My 27th day on the PCT was largely spent hiking through yet another huge windfarm roughly twenty miles north of Tehachapi Pass, beginning at Sweet Ridge and ending near the southern tip of the Piute Mountains.
From PCT mile 579.2 to 594.1 Total: 14.9 miles 5/5
I woke up that morning within a freezing cold cloud. My tent was soaking wet from the continuous mist that was blowing past all night. But I was warm and dry inside, so all was well. After unzipping the door and peeking outside I decided to stay in the tent to eat my hot oatmeal and protein powder slurry. But I knew that I’d have to deal with the soggy tent eventually. It really wasn’t that hard to do, as it (technically) wasn’t raining. The trick was to keep the dry parts of the tent separate from the wet ones. I stored the dripping tarp in a plastic bag of its own within my backpack.
I started hiking in the mist along the dirt road, still wearing my Goretex hard shell, both pants and jacket, as it was a bit breezy. I was thankful that it wasn’t howling, as this was a windfarm notorious for powerful gusts. It was cold, but the sun was rising, and hiking kept me warm. All I had to do was keep on walking, which is the story of the PCT in a nutshell.
As the morning wore on, the clouds began to burn off, or maybe they merely rose higher, but either way the views got better. This was a relatively arid region of mountains, so the vegetation was mostly chaparral bushes spotted with occasional bursts of dwarf-style pine trees. On a roasting hot summer day this place would be a shadeless inferno, but today it was cool. Perfect Hiking Weather.
After four miles of hiking, I arrived at my day’s water source: Golden Oaks Spring. It was still early, and there was a young couple camped nearby. I spoke with them as I filled up all of my water containers directly from the pipe at the spring. I like springs because I don’t have to bother purifying the water from them. Or so I feel. Your mileage may vary. If I was here with Vicki, she would surely insist that I either filter it or treat it with chlorine drops. But I was alone, and this water looked about as pure as it gets. My backpack felt like it weighed a ton afterward, which it did, but I didn’t care. I liked having water, and this load had to last until tomorrow.
I continued hiking for many hours, winding up and down within a zone full of windmills. These things were huge! I took a video when I was in the shadow of one of them, and was able to see for myself just how fast the wingtips were moving, even though the blade assembly looked to be turning slowly about its axis. In other words: You don’t realize just how big these things are from a distance. As noon approached, I decided to stop for lunch in a sunny spot. I grabbed the wet part of my tent and spread it out on the grass to dry in the breeze. Then I sat down and ate my trusty Pop-Tart and read my Kindle for a while with my boots off. My sweaty socks needed drying, too.
The trail went up and down quite a bit that day, but the net result was a descent of roughly one thousand feet. Maybe it would be a bit warmer tonight, I thought, as I hiked along for hours through a high region of rolling hills and valleys. Every so often there would be an impressive display of wildflowers, which always made me smile. And get out my camera for yet another photo.
In midafternoon, the trail veered northwest and the line of windmills headed off to the northeast. It appeared that I was finally out of the windfarm! I had been hiking near them, or within sight of them, for over fifty miles. That’s a lot of power, and there was plenty of room (and wind!) for many, many more.
When I got to the campsite I found it populated by a crowd of hikers, many of them southbound from Walker Pass on their “Flop” after bypassing the still-snowy SoCal mountains. It was fun, as a solo hiker, to meet and converse with other humans. It gets lonely out on the trail by yourself. Meanwhile, the better tent spots were already taken. I wandered around the area and found a decent spot under some trees, which offered protection from the breeze. And, thanks to my lunch break, I was able to set up a dry tent.
I also ended up re-meeting some NOBO hikers from two days ago while climbing out of Tehachapi Pass. Their Tramily of four were camping here, although they said they should have numbered six, but one couple had to turn back not long after I passed them. They were hoping to get back together later on, but you never could tell. Unforeseen circumstances, like gear failures and injuries, can permanently break up a happy Tramily.
After that, it was time to get back to my routine. I headed for the tent, made dinner, and read my Kindle. When I got up one last time before bed, I noticed some nearby hikers hobbling around like cripples. Then I realized that I was doing it, too! I shouldn’t have been surprised, really. Feet take an awful beating when you pound a trail for eight to ten hours per day, and mine were no exception. I got back in the tent and rubbed my heels, where most of the pain resided. Did it help? It was hard to say. But they were happy not to be hiking any further that day.
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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