My fourth day on the trail was heralded by freezing cold weather and intense pain from huge foot blisters, so I hiked from Monument Peak to Highway S-1, at the Pioneer Mail Trailhead, and got a ride home with Vicki to take a couple of Zero Days while they healed.
From PCT mile 45.4 to 52.6 Total: 7.2 miles 3/26
When I woke up that morning it was seriously cold. My thermometer said that it was 25 degrees, as predicted. I decided to stay inside my tent, cozy in my down sleeping bag, until the sun arrived. I had already put on my down pants and down jacket about midnight, so when I sat up at sunrise I was ready to start cooking breakfast. Interestingly, after I took a swig from my Smartwater bottle, the water inside began to spontaneously and rapidly turn into ice! Sitting there, perfectly still, all night long, had supercooled the water. I immediately poured some water into the cooking pot before the whole thing froze. After that, it was entertaining to watch the ice forming within the bottle.
I was camping in my new Tarptent Aeon Li dyneema tent and a layer of hoarfrost had formed on the inside overnight, especially near where I was breathing. These single-wall tents are known for condensation issues, so I had purposely left the doors wide open for ventilation. But it didn’t matter at 25 degrees F. As I moved around cooking breakfast and packing up, little ice crystals fell on my gear. Sadly, one of the reasons I didn’t sleep very well was that, every fifteen minutes or so, a gust of wind would arrive and the tent fabric would snap, causing tiny ice crystals to fall on the exposed skin of my cheek. This invariably woke me up. Over and over again. I longed for my heavier tent with the inner screen. But that would have to wait.
Sadly, it turned out that one of my French companions didn’t fare very well in the icy cold. He asked how close the town of Julian was, as there was a gear store there. He hoped to add an inner liner to his sleeping bag. I told him that the trail neared the highway in a few miles, and he could easily hitch a ride into town from there. This became his new plan. There were more mountains up ahead of us, at even higher elevations, so I agreed that this was the best thing to do. He was planning on taking a Zero Day in Julian in a day or two anyway, so no biggie.
As I put on my hiking socks that morning, I examined the huge blisters on the balls of my feet, just below the toes. They looked more like a blister underneath another blister than anything else, and they hadn’t popped yet, which was amazing. They were almost an inch and a half in diameter, and very puffy, filled with pus. Huge! I put some KT Tape over them, but I also knew that it was far too late. I realized that hiking for two solid days with soggy socks had ruined my feet, by softening all the calluses that I had so painstakingly built up over recent months. I managed to keep them dry yesterday, hiking in the slushy snow, but it was too late, as the damage had already been done. Live and learn, and this was learning the hard way, via suffering.
Oh well. I finished packing my gear and bid adieu to Eduard and Arnoult. Then I hiked on. At least I didn’t have to worry about wet slush on the trail. Everything was frozen solid! And the trail was about to descend into the desert, so the threat of snow would be over.
As I hiked, my blisters behaved in an unusual way. When I started out, every step hurt, so I ended up walking on the outsides of my feet. After a while, the pain decreased, and I was able to walk normally, although I could still feel a dull aching with each step. This was a tiny bit better than a sharp pain at each step. Then I stopped for a breather, to take a couple of photos and maybe send a text, and when I started hiking again, the sharp pain was back. It slowly dropped to a dull roar as I walked. Rinse and repeat. It was as if the blisters were refilling when I stopped. Or maybe there was a net depletion of neurotransmitters from the pain neurons in my feet as they clamored so loudly for attention while hiking, and recharged themselves anew when I stopped. Whatever the reason, I was not a Happy Hiker. More like a gimping one. And it was getting intolerable.
I really didn’t want to do it, but I called Vicki and asked her if she would rescue me once again. The joy had left my thru hike. We reconfigured our plans for camping together in Warner Springs. And, truth be told, we missed each other, and spending a night or three with my wife, in my own comfy bed, sounded pretty darned good after last night. After that, I continued hiking toward Pioneer Mail, which would be about seven miles total, or half my usual fifteen mile day. I’d restart there again, with at least partially-healed blisters, in a few more days.
As I waited by the trailhead, there were other hikers taking breaks and drying out their gear. I kept hoping to see the French duo, to offer them a ride into town, but they never showed up. They must’ve taken a side trail to the road earlier on. Oh well. C’est la vie. When Vicki arrived, she already had a PCT hitchhiker in the car. He needed a ride to Julian, too. I loaded my backpack into the trunk and off we went.
The other hiker told us about getting a free slice of pie at Mom’s Apple Pie in Julian. All you had to do was show them your PCT Long Distance Permit! What a great thing to do! Julian was a hiker-friendly town, indeed. Vicki wanted me to buy an entire pie to bring home, so when I told the owner of the bakery that I wanted a free slice and also to buy a pie, he was dumbfounded. He’d seen hungry hikers before, but this was ridiculous! “You’re gonna eat this whole thing?” he asked. “Heck yes!” I replied, in a loud voice. “I love apple pie!” Everyone in the line started laughing. And then he gave me the pie. For free! “It’s on the house,” he told me, and wouldn’t take my money when I tried to pay. Hiker Hunger is Real!
After that, Vicki and I drove home, laden with Apple Happiness. I got home, took a shower, and threw my stinky clothes in the wash. Sadly, my blisters had popped during the seven mile hike that morning, and they were seriously hurting. I put on neosporin and bandages to keep my socks dry as the blisters kept on weeping pus. Yes, it was gross, but it couldn’t be helped. I was glad that I didn’t have to keep hiking on them. Living in San Diego was a big plus when shaking down a PCT Thru Hike. Then I kicked back with my feet in the air and continued planning for the days ahead of me. I was down, but not out.
For a topographic map of the hike see my CalTopo Page
For LOTS more photos of the trek see my Flickr Page
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