cleaning them. Nice, clean bathrooms, with flush toilets. And not only a drinking fountain outside, but a sink--like a kitchen sink--and *another* sink--like a garage/workaday sink: this spot was pretty good--even without Boomerang's chili!--and well worth not only the extra half-mile hike down a dirt road to get to, but even the half-mile hike back up!

-- Today I met Simple Soul and Crackers, who are hiking together. He's retired, but was an environmental compliance officier at Ames National Laboratory in Tennessee (i.e., *not* the NASA Ames facility in the Bay Area). They invented leadless solder there, were working on some magnetic refridgeration technology when he left. But Simple Soul had chops: was a triple crowner, and was doing the PCT again this year with Crackers. He had spent COVID-2020 actually revamping a van, making it suitable for van-ilfe (if you know what that is; if not, YouTube will show you), although it ran on diesel and I mentioned that diesel isn't popular in southern California. Crackers I learned was a lawyer; I didn't get to talk to her much, though.

-- Yes, going to the McDonald's at Cajon Pass is a Real Thing: there's a sign on the trail and everything. There is actually a challenge whereby you resupply at the McDonald's: you pack out several days worth of food, all from McDonald's. Disconcertingly, it doesn't go bad. I did not undertake this challenge.

-- Today I met J-Pro, who was the other member of Heather and Tina's original team (which evidently consisted of them, J-Pro, Jedi, and AB). J-Pro came in late with a Blue Origin cap on--I asked and while he hadn't worked for them (yet), he had participated in a rocketry competition at university and the hat was swag. After he got in, we went to the gas station convenience store right next to the hotel, just to get some drinks and snacks, and he looked at the back wall of refridgerated drinks and just was a bit startled at the mass of choices. And he was right: going into a supermarket or even just a gas station after being on trail is a bit overwhelming with the sheer amount of not really choice, but *stuff* that's available. So I, for one, trim it away by going in with specific purchases in mind--my standard ginger ale or, barring that, something not alcoholic, not energy drink, and not caffeinated, which reduces it a lot. Although I did pick up a bag of sour patch kids on a whim, so I wasn't completely immune to impulse consumerism...

-- Oh, and a testament to hiker hunger: Heather and Tina got dinner at McDonald's, then as we walked to the hotel we passed a taco truck and that looked good too. So: they had second dinner. (My hiker hunger hasn't kicked in quite that strong yet, so I got away with but a single dinner.)