PCT Day 14
Mile: 162.7 to 181.2, plus a 3.7 mile detour to the summit of Mount San Jacinto (22.2 miles)
Start: Cedar Spring remote campsite
Finish: Tenting just below Mount San Jacinto summit
Shannon and I woke up at 5:15am, grabbed some additional water to tank up for the next 15 miles and hung out briefly with thru-hikers Brynn and Strike Zone who had this hilarious alternative personality whenever he said his name Strike Zonelike he became a super bro or meathead athlete. They were both hilarious and I hoped we’d run into them again. It was my turn to collect water for us at the spring this morning where sunlight was gently filtering through the pine branches and the water collected in the horse trough sparkled brilliantly. The birds were chirping all around, flitting from tree to tree and celebrating the cool morning air as I filled up the water bladder with another 4 liters of water for our long dry hike today.
As I collected water from the trickling spring, I heard what sounded like two miniature helicopters buzz by me. In the sunlight I saw the shimmering feathers of two green backed hummingbirds darting and flitting around in the water source. One of the hummingbirds hovered right in front of my face where I held absolutely still, watching the jeweled creature with bated breath. The curious hummingbird tilted its head and decided that I wasn’t a threat. He landed in the puddles collecting below the spring only a couple feet from me and started splashing around in the sparkling puddles, drinking water and cleaning his feathers. It was so magical to see the hummingbirds so close and I wish I had my camera, but it always seems to be that when something magical happens like that you never have your camera on you.
We talked to a couple of the hikers and checked in with two women in their fifties and sixties from Washington state who looked exhausted. They told us that they didn’t realize how hot it was out in the desert having come from the cool temperate rainforests of Washington. Yesterday was their first day out hiking in Southern California and they both got so dehydrated and overheated that they almost called the local Search-and-Rescue to be evacuated from the wilderness. I was a little concerned and asked if they had electrolytes with them and knew that they should hike during the coolest parts of the day, taking a siesta during the hottest part of the day to get out of the heat. They seemed to know all of this but weren’t in any hurry to get going even though the morning was just getting hotter. Hopefully they made it out okay!
After a hard steep ascent up the Cedar Springs side trail back to the PCT, the morning scenery was lots of burnt trees from a huge forest fire two years ago. Despite the black charred remains of the Manzanita bushes and pine trees, bright green new growth was emerging from the ashes. All morning I couldn’t stop sneezing because of all the pine pollen that had been dumped on us in the giant pine grove surrounding our campsite. Pollen coated everything – our tent, our packs, the plants next to the trail and our hair and skin. I don’t usually have bad allergies but they were wicked today and couldn’t stop sneezing.
As we climbed the San Jacinto foothills up, up and up, we started hitting some of the first real mountains on the whole trail. Luckily there was no snow at this time of year but some years you have to wear snow spikes and potentially even bring a snow axe if the snowpack hadn’t melted. There was tons of elevation today on our hike as we wound our way up to the 10,834 foot tall Mount San Jacinto summit. We ran into Poppy, Ole Man and Spielberg who were huddled together under their sun umbrellas joking with each other as they delayed descending a steep side trail a mile down to grab water.
Our calves and quads were feeling the elevation but we had to remain focused as we crossed some treacherous mountain goat paths where sand and rocks had swept parts of the trail away. We crossed the steep part of the trail where the trail narrowed and fell away into a 400 foot cliff where we were extra careful. Last year a thru hiker named Microsoft actually fell off the mountain in late March when there was a bunch of snow still. He didn’t make it out alive. We silently thought of him as we carefully picked our way around the steep, narrow paths that we definitely wouldn’t want to be out hiking on in the snow. Even when the trail was dry and the weather was sunny, it was too steep and too easy to fall here.
We were especially glad it was sunny and dry when we came to a sketchy rockslide blocking the trail. A fraying climbing rope had been strung up to help hikers navigate around the rocks. Shannon carefully crawled around the boulder trying not to rely too much on the scraggly rope because it could very easily tear and send him plummeting a few hundred feet. Yikes! I was small enough to fit through a tunnel underneath the fallen rocks, and shoved my backpack through. In the middle of the cave I had to tell myself to stay calm and not panic as I patiently waited for Shannon to make it around the rocks successfully.
On the other side of the rockslide, two hikers named Endless and QB from a town near my hometown in Massachusetts helped talk us through the sketchy area and helped grab our packs, which we’re so grateful for. They helped us through the obstacle and hauled our bags up the steep rocks, and it was really nice to have that kind of trail magic coming from fellow hikers.
Shortly after the rockslide, we spent a good amount of time in an obstacle course of sorts hopping and climbing over and under giant fallen burnt trees. We stopped for a quick lunch in the horrendous sun, using our umbrellas to stay out of the sun since all the foliage and trees had been burned away from the fires. There was no escaping the hot sunrays and lunch was especially miserable because we couldn’t rest or linger long without overheating.
As we were distracted eating and keeping the local red ant armies off of us, we saw sassy Danielle again and she got even with us by scaring us which made us laugh. We had accidentally scared her while hanging out in the cave yesterday and she startled us now while we were chatting and not paying attention. After lunch, we ran into our first Poodle Dog Bush, the notorious blister-inducing and severe skin irritant plant that crops up after forest fires on the west coast. Anyone who touches or brushes up against the plant unknowingly is left with oozing rashes and blisters causing severe pain and symptoms that can last for months. One PCT hiker I read about who got tangled up in Poodle Dog Bush said for months every time he showered or swam, the water reactivated the painful rash. We did not want to touch it, long and short of it.
We carefully avoided the Poodle Dog Bush and stepped gingerly around it with our backpacks and hiking poles. The afternoon was hot as usual and the elevation was especially difficult on my feet and legs. I felt my flatlander self becoming exhausted from the high altitude and the thin air and needed a short break soon to put up my legs. Shannon and I finally arrived at the water source in the early afternoon after 15 waterless miles. There were still lots of snow patches around in the shaded forests which made the creek water refreshing and also skin-numbingly cold. Having the snow patches around was also really nice because we put our aching feet in the frigid snow and tried to lighten the mood by making some snow angels in shorts and tshirts.
My body was exhausted and I found a flat spot on a gravel wash where I laid down for a nap while Shannon talked to hikers Endless and QB from Massachusetts and Oraca who is from Wales (get it? Orca is a type of whale and he’s from Wales… lol). I guess I met Endless six years ago when he had just hiked the PCT for the first time, and he knew one of my Appalachian Trail friends SAS! My friends Jacqui, Jennie and I had ran into Endless on the Pemigewasset loop in New Hampshire and now had run into him out on the Southern California mountains – so weird! Such a small world this hiking community is.
After chowing down on some ibuprofen and resting a little bit, I was good as new and we hiked up the side trail to the top of Mount San Jacinto. Up, up, up we went and as the daylight dwindled the sky lit up in beautiful pastels. A couple of welcomed springs on what had been a very dry hike trickled out of the side of the mountain. In the damp meadows below the springs lily shoots and skunk cabbage abounded in huge numbers. Shannon was exhausted but we kept plowing ahead because we really wanted to see sunrise and sunset if possible from the summit of Mount San Jacinto.
As the sunset, two young deer were moseying in the Manzanita bushes ahead of us grazing on the fresh blooms. The yearlings curiously watched us as they tried to figure out what we were with our big backpacks and hiking poles. We had to keep hiking so when we moved up trail, the two deer bounded off and we continued on as the moon and the stars came out. Finally, we arrived near the top of the mountain where a flat spot at the summit junction looked like a great spot for setting up camp for the night. We set up our tent between the dirty packed snowdrifts that still remained in patches on the mountain.
We chowed down on dinner in the dark – me with mac-and-cheese made from chickpeas and Shannon tried a spicy ramen noodle dish that you can only find in specialty grocery stores that he had traded for some Spam with hiker Chainsaw way back in Warner Springs. The moon was gorgeous amongst the pines and the stars. The cities of Palm Springs and Palm Desert spread out below us in a blanket of twinkling lights.
We quickly fell asleep, exhausted from the long day, the obstacle courses of trees and rockslides and thin air that caused our muscles to have to work extra hard today. As we tucked in for the night, I think I was either really dehydrated or really low on electrolytes because my legs kept twitching uncontrollably, which was probably not a good sign. We had an early morning in store for us to go see the sunrise tomorrow at the top of the San Jacinto summit and sleep thankfully came quickly to both of us.
