Groovin‘ in – the first weeks
„A beginning is a delicate time…“
-Frank Herbert, Dune-
Since I finally decided to hike the PCT and got a job I was thinking about it almost every day. Especially when work was very boring I imagined how it would be on trail and was looking forward to it. But this whole time the trail felt far away. I was doing my planning and preparation but the trail itself didn’t feel real. It was always something several months away.
But then it hit me like a truck. Suddenly it was only two weeks until my start date. I did a final shakedown hike with all my gear as I would take it to the trail and doubt conquered my mind. Isn’t this to big for me? Doing something like this without ever having traveled on my own let alone to another continent for this long of a time? Would I be able to hike enough miles? Motivate myself over and over again if I’m alone? Did I prepare enough? Or to much? Was my research adequate? Suddenly there were a million things still to do. But also the advice I read the most was „you’ll figure it out when you’re on trail“ so that was what I was going to do. The week before my start was kind of stressful and filled with „last‘s“. Last rehearsal, last time meeting my friends and so on. I was stressfully tidying my room because that was something I procrastinated for over a year and I didn’t want to leave it messy when embarking on this journey. I was slowly laying down all my hobbies, resulting in a kind of isolated state.
The start
Finally there it was: the day of my departure. I packed my backpack the event before and the next morning it began. My family brought me to the airport, I checked in and we had a little bit of time left that we spent in a café. Then it was time to go to the gate. I hugged my family one last time before entering the safety controls and the journey began. It was strange to think that I would not see them for not only a few weeks but several months. On my way to the gate I could not yet really comprehend, what was about to begin here. The first flight was only one hour and it did not feel like it was beginning yet. Then once I was sitting in the plane that would take me across the ocean for nearly twenty hours I began to realize the size of this journey. At the same time I felt sad for leaving home but also excited to finally start. It was a very weird feeling. Outside the window I could see Greenland and later parts of northern Canada giving me a feeling of the sheer size of this continent. In Seattle I had my first contact with the United states, even if it was just the airport personal and the view out the windows. Then I flew the distance I will be trying to walk over the duration of five or six months in a few hours while having a beautiful sunset over the Pacific Ocean. By the time I arrived in San Diego it was already dark and I walked through the night to my hostel. There I fell asleep immediately after a day that had nine extra hours. The next day I had to find my way around in an unknown city. I found out how the public bus works and made it to the REI and Walmart to get my resupply for the first days on the trail. All that bus travel and walking in a city made for cars took me much longer than expected so I had to stay in the hostel for another night. I felt lost but also optimistic after I worked this out already. The next day I met the first two other PCT hikers, which made me feel better immediately. It was so good talking to nice people trying to do the same thing as I was about to do. I swam in the Pacific Ocean for the first time in my life (another of the many “firsts” of SoCal) before taking the bus to Campo. It was a long and exhausting ride but I was rewarded with the nicest of people and a bunch of other hikers at the CLEEF campground. The community was wonderful, everyone was excited to start and it was just good vibes; this was exactly what I was looking for on this trail!
The first miles
Finally I stood at the southern terminus of the PCT, a moment I imagined for at least half a year. It felt strange. A journey of a lifetime was about to begin, but it didn’t feel special at all. I was standing at this monument, but it felt just normal. I don’t really know what I expected, but it was different. I took my photos and went back to the campground to get the stuff I left there to dry and start the trail. The rest of the day I was thinking about what I was doing here and imagining all the things I would experience in the next five months.
Those first days were an interesting time. There was a bubble of people starting around the same date and everyone was meeting at water sources or while doing breaks. Everyone was excited for what was coming and with our early start dates we were not in a hurry whatsoever so there was no need to go fast or do long days. The landscape was new and beautiful and I was figuring out my way to hike. Everything seemed ok.
This attitude without worries changed when I heard about the first storm coming up. It was in Mt. Laguna, where I was resupplying and someone told me that we would have to hurry to get to the next town before the storm that was coming up in two days. I was worried a little bit but also eager to find out how my gear would work in serious conditions, so I just kept going like I used to. It was one more night, the first one camping alone for me, with a little bit of wind, but nothing to bad. The next day I was meeting everyone else with mixed feelings about what was going to come. Some were hitching to the next town in fear of the storm, some stayed at a campground and some, like me, just continued walking. It was windy the whole day, but as long as it is just wind, I would be fine. Then it began…
The first storm
An hour earlier than expected by the weather forecast, while I was still walking along the mountain ridge the storm began. The whole afternoon there were dark clouds coming closerr and closer, but I was hoping to get down from the ridge before it hit us. Unfortunately this did not work and at least an hour away from my desired camp spot it hit me. It was unlike anything I ever experienced. Within minutes I was wet to the skin and with the wind it was also getting cold. This was not how I expected California to be. But with my tarp I could not camp up on the ridge so I needed to get down. I had to keep going. After an hour or so I finally descended finding what I thought to be kind of a good campsite. With some bushes around that I hoped would provide some protection from the wind I began to set my tarp up. The sandy ground did not hold the tent stakes very well especially being soaked from the rain, but with rocks on them I thought it would be fine. Finally I was in my sleeping bag having dry clothes on and warming up. This evening it would be only some snacks for dinner. In the night it got colder and colder until the rain turned into snow. This was where the real trouble began. The snow pushed the tarp down and the wind pulled tent stakes out of the ground several times making a whole corner of the tarp flip over. Each time this meant that I had to crawl out of my sleeping bag to rearrange it while all my stuff got wet. By the morning nearly everything was wet and I could only pack all the stuff up and start walking again. I had to make it to the next intersection where I could hitch to a campground an was to wet and cold to do anything but walk. Luckily the rain stopped and after a few hours I could stop and eat some chocolate at least. I made it to scissors crossing where I got picked up very quickly while all I could think of was a shower, some food and a warm dry place to stay. I got a cabin at the campground close by and after taking a hot shower and eating two meals at once I slept for a few hours after that I had enough energy to dry all my gear. The sleeping bag did not get too wet and I could dry it very fast. The cabin had a heater and after hanging it out for the night everything was dry again. Now I needed to figure out what to do from here on, because it could not stay like this. Another night like this and I felt I would quit.
After this experience I needed my first real zero and was lucky to have a campground where I could stay for two nights. I hitched to Julian to get my free slice of pie at “Mom’s” and take on my new mission: getting a tent. I was searching for a tent that was affordable while being light enough not to skyrocket my pack weight and had one day to research and order it. I am going to explain more about my choice in my gear post sometime in the future. Anyways I ended up ordering a Durston tent to Warner Springs which meant about four more days with the tarp in hope there would not be a storm in that time.
Julian to Warner Springs
The trail from Julian to Warner Springs was quite nice. The sun was out again like nothing happened and I met a lot of new people. Everyone had a story about their time in the storm and it was interesting to see how everyone was doing. The storm left some trauma in me, but for now the forecast looked good and it seemed to be alright. The trail looked different every day and the way to Warner Springs was one of the more beautiful sections so far with nice campsites, the first trail magic and wide grasslands around Eagle Rock. Slowly I was regaining my spirit and began to develop a routine of hiking everyday. In Warner Springs I had to wait a day longer than expected for my package to arrive so I had to do two nearos, not the worst that could happen. I got my new tent and started a bounce box with the tarp I am not using anymore and some other gear, because that is still cheaper and more convenient than sending it back to Germany.
The new tent made me feel better and I was looking forward to test it out. The next storm was already on its way so I was going to have plenty of opportunity for that. And again everything was going to be different than expected.
Warner Springs to Idyllwild
With my new tent I started the next section, being in SoCal Section B now. This might not be a lot but to me it felt like I was really making progress. I met a whole lot of people again at a campsite because all of them had to take some time off in one or another way. In the night the next storm started. But I had a tent now so I stayed dry and it was just rain. But still I had to start hiking again and again I was wet within minutes. But as long as I would keep hiking I would be warm, I thought. With the hours I went higher and higher and the rain turned into snow again (but in the middle of the day, not at night). Even while hiking I was getting cold and my only hope was Mikes place, a house in the middle of this desert with a water tank and at least some structure. By the time I arrived there I was freezing cold, but it turned out to be only an abandoned house, not a trail angels home like I hoped. But there was a little cabin where PCT hikers could stay and four other hikers I knew inside. I was barely able to open my backpack but as soon as I was in my sleeping bag I began to warm up. For now I had a dry place to stay and some friends around and tomorrow was something else to worry about. Later in the afternoon one of us discovered the abandoned RV in the backyard and we decided to move there in hope it would be warmer. Now it was five hikers in a dirty, rugged RV that smelled like mouse poop. But we were happy as could be: We were dry, warm and adventure is what we are seeking out here anyways, right?
The next days were kind of eventless. It was raining every now and then but not as much as the day before and There was no storm in the night. In the afternoon of the second day after the RV I made it to the road to Paradise Valley Cafe and Idyllwild which meant a campground and a hot shower for me. By the road there was someone offering me a ride immediately. So quick, that I forgot my trekking poles by the road. Once I realized that he even went back there with me but they were already gone. I left a comment on FarOut and got dropped off at the campground. But without my poles I could not pitch my tent. It was quite late already and without any other contact I decided to stay in one of the restrooms (my first of many privy bivys). But again I had a dry place to stay and potable water and a toilet close by so it could be worse. The next morning someone already texted me about my trekking poles and even brought them to town. For now I was feeling fine but was unsure how to go on in the long term, because the next section was San Jacinto.
In a restaurant I met all the other hikers currently in town and we had an emergency meeting, discussing how to go on from here. The snow on San Jacinto was far to bad to keep going northbound and we discussed different ideas what to do. To find out what I ended up doing, follow and read the next post coming up.
I am still finding out, what format of blogging works for me, but hope you enjoyed this more journal-like post. I apologize for the long gap since the last one, I don’t have as much time on trail as I thought I would. I hope to post more frequently in the future and catch up with the posts.
See you on trail or in the next blog post!
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Comments 1
WOW I’m glad you’re okay. California weather can be literally anything any day anytime of the year. You could unexpectedly get two feet of snow. You could have forest fires, floods, severe and dangerous lightning, sideways sleet, 110° weather in March or well below freezing in July, water sources can be non-existent or contaminated. You have to consider altitude as well and how much more severe it can be at higher. Please plan for all of this it sounds like you don’t know the area. Have an emergency plan and carry a satellite radio. Have a plan…. Once you get hypothermia or heat stroke your brain will not be functioning well you need to plan an advance to completely avoid these. Best wishes and care on your dream trip.