On my 36th day on the PCT, I continued hiking north on California Section D, via a long hot climb of 4000 feet, from Swarthout Canyon to the midpoint of Blue Ridge, and camped in a lovely spot that was almost certain to have no deer hunters nearby that night.
From PCT mile 347.2 to 360.0 Total: 12.8 miles 10/16
Yes, I knew that I had a long and difficult day ahead of me. But that’s what always happens when you enter a new mountain range: You go up. The down doesn’t really happen until you leave, although there may be many bumps along the way. Yes, this is the Way of the PCT. Up and down, seemingly forever. And today was supposed to be hot, especially at lower elevations. My plan for the day was to get going early in the morning, before dawn, so that I could get some of the climbing done while it was still cool. Since the temperature drops roughly five degrees for every thousand feet ascended, it would be twenty degrees cooler up there at 7500 feet, rather than the mid-eighties forecast for 3500 feet, where I started.
My plan was to wake up at about 3am and get started by 4 or 5am. Nice idea! Unfortunately, I was woken around midnight by the sound of big feet crunching on the sand right next to my tent! What was it? Was it a hunter? Was it a bear? I lay there in the dark with my eyes open, unseeing, and my ears peeled. The footsteps receded, and then I heard quieter sounds. Suddenly, I heard repeated thumping, not far away. It must be a large animal, I figured. I decided to growl menacingly, hoping to scare it off. It didn’t work. Then I saw the flash of a light on my tent. Whew! It was human, at least. I tentatively said “Hello?” and got a response. It turned out to be a lady hiker named Rabbit’s Foot, pounding in her tent stakes. She was thru-hiking southbound (SOBO), and had run out of water, so she hiked seven extra miles in the dark to reach the water cache. We spoke for a bit, and I apologized for growling at her. I asked about hunters, and she said that there were plenty along Blue Ridge, which had a forest road and campground. She said that they were nice enough, but she wondered if they watched her pee through the scopes on their rifles. As a guy, I was forced to admit that this was possible. Sad but true. Then we both went to sleep.
I woke up at 3am anyway, and I was jazzed to get moving. I packed up everything in record time, as quietly as possible to avoid disturbing Rabbit’s Foot. I would eat my breakfast later, on the trail while hiking. I walked over to the water cache and filled up my various containers (all but one) to the tune of four liters of water. Over eight pounds of extra weight! I probably should have filled the fifth liter and made it an even ten pounds, but I didn’t. I came close to regretting it later.
Then I hiked off into the darkness, with my headlamp bright in the cool morning air. I crossed Swarthout Canyon Road and continued onward, the trail gradually ascending toward the dark ridge in front of me.
As I climbed, the sky slowly grew brighter. It was going to be a cloudless day, and hot. But the air was still cool at the moment. As the light increased, I no longer needed my headlamp, but I left it on to discourage hunters from thinking I was a deer. They couldn’t see the bright orange poncho I tied on top of my backpack in these dim conditions. Luckily for me, the trail was smooth and cruisey, and I hustled right along. It was a lovely morning.
The sun rose, bright and strong. It had to happen eventually. At first it felt good, because my hands were still cold, but I knew I would feel otherwise later on. But not now. The views were getting better and I was really enjoying the feel of the trail on my legs. My feet weren’t hurting, either. Life was good.
I made it to the top of Blue Ridge, which was a long, straight line of bumpy mountain right next to the infamous San Andreas Fault. Which was undoubtedly how the ridge was formed, geologically speaking. The fault ran along what is now called Lone Pine Canyon, headed directly toward the town of Wrightwood. As a veteran Californian, I wasn’t too worried, earthquake-wise. Hopefully, the “Big One” wasn’t due for many years. Meanwhile, I climbed and climbed. The going got hot, but the slope was easy. And the views were awesome.
It was a around noon when I arrived near the Gobblers Knob campsite on the forest road. It was hot by that time. After climbing three thousand feet over the last ten miles, I decided to take a long break in the shade. I got out my lunchtime Pop Tart and ate it happily. I read my book for a while.
Technically, this was the spot that I intended to camp at, back before I changed plans to hike the first five miles on an extra day. This spot would have been fifteen miles total from I-15, my self-imposed daily limit. I felt like a slacker at only ten miles, the three thousand feet notwithstanding. I checked my Far Out app by reading the comments in this area. There was a stretch ahead of me for four miles with absolutely no dirt roads, which also meant no hunters. Hunters aren’t hikers, and they have to carry the dead deer back with them, so they usually don’t venture too far from their trucks. If I could camp in that dead zone I would be safe from errant gunfire.
The app made it clear that there were several potential campsites in the next three miles. I decided to head onward and check them out. Not surprisingly, each and every one was horrible for one reason or another. Unfortunately, I ended up hiking three more miles and another thousand feet in the hot sunshine, trying to find a viable campsite. I was not a Happy Camper.
Here is the comment that I added afterward to the Far Out App at mile 357.2
I was here during hunting season so headed further north where there are no roads. I read the comments below with high hopes but didn’t like the campsites at 358.6, 359, and 359.5 due to hot sun/wind exposure, but the spot(s) at 360.0 were awesome. In the pine trees! 🌲 With shade! Killer views and Verizon signal. It doesn’t get much better than that. BIGFOOT 10/16/2023
The only thing the spot lacked was water. Luckily, I still had some left. I drank more than I expected on the hot, extended climb. Tomorrow morning I had to hike five miles to reach a spring, but I would make it. One way or another.
I set up my tent in the shade on a carpet of pine needles. This spot was awesome, and was totally worth the short steep drop from the trail to reach it. I blew up my air mattress and immediately took a nap. I was whupped. At least my feet weren’t hurting, so my plantar fasciitis was happily in remission. Finally, I was a Happy Camper!
Later on, after eating my ramen noodle dinner, I discovered that my only pair of pants were torn, in an embarrassing spot. Luckily, there was almost no one on the trail to see, I told myself. That was when a group of three SOBOs went by. I said hello, but they were intent on heading onward. That McDonalds was calling them, plus they had less than 400 miles of trail left to hike, out of 2650! That’s motivation. It also motivated me to get out my sewing kit.
I had good cell signal, so I called Vicki and we talked for a while. It was lonely out here as a solo hiker, and a word from home meant a lot. Most of the time I camp in places without signal, so this was a real treat. We hung up eventually, and reluctantly. It was sunset, and time to head to bed. Hiker Midnight comes early, in other words.
I hung out for a bit in the tent, with my legs in the sleeping bag. I updated my CalTopo Map and added the comments to the Far Out app. Then I got out my headlamp and Kindle, and read a book for a while. It got dark. I heard a distant gunshot, and wondered what happened. But it was far away from me. I was safe up here in my perfect eyrie of a campsite on the Blue Ridge. Life was good again.
For a topographic map of the hike see my CalTopo Page
For LOTS more photos of the trek see my Flickr Page
<< Back to Day 35 Onward to Day 37 >> 
hikingtales.com 