Hikertown is home to a whole flock of banty chickens, including several roosters, who started crowing enthusiastically around 4 am!  By 5:30, most of the hikers (including us) were in the hiker lounge eating breakfast that included “coffee from New York City” sent by one hiker’s girlfriend.  (“What was she thinking?” he puzzled.  “What am I supposed to do with a POUND of coffee on the trail?”  We all told him, “Don’t worry–we’ll take care of it!”)  But unknown to me,  Bill was not feeling well.  He did not feel like eating, and  had to just choke down his breakfast.

After that, we spent till almost 1 pm doing the notorious “Aqueduct Walk”.  It was not hot. It was not windy.  It was COLD, and even rained a bit!   There were rain clouds and “walls” of rain all around us, up in the Liebres to the right and the Tehachapis to the left.   I hiked along the aqueduct, eyeing the clouds and rain, thinking “Oh fun–we’ll be up IN there tonight!”   As far as the aqueduct walk itself, I know a lot of people enjoy grumping about it, but why waste your time being a grouch?   I love the sweeping views, the weird little houses, the quirky people, and the wildflowers along the way.   And today, when the clouds broke up a bit, there were beautiful sunbeams set off by the dark clouds behind them.

By lunchtime, we’d reached Cottonwood Creek trail camp, and I got out the stove to cook a hot meal.  But Bill would not eat.   He said he felt nauseous.   My heart just sank.   Could this be a rerun of what we went through in 2005, starting already?   I was worried.  Other hikers that we’d passed along the way caught up with us as we were resting, and they also stopped to eat.

And then as we turned north, into the Tehachapi Mtns. a wonderful thing happened.  The clouds began to lift,  break up, and float away.  And so we wound our way up and up into those amazing mountains.  Along the way we met a ranch hand in a pickup truck and talked to him a bit.  He was impressed by all the hikers and said he’d like to do the PCT himself! 

In 2005, it was tricky trying to follow the PCT in the Tehachapis, and we actually were sort of lost for a little while, because there were so many motocross trails everywhere.  Not this time!  The PCT is well-marked with sturdy posts.  It was a very cold afternoon, and Bill was not able to hike as fast as he usually does, but by suppertime we’d reached Tylerhorse Canyon.  Again, Bill felt too nauseous to eat, so I sat there munching away, when suddenly he leaped up and said, “I’m getting too cold just sitting here.  I’ve got to keep on hiking.”  I was afraid to let him go ahead by himself, because many times he doesn’t notice when the PCT goes off one way and some side trail goes another way, and he ends up heading down the side trail till I call to him.  So I also leaped up, left my unfinished crackers and cheese to the ground squirrels, and off we went again. 

Shortly after that, we came to a wonderful section of trail where it was obvious that the trail gorillas just outdid themselves!  Wow!  In 2005, this stretch was basically a falling-down scratch across a steep, crumbling hillside.  Now it’s practically a fire road!  Views of the Antelope Valley were awesome, but the higher we went, the stronger the wind.  Brrrrr!  We usually start looking for a place to camp after 7 pm, but at 6:30, I found a really nice sheltered dell, out of the wind, and suggested we might camp there.  Bill was obviously very tired.

But Bill said no, because we were still up very high, and he wanted to camp down lower, in Gamble Canyon.  So we followed the many long switchbacks down and found that the canyon was basically a big wind tunnel for a howling, bitterly cold wind.  The thought of turning around and climbing back up all those switchbacks to the sheltered spot was just too much.  So all we could do was hunker down as best we could in a dry hollow.  Bill was obviously feeling very ill, but we still rigged the tarp because the clouds were reassembling and looked ominous.   We could not use our stakes to set it up, since the ground was all loose sand.  Instead, we tied the tarp guy lines to rocks we’d found, then Bill collapsed into his sleeping bag, very miserable.   Needless to say, I prayed like crazy that he will feel better tomorrow.

Walk to Lórien: Walking Southwest in low mountains