While we were sitting around the campfire, a lot of things came and went in camp. The clouds couldn’t make up their minds—foggy; no, clear sky; no, foggy; no, clear sky. We went to bed on a foggy iteration. Hikers also came and went. A group of 5 did stay and set up right beside us. They didn’t have a good night the night before because of heavy winds. They were happy for a quiet spot behind some rocks. They were still packing up when we left at 8.
Having a port-o-potty in camp is a double edged sword. On the one hand, it’s very nice to not have to dig a hole. On the other, it tends to take mo re time. It really a good thing that we don’t have cell reception with access to the news or it would take even longer if I had reading material. I still like to relax and give my sigmoid colon a chance for a double shot. If it’s a hole, I’m a one and done type of guy. Much quicker.
Bunny and I were the last of our group, but not the last out of camp. It’s nice having people on the trail in some ways. The trail was free of snow for the first mile, but as we climbed, it was apparent it wasn’t going to stay that way. We donned our spikes and kept climbing. The high point for this morning’s climb was 9100’ which was the intersection with the San Jacinto summit trail. The whole morning was walking on snow and ice. We now understand the value of getting up early when walking on snow. The snow is frozen and iced over from the cold night air so the chance of post holing is greatly reduced. Piss holing still happens quite often, though. (Piss holing is a phrase I came up with for when your hiking pole goes about 4’ down in the snow. It’s a pisser to get it out.)
Another guy started hiking with Bunny and I near the junction of the summit trail. His name was Flare Hair for his bright red hair sticking out of his hat. I thought he was younger than us until I talked with him for a while. The bright red hair isn’t his, but is part of the cap. He is actually 67 years old and retired from Northrop/Grumman. He was an aeronautical engineer until he retired at 55.
About 5 miles in the snow cleared off the trail and we caught up with Wolf. He told us he had fallen once and put a little strain on his ankle, but he was doing alright. He said Blue’s Clues and Ivy were waiting for us just a little bit ahead. When we caught up with them, I needed to refuel before continuing on. Flare Hair kept going and we didn’t see him any more today. Bunny thought we were through the hard part of the day, but I knew the worst was yet to come as evidenced by everyone waiting for us to catch up. We still had to traverse Fuller Ridge which the sheriff had tried to talk us into bypassing when he met us walking into Idyllwild.
After we had finished our snack and Bunny put on her pack, I was amazed at how fast Ivy and Blue’s Clues disappeared down the trail. I don’t envy them their youth and strength (actually, I do), but the young f#&s are so damn fast. I am jealous and bummed simultaneously. It is so clear that we are holding them back. I’m glad they waited for us to catch up and stick with us through the worst part of the day, but it’s not fair to them that they are stuck with geriatric hikers. We couldn’t even keep up with Wolf, and he’s injured.
When the snow started back up, Ivy waited for Bunny to catch up and stayed with her for the next 3.5 miles until we dropped down to a level below snow. Blue’s Clues stayed behind me and Wolf brought up the rear. It wasn’t as bad as we had built it up in our minds to be (it never is), but I was glad for the support from our friends. Now that we are through it, I am racked with guilt that we are holding them back so much.
The plan for day was to make it to 17.9 miles, but I am just not physically able. They waited for us to catch up at a turn to a flowing creek and decided on a location about 4 miles shorter than planned. We tried to tell them to not keep waiting on us and just move on at their own pace. When we were in Idyllwild, we told them to pick a spot for the day and whenever we say goodbye in the morning, just understand it might be the last goodbye if we can’t keep up. They like Bunny too much to accept that. Me, they were ecstatic with the idea.
Leaving the waterhole I kept dropping back. Even my wife didn’t seem too concerned and just kept moving. I went over an hour without seeing anyone at all. I was livid with Bunny. If I were to do this to her, she would be guilt tripping me to hell with “if only I had a husband who cares…”. She knows I don’t have a map or any form of communication. She carries an iPhone and an inReach. I made up my mind that from now on I’m going to carry the phone if she can’t bother to even look back and check up on me.
I know I’m old and slow. Part of the reason is because I was really overloaded. I know my pack had to weigh around 55# after I picked up 3 liters of water. I try to carry the majority of equipment and food because Bunny’s hips start really hurting her if her pack goes over 28#. We’re carrying 8 days of food and 7 liters of water between us. I never carried more than 3-4 days on the AT last year with 1.5 liters of water at the most. The logistics of resupply and water on the PCT are killing me.
I wanted to stop. I couldn’t see anyone in front of me and I was sure there was no one behind me. When we had stopped for water, it was 3:30. I knew we had 3.3 miles to camp so I should get in around 5. I didn’t have a map (but I will in the future since I’ll be carrying the phone) so I could check on my progress. I’m the kind of person that gets motivated by knowing my progress. If I don’t have any kind of feedback, I lose steam in a hurry. I kept rounding bends hoping to see something, but never did. I am Easily Forgotten so it will probably take a day or two for anyone to even remember that I was hiking with them. This concept was reinforced by my wife’s lack of concern.
I know I won’t leave anyone behind, but I know I’m the type of person that people like to ditch. I remember hanging from a rope with my toes barely touching the ground when we were doing pole climbing at Philmont (flashback to my teen years in Boy Scouts). The guy belaying me kept asking if Curtis was a good crew member. All anyone had to do was say yes and he’d let me down. Instead, I was kept dangling for about 10 minutes until he got tired of holding me up. I swore from then on I wouldn’t put myself in a position of needing someone to vouch for me. I know I won’t ever be first at anything, but I can sure as hell put enough effort into not being last. That’s why I rarely let myself fall very far behind the group. All I have to contribute to the group is my trail voice. Is that enough to get them to remember me?
I did have a bright spot last evening. A major milestone, even. What ticks me off is that I can’t remember the song. I remember we were all standing around Ivy’s tent and I sang a line of a song and Wolf sang the next line. It was so quiet that I’m not even sure anyone else even heard it or noticed, but this is a major victory for me. I’m stopping on a high note tonight. 🎶 Riding the storm out 🎶
EFG
Oh woe is me! Your wife knew exactly where you were the whole time. Ivy & I kept turning to look for you.
I was scared and alone, it’s not good to be left behind when you’re Easily Forgotten