Day 33: Mile 361.7 - 374.0

And today is the day I hiked with Ismael!

I remember soon after I had first let it be known that I intended to do the PCT--this was back in 2019, back when I planned to do it in 2020--Ismael came up to me after church. I had known Ismael as a fellow member of the hospitality team, but it turns out he had also hiked the AT a few years back. Hey, Charlie, are you hiking the PCT?, he asked. Yep, I said. Great!, he said, and we promptly talked trail for the next hour. There was a board meeting after church that Sunday, and though we spoke in the wings of the Sanctuary, we did get shushed a time or two. But we kept talking, about gear, about the Sierras (he's done the JMT too), about preparation and planning and everything else under the sun. More accurately, mostly Ismael did the talking, and mostly I tried to absorb everything I could from the fire hose of his experience (albeit always delivered in a down-to-earth manner, with that smile twinkling in his eye). After that, any time I had a question, I would track him down after church and pick his brain on this decision or that gear choice. Personally, I think of Ismael as an elder--both in age and in experience--which, for someone with an Asian background like me, means a lot.

So when Ian mentioned that Ismael wanted to hike part of the PCT with me, I said, of course! Whatever section Ismael wants to hike with me, he gets!

We broke camp late and, as usual, Tina and Heather formed the forward team, with J-Pro and I serving as sweeper. But this was ok: Ismael was driving up to Wrightwood from LA, then hiking up the Acorn Trail to meet me on the PCT, so I figured I had some time. Yet when we came to the Acorn Trail junction just a bit over a mile away, Tina and Heather were talking to someone at the junction. And it was Ismael, who had gotten there, well, about the time we broke camp! He had gotten dropped off in Wrightwood early early in the morning, hiked up (the very steep) Acorn Trail, and been waiting there for about half an hour already.

To my embarrassment, I didn't recognize him at first. Ismael always wears this striking white hat at FBCP--I'm not sure I even know what the top of his actual head looks like--and between a different hat and sunglasses, it took me a moment or two. He had trouble seeing me too, although that was likely because the sun was behind me. Is that Charlie?, he asked, shading his eyes despite the sunglasses. But we figured it out quickly enough, and got to greetings. Tina and Heather and J-Pro continued on, but I dallied a bit: Ismael had brought up a Powerade and I was running low on water so I stopped to chug that. Then we pulled on our bags--his with a Christmas bell on a string jingling away behind him--and we started out, chatting as we went.

The goal was to hike out to Vincent Gap at the base of Baden-Powell, about 10 miles hence. Over this stretch, the PCT was content to hold its elevation, rising and falling as it went up and down over the hilltops, but no extended climbs or descents. It wandered through these now pine forests, amongst the large trunks, weaving back and forth with the roads and now ski lifts (with their accommpanying blue pools for generating snow in low years, and decorated with signs prohibiting swimming), working its way west. I told Ismael this was actually a good introduction to the PCT. First, even though it was "only" 10 miles, it felt it was taking much longer than that, and that's a thing: 1 mile on the PCT always feels longer than 1 mile from a normal day-hike (there must be a reason for this) (I don't know what it is). Second, the PCT hides itself: rarely can you see the trail ahead, often you only see a little bit, the next rise, where it curves around the next bend, this next little drop then it quickly turns to the left and disappears again. Even when it can't but reveal itself, for example over exposed terrain, it twists and turns and goes-around so often you can only see at most a couple of big curves ahead. Like a line at Disneyland, it always keeps you guessing: you never can quite see where it's going! Third, it never picks the level and easy way. Even up here, where there are plenty of perfectly good dirt roads with easy grades going basically where you want to go, nope, says the PCT, it picks its own way, often shadowing the road (though hidden upslope, behind the trees), and always going up and down, up and down. For his part, Ismael kept up with it all which was impressed: I was fine today after sleeping a night at 8000 feet. But if this had been yesterday, and I had started at even Cajon at 3000 feet, I would have been gassed up here. Ismael, though, was coming from effectively sea level in LA, then hiking 2000+ feet in 2 miles up the Acorn Trail, then keeping pace up and down and over the hillsides up here at 8000: if those legs and lungs were working overtime--as surely they were--well, they weren't really showing it! (Unless he's blazingly fast at sea level, which is also a possibility!)

And we talked. We talked about whatever came up. We talked about trails, about how he had started with a hiking group lead by Tim--one of Ismael's mentors--and how Tim planned hikes to build people up over the season, and how Ismael had leveraged that to eventually doing hikes on his own. We talked about trail maintenance, and the continual tension between wanting to get people out here, to see this amazing stuff and walk these smooth trails, and the erosion that results, eventually wearing down these selfsame trails. (Is there a good solution for that? We didn't know.) We talked about lots of the plants and trees up here. He pointed out the currants, got me excited about when they'll eventually bear fruit. He pointed out that some of the trees can smell of chocolate, and buried his nose in a few, although he couldn't find one up here. And he told stories from the AT--lots of stories from the AT--mostly about the people he had met on trail. For those, I recommend asking him yourself: Ismael is a friendly, gregarious guy--I think the only expressions I've ever seen on his face are smiles and wonder--and if you genuinely ask a thru-hiker about their thru-hike, well, you're usually in for an earful. Plus Ismael is "trail people" through and through, and is able to not only be that on trail, but can take it "down the mountain" and continue to be that in "real life" as well.

And he makes other people trail people as well. We stopped for lunch under a big fir tree standing tall alone on a bushed hill, beside a dirt road. And as we setup under the low branches, a truck drove up, driven by a camper we had met at Guffy campground earlier. He was car camping--you can drive up here?, Ismael had asked, and I could already see the gears turning in his head, planning out future possibilities--and we had chatted about the campground, and where there was water, and the PCT. Well, when he drove up now, he recognized us, stopped and asked, do you guys need anything? Water? Sure, Ismael said, and the guy pulled over and topped off Ismael's bottles. Just a random guy, little idea about the PCT until talking to us this morning, now helping out strangers however he can. *That's* trail people.

Oh, and for lunch Ismael had brought all the goodies: almond covered M&Ms, little hazelnut/chocolate squares, the aforementioned Powerade. And not all just empty calories: cutie oranges, dried Philippine mango, and an apple as well. It was a good lunch, under that tree, enjoying the shade and the light breeze. The only thing missing was Ismael's hammock, which he extolled breathlessly: but for want of another tree, it would have been perfect here! And then it would sway ever so gently in that breeze--oh, it would be so good!

The hike continued on, over hill and dale, with some magnificent views of Baden-Powell (wait, you mean the trail goes up *that*) ahead, and Mount Baldy now in the rear view. We passed Inspiration Point--worth the drive up just to see the mountains open up before you, the valleys draping down from the granite poles of the surrounding peaks--we passed all manner of little drive-up campgrounds (and again, I could *see* the gears turning in Ismael's head), we passed views of the desert below glanced between tree trunks (and wondered, those large white portions of much lighter sand, those must be dry lakes, right?), and finally, in the end, we came to Vincent Gap at the base of Baden-Powell and took a seat in the parking lot. Ian would come pick us up and take us into Wrightwood for dinner where, to my surprise, Chip (from FBCP) and Gretchen (from FBCP--not the Gretchen with Jailbreak and Emily) met us. It was nice to unwind the day with real, cooked food and good company, and I got up-to-date on all the happenings not only at FBCP--new movements toward returning indoors into the Sanctuary, and a couple of newborn babies!--but all the news, from baseball to COVID to Gaza. (And you wonder why I sometimes prefer the mountains!) It was just a relaxing dinner, out on the patio, and I got a massive desert which was very good and which I was surprised there was room for (the hiker hunger hasn't kicked back in yet, although just you wait). Unfortunately, I wasn't much of a conversationalist, my head still making the transition off the mountain--it's hard sometimes to reconcile the time of the trail with the time of modern life--but hopefully I wasn't too much of a dead zone at the table!

And then Ian and Ismael and I drove down the mountain, and we dropped Ismael off at his house, where Vivian came out (is that Charlie?, she asked, then: you look like you've lost weight!) and I thanked her for letting me borrow Ismael for the day, and then Ian and I went back to his place and I crashed there for the night.

And that was the hike!

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Some notes:

-- Campsite > Acorn Trail Junction > Guffy Campground > Vincent Gap > Wrightwood > Pasadena

-- Today we finally got into the pine forests that J-Pro had been enthused about when we started the climb yesterday. In particular, yesterday he had been enthused about climbing up into the clouds (foiled--they burned away by the time we reached Swarthout Canyon, at the bottom of the climb) and about walking in the pine forests. And when I say enthused, I mean enthused in that J-Pro way, mentioning it while looking out to the horizon, soft-voiced, with a slight smile curling the tips of his words. J-Pro's a quieter cat, tall and lanky, so it's all in the tone, rather than the expression.

-- Oh, and I finally installed Peak Finder AR--as per Martin's suggestion back at Deep Creek Bridge--and spent much of the day playing with it, identifying peaks whenever I could. It works! It's not completely idiot-proof--I have to look at the profiles on teh screen and manually line them up with what I'm seeing--but it works and it works pretty well, does name peaks pretty reliably (I think). Hopefully, it'll help give me a better sense of geography and place as I walk the trail.