Day 39: Mile 465.6 - 485.8
Today was just a long day.
We started out from the Bonquet Canyon Road campsite. It was fairly quiet at night: less traffic on the road above, but in the morning the traffic started up again. Only two of us camped there--Runts and myself--and we got up, gathered our stuff, made use of the generously provided water cache, when who should come strolling up but Candy Corn. She would join us, and the three of us would hike together the entire day.
And what a hike! Today was basically going up a mountain range, then going down into a narrow valley, then going up the next mountain range, then going down into a narrow valley, then going up the yet next mountain range, then going down into a narrow valley, and finally being at Lake Hughes Road. There's a fire closure here--from mile 485 to 511--but there's a reroute: you can do a road walk up Lake Hughes Road, then take a left at Pine Canyon Road, and rejoin the PCT when it intersects Pine Canyon Road. This will neatly circumvent the Lake Fire closure. That's the plan, and today we got through the Lake Hughes Road portion, and started up Pine Canyon Road, eventually stopping at an Ostrich Farm (!) where they allow PCT hikers to stay overnight. It's only $5, and you get a nice campsite, flushing toilets (!), potable water, even a picnic table! Oh, and you can visit the ostriches! (And goats, they have some goats too.)
As for the hike, we set out in the morning and made the first climb, where we stopped at the top and I took breakfast, before we started down. From here, we could look out over the next couple canyons, and I noted a bald-looking canyon--rather than shrub-brush, it has a crown of yellow grass, topped with tall trees, and looked very out of place. We then descended down into the next canyon, before wandering a bit and ultimately rising up again to cross over the next range. Here, we visited the Bob Kimmerly memorial bench, beside a wooden sign listing the winners of a 50-mile ultra, it looked like (Scott Jurek appeared a few times). We rested there, in the rare and welcome shade of a big trees with wide, green leaves, before continuing on. After rising over the next range, we dropped down to the Green Valley Fire Station. There was a water cache before the station, nestled in a grove of low-tree high-bush--I want to say they were manzanitas?--and we took lunch there, and Candy Corn fell asleep for a while. We then geared ourselves for the next climb--1000 feet in roughly 1.7 miles, doable and at the incline-level rather than the climb-level. But it was hot by then, 2pm, and my watch read high 80s. Had it been in the 70s or overcast, I think it wouldn't have been bad, but in the high 80s and under cloudless skies, even with the light breeze that would come through on occasion, it was a tough climb.
I came to the top first, and noted a service vehicle parked at the dirt road that ran along the top of the ridge. There was a guy in the driver's seat looking right at me, and I waved, but he didn't wave back. It took me a second to realize he was actually taking a nap!--the vehicle was running just to keep the AC going! I started continuing the trail, then thought better of it and decided to head back to reconnect with Runts and Candy Corn. And as I'm coming back, it looked like the driver was awake and Candy Corn was talking to him. Evidently she noticed the cooler on the back of his truck, and asked for a single ice cube from the cooler, just *one* ice cube, if she could. Well, he said, I don't have ice back there. But I do have cold water, you want that? Oh, yes please!, and we all got a water bottle of cold cold water, which we rubbed on our faces before drinking. Inadvertant trail magic, but trail magic nonetheless, we'll take it!
Incidentally, looking up this dirt road, I noted that weird looking bald peak again, just up the road maybe a mile or two. So we had come pretty far: something that looked distant and far in the morning, now we were walking right next to. And we still had miles to go!
There was a question of where to stay tonight. One possibility was to hit the 16.9 mile mark: there was a campsite there, and we could evaluate whether to stay. But I don't even remember checking that spot. Instead, we got the idea that, hey, at mile 20, we hit Lake Hughes Road, the beginning of the fire closure. And, evidently, if you go into "town", there's an ostrich farm which welcomes hikers.
Do you want to see ostriches? Because I want to see ostriches!
So at some point during the day, that became the goal. Honestly, I think it was a stretch goal for Runts and me, but it became an actual goal for Candy Corn, and Candy Corn is the type of girl who when she gets an idea in her head, and when she formulates a plan to achieve that idea, well, then the game's over: it's happening. So at the top of the ridge, after getting the cold waters, we called ahead to the ostrich farm to check availability and hours. It was 3:30pm by then. Well, how far away are you, Jessica (the owner of the ostrich farm) asked. About 6 miles (technically, 5.6 miles) from Lake Hughes Road. Hmm, well it's 3-4 miles from there to the farm, and we like to close stuff up by 8pm--I don't know people's paces, but could you make it by then?
Oh yeah, we're going to make it.
I was in front again, setting the pace, and I picked it up. We ended up going the 5.6 miles into a little over two hours, which is a pretty blistering pace for me. According to Guthooks it was supposed to be downhill, but there ended up being long uphill inclines, which didn't helped. But I pushed it--which I shouldn't, just asking for injury--and we rushed down the mountain, covering those last few miles in a blur. I'm sure the scenery there was beautiful, I vaguely recall some interesting dry river beds at the bottom, but I didn't really see any of it. We got to the road and the girls grabbed a hitch, whereas I resolved to walk it to the ostrich farm, and ended up arriving about an hour later (it turns out Runts and Candy Corn's hitch had only taken them to Pine Canyon Road, so they had walked the second half themselves as well, and gotten there only a bit before me). So after a walk through town, my umbrella silver in the waning light, I got to the ostrich farm and made camp.
And that was the hike!
As I said, a very long day today. Going to take some ibuprofen in the evening, again (did so last night after the long day as well). I think these long days are ok as long as there's a recovery day afterward, but right now the schedule doesn't look to accommodate such a thing for at least the next couple days. I'll write about it when it comes, but it looks like long days for the forseeable future. That's fine, I just hope I don't get hurt! So far the body's been ok: the only strange thing has been a numbness in the pad beneath the big toe and second toe on my left foot. That's been there a couple days now, almost like the foot isn't thick enough there. I don't have a good solution for it, other than hoping eventually the body will realize that I'm not stopping, and get over it!
-- Bonquet Canyon Road > Spunky Edison Road > Memorial Bench > Green Valley Fire Station > Leona Divide Fire Road > Lake Hughes Road > Ostrich Farm
-- Talked some more with Candy Corn--her latest job was as a flight nurse--but usually it was Candy Corn and Runts talking, and me out in front. Which was fine: gave me the opportunity to get some singing in, if not entirely full throated.
-- As we were passing over Bonquet Reservoir, I saw a helicopter fly in. There are good helicopter sounds and bad helicopter sounds. Good helicopter sounds just fly overhead and are gone before you know it, just like helicopters in regular life. Bad helicopter sounds are ones that linger, meaning the helicopter is either search-and-rescue and trying to find someone and it'll keep circling and coming back, or it's an emergency of some sort and the helicopter is air-lifting someone out. In this case, it was bad helicopter sound: the helicopter appeared to land on the shores of the reservoir. (Which was odd: there's a road that leads to that reservoir--we slept next to it last night!) But I hope that whoever called for that chopper is now ok: I hate to see folks get hurt in the mountains and then need to call a chopper.
-- As we would drop into these valleys, and even in some valleys we wouldn't drop into, there would invariably be these small communities: a house or two here, all laid out along the main road that ran the valley, or even once a small community, surrounded by tall green trees. I wonder about these places, about what they're like. I'd like to walk through town, wave at folks as I go, but the chances for this are few. I will say that on the couple of occasions I've done this in the rough equivalent we have around the Santa Anas (very rough: the communities around the Santa Anas are much more populous and also much more commercial--usually farming), the people have always proven unexpectedly nice. I would wave at cars as they passed and they would always wave back, for example. I imagine it's similar out here, just there aren't enough people around to get a sufficient sample size!
-- And for those keeping track: I walked 2.8 additional miles of the road walk around the fire closure. That counts for, hmm, well, it should count towards something so I'm putting it down here!
-- We passed by a trail register at the water cache before the Green Valley Fire Station, and it was interesting to see all the folks ahead. Lots of names I recognized: Ru and Tahel (now going by "the green goblins"), Uno (and presumably Dylan too), Tina Burrita and Heather and J-Pro (now evidently joined by the mystical Jedi), even Jessica and Melanie. All a day or two ahead. The thing is, a day or two at this point is pretty far ahead: it's tough to close that distance, especially because all these folks are pretty strong hikers and are going strong to boot! So we'll see if I get to see them again, or if they'll remain perpetually aspirational!
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