Welcome back to my blog! I’m thrilled that you’re reading this third post about my PCT journey.

Introduction

This time, I’ll be continuing the journey between Julian and Idyllwild, which was left hanging in my previous post. But it was left hanging for a good reason! The birth of my trail name, Roadrunner, something that took me completely by surprise and I absolutely loved it.

In “PCT STAGE 02: Julian to Idyllwild part one,” we left off with Steph, Claire, and Perfect Pitch at a water cache in the middle of our second day hiking together. On that day, our goal was Montezuma Valley Road, which was a significant distance for our nascent PCT journey.

For the second part of the day, I decided to stick to my usual pace. Part of me needed to process everything that had happened with my trail name and what it all meant. As you already know, the way I assimilate, incorporate, and process things that happen to me is by walking. I’m not the only one who experiences this; we all need our moments and places to connect with our emotions and organize our thoughts. In this case, I was a bit lost. The connection to my name seemed amazing and inexplicable. There were hundreds of possible names for me, and I even thought about some before starting the trail. But “Roadrunner” had never crossed my mind, nor had I thought about the wonderful connection with my friend Romina “Coyote” Mena.

Milestone

I was so absorbed in my thoughts about the universe’s coincidences and how everything seemed too perfect to be random that I almost missed an important milestone. Turning a corner on the trail, I encountered a French hiker who said to me, “We did it!! We completed the first 100 miles of the trail.”

Indeed, it was true. A pile of rocks marked this important milestone for those of us who had just embarked on this adventure. It’s a way to measure our progress, to materialize the countless hours of putting one foot in front of the other over days. The reality is that remarkably far can be reached in this way.

I arrived at the campsite near Montezuma Road Valley around 1 pm. It seems like I went into Roadrunner mode and got there faster than I thought. Upon arrival, there were quite a few people camping, so I looked for an area where the four of us could set up our tents.

Water filtering

Water filtering is a common task for us hikers. We’re usually always on the lookout for a water source, and it’s great when we can camp near one. That was the case with this campsite, a vast flat area with a very good water source.

I sat on a rock, observing the lengthy process of collecting water, filtering it, and transferring it into a bottle. The whole process takes between 5 and 10 minutes. Being there makes you appreciate the convenience of everyday city life, where you can simply turn on a tap and have running water or fill a jug in your kitchen. In essence, countless things we’ve built as humanity, which we consider common and ordinary, seem normal to us. But in reality, a lot of work by countless people went into making those things normal, so that drop of water could reach our taps.Furthermore, that drop of water has left its original environment, inevitably causing environmental impact in our surroundings due to all the infrastructure required. I don’t consider this inherently wrong; it’s part of what we’ve built as an organized society. However, what I believe is that we must not forget about this entire process. We should value and be grateful for all the work of those people and be thankful to nature for allowing us to use that drop of water.Therefore, I believe we all have an obligation to take care of our resources and be responsible for our consumption

All together again

While I continued observing and pondering the topic of water, Steph arrived at the campsite. I vividly recall her happy expression! She had achieved her goal of hiking more miles, and the best part was that she felt physically great, even considering hiking a few more miles. However, we agreed that she had done enough for the day.

Together, we set up the tents in an area that seemed suitable, collecting some stones just in case they were needed for Claire and Perfect Pitch’s tent. But as we were doing so, they arrived, and thus, the family was complete.

My cookset

We join with another group and cooked together. It was a lot of fun; everyone laughed at the size of my cooking set lol, joking if it’s meant to feed an entire family. The truth is, for this activity, it’s quite large indeed, but it’s what I have and use for my treks across South America. Additionally, I built a wind shield and a cover for it, all using a car sunshade. Honestly, the whole set works very well, and I’m happy with it.

The night was spectacular! Very little wind, starry, beautiful. Everyone set up their tents except for Perfect Pitch, who chose that night for his first cowboy camping experience. On the PCT, it’s called that way to sleep without a tent; you only use your sleeping pad and sleeping bag, it’s like sleeping in a hotel with billions of stars.

The sad part of that night is that we were going to end up parting ways. They were going to resupply in Warner Springs, needing to pick up some packages there and in another nearby town along the route. I had already planned to continue straight to Idyllwild, so I had all my food with me. I remember Perfect Pitch was infinitely happy because Steph had ordered a burrito from Punker Cafe for him. It’s incredible that they deliver burritos to you on the trail. Since the cafe was close to the route, I decided to stop by there in the morning.

The farewell

I am naturally an early riser, so getting up at dawn to start walking is not difficult for me. Since we weren’t going to walk together, I woke up early, packed my backpack, and left. Before I left, I wrote a note to the three of them, expressing the immense affection they had shown me from the very beginning. I regret not having made a portrait of each of them.

Perfect Pitch was always smiling and making jokes! His stories and the lively way he told them are etched in my memory. He was a very fun person.

Steph is incredibly kind and proper, with a strong desire for self-improvement to reach the blessed 20 miles we aimed for each day.

Claire, what can I say about her? Her joy, the way she listens attentively, and her ability to always make you laugh. She also gave me my trail name, and I will be forever indebted to her.

Heres comes the sun

I started walking alone. To be honest, it felt very strange, and I was even sad about it.

The sun rose and began to warm the cold morning. The valley took on a perfect golden hue. In the middle of the vast valley stood a solitary tree, casting an impressive shadow. I felt very represented by that tree; it was the perfect scene of what I felt at that moment. I was alone, but alone in the vast beauty of the Pacific Crest Trail.

The missing Rock

I was so absorbed in my thoughts—something my girlfriend often notices and tells me I do, hiding in my head—that I didn’t realize the photo showed the turnoff for Eagle Rock. I simply took a picture of that spectacular sunrise and continued on my way without taking the detour.

I missed the most amazing rock formation that must exist! Today, I can’t believe it. At that moment, I didn’t even realize my mistake; I just kept walking through that beautiful plain.

Campsite in the nowhere

That day ended at a campsite quite far from everyone. It seemed like I had deliberately wanted to isolate myself from the other hikers. This gave me time to think about how I wanted to experience my PCT. Do I want to walk alone? Do I want a group, like I always had on my hikes in South America? What do you want, Diego?

It was clear that I couldn’t answer those questions. At that moment, I thought of someone—my friend from afar, High Five. He was probably a few miles ahead, but maybe I could catch up with him in a few days. To do that, I would need to push a little beyond 20 miles a day.

Zac

That day came to an end in a rather desolate place. However, another person arrived at the site. His name was Zac, trail name Candyman, and we had a very entertaining conversation there. He had completed the Appalachian Trail, another well-known long-distance trek in the United States, so we spent a lot of time talking about his experience. He told me his plan for the next day, which involved going to “Little Bear Hostel.” Unlike what I was used to, this place supposedly allowed free camping, offered WiFi, and other amenities. It sounded like a great idea. The only thing Candyman clarified was that he didn’t get up early, lol. So, we said we might meet there.

Road to Little Bear Hostel

To change things up a bit, I started before dawn that day—haha, you know me. The meeting point with Candyman was about 22.5 miles away, so it required a good effort to get there.

Desert flowers are truly impressive. The intense diversity of colors ranges from violet to yellow, all within incredibly resilient vegetation. It’s really striking.

The Hostel

I arrived at Little Bear Hostel after a rather fun detour from the trail. It was a zigzagging descent through bushes and trees. This was a sharp contrast to the always smooth PCT, and it reminded me more of my treks in South America. It was a lot of fun. The host, Joanna, welcomed us warmly. I say “us” because, at that moment, Mary, another hiker I had met on various occasions, also arrived. The process of meeting a new hiker on the trail is incredible! You hear so many different stories from various parts of the world, each with different reasons that, by the mysteries of life, brought us to the same place.

Paradise Valley Café

Zac arrived that night. A thousand things happened to him, but he made it. The next day, I found myself without common objectives again, back to my state of the last few days, which involved walking as much as possible to see if I could catch up with High Five. Around 10 a.m., I managed to contact High Five. He was more than 15 miles ahead, unreachable for me, but he made a recommendation: “Diego, go to Paradise Valley Cafe (PVC) for lunch.” I liked the idea, so I headed there.

The place was beautifully decorated. Everything was painted wood in shades of red and blue—colors of American patriots, or at least that’s how I interpreted it. Coming from a country without a significant military history like the United States, I found all the references to war and especially to their war veterans quite striking. Over time, I realized that these references are actually tributes to their heroes, not a glorification of violence.

This place was clearly accustomed to and adapted for a large flow of people, particularly hikers. I sat at the table, and the first thing that happened was the waitress brought a huge glass of ice water. At first, I thought, “Oh no, I’ll have to pay for this glass of water,” but then I realized it was a common service here. This never happened to me in my country. In fact, I might even seem stingy, but several times I haven’t ordered a drink at a restaurant in Uruguay. If they offered free water, those several times would probably become “almost always.” I believe it’s not just me; people in my country are more frugal than in other places.

The burrito

Abandoning my usual austerity, I ordered a burrito and a light cranberry beer, a delight! The place was crowded, and a lady approached me to ask if we could share the table. Of course, I agreed. I thought it was great; it’s something I’m not used to, but it doesn’t make sense to occupy a table for four with just one person! Plus, you can take the opportunity to chat.

Easy hitch

I finished my breakfast, left the restaurant, and grabbed my backpack. I had to walk a couple of kilometers along the road to get back to the trail. In the parking lot, a man asked if I was going to Idyllwild and offered me a ride. I told him no because I was heading to the trail, which was in the opposite direction on the same road. He then offered to take me to the trail instead. I accepted, and we went together.

He asked me, “Where is that flag on your backpack from?”

“Uruguay,” I replied.

He had no idea where my country was—whether it was in South America, Africa, Europe, or a Caribbean island. I explained that my country is in South America, surrounded by two giant countries, Argentina and Brazil, and that our main economic sector is cattle. It’s always interesting to mention that in Uruguay there are 3 million people and 10 million cows; it sounds funny, but it’s true.

Talking with the man, he told me that most hikers were going from PVC to Idyllwild to get their snow gear. He guessed it was because they were heading to Mount San Jacinto, which was covered in snow.

Back to the trail

My plan was to continue on the trail to Saddle Junction. Looking at that photo now, it feels like a premonition of what was coming, something I clearly did not expect to face, snow. Even now, the word “Saddle Junction” gives me a bit of a shudder, but I don’t want to get ahead of the story. The fact that many hikers were going from PVC to Idyllwild meant I encountered a lot of new people. These different strategies led to this section being a point of congestion. I felt a bit embarrassed to say my trail name at that time because people thought I was super fast, but that wasn’t true.

Moreover, on this day when the trail climbed a lot, I struggled to walk.

Views of Pine Mountains

It was more than 1,000 meters of continuous ascent. I felt like the burrito I had eaten was weighing me down. I noticed I was uncoordinated, swaying from side to side.

The pains

That photo represents everything I was experiencing—eyes fixed on the trail, trying to focus my mind on what I had to do: move forward. Step by step, my strides grew shorter, trying to keep my breathing steady. Sometimes I managed it, but most of the time I didn’t. The swaying grew worse, and I had to stop to regain my concentration.

“Diego, walk straight, what you’re doing is harder,” I said to me. I found myself taking more frequent breaks, noticing the sun setting faster. I felt odd, a peculiar exhaustion, struggling to concentrate. During one pause, I remember looking at my legs and thanking them for never giving up on me and for pushing forward.

Finally, I made it. I was at the summit. The day was windy, so I had to descend a bit to prevent the wind from blowing away my tent. The trail became densely vegetated, which I didn’t expect at that altitude. So, along with my swaying walk, I had to deal with branches hindering my progress and snagging my backpack. But after 45 minutes, I reached the camping spot.

Happy that the day had ended, I chose to cowboy camp because there wasn’t much space to set up the tent. I collapsed and slept with an incredible view of the city lights of Palm Springs.

Last day: Saddle Junction

This new day started with a clear goal in my mind: reaching Idyllwild. With the destination set, I checked the distance and only had to cover 22km to reach Saddle Junction and then descend to the town. Compared to the kilometers I had been hiking, this section seemed manageable.

I started walking, feeling energized again, but I noticed something wasn’t right. I didn’t feel fully myself. Soon after, I began to experience a sharp pain in the area of my left shin. It hurt with every step, especially when I tried to lift the front of my foot. This was a new physical problem I had never experienced before.

The fear

My mind began to crumble. It was too much to handle—the pain, the exhaustion, and the length of the journey. At that moment, a little devil appeared, a negative mental dialogue lurking in the darkest depths of my brain. It told me: “You can’t handle this, you’re not capable, you don’t have what it takes to face such a challenge, you’re nothing, you won’t make it, quit.” The word “quit” echoed in my mind, starting as a bothersome buzz, then becoming the only thing I heard.In that state, I turned to my mantra, the one I shared in my post: “Don’t Give Up.” I recited it aloud, as if to bring myself back to reality and pull my mind out of the catacombs it had descended into. I sought the solution to my problem there, and a part of my mantra echoed strongly:

Don’t give up… even if fear bites… Don’t give up.

I realized I was afraid—afraid of failing at what I called ‘my dream.’ Fear of what others would say. I had spread the idea of hiking the PCT everywhere: to my girlfriend, my friends, my schoolmates, my family, my social media. I even had the audacity to write in a blog! Lol, where thousands of people learned the details of my preparation and motivation to be here fulfilling ‘a dream.’ My trail family had called me Roadrunner. What a lie, Diego! That name is too big for you.

A tiny light

My mantra helped me see that, and with that, my rational mind gained clarity and realized the ridiculousness of its negative thoughts. Who cares if you give up? Your friends will be sad for you! But they will support you! That’s what it kept telling me. There, I started to think about how I could solve the problem ahead of me, and I thought about leaning on several people:

• The pain in my leg, I could discuss with Matias Rivero, a teacher I had in Uruguay who knows a lot about physical education and particularly about human mobility.
• The sudden negative feelings, I could talk about with my friend Romi Mena, my dear Coyote who had inspired me to be here. Also, I had a pending talk with her to discuss my nutrition.
• The most urgent thing I needed to address was this sense of failure; that I had to talk about with my friends.

While sorting through my thoughts, an unexpected strategy came to mind—a tool I hadn’t intended to use so early in my PCT adventure: taking a zero day in Idyllwild. In Thru-hiking terminology, a zero day means taking a rest day, during which you don’t progress on the trail

Sending messages

In a location where I had cell signal, I messaged Matias and Romina, letting them know that if they had time tomorrow, I needed to talk to them. To my friends, I sent a video explaining what was going on and telling them I was going to take a zero day. The supportive responses were immediate: “You’re making an incredible effort; you definitely need to take a day off! I’d even say take at least two days off.”

That positive energy returned my mind to a healthier place, where I could move forward with renewed vigor. I walked to Idyllwild with a renewed sense of determination.

The eye that sees between the lines

Amidst all the supportive messages from my friends, one resonated in my mind for a long time. It was a message that I couldn’t find an answer to until I started writing these lines for you on the blog. My friend Pedro, true to his style of leaving you thinking, said: “Diego, have you watched the video you sent again? Look at it and think about what you’re trying to achieve with it.” My immediate response to him was that I wanted to let you know that I was going to take a zero day that I hadn’t planned. But the truth is that my ego at that moment was blocking what I was really seeking. I was seeking acceptance from my group of friends; I was seeking support and letting them know that I wasn’t okay. But the underlying message was to relieve myself of the pressure that Diego could fail. I think this is my deepest reflection on what happened, and I feel that Pedro saw it and guided me to think about it. Not everyone sees these things because they are not the immediate solution to the problem, which was simply to keep walking a little further. This was a much deeper issue of my personality, which I have to work on and improve, and partly that’s why I’m here. So once again, THANK YOU PEDRO for always being there and with your keen eye seeing things that I didn’t even see and communicating them to me so that I can work on them! Without giving me your answer but helping me to find it myself.

An unexpected encounter! The snow

It’s funny to think that with all the signs, warnings from fellow hikers, and comments about the snow, I say that this event was unexpected. Let’s just say it’s quite common for me; often, people tell me things and I listen, but I don’t really absorb the message until much later. In this case, I hadn’t absorbed the message “watch out, there’s snow” and that it would entail extra effort to continue. Boy, was it extra effort! The snow was incredibly tough for me at that moment.

In my country, it doesn’t snow, so snow-covered terrain is unfamiliar to me. In my previous treks, I’ve had few encounters with snow, mostly brief. This time, however, I found myself traversing about 6 miles of snowy terrain. Initially, it was enjoyable, but as fatigue set in, the challenge grew.

Fortunately, I encountered a group of hikers, and together, we tackled the trail. I felt awkward, heavy-footed, lacking coordination, and slow. Yet, walking in a group helped minimize these challenges, and we successfully reached Saddle Junction.

Another unexpected encounter! my friends

In the area, several tents were pitched in small snow-free spots. To my surprise, I ran into a great friend! Expendable was there! We chatted for about 15 minutes; he had had trouble with his tent and managed to get a new one. Additionally, his sunscreen had exploded, causing a mess on all his documents, including his passport. There was another person there too! The person I had been trying to catch up with since I wasn’t with my trail family anymore! HIGH FIVE! I couldn’t believe I had caught up with him! Especially given my precarious physical condition.

Incredible, right? Obviously, the logical decision was to set up my tent and head down together the next morning to Idyllwild. However, as is obvious, my mind wasn’t entirely clear for making logical decisions.

As a result, I decided to head down Devil Slide to Idyllwild. Fortunately, some trail angels gave me a ride from the parking lot to the town.

Bad decisions again

We arrived in the city at 7 pm. They drove me to the Idyllwild Campground for camping, but it was full. They decided to take me to another campground on the outskirts of the city, but it was also full. They took me to a church where camping in the yard was allowed, but it was already closed. They had a dinner downtown, so we went there, and they suggested I look for hikers who might have a place to stay. We said goodbye, and I thanked them immensely for what they had done for me.

My mountain trek turned into a night city trek, searching for accommodation in a town that was already asleep. Literally, I couldn’t find anything. The hikers already had their rooms full. I found an American Legion (where I had stayed in Julian), but it was closed. The most concrete option was at the supermarket! Talking to the cashier, she called three places, and one of them said they had a room in a cabin for $170. I can’t afford that kind of accommodation here; my saved money would disappear too quickly.

The trail provides

It was already 11 pm, and there was no one on the street; everything was closed. As I walked, I texted my trail family to tell them what was going on. Steph responded, and she was at the Idyllwild Campground! She had decided to go from PVC to Idyllwild to get her snow gear. She told me the campground was full but advised that to secure a spot, you have to go early in the morning when the rangers arrive, and they can help you find a place.

With not many alternatives, I decided to head to the Idyllwild Campground and sit at the entrance. I crawled into my sleeping bag and eventually fell asleep; I was exhausted and hadn’t eaten dinner.

I woke up to the first rays of sunlight. A squirrel was scampering around the parking lot; I took a photo of it with my phone while it was perched on a tree with the light shining on its back.

I feel like the trail truly provided for me; I received countless helps during these tough days for me, and it was me who made decisions not entirely accurate. For example, going to the city at night when you don’t know where to stay. You learn from mistakes. That morning, I felt like those things had happened; I had felt pretty bad about everything that had happened. But still, there I was, ready to take my rest day and see if I would continue on the trail. By that point, my idea of giving up had vanished; now I only thought about how to do better.

Ending

In my next post, my idea is to tell you about the wonderful zero day I had in Idyllwild, the great help I received from Matias and Romi, and at the same time, tell you about my decision. Which obviously was not to give up and continue pursuing my dream of hiking the Pacific Crest Trail. See you in the next post, which I hope to make sooner than this one. Greetings to all, thank you very much for being there and being part of my adventure.