Day 43: Mile 549.0 - 558.5
It had been a bit breezy when I set up camp yesterday afternoon, but became positively windy in the night. But that was ok: I went through wind at Scissors Crossing back in the first week, so I'm used to it and slept well, regardless of the occasional rocking of the tent. In the morning, that wind resulted in a fine silt dusting everything inside the tent. But that was ok too: today we're going into town!
Today was also another shorter day, coming in at 9.5 miles. There are two ways into Tehachapi, the next town: go in at Willow Springs Road (mile 558) or go in at Interstate 58 (mile 566). Evidently, it's much easier to get a hitch into town on Willow Springs Road, so that was the plan. It also shaves off 8 miles from the day--we'll have to do those 8 miles eventually, but still: not now.
We broke camp fairly late, and me later than Runts, who got started ahead of me. Given the shorter distance today, and going into town, I wasn't in any hurry, and lingered a lot, snapping shots that probably won't come out. The hike itself was "downhill" according to Guthooks, but as always, downhill isn't all downhill: there are some uphills too, but usually short. And the trail introduced some "moguls", bits where it seems to undulate up and down, almost like a sine wave with a period of around 5 footsteps. I'm curious as to how such things form, admittedly mostly to better avoid that mechanism activating in future when maintaining trails!
But the trail descended down the south side of what was probably called Oak Creek Canyon (don't know the specific name of the canyon, but evidently Oak Creek is down there somewhere). Across the canyon, there were a few peaks, according to the map, Covington Mountain, Double Mountain, and Tehachapi Mountain. One was distinguished by the silver antenna atop it. I remember descending out of Angeles National Forest, looking across the desert and seeing Mount Tehachapi, a tall shadowy peak so many miles away, but now that I was passing it, it looked like just another mounded hill, not that intimidating and even climbable.
Not that I wanted to climb it, mind you, just that it could be climbed on a day-hike-ish foray.
The trail took its time descending the south side, wandering back and forth, first in small curves in and out of the little hills, then larger curves as it navigated the widening canyon channels. At one point, it dropped down through what looked like a burn area, the white-dry trunks of fallen trees strewn across the ground, some still bearing black burns. As it continued to drop, the trail came to another wind farm, the tall blades swinging away, although this time, thankfully, the trail mostly stuck to the leeward side of the ridge, avoiding the likely-battered windward side. (Although I hear we don't get so lucky in the next section; still: not now.) Finally, at the very end it drops down into Oak Creek itself and meets Willow Springs Road.
I had been chasing Runts all day, and finally caught sight of her in the wind farm, as she walked down a switchback. Lost her, saw her, the finally caught up with her coming around a corner. She was stopped, with her (nice) camera in hand (Runts was an art major, so even though photography wasn't her specific medium, she still does a lot of it) (and yes, I have picked her brain about photography, don't you worry!). I thought she was grabbing a shot of maybe a windmill, maybe with the sun behind it, but turn the corner, and no, she was taking a picture of a horse with a foal! Standing and sitting, respectively, right on the trail! Hmm, I had seen fresh evidence of horse earlier on, but I thought it had been a rider. Turns out it was a wild mustang, black but in a deep-dark coffee sort of way. Runts advised going around, so we climbed up the slope above the trail, and from that vantage we saw there was actually a whole herd back there, maybe a handful of adults, and a foal or two or three. I followed Runts' lead here--she *owns* a horse, after all!--but by her estimate, they were pretty chill. We continued walking the slope up above the trail until we passed them, then I turned around to take a few parting shots, and we continued on, now together, finishing the descent down into Oak Creek, and eventually coming to Willow Springs Road.
We caught a hitch at Willow Springs Road into town with Angel (a trail angel named Angel?--sure!), who works among the wind farms doing wildlife conservation. She had a great conversation with Runts--they have a love of animals in common, Angel even knew of the mustangs, noted that there's one foal that will come her to her and nudge her (that one shouldn't be left alone, she said)--and they also discussed good restaurants in Tehachapi (in classic hiker fashion, Runts had been talking about restaurants for the past couple days, so I joked that, with all the extra suggestions, she was running out of meals!). After a short cheerful drive, she dropped us off at the hotel in downtown Tehachapi, just down from the main drag.
I always say that every day on the trail something goes dramatically wrong, but it's still amazing nonetheless. And probably I don't mention the "dramatically wrong" bit in these posts. Well. Today I got to the hotel in Tehachapi, went to the desk. Do you have a reservation, asked the lady at the counter. Yep, I said, and I gave my name. I don't have a registration under that name, she said. I showed her my confirmation email. She tried some confirmation numbers, no dice. She even called and checked with the other Best Western in town (which is right next door): they didn't have me either. Hmm. I had booked the reservation via phone at Hikertown, so I called up the reservation company. They looked it up. That reservation has been canceled, they told me. Why, I asked, because I certainly didn't ask to cancel it. They didn't have a good answer for that. Were you planning on telling me about this at some time?, I asked, because I don't see an email about that in my inbox. Sure, they said, and sent me the cancellation email right there. So I'm standing in the lobby of a hotel, after being told I don't have a reservation that I reserved through you, and you send me the email telling me my reservation has been canceled, right now? Well, we'll refund you the cost of the hotel, they said--I should hope so seeing as how you canceled it! At this point, I gave up with the reservation company and asked the front desk if they had a room available for two nights. They only had one room left for tonight and it was a smoking room, but I took it (and yep, on stepping in here, it's *definitely* a smoking room--even after leaving the window open all afternoon, turning the fan on, and picking up an air freshner, yep, it's *definitely* a smoking room), and will have to transfer to another room tomorrow night. But reservations.com has now officially lost my business: if there's any way to avoid them, I will, even if it's more expensive. (Oh, and they charged me $20 for their services--which was booking by phone and then canceling on me without telling me--but, y'know what, I'm going to let that stand: they can have their $20, it just reminds me even more to never do business with them again.) Yes, I understand that justice demands mercy and forgiveness, but right now all I have for reservations.com is a cold hard shoulder. So that's my "dramatically wrong" for today.
But this snafu notwithstanding, the rest of the day was good. We met up with Candy Corn who had got in yesterday, stored our bags in her room while waiting for check-in at 3pm, went down to the street to the German Bakery to get food. Matt was also checking in here (transferring from another hotel), so he joined us. We ate, lounged, chatted trail, then checked in. After that, I headed out on my own, hit the post office, then the Home Depot, then a brewery where I reunited with Runts and Matt, then to the popular pizza place in town for dinner, where we met up with Candy Corn again and also two friends of hers from Germany. Then a late night laundry run, then to bed! If that sounds like it went by fast, it did in real life too. And that was the day!
-- Mile 549 Bar and Grill > Wind Farm > Willow Springs > Tehachapi
-- Today I met Magic Man, the trail angel, at Willow Springs Road. Standing out behind his pickup truck, he offered us drinks and cookies; Runts took a cold Coke, I got a cold Gatorade, and we both got cookies. Talking to him a little, it seems that Magic Man actually travels up the trail with the bubble: he would be here for another couple of days, then switch up to Kennedy Meadows and hang out there for a while. This way, there's a chance he gets to see the same people again; in some years, he's seen the same people at up to 6 different spots, watching some stay the same, but some change a lot over the course of the trail as they toughen up and get things together. We didn't talk much, but he did give us advice on how to get a hitch: see that guardrail over there? Just past that's a spot where folks can pull over, so stand at the guardrail and stick out your thumb. Haven't seen anybody not get a hitch, and the longest wait was probably about 15 minutes. His advice was good--we got a hitch in less than 2 minutes by my watch. Maybe we'll see him again, although likely not in Kennedy Meadows (his schedule sounded like he'd be departing before we could arrive), and if so, I should probably take more time: Magic Man is more the slow, measured type, and he looks intimdating: his figure cuts a square, between his sweatshirt (in *this* heat?--well, I guess it was windy too) and shorts that reveal two strong upper legs that reminded me of Mr. Rogers (no, not that Mr. Rogers, the Mr. Rogers who taught World History in high school and was the swim coach: that man had thighs as wide as his head!).
-- Today I met Hemp, on the walk over to the post office. I was in a bit of a hurry--the post office was closing soon--but as I passed a bus stop he motioned me over and so I stood and talked to him for a while. Now, straight up: I think Hemp was a bit inebriated, so his information is only so reliable. But he asked if I was on the trail (yes), going south or north (north--it's a bit early for the southbounders, I told him). He was taking a kipper from a bottle, asked me if I wanted some, I said no, he asked, do you drink?, I said no, and he said, yeah, you look like you don't drink. (Huh, I didn't know that was a look.) Then he went in on his situation. Turns out he was waiting for the bus to take him to Las Vegas: his sister was moving and he was going to help her out. That's very honorable of you, I said, and that took him a bit by surprise. I hate Las Vegas, he said, I don't want to go. Helping your sister, is that the right thing to do?, I asked. He kind of shook his head yes. Then you gotta do it, she's family, I said. He seem resigned, complained that the bus wouldn't be here until 6am next morning, but I think he'll end up going. And he gave me advice: he said hockey jerseys (like the one he was wearing) are great because they're warm in the cold and cool in the heat, and (more immediately) he said that to get to the post office, don't walk all the way around to cross the railroad tracks, but that there's a gate up ahead, go through that and cross the tracks there. And he was right, at least on the second count--I haven't bought a hockey jersey yet.
-- Incidentally, when I mentioned Hemp to Matt and Runts, they said that they had seen him too, did knuckles, but hadn't spoken to him. If you stop to talk to every guy at a bus stop, Matt warned. Yeah, but he told me about the shortcut over the train tracks, I countered. Matt had to concede that point. I still don't think he's going to take up talking to random dudes at bus stops though!
-- At the brewery, since I don't drink, I avoided the bar and instead went up to their standing freezer to look at the selection. The bartender came up and asked me if she could help with anything. Do you have anything non-alcoholic, I asked, peering into the glass doors. No, she said, those--all the cans in the freezer--are alcoholic. But we have juice boxes. That's ok, I said, I'll just get water then. Over there, at the dispenser, she said. I got my water, went back to the table, and Matt was grinning. That was the most passive-aggressive thing, he said. You can have a juice box, he repeated, as if to a kid. I hadn't gotten that impression myself, but I'm also not good at reading people. But that branched off into a whole discussion of capri suns--which are good, I had a couple with W back at Vincent Gap and even he eventually conceded they were good--and Runts noted that you can freeze capri suns and they cut them open and eat them as slushies, and Matt said he'd never even thought of that, and a conversation that started with my evident embarrassment became a whole other thing. Heck, at that point, maybe I *should* have gotten the juice box after all!
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