Sat., May 28 Miles today: 21.2 Total so far: 326.8

I was sound asleep this morning when Bill started talking at me, “Monty, wake up! It’s first light already–look at the sky!” Well, it was first light all right–but MOONrise, not SUN rise. I checked my watch. “It’s 3 o’clock in the morning–not 5 o’clock!” Bill still wanted to get up and start hiking, but I was too sleepy and tired to handle it. “How about 4:30?” I mumbled, and went back to sleep. We did get up at 4:45, and were ontrail by 5:00 am, hoping to do as many miles as we could, with Bill still limping terribly. However, I did persuade him to try taking a couple of Motrin (known as “Vitamin I” in trail lingo).

In early morning light, we passed a flat area where a number of backpackers were camped, but nobody was up. Finally we reached what we guessed must be the trail to the famous Hot Springs, but weren’t absolutely sure. With Bill in such a bad way, we decided that our best plan was to keep moving forward towards where he could rest at our next resupply.

Moonflowers? They were huge!

"Japanese garden" bridge over Deep Creek

We ate breakfast at the next pretty arched bridge over Deep Creek, and a short time after that, we had our first view of the end of the canyon and the SNOWY San Gabriel mountains beyond. Bill was still limping along so slowly that I told him to go on ahead while I looked at flowers–there were plenty of them, and some I had not seen very often.

The nearer we got to the end of the canyon, the more trash and worse–graffitti–we saw. Finally it got so bad that almost every decent-size rock had red, blue, or green graffitti. One, at least, had some redemptive value–sort of. I will say this about the PCT: when you are far enough out to be beyond the range of dayhikers, there’s NO trash, NO graffiti, NO shortcutting of switchbacks. Serious PCT hikers universally respect the trail!

One useless dam

Near the end of the canyon, where the PCT comes out on enormous Mojave River Forks Dam, we met a very friendly couple, who pointed out the PCT route in the distance up ahead, and even described it for us. Very encouraged, we strolled across the top of the huge dam which has been rendered totally useless by environmentalists trying to protect an endangered frog. Never mind the fact that there are creeks and arroyos all over Southern CA where the frog lives. Bill and I were joking about “I’ll bet that if they DID let water accumulate behind the dam (as they did for a few years) the frogs would probably LOVE it and multiply exceedingly, just like the caribou in Alaska with that nice warm oil pipeline!”

Deep Creek ford

Below the dam, the PCT has a ford of Deep Creek. I had been dreading this all day yesterday, as I watched the “Creek” get bigger and roarier. But it turned out to be a nice, sandybottomed, kneedeep splash-across. Whew!

The next challenge was the MANY miles of PCT going in and out of gullies on its way to Silverwood Lake. And it was hot–in the 90’s. What a joy it was to find a note tacked to a post that told of a PCT water cache up ahead, hidden behind a juniper tree!

"Vaya Con Dios" water cache

We gladly filled our water bottles from jugs labelled, “Vaya Con Dios” (Go with God) and felt blessed indeed! I left a thankyou note.

It was getting so hot that we were now walking with umbrellas. Bill was a little perkier, too–the Motrin is definitely helping. At one point there was supposed to be a quarter mile side trail down to a store (Drinks! Ice cream!) but when we got there, we found a sad little sign saying, “Don’t waste your time–store has been closed fo a year.” Rats! Oh well, keep on! Bill also discovered that when the trail goes DOWNhill, he can trot just as “comfortably” as he can walk. So our mileage started taking a turn for the better.

Our lunchtime goal was Grass Valley Creek. I was ahead of Bill, looked the rushing creek over and said to myself, “Rockhop crossing–no problem!” Well, I failed to factor in that the creek approach was deep soft sand, and a lot of the sand was caught in the treads of my shoe soles. Halfway across, on a slanted but perfectly dry rock, my foot slipped, and I was in instant freefall towards/into the creek. It was amazing how many thoughts flashed through my mind in midair! First was “Lord, help!” Second was “Please don’t let me get hurt!” Third was “Yikes, the camera!” (it was in my fanny pack). I tried to at least twist myself so the “camera side” of my hips would not go under water, and it worked! There I was in the rushing water, with the camera BARELY above the surface, and after some struggling with the strong current, I managed to get back on my feet and wade ashore unhurt, thanking God over and over again. Then I sat down and cried, ’cause I’m a girl and that’s what we do. Bill came along while I was still sniffling, but I managed to pull myself together and cook dinner. We took a little rest and pushed on. I kept giving Bill Motrin, and he’s able to walk with less pain, but still pathetically slowly compared to what he usually does.

We made it! Silverwood Lake!

The scenery was very interesting, and though Bill stopped often to rest his sore feet, we made steady progress all afternoon toward Silverwood Lake. Finally we reached its dam, and a stiff climb up a ridge gave us our first view of the lake! Hooray! We were beginning to wonder if we’d even make it there today!

Great place for a swim!

 The lake is huge and really pretty–lots of little sandy coves. I know lots of thruhikers swim there, but for us, it was 6:30 pm and really chilly and very windy, so we didn’t try swimming, but enjoyed our crackers-and-peanut butter supper with a magnificent lake view. Then we continued on till sunset, often pushing through grass taller than we were along the trail, and made a very comfortable camp for the night.

Friday, May 27     Miles today: 18.3       Total so far: 305.6

Bright side:  We crossed the 300 mile mark today!  Hooray!                                                                  

Downside:  Bill feels worse and worse.  It took from 5:00 am to 8:30 pm just to walk 18 miles.

Bright side: Walking so slowly gives lots more time to look at scenery (and there’s lots of it to look at!)

Downside: At this rate, we may run out of food before our next resupply.

Well, today we woke up to a cold 41 degree morning.  BRrrrr!  AND discovered that Bill’s watch had “died” during the night.  Getting new batteries will require a jeweler, and that won’t be for a LONG time!  Again, the beauty of this trail was a great consolation–awesome views everywhere we looked.  And the trail was easy going at first–good for poor Bill’s feet–but when we reached Holcomb Creek again, it got rough.

Where's the trail?

Last winter was pretty wild, with lots of rain and flooding.  Often we had a hard time figuring out where the trail went over all the boulders, logs and debris that were left behind near the creek.  But I’m happy to say that I finally did a good job of crossing on a log over the creek–I didn’t give up and “just wade across” this time!  

 And even better–on the other side, there were rock “ducks” to follow, instead of having to play the game of “where’s the trail now?”

Wrecked Deep Creek bridge

Once out of the Holcomb Creek zone, we were hiking through a forest fire burnout with gorgeous wildflowers, and looking forward to our first view of famous “Deep Creek Canyon.”  So when the trail finally started down, we were full of anticipation, but also worry, because we’d heard that the first bridge across the canyon was wrecked.  And sad but true–there it was, one end all wrenched and twisted by the winter floods. 

And I am ashamed to say that at this point I totally blew it.  Bill and I were standing and looking at the wrecked end of the bridge.  Bill said, “No problem–we can still use the bridge–just hold that one intact railing and sidestep across on the I-beam underneath.”  I was horrified and said, “No way would I do that–and the trail notes said to use the alternate.  I’m doing the alternate–it’s right there–cross any way you want, and I’ll see you on the other side.” 

I was looking at what to me seemed to be the obvious, VERY well-marked  (red posts!) alternate trail down.  Turning away from Bill, I walked easily down, crossed the river on steppingstones that were set up, and walked up to the other side of the bridge, all the while assuming that Bill was doing the macho “walk across the wrecked bridge” thing,  and I thought that when we met up, he’d be ready to tell me how easy it was and how silly of me to be scared.

But when I reached the end of the bridge–no Bill.  I looked and looked everywhere for him,  growing worried.  Finally I spotted him a ways down the river, soaking his feet, but I could not figure out how to get to where he was.  In the end, I had to scramble down a steep, rocky bank to reach him.   The discussion that ensued between us was not pretty.  I was mad because I could not find him and then had such a hard time getting to him.  He was mad because he felt I just “took off” on him, and he could not keep up with his sore, limping feet.  It turned out that he never even saw the alternate trail with its red posts, and instead bushwhacked down to the river, crossed on some rocks, and then sat down to wait, soaking his painful feet (lots of blisters and sores).

Once we calmed down, we realized that for the sake of Bill’s feet, we did need to take a break, so we had lunch and then spent 2 hours just sitting in the shade by the river.  Two fishermen came by, and we got to watch them at work–they were good!  I had already seen one fat trout go whizzing by, and the fisherguys managed to catch 3, very quickly!  They told us their secret was to sneak up on the creek so the trout could not see them. 

Dramatic Deep Creek gorge

Finally, at about 2:30, we climbed back up to the PCT and were on our way.  Wow!!  Deep Creek canyon is truly awesome!  We spent the entire rest of the day walking through spectacular scenery–roaring river cascades and huge cliffs.  The only bummer was that there were hardly any trees left because of the forest fire a few years back.  Sometimes the cliffs were so big and high that the only way the PCT could get through was by a bridge right against the cliff face.  If you are on the bridge and look down, it’s a LOOOOONG way down there! 

A real desert puffer-fish!

And then there were the places where let’s just say I focused by attention very hard on the TRAIL and tried not to look at the big dropoff next to it!  And that’s how I found what I jokingly called a “desert puffer-fish” (actually the dry shell of a wild cucumber fruit–it’s quite spiny and impressive!) .

We were eating our supper at a little side creek tumbling down into the canyon, when along came “Steady Dave”.  He was making for the famous Deep Creek Hot Springs up ahead.  We’d hoped to make it near there, too, but the sun went down and it was getting dark before we reached it.  Bill wanted to push on, but I am really bad at hiking at night, so I volunteered to scramble up onto a ridge above the trail to see if I could find a flat spot somewhere,  while Bill waited below with his sore feet.  I finally found a tiny spot just big enough for the two of us and we were glad to lie down for our night’s rest.  I had to spend some time talking to God about my carelessness and thoughtlessness that had led to our problems at the wrecked bridge.   At times like this I am MEGA-ly grateful that Jesus took all my suchlike garbage on Himself on the cross.  Before I met Him, I was a very proud and selfish person (though I outwardly looked “happy and nice”).  He has really changed me, and I am very grateful.