A Detour Undone … Partly (PCT)

Bottom line: Don’t let the moss grow under your feet.

As I had planned to do, I returned to the scene of the detour. Call me a purist, but I want to walk every foot, if not inch, of the PCT!

When first there in 2017, I'd bypassed the section of the PCT from Hwy 74 junction (mile marker 151.9) to Saddle Junction (mile marker 179.4) due to trail closure as a result of previous fire. Instead, I'd hiked the detour along Hwy 74. Most thru-hikers would've considered that sufficient, out of necessity and with their bigger goal in mind, moved along. But not me.

So, “Wrongway” Mark and I planned to hike this section, north to south, with one overnight camp somewhere along the way.

8/17/23, Day 0, “Meet You at the Bunkhouse” -

Mark and I met at the Idyllwild Bunkhouse. We dropped my car at the Hwy 74 and PCT junction, then had a good meal and beer at the Idyllwild Brewpub before early retirement for the night.

8/18/23, Day 1, “There’s A Storm A’comin’ ” -

Yay, Prim8 said as I hoisted my backpack.

Don’t start celebrating just yet, dude. We haven’t carried this much weight in a while.

We started up Devil’s Slide trail from Humber Park about 7AM, our hike plans already shifting per Hurricane Hillary’s projected arrival. We’d noted the good weather window the evening before at the Idyllwild Bunkhouse, with the major impact of the storm arriving Sunday. And blue sky above provided encouragement.

Though slow, we hiked the 2.5-mile Devil’s Slide Trail to the Saddle Junction, carrying additional water weight, about 3 liters worth, for our overnight. Plus, I carried a small stove with fuel and a “Bug Hut,” while Mark carried his two-person tent. My pack didn’t seem that heavy, but hauling the overnight gear had an immediate and cumulative effect.

Prim8 prepares to head south from Saddle Junction, mile marker 179.4

Our thoughts turned to completing the 27.5-mile hike to my car as early as possible, Saturday evening the latest.

"Wrongway" Mark takes a short break near Tahquitz Peak

Mostly clear sky allowed distant mountain and desert view. However, I paid the price of hiking in full sun by perspiring continuously.

Too hot, Prim8 complained.

This ain't no fun for me, either, fella.

Looking northward to Coachella Valley

Evidence of fire, the reasons for previous trail closures and my necessary detour, pervaded our views as we advanced south along the trail.

Prim8 takes in the view.

A number of fallen trees blocked the trail, requiring a cumbersome climb over or an awkward squat under, and at times an outright detour. To say the least, the trail’s poor condition slowed our progress. At one point, we missed a switchback turn and lost half an hour re-acquiring the trail. The combination of sun, fallen trees, trail brush, and the additional weight I carried beat me down.

Prim8 constantly complained of being miserable. Can’t say I blamed him.

Though slow, I slogged on towards Fobes Ranch Trail Junction, at mile-marker 166.5 and 12.9 miles south of Saddle Junction. We had expectations to reach my car before the heaviest portion of Hurricane Hillary would reach us. It came down to a matter of time. Could we out run … er, out hike Hillary?

Mark checked the weather forecast periodically. Early afternoon, he said, “The forecast moved the arrival from 1PM to 9AM morning tomorrow.”

“I guess, we’ll be hiking out in the rain,” I said.

“I don’t want to get caught in the lightening,” Mark said.

“Not a good idea,” I said.

Both of our phones squawked at the same time.

“An emergency alert, “ I noted. Riverside County had sent an emergency alert warning of potential flash flooding, high winds, heavy rain, etc, etc. “Whoa, I suppose it’s going to get serious,” I said.

“If we can make it to a campsite near Cedar Spring today, which is beyond the highest points south of Fobes Trail Junction, we can avoid the worst of the storm. From there it’s all downhill.”

I had my doubts about reaching Cedar Spring at mile-marker 161.0, another four-and-a-half miles beyond Fobes. “Yeah, nothing like being at 6,500 feet on a trail in a hurricane. We could start out earlier in the morning, too. You know, like o-dark-thirty.”

Try as I did, I couldn’t go any faster, however. Wanted to ... but couldn't. I paused numerous times to catch my breath and rest my legs. Despite my awareness of the effects of fatigue, I'd slipped and tripped a half-dozen times over the course of the day. My brain couldn’t will my body to do its bidding. As the hours passed, Mark’s goal of reaching the long downhill portion on the trail, beyond the 7,000-foot plus high point, melted away. By default, Fobes Trail Junction became our camp location for the night.

Snake! Prim8 yelled.

I’d expected to see a snake on the trail, so wasn’t surprised. It’s not poisonous, Prim8. The 18-incher checked us out for a moment before slithering away.

Shortly after, and with Fobes Trail Junction in sight down slope about two-hundred yards distance, Mark waited. As I approached, he said, “Stop there. Leave the trail and walk towards me.”

On alert, What? Prim8 said.

Maybe a rattler. I took a beeline towards Mark, then turned to look as he pointed at a coiled rattlesnake aside the trail in ambush mode.

Mark explained, “I spotted it as I walked up, and said, ‘Whoa.’ ”

Ooh, Prim8 whispered.

Yeah. And we could've walked right up to that guy without seeing him. At that point, exhausted and fixated on getting to Fobes Trail Junction, I had no energy to maintain focus on anything other than not tripping over my own feet.

Said rattler takes a slither from it's ambush position aside the trail

(Note the circular depression)

When we reached Fobes Trail Junction, we had run of the place. We set up Mark’s tent in a site snuggled between two trees. Scrub oaks I believed, though I wasn't sure what kind of trees they were ... not that I cared. They’d provide a welcomed wind break, of sorts, if it came to that.

Mark joked, "We could get hit by a falling branch in a strong wind. Wouldn't that be ironic?"

"Yeah, I suppose we could get clobbered," I replied. What are the odds?

Neither of us suggested moving to a different campsite, however. Too tired to even boil water for a freeze-dried dinner that I’d carried, we snacked lightly on dry food as we prepared for sleep.

An occasional wind rustled the nearby brush and trees. A few scattered rain drops fell. The temperature remained warmer than I expected at 6,000 feet as the sun set.

“Maybe, we can start early and get beyond the high points before the worst of the storm arrives,” Mark suggested.

“Are you going to set your phone alarm?” I said.

“No,” Mark said. “I’m a light sleeper.”

I didn’t have the energy to insist he do so. And besides, wanting to save my phone battery, I’d turned mine off. The colors of dusk that I could glimpse from under our tree-covered campsite encouraged me to take one last look before I tucked in for the night.

Ooh, pretty! Prim8 said.

Yeah, but don’t judge a hurricane by it’s looks, fella. I stood awed and humbled by the sight, and wondered what lay in store for Mark and I.

Hurricane Hillary's approach as seen from Fobes Junction, PCT

“Hey, Mark, you ought to check out the clouds,” I said as I clambered into the tent.

Mark didn’t budge ... didn’t even make a sound.

8/19/23 – Day 2, “Uncle Joe’s Moving Kinda Slow At the Junction” -

We spent the night without signs of a storm—no downpour, no gusting wind, no lightening, no thunder. In fact, eerily, the air remained calm and the temperature unusually warm.

Half-awake, I heard Mark rustling, then say, “It’s 6AM.”

We broke camp as quickly as possible, snacking on dried food as we packed up.

"I didn't expect it to be so warm last night. Didn't need to cover myself with my sleeping bag," I said. "Never would've guessed it." Perhaps, the unusual warm temperature wasn't a good omen.

"I didn't either," Mark said.

Headed south on the trail within thirty minutes, we started up the two-mile stretch with a one-thousand-foot elevation gain leading to Eagle Spring Trail Junction, hoping to beat the worst of what Hillary might dish, but figured we’d get deluged no matter what.

Bushwhacking through overgrown trail in warm, humid air didn’t help matters. Reminded of a jungle, I prayed for any slight breeze that might help cool me, though what air moved provided little relief. My pace remained slow, my legs not recovered from their previous day’s beating. And, as usual, Mark hiked on ahead.

Slogging my way up trail, I saw Mark’s approach as he descended..

“We’re not moving fast enough to get beyond the high points before the storm hits," Mark said. "It doesn't look good from farther up."

Not faster, Prim8 whined.

We won’t ... we can't, anyway. “If I try to go any faster, I’ll burn out altogether,” I replied to Mark.

“I think we should head down from Fobes Trail Junction to lower elevation. It’s better to bail now, and live to hike another day. We can always return for a day hike to complete this section,” he said.

Yes, tired, Prim8 said.

I agree, fella. Mark had me at we’re not moving fast enough. “Okay,” I said. I didn’t have a counter argument in me. Knew he was correct.

We descended to the saddle at Fobes Trail Junction, then turned toward Hwy 74 on the shortest, quickest descent route available to us.

Once on the dirt of Fobes Ranch Road, some two-and-a-half miles hike from the PCT, and per our agreement, Mark took my car keys. The plan? He'd hike ahead, then drop his pack at some point where I would wait for his return in my car.

Stop, Prim8 insisted.

No, we need to keep moving. We’ll get there … eventually.

Long before I reached Hwy 74 or Mark’s pack, however, a pickup pulled alongside and the driver offered me a lift.

Yay, Prim8 said.

I accepted with gratitude. Trail angels still exist, guy.

Maybe, a mile farther down the bumpy and rutted dirt road, she stopped for Mark, then dropped us at my car. The three of us chatted a few minutes, before she headed on to Anza. In the meantime, she'd mentioned Mark and I should consider grabbing a bite at the Paradise Cafe. I figured she thought I was on my last leg, though I couldn’t have argued any differently.

After she’d pulled away, I said to Mark, “Yeah, maybe we could get breakfast or lunch at the Paradise. What time is it?”

“9:30,” he said.

“Then, breakfast it is,” I proclaimed.

I consumed a fantastic three-egg omelet, probably, the best I’ve ever had!

Though the sky's overcast looked ominous, Mark and I drove away from the Paradise Cafe well ahead of Hurricane Hillary’s fury.

I shall return to hike the section of the PCT from Fobes Trail Junction to Hwy 74, if for no other reason than stubbornness.

Encounter at Hadrian's Wall (Award Winning!)

I'm thrilled to announce that my story "Encounter at Hadrian's Wall" received a Solas Award from Traveler's Tales for this year.

As a result, they may publish my story in some fashion at some point (fingers crossed). At the very least, I'm in contention to be included in an anthology later this year. They'll let me know as soon as they make those determinations . . . and you can bet I'll let you know when I get word of any publication!

In the meantime, I'm on hold in the above regards, so can't post any links nor post my story otherwise, until they've made their decisions. I can post some photos, however.

My story follows my wallow in the deep history of Hadrian's Wall, and including the more recent developments along it, as well as the beauty of English countryside.

One morning, early in my trek, I came upon this roadside

restaurant, where I enjoyed a great English-style breakfast.

Here I am at the highest point along Hadrian's Wall Path, 345 meters.

A section of the ruins of Hadrian's Wall somewhere midway across England.

The trail path sign at the western terminus, where I

completed my trek from England's east coast.

Bottom line: My blisters were worth it! Keep on trekking and walk in beauty.

A Missing Link Completed (PCT)

Bottom line: I like to tidy up.

10/4/22, Day 0, “The Rendezvous”-

“Wrong-way” Mark and I met at Cajon Pass Inn, rehashed our trip’s hike plans over dinner, then settled into our respective motel rooms early in preparation for tomorrow.

We wanted to backtrack on the PCT and hike a section skipped earlier this year due to snow conditions. Though I’m not a purist, by any means, I’d told Mark I preferred to hike every mile of the PCT, within reason, to which he concurred, as we have the opportunity. Consider it a personal challenge, and paint me stubborn and a glutton for punishment. Most through-hikers, taking one shot at hiking the entire trail, choose one direction and “go for it.” However, many skip portions due to trail closures and weather conditions.

10/5/22, Day 1, “Southbound, Ho”-

Mark and I settled on a southbound hike along today’s section, which would provide us a predominately downhill experience. Who would argue?

After a McDonald’s take-out breakfast at 5:45AM, which provided my stomach something with which to occupy itself, we dropped Mark’s car on the rough, unpaved road 3N29, about one mile downhill from its junction with the PCT. From there we drove my car back through Wrightwood, continued up Hwy 2 to Inspiration Point where we turned left onto 3N26, then proceeded the six miles to Guffy Campground.

Under clear sky, temperature somewhere in the mid-60s, we enjoyed a comfortable start at 7:55AM.

Northward view towards the Mojave Desert environs.

Panoramic views came and went along the route. Thankfully, my feet tolerated the hike, though my sweat-fest began, spurred on by the rising temperature.

During a brief pause, Prim8 looks at the terrain ahead.

The ascent of Mt Baden-Powell awaiting us.

We completed our day’s objective, arriving at my car at 1:45PM.

Driving my car to Mark’s, we noted the air temperature to be 84 degrees. Meanwhile, I noted my feet and lower back complained, though both more as a nuisance than a hindrance.

So that I could purchase sunscreen, Mark and I drove our vehicles to Mountain Hardware in Wrightwood, the geographic center of town I’d estimate. By the time we'd arrived at the store, my leg muscles had stiffened, which didn't surprise me. Over the years, I've grown accustomed to the hiking aftermath of aches and pains.

In addition to sunscreen, I selected a tube of GU lime-flavored electrolyte tabs as we browsed. FYI, GU produces a range of edible supplements, including energy gel packs. I recommend the vanilla bean gel packs for a quick trail pick-me-up or after dinner dessert for those sugar-rush cravings. Yum!

"Wrong-way" weighs the utility of this culinary cookbook.

Our hike covered 16.7 miles, from mile-markers 364.4 to 347.3 (as measured northbound).

10/6/22, Day 2, “Adapt and overcome”-

Mark and I enjoyed a sit-down breakfast at the Village Grind & Wine Cellar in Wrightwood before we navigated the winding turns up Hwy 2 past Inspiration Point and onto Vincent Gap.

I parked my car in the paved parking area at the highway junction, and after a dusty, bumpy ride of six miles on the partially paved road, designated 3N26, to Guffy Campground, we left Mark’s car at 8:10AM.

The ~10-mile trail to my parked car provided continued panoramic views of the Mojave plains to the north.

Looking north towards the Mojave Desert plains.

The cool temperature again afforded us pleasant hiking conditions. The weather remained good, and my feet offered no major hindrance. Hour after hour we plodded onward, mostly down grade.

Afterward, like the day before, my car’s temperature gauge crept upward, though now it continued to climb as we crawled towards Guffy Campground. I speculated as to the cause, since I’d recently had a general maintenance done. Regardless, when the gauge neared the red zone and water vapor escaped from under the hood, we knew something was amiss. After I pulled over to access the problem and raised the hood, we could see that the engine was overheating. Steam hissed from the hose which was disconnected from the overflow reservoir.

No! Prim8 said.

We’ll just need to deal with it, guy. Adapt and overcome.

We continued a short distance, before the engine heated to the critical level again. Then, Mark volunteered to hike the remaining distance to his vehicle, perhaps three miles, providing me the opportunity to coax my car back to the junction at Hwy 2. If I could get my car there, I’d wait for Mark . . . or continue on into Wrightwood, depending on my assessment of the situation. Along the way, by chance, I paused at an overlook where I got internet and phone connection. I phoned Wrighwood Automotive Services and learned they’d be open until 5PM, and could probably do the necessary repair work the next day.

Yippee! Prim8 squealed.

Don’t hold your breath just yet, guy, I warned.

I also discovered a tow truck would need to come from Hesperia or Phelan.

Crap. No way a tow truck will get my car to Wrightwood by 5PM today.

I limped out to the Hwy 2 junction and waited. Once again, I had no phone service.

Again? Prim8 said.

Yep. No real surprise in these mountains.

I debated my next move. Drive my car to Wrightwood, all downhill? Wait for Mark? Arrange a tow? A tow would surely delay repairs and our trip schedule. Calculating that the downhill drive to Wrightwood wouldn’t be fatal for my car’s engine, I proceeded. I got my car to the repair shop at about 3:30PM without overheating, then left it in their hands to diagnosis the situation.

All the while I mulled various manners of repair outcomes intertwined with Mark’s and my hiking trip. When would my car be available to me again? Could we maintain our hike schedule or even complete our plans?

Previously, we'd planned to hike an additional section today from Islip Saddle, the 3rd trail crossing of Hwy 2 at mile-marker 386.0 to the 4th trail crossing of Hwy 2 at 389.3. Without a second car, but willing to hump the additional distance, we committed to hiking it anyway, by waking along Hwy 2 back to Mark’s car.

We left his car in the Islip Saddle parking lot at 4PM and made it to the 4th trail crossing of Hwy 2 at 6:15PM.

After the repair shop had closed, I arranged, via text messaging with Tom, one of their staff, for replacement of the water pump and timing belt. A relief to me, Tom indicated that the necessary repairs could likely be completed the next day. I gave the go-ahead for the recommended repairs.

At least, I could rest easier knowing my car would be fixed and I’d have it back by Saturday morning, latest, unless another problem was discovered. But down one car, Mark and I would need to “adapt and overcome” in order to salvage our original hiking schedule plans.

With the two sections hiked today, we notched an additional 12.7 miles to our trip hiking so far.

10/7/22, Day 3, “A Trail Angel Exercises Her Wings”-

Straight-away after breakfast and wanting to verify my car’s repair plan, Mark and I dropped by the auto repair shop.

Once I’d satisfied myself regarding the repair plan, Mark and I asked about potential rides to Hwy 2 junctions along the trail. All fingers pointed to the local hardware, which served as the town’s PCT hikers’ hub and where I was provided numerous trail angel phone numbers. First angel I phoned, Carol S, agreed to provide a shuttle ride for Mark and I from Islip Saddle to Vincent Gap.

Thanks to her assistance, hope flourished that we could maintain our trip schedule after all.

We bade goodbye to Carol at the Vincent Gap parking lot, providing her a pay-it-forward recompense for her time and trouble. Then, Mark and I started up Mt Baden-Powell’s flank at 10:45AM. Good weather, temperatures in 60’s-70’s, prevailed as we traversed switchbacks in the shade of conifers and scattered clouds.

A wizened trail-ridge local.

With steady progress along the sixteen-mile length of trail, we arrived at Mark’s car at 5PM.

Immediately, we proceeded to the auto repair shop in Wrightwood, arriving ~5:30P. Viola, my car repairs had been completed, so I reclaimed my car.

Yippee! Prim8 exclaimed.

Yeah, good fortune shines upon us, I replied.

My beer and sandwich at the Wrightwood Brew Company tasted especially delicious.

10/8/22, Day 4, “Those Frog Legs Ain’t For Eatin’”-

Northbound again, we got a 10AM start from mile-marker 389.3, Eagles Roost Picnic Area. Only a few yards off Hwy 2, we studied the detour sign directing that hikers use the alternate trail which by-passed the Mountain Yellow-legged Frog habitat. Hadn’t noticed that detour on the half-mile notes, but, sure enough, it was right there in print.

Yellow-legged frogs? Prim8 wondered.

Never heard of ‘em, fella, I said.

I surely didn’t want to step on a remaining specimen of endangered frog, yellow-legs or no, nor did Mark, so we followed the alternate route. Nor did we want to face a possible fine by ignoring the detour. The alternate route led us along Hwy 2, then via Buckhorn Campground along Burkhart Trail for 2.2 miles to rejoin the PCT.

At that juncture of trail we encountered signs warning of burn and snag hazards.

When Prim8 looked at the first sign, he asked, Loose and arm or leg?

Don't worry. That's referring to tree limbs, I said.

Mark passes warning signs.

I perspired profusely despite continued cooler temperatures, while clouds in the distance suggested possible rain. Humidity wasn’t doing me any favors, I guess.

We weren't snagged along the route, though our unplanned detour added ~1.5 miles to today’s overall distance. Nevertheless, we finished at 4:35PM for 13.9 miles of trail distance from mile-marker 389.3 to 403.1.

1/9/22, Day 5, “A Minor Victory”-

From Mark’s car at Three Points Trailhead at Hwy 2, mile-marker 403.1, we proceeded northbound at 8:30AM.

Partial cloud cover helped keep temperatures mild throughout the day. Welcomed cooling breezes, helped reduce, though didn’t prevent, my sweating. More than once I noted the accumulated salt-deposit build up on my hat and shirt.

As the day wore on, my feet complained with every step and my lower back ached, but I knew each step brought me closer to my car. The trail seemed to drag on, particularly after my car came into view in the distance.

Tiny, Prim8 noted.

“It’s the size of a flea,” I said to Mark.

Hurry up! Prim8 complained.

Keep putting one in front of the other, dude.

Rain fell over nearby mountains while thunder clapped as we finished another 15.7 miles of trail in dry conditions.

“We gained 1,900-foot-plus elevation for the day overall,” Mark reported.

Knackered, I said, “Certainly felt like it to me.”

Our tally this trip: mile-marker 347.3 (Swarthout Canyon Road) to 418.6 (Mill Creek Fire Station), covered the 71.3 miles by-passed earlier this year due to snow conditions.

Technically, I’ve hiked the PCT from the Mexican border to Hwy 58 junction at Tehachapi Pass, mile-marker 566.4. Though in 2017 I walked the detour route along Hwy 74 from Paradise Valley Cafe junction to Saddle Junction above Idllywild, mile-markers 151.9 to 179.4, I plan to hike that section of trail, which has since reopened.

Walk in beauty.