I had a surprisingly good night’s sleep at Little Jimmy Campground. I was expecting the Memorial Day crowd to stay up late and make a lot of noise. But, it seemed like just about all 150 of the people in the camp were dead tired.
As we descended the 2 mile trail to Little Jimmy Campground’s parking lot, we could see the morning fog receding from the distant mountains.
A strange sight when you've been in the desert so recently
Today, we’d be taking an alternate around yet another closure, but for once, it wasn’t because of a fire. This closure was to protect the habitat of the endangered mountain yellow-legged frog.
You know who to call for more information
There were 2 choices for alternates: A 19-mile route with good scenery but poor trail quality, or a 5-mile route with a 2-mile road walk. We opted for the later, since we weren’t supplied for the extra distance.
The road walk, it turned out, was easy.
Though the road was as crooked as the signpostsUnlike Highway 62, we had little traffic to contend with
The road walk took us eventually into a drive-in campground, still on Memorial Day weekend, so we saw all sorts of strange camping devices, like portable shower stalls, and a tent that could fit an entire picnic table inside.
From the campground, we followed a network of day hiking trails, passing by people in cotton clothes who smelled like soap, until we eventually reconnected with the PCT.
Once there, Elizabeth did something quite unlike herself – she decided to rest. We found a scenic spot, and took 20 minutes off.
An extremely rare picture of Elizabeth resting
A few moments later, we continued on, along the valley wall.
This section of the trail was accented with clusters of purple flowersWe crossed the 400 mile marker today
A bit after mile 400, we came to a water supply that the PCT Water Report listed as “a Boy Scout camp”.
Note the directions at the bottomCamp Glenwood - now with antlers
There was a spigot of untreated water nearby, but some hikers out front told us we could get treated water inside the cabin. They were all carrying cans of Tecate Light for some reason.
We ventured inside, and found two men. One was drunk, and was standing by a homemade-looking water filter. The other was more drunk, and was sitting at a table, surrounded by cans of Tecate Light.
“Welcome!” said the sitting man. He started to stand up to shake my hand, then thought better of it and sat back down. I walked over and shook his hand.
“You’ve got a great handshake!” he said, “What’s your name?”
“Marcus. Or Town Food is my trail name.”
“Let me tell you, what you’re doing is inspirational. Walking the PCT, Mexico to Canada. Inspirational, absolutely inspirational. What’s your name?”
“I’m Marcus”.
The conversation repeated like this. He would get excited about how inspirational we are, but then forget who we were. Unfortunately, though we inspired him, we were apparently not inspirational enough to get one of the Tecate Lights he’d given out to so many other hikers. So after explaining some basics about the PCT, and promising him that I’d protect Elizabeth, we made our way out of the cabin, and back to the trail.
I took my water from the spigot, and treated it. The tanks of filtered water inside the cabin were empty, and I don’t think I’d trust the membrane in their homemade filtering system – it looked like it had been repurposed from an auto parts store.
Back on the trail, the day began to drag. Poodle dog bush was still a concern. Keeping an eye out for poodle dog, and hula-ing around it, is really draining, hour after hour.
A big, healthy poodle dogPoodle dog buds ready to bloom
We crossed by a parking lot, and the day suddenly got a lot better – a group of trail angels were giving out cold soda and homemade salsa.
They were all trail runners, and seemed to know a lot about the PCT. Ken, or “Running Deer”, was talkative and jolly. The kind of person who is always talking and laughing about something. E.g. talking to Elizabeth: “So you’re from Texas, what’s the food you’ve missed the most?”
“Hmm, probably breakfast tacos.”
“Ahh! Hahaha! BREAKFAST TACOS!!”
With chips, salsa, and cold Pepsi inside me, and a nice chat behind me, the test of the day went by like a breeze.
Our destination for the night was a campsite called Sulphur Springs, which fortunately didn’t smell like its namesake. It was the only water for a while, so there were many hikers there.
Among them were a Taiwanese woman who chose the PCT because she wanted a trail that was “really long”. And, once again, we camped with Poppy. He had decided at the last minute to hitch around the Endangered Species Closure. “I saved so many frogs today!”, he said.
Today started out well. Within the first two miles, there was a lashed-together sign for trail magic. The local Boy Scout troop was making everybody breakfast. We were well-fed, though, and the sign said to walk uphill. So we moved on without giving the alleged breakfast a closer
You can tell it was made by boy scouts because of the quality knot tyingA steep trek for a second breakfast, though
A bit later, we found ourselves going through a ski resort. It hadn’t been operational for several years, however, due to poor snowfall.
An easier way to climb hillsEven the fake snow reservoir was low"Choose Option: A. Helmets are Recommended. B. Consider Wearing a Helmet"
Next, we had the option of hitching on Highway 2 into Wrightwood, a famously hiker-friendly town. While we were considering whether it was worth the time to hitch, a car drove up and asked us if we were hikers needing a ride into town. We accepted, and soon found ourselves in a small mountain town.
The view down to Wrightwood
The businesses left something to be desired. The grocery store was expensive, and the coffee shop’s “milkshake” was the worst of the trip (blended ice with chocolate syrup).
But, the locals were really, really nice to hikers. Twice, people asked us if we needed a place to stay that night. Excited children asked us if we were hikers and would come to their barbecue. But, we weren’t staying the night, and had already eaten. So we resupplied at the grocery store and the hardware store, and got ready to head back. I did have a Cactus Cooler orange/pineapple soda at the grocery store. It was terrific. I’ve never seen it before or after.
While discussing where to stand to hitch back to the trailhead, a local asked us if we needed a ride. So we’d hitched into and out of Wrightwood without ever sticking out our thumbs. This driver had worked in Yosemite, and told us about his secret cave and waterfall.
Back at the trailhead, a local was giving fresh fruit to hikers out of her trunk. I had 10 blueberries – each was delicious. Hikers sat on the parking lot in a semicircle around her trunk, chatting and eating fruit. Our hitch got out of the car, and told them about his secret cave and waterfall.
We had an ambitious schedule for the rest of the day, so we headed on.
We’d later hear stories from people who stayed in Wrightwood, who found themselves in pristine guest rooms at mountain mansions, or at elaborate dinner parties, or so forth.
Next, we’d be climbing Mt. Baden-Powell, a steep mountain named after the founder of the Boy Scouts. The climb didn’t look so bad, until our trail went down, down, down into a valley to put us at the foot of the mountain.
We’d filled up to 4L water for an upcoming dry stretch, and the trail gained the last 3000 feet or so in about 3 miles. But after some sweaty switchbacks and some patches of snow, we found ourselves at the summit.
Not pictured: Elizabeth flailing and falling a second earlierThe view towards the summitThe tree at the junction between the PCT and the Baden-Powell summit spur trailElizabeth and I at the summitA panorama at the summit. My RX100M3 camera isn't very good at these
The summit was full of PCT hikers, and we met and spent some time chatting with Grub, Orange, and Perch. Perch shared his tasty homemade nutrition bars with us. They had coffee in them, which made them right up Elizabeth’s alley. He was kind enough to write down the recipe for me.
Later, we took a quick look at the Mt. Baden-Powell monument, and headed on our way.
It seemed heavy to carry up the mountain
We wanted to get to a water source that night, and that meant going to Little Jimmy Campground, a large campground that’s a 2 mile hike from the nearest parking lot.
As we approached, it got noisier and noisier. We entered the campground, and saw large tents as far into the woods as we could see. There were people with axes. There were children. We realized it was Memorial Day weekend.
But, heading further and further back in the campground, the tents got smaller, and the crowd got quieter. We ended up camping with none other than Poppy and Luke, the same people as last night.
