The first stretch from Agua Dulce to Tehachapi was fairly pleasant. After leaving the Saufleys and pushing on for a quick 24 miles, I was sucked back into the trail magic scene by going to the home of the Andersons in Green Valley. I was originally hoping to push on to make 30 miles after leaving Hiker Heaven, but I had heard too many stories about the Andersons to pass up the detour. The note at the trail/road crossing describing taco salad dinner and pancakes + coffee breakfast for hikers only added to the temptation. I figured a few extra hours/miles wouldn't make any difference in the long run. Whereas Agua Dulce/the Saufleys/Hiker Heaven is more like a hostel, the Andersons was much more of a party scene. Campfires, music, coolers of beer, etc. - it was a good time.
Shortly after leaving the Andersons, I arrived at the edge of the infamous Mojave Desert. Everyone has heard horror stories about crossing the ~20 miles of shadeless, sandy, expanse in sweltering heat - but I lucked out with the weather yet again. The wind was blowing strong the whole time and I don't think the thermometer budged above 70 degrees! Heck, I almost had to put on my windbreaker after lunch. The only dangers were boredom from the flat terrain and the prickliness of joshua trees. I teamed up with two hikers named Kristen and Eurotrash for conversation to keep the boredom at bay. As for the joshua trees, I made the mistake (one that I am not likely to repeat) of standing up underneath of one after taking my lunch break.
After surviving the "dreaded" Mojave, I traversed the windy Tehachapi Mountains past countless wind turbines (GE, Micon, Vestas, and several other unmarked designs) to strike my next resupply point: Tehachapi.
Tehachapi was a fairly nice town as far as trail stops go, but it was not exactly set-up with hikers in mind. The grocery store, lodging/bakery/restaurants, and post office were each at opposite corners of town from each other. Fuel was also very difficult to come by. I was excited to get my MSR Pocket Rocket canister stove from REI in the mail, but I had to bounce it ahead to Independence and stick with my alcohol stove on account of not finding any fuel canisters. As for the alcohol stove, I had to call around before finally nabbing one of the last three bottles of HEET at the local Auto Zone. Despite these minor difficulties, it was a great place to stop. First, there was an AMAZING German bakery at the center of town (quite possibly the best bakery I have ever been to, although hiker hunger might have skewed my judgement). The cashier/owner knew I was a hiker the instant I pulled out my "wallet" (plastic bag containing cash and cards). Second, I had a great place to stay for the night. Long story short, I called a friend of a friend of a friend (an acoustics technician for GE's wind division I believe) from my days as a GE co-op and he was more than happy to take me into his family's house for the night. So while most hikers were either camping at the trailhead or paying $70+ a night for a hotel room, I was treated to the guest room at a house in Bear Valley and what must've been a pound of beef stroganoff (in addition to being a successful attorney, the GE contact's wife was also a great cook). Currently, his wife has the local covenant of nuns praying for her because she's fighting a proposal that would clear-cut old-growth oaks on the last natural ridgeline around town to completely surround Tehachapi with wind farms (usually she's on the "other side" trying to convince people to sign wind farm land leases). It's interesting to consider the trade-offs that one has to make when considering alternative forms of energy. Sure it's sustainable, but there's no such thing as utility-scale power that doesn't have some impact on the natural environment.
My personal journal doesn't have much to say about the three days after Tehachapi other than "sucks", "sand", "wind", "no water", "no f&$ing water", and several more permutations of the f-bomb. I was so eager to blast through my last leg of Southern California and start the Sierras (technically I was already in the southern verge of the Sierras) - but the desert wasn't giving up without a fight. This was one of the driest stretches of the trip and I decided to carry 8 liters for the first two days since I was afraid to trust my life to the water caches (jugs of water left on the trail by various benefactors; some are more reliable/better maintained than others). I was not happy with lugging this weight up and down the sandiest terrain that I've encountered to-date (at least the Mojave was flat and you could hike on top of the concrete Los Angeles aqueduct). The heat and sun also picked up, so summer has finally arrived in the Sierras to think on the bright side. The only saving grace of this section was an incredible bit of trail magic at Walker Pass. Warner Springs Monty, the famous (published PCT author) Yogi, and a number of other trail angels got together at the campground to throw an EPIC cook-out. After getting pissed-off with cows blocking the trail in several locations and leaving tons of poop on most of the places where I wanted to camp the past few days, I made sure to grab two hamburgers before pitching camp. I'll spare a full accounting of the menu, but I will say that the quantity and diversity of food consumed by myself and the 20 or so other hikers there was obscene.
After Walker Pass, it was a quick two-day push before I arrived, after one month and just over 700 miles of hiking, at Kennedy Meadows. Assuming my snow gear and food make the trip from the Inyokern post office to the general store today, I hope to strike out for the High Sierras tomorrow morning. After weeks of chatting with other hikers about their plans and thoughts on the snow conditions, my apprehension has been mostly replaced with excitement. Sure, going will be made a lot slower once I hit the snow fields and icy passes - but the terrain will be beautiful and the technical challenges rewarding. There are also a lot of other hikers heading out the next few days, so I don't think I will have trouble buddying up with a group. Dirtmongerer (a trail crew supervisor from Montana) has already offered to recruit me into his group of fast hikers leaving two days from now while Jacob and Waldo are heading out tomorrow. Ideally, I should leave tomorrow since I imagine I'll need to spend some time practicing self-arrests and other snow skills at the first few snow fields I encounter (thus if I leave a day ahead of Dirtmongerer, him and the rest of his group will probably catch me by the time I'm comfortable with the mountaineering skills I'll need for the rest of the Sierras). However, I'm at the mercy of the US Postal Service for the time being: my package with boots, microspikes, ice ax, maps, and food is important to say the least. Until then, I'm just relaxing at the general store, doing laundry for the first time since Agua Dulce, and stocking up on calories for the trials ahead. Over and out for now.
Thrilling, evocative account. Belongs in National Geographic Traveler or other fine magazine. Or a book. Along with your photos.
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