During my 39th day on the PCT, I hiked part of it on the actual trail itself, both out of Little Jimmy and to the north of Three Points, but also did quite a bit of road walking on the Angeles Crest highway, to avoid Poodle Dog Bush, for the Frog Closure, and also simply to make my life easier. Yes, I cheated a bit. And I’m not sorry.
From PCT mile 383.9 to 406.7 Total: 16.6 miles hiked, but 22.8 “PCT miles” 10/19
After a peaceful night at Little Jimmy Campground, I woke up early once again, before dawn. I ate my breakfast of hot oatmeal and got my gear together. The sky was just lighting up in the east, but it was still dark under the trees. This is my favorite time to hike, when the air is cool, my muscles are rested, and my brain is sharp. Time to hike!
It felt good to be hiking directly on the PCT once again, even though I hiked the first mile backwards yesterday to reach camp. But now I would continue NOBO, heading for Islip Saddle, where the PCT crosses the Angeles Crest Highway (ACH). At first the trail was flat, but then it began descending in earnest, about 750 feet down within a mile or so. Yes, this was steep for the PCT, which usually runs at a ten percent grade. At least it was downhill, so I wasn’t complaining. And the views were nice from the trail, back toward yesterday’s hike and also to the north over the Mojave Desert.
The final quarter mile of the descent was the big surprise: The entire hillside was covered with Poodle Dog Bush! There were so many plants that I could smell them at quite a distance. If you touch them, any part of them, you will get a nasty persistent skin rash. But not until two weeks later! Seriously. This stuff is nasty. I approached it cautiously, and kept my eyes out for dried-up flower stalks overhanging the trail. And there were several. I wiggled and dodged this way and that. I’m pretty sure I made it through unscathed. I never got a rash, at any rate. But it was a sobering experience. I was wishing I went down the forest road a mile back and took the highway instead. Too late now, after that big drop in elevation.
Poodle Dog Bush usually arrives after a wildfire, and this area was no exception. I made it down to Islip Saddle and looked around. I had started backpacking trips here, back in the nineties, and I remembered young Boy Scouts struggling to climb that 750 foot grade. But the trees were all alive then, and there was no PDB.
I sat down on the curb of the parking lot, and got out my phone. I made a comment on the Far Out app about the poodle situation. When I read further, there was even more on the north side of the highway, much of it unavoidable from the trail. I also read about hikers earlier this season who were singing and echoing in the two tunnels up ahead on the highway, as they bypassed the poodle section. After enjoying my road walk yesterday, I decided to join my Class of 2023 brethren and tackle the tunnels myself. “On the road again,” I sang as I headed up the hill on the asphalt. It was early enough that the highway was still mostly in shade, so it was a mellow walk. Sadly, I had never hiked this small section of PCT that I was skipping, unlike yesterday. Maybe someday, I thought, but not until the PDB was firmly under control.
I came around a turn and there were the tunnels, two of them with a small gap in the middle, so it was more like a long tunnel with a big skylight. I had driven through them before, and honked my horn for echoing fun, but today would be different. I helloed, and echoed, and even sang a song. It was quite a bit of fun. Much better than poodle dog dodging. Only one truck drove through the whole time I was in there, and the driver saw me easily. We waved.
Soon, the PCT came back to cross the road, but this time I ignored it completely, even though there was no PDB. I was simply enjoying the road walk. I have no excuses to make for my slacking off on the PCT. I decided to call this route a “PCT Alternate” which is the terminology the powers-that-be always use. The trail paralleled the road anyway, but with a bit of extra up and down and wiggling. The views were similar even if the struggle was less.
And then I arrived at the infamous “Frog Closure” section. Supposedly there are endangered frogs down below in a creek at the bottom of a canyon where the PCT inadvertently crossed it. This area has been closed for years and years, and I doubt that anyone ever bothered to count the frog population since they closed it. Nonetheless, the “Frog Bypass” was developed, and several miles of it entailed walking directly on the highway, just like I was doing now. This time I wasn’t cheating by being on the road. I was on a “PCT Alternate” for real.
The miles went by. The highway was smooth and enjoyable to hike. Eventually, I made it to the Buckhorn Campground, where the Frog Alternate turned north on a different trail in order to join the PCT down in Cooper Canyon. I stopped and checked my map. Did I want to do that section again? I hiked it just last year, in 2022, as a dayhike while filling in some missing pieces of California Section D. It was pretty, but I remembered the mess down at the bottom where the trail disappeared into thick brush as it crossed the creek. No thanks! I told myself. I decided to continue on the Highway once again. I was now on the extended non-official Frog Alternate.
At Cloudburst Summit, the PCT crossed the highway once again. I was feeling guilty by this point, so I decided to join the trail once again. And I was immediately sorry that I did it. There were lots of blowdowns and loose rocks all along the way. But that was part of the pleasure, wasn’t it? I remembered the time Vicki and I hiked this section, back in 2020 during the height of the covid pandemic. That was when the PCTA tried to cancel the PCT, but it was too late as they had already issued the permits back in Autumn. We met a small number of folks that were boldly hiking it anyway. The PCTA, Facebook, and “The Trek” all did their damnedest to shame and vilify those poor hikers, refusing to acknowledge their existence whenever possible. I still despise them for that, and won’t donate a dime of my money to them. Since that time, the PCTA changed the permit process, so you have to wait until two weeks before the hike to get the permit itself. Why? I don’t know why, but perhaps it’s all about Control. I liked those hikers, and I respected them. Hiking that year took a lot of guts. I should know, because I was hiking, too! Right near this spot, at mile 400, one of them even told me about the Guthook app (now called Far Out) and I bought the full PCT soon afterward. Thanks, Class of 2020!
A short time later, it crossed the road again. It really did parallel the highway in this region. I took a break in the shade and got out my phone. I was almost at the point where I had planned to camp, and it was barely noon. The road walk had cut off quite a few miles, it seemed. Maybe I could accelerate my camping schedule by a few miles, which might make other days easier, or my final day shorter. I came up with a rough plan. If I walked another seven miles, with three of them on the highway, I could reach a nice campsite much closer to Pacifico Mountain. That would make tomorrow’s big climb easier. I liked this plan. I sat and ate some lunch in the shade, read my book, and generally relaxed for a while with my shoes off, socks drying in the breeze.
As I hiked along the road, I often saw the PCT itself, off to the side, either down below or up above me, undulating and winding its way along. I was glad to be where I was on a day as hot as this one was turning out to be. By the time I got to the end of my road walk, at Three Points, my elevation had dropped to 6000 feet, and was due to get down to 5200 by the time I reached camp. Hot! Oh well. I stopped for another break in the trailhead parking lot at Three Points, and let my feet breathe again. They were getting sweaty. And now I had no more excuses to cheat. The ACH peeled away from the PCT at this point. I would be heading into a wilderness area, where no vehicles were allowed. That was fine by me. After two days on asphalt, I had had enough. It was time to get my boots dusty!
By this time, the sun was declining a bit in the west, and the trail headed north, so I was getting the benefit of extra shade. Hiking was good under the trees, and there were more of them as I dropped down into a long valley. There was water flowing there, clean water, which made me a little sad after carrying all that weight from Little Jimmy. Too bad. I had to accept my decisions and move on.
When I got near the Sulphur Springs Campground, there was a side trail that left the PCT. It was labelled for use by equestrians on a sign. I didn’t have a horse, but I didn’t care. I was getting tired after a very long day of hiking, and all I really wanted was to find a spot to set up my tent.
There turned out to be some great sandy spots down there, and it looked like plenty of other PCT hikers had been here before me. I picked a spot and set up my tent. I inflated the air mattress and immediately lay down. I was whupped! It turned out that I had hiked over sixteen miles that day! Actual miles, that is. PCT-wise, I had technically hiked over twenty two miles! That road walk really helped. And here I was, six miles closer to finishing this section. Not counting tonight, my fifth night on Section D, I still had two nights and three days to go before reaching my car in Acton. It seemed so much closer to me now.
After checking the map a bit more, and marking my location on CalTopo, I sent Vicki a text via satellite, to let her know my minor change of planned camping spot, and that all was well with me. I sat up and cooked my dinner, right there in the tent. I had zero desire to walk another foot. I ate some salty chips and mixed up a drink of Gatorade powder, for the electrolytes. I munched on some candy, too, and read my Kindle in peace. It was very mellow down here, I decided.
Tomorrow I would be climbing up and over a mountain, and then up again some more, and it was due to be hot, so I set my alarm for early morning, to get a jump on the climb. This was pretty normal for me, and I probably didn’t need the alarm. Before I fell asleep, I thought about my decision to road hike the last two days. Was I really such a big cheater? Only if I cared, or was competing in a contest, I decided. “Hike your own hike” is what the thru hikers all say. There is no right or wrong, just getting out there and doing it is what really mattered. And having fun, of course.
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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