We packed up, I ate a meager breakfast, and we got started. Our next water source was a ranger station, about 5 miles out. Thoughts of food floated through my head, as we saw some long views down the hill.
At the ranger station there was indeed water – in coolers on a picnic table, set out for hikers. Not only that, there was an ice chest of cold soda and Snickers, sold on the honor system. I bought two sodas and two Snickers, and was feeling better fast.
Next, we’d be heading into a valley, through a hiker-friendly KOA campground, where we could refill water.
But on the way down, we were surprised to find a trail angel with a cooler, waiting at a picnic table in a parking lot. “Sorry, I’m all out of soda,” he greeted us, “all I’ve got left is beer.” It turned out to be good beer, too – Ballast Point Sculpin IPA.
His name was Jameson, he had come to the US from Switzerland to hike the PCT, but an ankle injury had stopped him. He still had time on his visa, though, so he was splitting it between tourism and trail magic.
We proceeded on to the KOA, and soon found that there was a little store near where we could get water. The store had ice cream, soda, and other things to combat the sweltering heat. We sat in the shade, ate our lunches, and had ice cream, juice, and soda.
So far, on this day when I was worried about going hungry, I ended up having an unexpected 3 sodas, 2 Snickers, ice cream, juice, and beer. I’d had a windfall of calories.
Leaving the KOA I walked through the sprinklers. I was dry within 5 minutes.
Leaving the KOA sent us across a small creek in the center of the valley – the creek was probably the reason that any civilization was built here. It gave us one last bit of unexpected shade before heading back into the burning sun.
Just out of the jungle, there was a humble monument commemorating the completion of the PCT. Just north of the KOA happened to be where the last two trail construction teams met, trans-continental railroad-style.
Further north, we passed under Highway 14.
Just barely north of the freeway was a tiny canyon with dramatic rock formations. It had been used as a low-cost set for several Westerns, including Blazing Saddles.
The valley also had signs labeling various indigenous plants.
The next landmark was the Vasquez Rocks, some large sedimentary formations that had also featured in movies. But the trail there was poorly marked, and we took a wrong turn. After retracing our steps, I made an arrow from a dead yucca stalk to point future PCT hikers in the right direction.
As we passed by the Vasquez Rocks, I saw a colorful sun shade in the parking lot. I was convinced it was more trail magic, but Elizabeth insisted I was seeing things, and wouldn’t walk the 100 yards to the parking lot to find out.
We continued north, and soon found ourselves in the town of Agua Dulce.
The PCT passes straight through Agua Dulce, along paved roads, so we got started on what looked to be an easy road walk. Our destination for the night was Hiker Heaven, a trail angel’s house in the northern part of town.
After a few minutes, a van pulled over next to us. The driver pretended to be from the “L.A. Society for the Homeless and Helpless”, and offered us meal tickets, or a ride into Palmdale to find work. The van was full of grinning backpacker-looking people, some wearing In-N-Out Burger hats.
He insisted that the PCT wasn’t here, that it had been moved 20 years ago, but eventually admitted to being from Hiker Heaven, and offered us a ride the rest of the way.
We wanted to walk the rest of the PCT miles, though, so a few minutes later, we were in downtown Agua Dulce. Dinner was sounding good, so we tried one of the town’s 3 restaurants, Big Mouth Pizza.
Hiker Heaven is a mile from the trail, and they run an hourly shuttle from downtown. One just left as we arrived at the pizzeria, so we’d have plenty of time to eat.
We ordered our pizza, and waited. And waited, and waited. They served the beer right away (Wolf Creek IPA, a very bitter California-style beer), but after nearly an hour, we had no pizza. We chatted with another hiker, a man in his 50s wearing a Montana marathon shirt. He got no pizza either.
Upon interrogation, the waitress said they hadn’t been able to find us (the restaurant was one room, and not busy). They had forgotten to make the Montana marathon man’s pizza entirely.
We got ours to go, so we could sit on the curb and wait for the shuttle. The shuttle was late too, so we got to eat our
pizza.
At last, we hopped in the shuttle, and were off to Hiker Heaven.
We got there, and found a well-organized, efficient hiker-processing operation. When each shuttle arrives, a volunteer instructs the new arrivals in things like how the resupply packages are sorted, where to put your laundry to have it washed, how to sign up for showers, where to pitch your tent, where the postal supplies and sewing machines are, etc.
It had been a long day. We pitched our tents and went to bed.
Dear Marcus,
You should be writing for “Outside” magazine or some other outdoor adventure publication. Your blog entries are lively, full of detailed, interesting information and good descriptions of your challenges, all with a sense of wit and keen observation. I am so delighted to be vicariously enjoying your experiences. I loved the way you captured the comments from other hikers that you were clever enough to record.
I am so impressed with the way you and Elizabeth are meeting your sizeable challenges on water procurement, decent food, and hiking altitude variances.
Your photos are lovely as well so thankfully I am enjoying the Pacific Coast Trail right along with you.
May the trail angels keep appearing for you!
Fondly,
Carla
Thank you so much Carla! It means a lot coming from you — I’ve enjoyed your travel blog as well. You always manage to get such evocative and interesting pictures!
A fun read, as always. However, I did not see the word, “delicious” a single time. The Hiker Heaven shuttle and the size of their operation was a big surprise.