Just going for a walk

After the long day yesterday, today was supposed to be an easier day. Just 15 miles, and the terrain was positively cruise-y (as Dylan puts it), just rolling hills, winding up and down and side to side. The sort of trail where you look out over a landscape of undulating bumps and curves, yellowed by grass and greened by brush, and you know there must be a route through it, even if you can't see or imagine how it would go. But there wasn't anything exceptionally steep, no big climbs or sharp descents, just rolling along. And the weather wasn't bad either: I didn't feel it was too hot, sort of a late-SoCal-spring heat in the morning, progressing to a mid-SoCal-summer heat in the afternoon, but cut by a lot of cool breezes throughout the day. But even with all those advantages, the day ended up being slow going. In fact, this was the first day my legs started feeling it: strain has started to appear in my back knee tendons (a classic ailment), and in general my leg muscles

Finally, on Day 3, we left the mountains. Starting the AZT with Miller Peak would have been akin to starting the PCT with San Jacinto: a tall mountain right at the outset. I joked with Dylan and Works Hard that they should have negotiated with Mexico and started the trail about 20 miles into our southern neighbor: that would have given some time to hike the flat plains out there before hitting the ascents. So it's a steep introduction to the trail but, today, we finally moved out of the mountains and into the rolling hills beneath. After a cold night--Works Hard and Dylan, who are cowboy camping, both remarked that it was as cold as the first night, even though we were a couple thousand feet lower!--we all broke campat different times today, with Works Hard first out the gate, then me, then Dylan. Which meant hiking the first part of the day alone. The trail continued along Scotia Canyon, following alongside the creek and continuing to cross it, sometimes with water, sometimes with

So last night I went to sleep with a slight headache--which I tamped down with some ibuprofen--and more fatigue than I expected. And walking along today I realized something: hey, we're at 8000 feet, going to 9000 feet. We're pretty high up! And this lack of strength, and this sucking wind: this is what happens whenever I go from sea level to Tahoe (a trip I used to make every summer) and hike up to Lake Aloha, say. It's not necessarily that I'm out of shape (although, honestly, I kinda am), there's elevation to consider as well, and we're pretty high up for my Orange County red blood cells. So that's why I'm moving so slow, and feeling the fatigue in my legs! (Although, curiously, not in my lungs--which I take as a Good Sign, I'd rather be muscle than breath limited). Which is all to explain why I was so slow at the beginning of today! From where we camped, the trail continued upward, heading towards 9000 feet and Miller Peak. It began in desert cha

Right now, as I write this, the moon is so bright! It rose a huge thing, over the ridge as we hiked a contour at sunset, full and round: I swear I could see the dark splotches of its craters, arranged in that off-kilter pattern. As it rose, for a spell it was occluded by the wisps of cloud, rendered a diffuse glow, but then it rose above, and the clouds cleared below, and now my tent is bright enough to see in the "dark". Dylan, cowboy camping just over there, might even have problems with it being *too* bright: I can foresee it being hard to sleep!  We didn't accomplish the miles we had hoped to today--the Plan had called for 10--only getting to Mile 3.9. But add to that the 2.4 miles up Joe's Canyon Trail to even get to the AZT, then heading southbound along the AZT from the junction to tag the border, then coming back up, and that's another 3.4 miles to bring the total to 7.3. Which isn't bad, seeing as we started around 2:30pm this afternoon! And even with

So at the beginning of March, I get this text from Dylan (from the PCT). I had recently sent him a text about this new photography YouTube channel I had found that had some good explanations of how cameras and composition and photography worked. And he replied "thanks for the videos they look pretty good", "how are you doing", and "hey I'm doing the Arizona Trail in a month would you be interested in joining me?" Wait, run that last one by me again? Because it turns out the Arizona Trail (AZT) is on my To-Do list of hikes. Mostly because it's in the desert: likely it's a result of coming up hiking in southern California, but I find I rather enjoy the desert. Maybe it's the expansive views and being able to see for miles, maybe it's the stillness and quiet, maybe it's the fact that the desert is honest. It is what it is--hot, exposed, dry, tough--and it doesn't try to be anything else. The desert doesn't promise to be easy, i

So at the beginning of March, I get this text from Dylan (from the PCT). I had recently sent him a text about this new photography YouTube channel I had found that had some good explanations of how cameras and composition and photography worked. And he replied "thanks for the videos they look pretty good", "how are you doing", and "hey I'm doing the Arizona Trail in a month would you be interested in joining me?" Wait, run that last one by me again? Because it turns out the Arizona Trail (AZT) is on my To-Do list of hikes. Mostly because it's in the desert: likely it's a result of coming up hiking in southern California, but I find I rather enjoy the desert. Maybe it's the expansive views and being able to see for miles, maybe it's the stillness and quiet, maybe it's the fact that the desert is honest. It is what it is--hot, exposed, dry, tough--and it doesn't try to be anything else. The desert doesn't promise to be easy, i