Mile 102 to 163 – Anza-Borrego to San Jacinto (April 10 to 14)

Back in Palm Springs at Tri and Asher’s place to recoup one more time before continuing north on the trail from mile 209 at I-10/San Gorgonio Pass, a 46 mile skip around the still-snow-hazardous high country of the San Jacinto range. My descent on foot to Palm Springs was one of the most physically exhausting efforts in my life and will be part of a separate post…

Monday April 10th: We left the Coachella valley base early in the morning so I could be hiking before 9am and Ashley could get to work from a coffee shop shortly thereafter before she checked into her San Diego AirBnB for her work week. I left from the same square foot of dirt I departed last Friday at Barrel Spring, crossed Highway S22 and kicked off my Tuco Ramirez-inspired 70-mile stroll in the desert (albeit with more access to water, and a heavier pack). I continue to mix trail shoes and sandals on my feet, but I replaced my Altra Lone Peaks this week with a low-top version, taking quite the risk to bring brand new shoes on the trail that had to cover the majority of these 70+ miles (side my feet only can’t do about 5 to 7 miles at this point in sandals.)

The first seven miles was a rolling meadow, mostly between 3,000 and 4,000 feet but it was exposed to the sun and quickly HOT. The temps neared 100F in the low country and were over 80 here. I consumed 6 liters of water and took the long cut into the small town of Warner Springs were I added 20 ounces of Pepsi Zero to the hydration plan. Along this section there was a cool boulder formation called Eagle Rock, that quite literally looks like a giant eagle. It’s a worthy ~6 miler round trip day hike from the highway near Warner Springs for anyone passing through.

I did get my first live rattlesnake warning during this section by a hiker going the other way, but it moved along by the time I passed. It’s considered a virtual certainly to encounter the fabled snake along a PCT thru hike, and I would get my chance by week’s end, but not this day. It’s important to be situationally aware, but these days of walking for 6 to 10 hours, impossible to be 100% vigilant. So, have to ride with a bit of luck too. In my ears, I rotate in about equal thirds between audio books/podcasts, music, and the open sounds of nature. Using AirPods with a transparency mode and the volume low, I’m alway in tune with the sounds around me, either way.

After leaving Warner Springs, there was about a mile stretch of road walk along the highway with a narrow shoulder. I’d already walked a mile out of the way to go to town, so I had no problem catching a ride and this afternoon was a first to hitch a ride. Part of PCT lore is hitching, which is a rarity otherwise in America. This was an inadvertent hitch for me, a guy who called himself Pumpkin, driving a dusty Tesla with Nevada plates and just enough room from me and my pack in the front seat. He says he does the route from Las Vegas to SoCal often and successfully dropped me off after a mile instead of taking me on further to some random mission.

I could feel my pack weight (with the full week of food) the rest of the day as the air was hot and it was a steady climb along Aqua Caliente Creek from 3,000 feet to over 5,000. I wanted to get 10 miles from Warner Springs, 18 miles for the day and made it a little over 17. I knew there was a water source just a 1/2 mile further and was willing to go light with water as I finished polishing off the 6 liters for the day. I had about an hour until the 7pm sunset and sat back in my chair and took in the desert view from my solo campsite near the aptly named Lost Valley Spring.

Tuesday was a much slower day after pushing my body to the limit yesterday. I packed up camp by 7 but then lallygagged at the water source a 1/2 mile up, filtering a couple liters and enjoying a casual instant oatmeal and peanut butter bagel breakfast (I make peanut butter bagels just for the first couple mornings after a resupply, at least two resupplies in!) My pace was slow, but the rest of the day was almost surreal high desert beauty in the Anza-Borrego Desert State Park with the epic California bloom after the wet winter unfolding everywhere, flowers from the soil, from most of the cacti and then countless yuccas going into their death blooms. It was another 6 liter water day with little natural flowing water so thankful there was a large water tank by Mike’s Place, a well known trail angel who is sometimes around on weekends.

I had hoped to make the next major highway crossing (74) by Thursday but the 17 mile opening day had my thinking – maybe I could get there, and the huge hamburger at the PCT-friendly Paradise Valley Cafe by dinner time on Wednesday. But I was feeling pretty worn out mid afternoon and only made it 14 miles, leaving me 19 for Wednesday, with a lot of up and down elevation, so it didn’t seem likely. I set up camp along the trail and just as I was sitting down for dinner I heard an enthusiastic ‘Hey, Ahhh! Another Hiker!’ A high energy thru hiker from South Korea was excited to see someone else after a mostly solitary day on the trail (I saw only one other person all day). There was one other tent spot in my little camp area so I had neighbor for the night, Wujin. About 30 seconds after I met him, a roving trail angel named Epiphany came by at a swift pace. She had thru hiked the PCT in ‘21 and was just doing a quick 7 mile evening lap before camping down trail with friends, handing out cucumbers, apples, candy, and string cheese. That apple was just incredible to compliment the night’s freeze dried dinner! It’s hard to articulate how amazing these moments are, the longer and more exhausting the day, the more ecstatic the moment feels.

Wednesday morning I was up with the sun and felt surprisingly good (the body often makes no sense – as my feet were killing finishing last night, and had fully recovered overnight). That was enough to put out to friends staying in the Palm Springs area and Ashley near San Diego that I was going to gun for the 19 miles and Highway 74, less than an hour’s drive from each spot. While I got going nearly, some cell coverage floated out from the town of Anza and I took advantage for about 45 minutes, after only getting a mile down the trail. After that, I was on mission though, keeping up a 3 mph moving pace for about 10 miles (unprecedented in my journey so far). I carefully managed the water, filling up a couple liters 3 times so I wasn’t carrying too much, but staying hydrated. That meant one fill up at a barely moving stream at low angle through sandy soil and a very gritty filtering process. My Platypus QuickDraw handled it well, as I’m pretty happy with this essential-for-life tool on the trail that was new to me for this journey.

At PCT mile 145, there was another water tank maintained on another trail angels land named Mary. I met a few folks there including Todd, who was definitely spent from his day on the trail. He shook his head and said ‘absolutely everything is harder out here, making food, going to bed, keeping things clean. Everything.’ Harder, and also simpler. Here on the 12th hiking day, I’ve already opened and re-stored my Pocket Rocket 2 stove at least 20 times, each step like clockwork. How about after another 100 days, with still maybe 70 to go?

From here it was another 6 1/2 miles to the highway, and I was hydrated and was now confident I could pull off the distance. My visiting friends weren’t able to make it (very understandably enjoying precious vacation time!) but Ashley was able to wrap up work, fight San Diego commuter traffic and join me for the last half mile of my near-19 mile day. Again, the small moments are 10X the magic – seeing her, seeing Aspen and then we had an hour until Paradise Valley cafe closed where I had the biggest burger I could find and a heartily recommended double IPA from the proprietor. We pushed it until after dark and it was hard to say goodbye to Ashley and Aspen (the flip side of these visits). I set up camp in the large field by the highway in the dark, buckling down for what hopefully would be the Last Gasp of Winter.

As forecast, it was a frigid day on Thursday, socked in much of the day with occasional blue skies poking through. The hike was just an 11 miler north from Highway 74, but ascending 2,000 feet to a shade below 7,000 as the San Jacinto range officially began. Most PCT hikers have been bailing out via the town Idyllwild along the western slope of the mountains as several of the sections still under snow are also very steep and a mountaineering exercise rather than a hike. So I turned off the trail at Mile 163, down 300 feet and a mile to another magical oasis totally out of place for this part of the world, Cedar Springs. It sits at about 6,500 feet of elevation and huge cedar trees that look transported from my PNW homeland in a little grove by the spring. It was also chilly, as it might be in the mountains in April at home but my eyes looked through the trees and into the valley below where I could finally see Palm Springs directly with my own eyes, having hiked back over 4 days what took 2 hours to drive on Monday morning. I spent an hour scouting for the trail that would take me down into Palm Springs. Outside of the grove, there were the remnants and ghost trees from a 1994 fire and classic thick brush growing up and obscuring the old trail. I hadn’t seen a live trail report for a decade, but knew the trail had once been there. A few other PCT hikers came down and set up camp, planning to continue back up to the trail in the morning and seeing how far that could into the higher San Jacinto’s.

I went to bed unsure if I’d try this long abandoned, rarely used trail to fulfill my weird dream of walking on foot from the Mexican border to Palm Springs, through the mountains and high desert. And that story is for the next post…