[Day numbers may be a little off]
The next day was simple. I hitched into Tehachapi, ran into some new and old faces. The big news was a new forest fire, the Chimney Fire, which was causing a closure of the PCT from mile 652 to 702. Later in the day I determined I could keep hiking and get off into town at mile 652 if the fire was still active. I showered that night and prepared to leave the next afternoon.
What followed was a stretch of some of the worst hiking I've suffered through this far. After a bit of night hiking, I cowboy camped at 10:30 pm and got up at 4 am. I had picked up a plastic Coke bottle of water on the trail. I could use some more water, and it was litter. The trail continued up for a thousand feet of gain. When I topped out, I poured the bottle into my Platypus bottle (flexible plastic bottles that can be rolled up when empty) and a piney scent filled the air. Not water. There were now two separate layers of liquid in the Platy. Blobs of clear liquid stuck to the inside surface of the bottle. It seemed to be an oily fuel. It wasn't alcohol though and it wasn't white gas, which smell and look different. I had to assess my situation. I had contaminated my last water container and had no drinkable water. The next water source was 12 miles down the trail; I couldn't get that far safely. The container was ruined and I couldn't continue 3 days to the next town with only 4 liters of total capacity. I needed to return to Tehachapi for new containers, which meant I needed to descend, and doing that would require some water as well. I'd need to bum some off other hikers. It was mid-day and this unplanned trip back to town would cost me most of the day. All of this was realized in an instant. It was annoying, but I still had plenty of days to get to Kennedy Meadows at mile 702. So I began to head back down the hill.
A hiker gave me a liter of water which was plenty. Then I ran into a couple, who, after hearing my plight, gave me another 2-liter Platypus. They gave me some more water and I was back on track.
After 4 hours of punishingly hot mid-day hiking uphill, I reached the water source. It was a concrete cistern about a foot deep. The water was covered in bright green algae, and mosquito larvae and tadpoles were wriggling throughout. Five hikers were drawing from it and filtering it. An Australian girl said she was "excited" for this flavorful water. Around twenty others were lying around siesta'ing. I filled up, treated my water, chatted with hikers, and slept for an hour.
The rest of the hike to mile 652 was a grind. Wake up at the ass crack of dawn, rinse and repeat. One night we reached camp at 10:30 pm with winds howling past Joshua trees. Tents were warping in the wind and looked ready to take off, but all held fast. Other parties showed up shortly, sweeping their headlamps around the dirt and manzanita trees, illuminating our tents like paper lanterns. Presente (Portlander I've been leapfrogging on the trail with in the past few weeks) would later describe the feeling that night as being on another planet. We were explorers in the dark. This was one of those tough times in the wilderness that gives way to a sense of wonder.
The next day was a smooth walk to the highway where mile 652 crosses. Stuck my thumb out and got a ride from a young French couple. They were touring the US for two months and liked it thus far. They dropped me off in Ridgecrest, which was a broiling 106 °F. Resupplied with 6,700 calories for the 50 mile trip to Kennedy Meadows (150 cal/mile, had 800 cal leftover), and returned to the trail the next day.
The next day was simple. I hitched into Tehachapi, ran into some new and old faces. The big news was a new forest fire, the Chimney Fire, which was causing a closure of the PCT from mile 652 to 702. Later in the day I determined I could keep hiking and get off into town at mile 652 if the fire was still active. I showered that night and prepared to leave the next afternoon.
What followed was a stretch of some of the worst hiking I've suffered through this far. After a bit of night hiking, I cowboy camped at 10:30 pm and got up at 4 am. I had picked up a plastic Coke bottle of water on the trail. I could use some more water, and it was litter. The trail continued up for a thousand feet of gain. When I topped out, I poured the bottle into my Platypus bottle (flexible plastic bottles that can be rolled up when empty) and a piney scent filled the air. Not water. There were now two separate layers of liquid in the Platy. Blobs of clear liquid stuck to the inside surface of the bottle. It seemed to be an oily fuel. It wasn't alcohol though and it wasn't white gas, which smell and look different. I had to assess my situation. I had contaminated my last water container and had no drinkable water. The next water source was 12 miles down the trail; I couldn't get that far safely. The container was ruined and I couldn't continue 3 days to the next town with only 4 liters of total capacity. I needed to return to Tehachapi for new containers, which meant I needed to descend, and doing that would require some water as well. I'd need to bum some off other hikers. It was mid-day and this unplanned trip back to town would cost me most of the day. All of this was realized in an instant. It was annoying, but I still had plenty of days to get to Kennedy Meadows at mile 702. So I began to head back down the hill.
A hiker gave me a liter of water which was plenty. Then I ran into a couple, who, after hearing my plight, gave me another 2-liter Platypus. They gave me some more water and I was back on track.
After 4 hours of punishingly hot mid-day hiking uphill, I reached the water source. It was a concrete cistern about a foot deep. The water was covered in bright green algae, and mosquito larvae and tadpoles were wriggling throughout. Five hikers were drawing from it and filtering it. An Australian girl said she was "excited" for this flavorful water. Around twenty others were lying around siesta'ing. I filled up, treated my water, chatted with hikers, and slept for an hour.
The rest of the hike to mile 652 was a grind. Wake up at the ass crack of dawn, rinse and repeat. One night we reached camp at 10:30 pm with winds howling past Joshua trees. Tents were warping in the wind and looked ready to take off, but all held fast. Other parties showed up shortly, sweeping their headlamps around the dirt and manzanita trees, illuminating our tents like paper lanterns. Presente (Portlander I've been leapfrogging on the trail with in the past few weeks) would later describe the feeling that night as being on another planet. We were explorers in the dark. This was one of those tough times in the wilderness that gives way to a sense of wonder.
The next day was a smooth walk to the highway where mile 652 crosses. Stuck my thumb out and got a ride from a young French couple. They were touring the US for two months and liked it thus far. They dropped me off in Ridgecrest, which was a broiling 106 °F. Resupplied with 6,700 calories for the 50 mile trip to Kennedy Meadows (150 cal/mile, had 800 cal leftover), and returned to the trail the next day.
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