Hannibal's Pacific Crest Trail Chronicle

I am definitely in the desert, in the summer, in the middle of a heatwave even by desert standards for the time of year. It has been well over 100 degrees the past couple of days, and if forecasters are to be believed could get as high as 115 before Wednesday, when the heat is supposed to break. What was really perverse was hiking in this heat, and for part of the trail, hearing the flow of water beneath me. This was not some kind of auditory mirage, rather, the Los Angeles aqueduct flowing down from the Sierra Nevada. Needless to say, I took refuge for a day in this town, in the air-conditioned comfort of a Motel 6 room.

In another week, I'll be in the Sierras, contending with what was an unusually high snow year there. What a difference a week will make.

The town of Mojave itself is essentially a big rest area, motels and fast-food restaurants, with a big parking lot for planes. Strange, but true. Apparently, if airlines find themselves with too many planes they park them here until they need them. This is the pride of Mojave along with the numerous wind turbines that dot the landscape, according to my conversations with a few locals. The people seem friendly enough, and very curious about life outside the desert, giving me a visitor-from-another-planet feeling.

I don't expect I will have the opportunity to blog again for at least a couple of weeks because of the remoteness of the Sierras, but when I do, I should have a lot to say. They are the crown jewels of this hike. Mt Whitney, the John Muir Trail (which coincides with the PCT for over 200 miles and is considered by many to be the best hiking trail in the world), Yosemite, and much more.

While I have another week of desert, there is much to look ahead to. Thanks for looking ahead with me.

Agua Dulce has been a town I have heard about since the earliest days of my Pacific Crest Trail research. It would seem to be a rather plain-looking ranching town, like many I am sure, in the canyons northeast of Los Angeles. What sets it apart is the home of Jeff and Donna Saufley. The Saufley residence is known among thru-hikers as Hiker Heaven, and very much deserves this name. The Saufley's live for this time of year, Memorial Day to about now, when the years' thru-hiker crop comes through town. They provide, and I am not exaggerating, cots for hikers to sleep on if the three bedrooms in the trailer and RV on the property are taken, showers, clean cotton clothes to wear while Donna washes our filthy hiking clothes, a TV (I was able to watch USA v. Italy in the World Cup), VCR, DVD, movies, a kitchen, patio with grill, lounge chairs, a vehicle for hikers to take to LA, or wherever to resupply, computers with wireless internet, and many, many other things, too many to mention. The USPS automatically delivers any hiker packages sent to the local branch, to the Saufleys. They do not request donations, though most hikers leave something. Jeff tells me that earlier this season there were 40 or 50 hikers here at one time! Hiker Heaven is an amazing oasis on the edge of the Mojave Desert and Jeff and Donna are two of the most generous people I have ever met. I stayed for two luxurious days.

Speaking of desert, only about two more weeks of it left before I get to the Sierra Nevadas.

A number of comments have accumulated since I began this endeavor, so I thought I would take this opportunity to respond to your questions. In no particular order...

Barb, Eric and Simon: I hope you had a wonderful honeymoon in Hawaii. Can't wait to hear all about it. As far as my socks go...I wash them infrequently, when I get a chance to do the rest of my laundry in town. Every week or so. Of course, because the desert is a sandy and dirty place, and my feet are pretty dirty anyway, clean socks don't stay that way for long.

Julie: Be patient, I will resume washing your socks as soon as I return. In fact, the thought of washing your socks and other unmentionables is one of the things that keep me going.

Sandy: The weather has been pretty good. It has rained once, and I woke up in a cloud once. Otherwise, very sunny and clear. There was a week with temperatures over 100 degrees up to 110, very hot, but temps have generally been cooler than normal, only about 90 or 95. I have a tarp I can set up and sleep under in inclement weather. I have only done this three times though. Most nights I sleep under the stars and what was until recently a waxing moon.

Shirley: No military issue items are used because of weight. I do use a poncho liner as a quilt when I am sleeping in a hot climate, but in the desert, where nighttime lows can be in the 40s I am grateful to have my down bag. As far as the picture of my new wife...I don't find it necessary to carry this because her image is seared into my mind. Isn't yours in Gordon's?

Gordon: Sorry buddy...your better half is going to ask you if her image is seared into your mind. Just say yes.

Granadaman: No camembert. This cheese is too soft, and would not survive as a solid very long. I do carry cheddar, however, because it lasts, believe it or not, 4 or 5 days in the backpack.

Yasmine and Anika: I do have a story. When I was in the town of Big Bear, I was sitting outside a supermarket eating a fudgsicle. There happened to be a 12 foot tall wood carving of a big bear nearby. A woman and her granddaughter were walking by when the woman said, "Say goodbye to the big bear". The girl, who was your age Anika, looks right at me and says, "Goodbye". It must be my furry face.

Pere: What motivates me? Despite the hardships (which may be too strong a word), this really is fun, interesting and a great adventure. It is a chance to experience a challenge, to see new places, to enjoy relative solitude, to contemplate without the distractions inherent in everyday life (an exercise typified by Thoreau and largely lost to our modern world), to truly get in great shape, to meet wonderful people on and off the trail. The rattlesnakes, desert flowers, cacti, mountains, glaciers, lava fields, trail towns, etc..., are the backdrop for this Experience.

Well, my computer time has all but expired. I can't wait to tell you about Hiker Heaven in Aqua Dulce in a week's time.

I am taking a short respite from the trail in this Southern California town that lives up to its name. Perched in the San Jacinto Mountains it is a small town obviously catering to tourists, set in a pinyon pine forest, surrounded by high peaks.

In contrast, most of my journey thus far has been through desert. Some of it bleak, as I had originally envisioned, but most, sublimely beautiful. The desert, at least this time of year, has many brightly colored flowers, a hundred varieties of cacti, and simultaneously, a starkness to the landscape that at times makes me feel as if I am a visitor in another world.

Some of the sights have been literally, breathtaking. On my very first day hiking north from the Mexican border I turned a corner to chance upon a large rattlesnake sunning himself mid-trail. I am unsure whether I saw him before I heard him, but there is, I assure you, no mistaking the intent of a rattlesnake's rattle and posture. "Danger, Stay Clear, I Can Hurt You." I had no trouble complying, bushwacking a wide arc around the serpent even as he slithered under some shrubs, away from me.

The effect of this experience lingered for a couple of days, as I expected to find a rattler around every turn. It was, thankfully, the only such encounter.

My thoughts while I hike, aside from being of family, friends and poisonous snakes (this is not a redundancy), are centered on water. While there has been a slightly higher than average rainfall in the desert this year, nevertheless, I may go 20 or 30 miles between springs or streams. In 100 degree heat, often without shade, this means carrying 5 or 6 liters of water at a time (making my lightweight pack not so light anymore). Occasionally, I will happen upon a water cache placed by "trail angels" for thirsty hikers. But, now that I am in town I will take hydration of a different sort, something cold with a slice of lime...