On my 40th day on the PCT I hiked up and over Pacifico Mountain, dropped down to Mill Creek Summit, then climbed back up onto Little Mount Gleason during a late October heat wave.
From PCT mile 406.7 to 420.8 Total: 14.1 miles 10/20
I woke up early, as usual, on a cool morning in the Sulphur Springs Campground. I ate breakfast and packed up my gear. This was a regular routine by now. I was excited to spend the entire day on the PCT, with no road walking like the last two days. I also had a new plan, thanks to the six extra miles the road walk gained me. I was originally going to camp on the far side of Pacifico Mountain, high on its western shoulder, but now I would be able to continue onward beyond Mill Creek Summit. This meant that I would have an extra climb to make, during the heat of the afternoon, but hopefully it would be worth it in the end. It still sounded better than camping early, bored silly, at a shadeless spot in the roasting heat. With that in mind, I got started early, hoping to get as much climbing under my belt as possible before the sun arrived.
After hiking up the old paved forest road to the campground, the trail ascended steadily for the next three miles. I trudged onward, one step at at time. The views got better as I climbed, mostly views back toward the high peaks of the Angeles National Forest where I recently hiked. The sun came out, strong and hot. It felt good at first, taking off the morning chill, but I had a feeling that it wasn’t going to be my friend later on that day. I hiked and hiked, following one switchback after another, tilting my hat from right to left so the brim would always be blocking the sun from my face. Mostly my nose, which was a tender spot with me. I had freckles on it as a child, but they got burned off long ago. Sunscreen works, but shade is best.
I was happy to take a break at Fountainhead Spring, my day’s source for drinking water. Vicki and I camped near here back in 2020, and we drank this water happily. I didn’t bother filtering it, and survived to tell you the tale. Both times. Tasty stuff, and cold! I drank several big swallows right away, and even poured some on my head. Aaahhh!
My backpack felt heavy again, although not as bad as earlier in the trip, now that most of my food was gone. Only two more nights to go and I would be at my car the next day, then home. It seemed like a readily attainable goal at this point. Back when I started this section, it seemed like it was forever away, over a hundred miles, in fact.
The next phase of the day was to finish climbing Pacifico Mountain. The PCT made a wide loop around it to the north, never quite reaching the summit. This is a typical PCT motif. Ambitious peakbaggers get the option to conquer various mountains along the way but the rest of us hikers don’t have to. We both get good views, however. Now that I was up in the pine forest, there were patches of shade and cooler air. I was glad that this area didn’t burn in recent years. Very pretty.
Eventually, the trail intersected Pacifico Mountain Road, a dirt forest road. Vicki and I took this road downhill last time rather than the trail, as it was raining and blowing hard. There was no visibility regardless, so we took the easier route. But not this time. I stopped and found a spot in the shade and got out my Kindle and my lunchtime Pop Tart. It was all downhill from here to Mill Creek, so I deserved a break.
While I sat there, a small quad ATV drove up. A deer hunter was driving it. We spoke for a while. He hadn’t had any luck yet, but he was hoping. I mentioned the hunters I’d seen along Blue Ridge, and that I hadn’t seen anyone get a deer, although I heard one story about Fish and Game arresting some idiots who left a carcass on the side of the road. Not having a legal hunting tag is one thing, but wasting an animal is a crime.
After he left, I remembered to get out my trusty el-cheapo orange poncho, and wrapped it around my backpack. For the next day or two I would be hiking within prime hunting grounds, where forest roads gave easy access to hunters. Better safe than sorry, as they say.
After that, it was time to descend about 1800 feet, from just below 7000 down to 5000 feet elevation. This would increase the temperature by almost ten degrees. What was comfortable up here on the mountain would be toasty down there on the saddle. I knew all this, but it didn’t matter. My car was forty miles away, and I could only reach it by hiking. “Might as well get it over with,” I told myself, and away I went. And it was a lovely hike. At first there were trees every so often, and the views were excellent.
When I neared the site where I originally planned to camp, I stopped and laughed. It was way too early. I looked to the west, and I could see the long ridge that my new plan called for. It led toward Mount Gleason, which would be tomorrow’s problem. But first I had to drop down into the valley where the Angeles Forest Highway crested. The trail made a down-and-up, but the road was the opposite. Both met at Mill Creek Summit.
As the trees turned to chapparal, I realized that I could see Angeles Forest Highway. This was a popular commuter route from Palmdale to Glendale, for those that hated the freeway’s congestion, and also for the motorcycles and fast cars that wanted to joyride on a winding mountain road. But what it really meant was that I should have cell signal. I took a selfie and sent it out to friends and family. Then I continued downhill with no more opportunities for shade of any kind, unless I hunkered under a bush. It began to get rather warm.
My Far Out app said that there was a water spigot in the trailhead parking lot just above the Mill Creek Fire Station, so I veered off the trail. There was a typical forest service pit toilet there, and a functioning water faucet! This was luxury. I was using more water than I expected in the heat, and I would surely be sweating buckets on the upcoming climb. I set my pack down in the shade of a bushy pine. I went over and filled all of my water jugs again. I had to make it all the way to tomorrow night’s campsite before I would find a clean source of water. There was one tiny creek still running along the way, but I hoped to avoid using it if possible. Then I sat down on the curb in the shade and got out my Kindle. It was time for my final big break of the day. I let my socks and sweaty shirt evaporate in the dry, mellow breeze. Life was good, even if the accommodations were less than stellar.
I got about as cooled off as I was likely to get. I walked over to the spigot and put my head underneath it. I wet my hat, too, and my shirt became soggy with the excess dripping from my hair. It was time to move on. Just three more miles and 700 feet of climbing. I could do this, I told myself. It was a fact. I headed down the hill to the highway crossing, Mill Creek on my left and Mount Gleason Road across the highway, heading uphill on the ridge.
My pack was heavy and the sun was hot, but I trudged onward. I didn’t worry about speed. Heatstroke wouldn’t happen if I took it easy. Whenever I could, I paused in the low shade from a bush. There was a bit of a breeze, which helped immensely. The water on my hair evaporated and was replaced with sweat. I would definitely be drinking more Gatorade than usual tonight.
Once I made the initial climb, the trail turned west, along the northern slope of the ridge, and the sun’s angle got better. Pine trees appeared, and there was more shade. I was feeling much better by that point. I saw Mount Gleason Road down below me, and the PCT paralleled it, much like it had a few days ago on Blue Ridge. I saw a few trucks driving by, and I had a feeling that they were hunters. I had my orange poncho deployed, but I still kept out of their sight when possible. Why ask for trouble? Better to act like a very shy, very orange Deer.
The sun was westering when I arrived at the campsite shown on the Far Out app. There were several tent spots available. I chose the one down the hill a bit, the one with the best view and the most wind protection. I hadn’t seen many SOBO hikers all day, and I didn’t expect to meet any here. They would probably be more interested in the water spigot at Mill Creek Summit.
I took off my backpack and got out the tent. I set it up and got my sleeping gear ready. I was tired, but a happy kind of tired. I only hiked 14 miles, a bit less than my standard fifteen, but the extra climbing made up for it. Tomorrow would be the full fifteen miles, and my final day would only be eight, all downhill, thanks to yesterday’s road walk. I might even get home by noon that day. I texted Vicki with my location and general plan, and then sat down inside the tent. It felt great to take my shoes off and rest for a bit.
I followed the usual dinner protocol, with a bit of extra salt. Tomorrow was supposed to be warm as well, and I would be at a similar elevation, in the 5500-6500 range, plus a final drop at the end down to 4000 feet. It didn’t look too bad. I called Vicki on the phone as my signal was so good, and we both enjoyed it. Solo hiking is a lonely business, especially when you are the one and only NOBO hiker on the trail. That’s what I get for stopping my thru-hike early, in May. Oh well.
I drank some fluids, ate a bag of salty chips, and munched on some candy while reading my book and staring at the view to the north. The sunset light was pretty. I changed into my night clothing and stuck my legs in the sleeping bag. I left the tent door wide open so that I would be able to see the lights of Palmdale later on. And then I fell asleep, happy to have stayed on the trail all day, like a proper PCT hiker, and glad that I made the extra effort to reach this excellent campsite. It’s nice when hard work gets rewarded.
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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