Agua Dulce

So, here I am in Agua Dulce. Things have been going pretty well. That stay in Wrightwood was pretty amazing; what an awesome family, to open up their house to a bunch of total strangers, smelly hiker trash no less; cook them dinner and breakfast, let us get cleaned up, and want nothing in the bargain. I admit I was almost waiting for a sermon or something, but that kind of cynicism is slowly fading from my mind. Sometimes you run across such things in life, and it just restores you, deep down. There are still good people out there.

We were able to escape the Wrightwood vortex, though, by around 9 AM, when we began hiking towards Mt. Baden-Powell, our last big mountain before the Sierras. After lunch at its foot, K-Bomb and I began the climb, with Drop and Roll right behind, and Ninja and Scott a bit further back. It was a slow, steady ascent; I counted 19 switchbacks before the snow drifts consolidated into a single snowfield, and we began moving across it straight for the summit, as the trail was lost. That was some work, as we still had about a third of the way to go; that's what happens when the trail is on the north side of the mountain. After being gravely dissappointed by a false-summit, we finally found the summit spur trail and went to the top, which was snow free and provided a 360 degree view on this bluebird day. We could see all the way back to Mt San Jacinto, and had the smog been less, we could have seen the Pacific. After another lunch break, we began a ridge traverse over more snow, and we (K-Bomb, Drop and Roll, and I) did our first glissade, which is when you slide down the snow on your butt. It's cold but quick: K-Bomb says, "work smarter not harder."

That was a short mileage day, due to the late start and the big climb, only 14 miles, but we made up for it. Two days ago we had a longish waterless stretch, 18 miles from where we were eating lunch, meaning a dry camp and a lot of pack weight. As we ate, I said, "you know, I'm almost tempted to just go all the way to the North Fork Ranger Station," which was the next water and a staggering 29 miles for the day. As we got to Messenger Flats Campground around 6 and ate dinner, and Drop and Roll and I were definitely feeling like moving on. K-Bomb was on the fence. A little later Ninja and Scott rolled in, and said they were done for the day. We convinced K-Bomb to do it, since it meant we'd only have 18 miles to get here, better than a full 24, and we'd be meeting back up with Ninja and Scott the next day in town anyways. So 6 more miles of hiking, a ridiculously beautiful sunset, and a lot of stumbling around in the dusky half-light, and we were there. Felt pretty good, considering it's the farthest I've ever hiked in one go.

I was glad to only have 18 to do the next day too, as we were getting to lower elevations again and it was hot. I'm thinking about renaming the sun "scare ball." I plan to start hiding from it more often, hiking more in the mornings and evenings, and sitting out the noon in a siesta. We shall see. We have the Mojave section ahead of us, walking the LA aqueduct, a long dry section that may call for straight up night hiking. Too bad the moon won't be out, as it's about gone and won't really be up in the night for another week, and I'm not waiting. But we are taking a zero here in Agua Dulce, as we haven't had a day off for 9 days, and feeling good or not, I need a rest. At one point I thought I'd pulled a tendon behind my right knee, walking through a burn area where the trail was in pretty bad shape, and yesterday a tendon in my right foot's arch was feeling the same way. Both are fine now, but definitely a sign to cool it a bit. I'm also very happy to be in town and able to eat to the point of discomfort. In fact, this hostel has bikes, and when K-Bomb wakes up I'm going to see if he wants to ride down to the cafe for breakfast. Can't wait for some coffee!

But of course, despite my great love for the comforts of civilization (namely food, drink, showers, and laundry), I really do love being out there, and always get antsy to be moving again. The hiking is truly where it's at; when I'm walking, the sheer simplicity of that, the pureness of the movement, the rhythm of my breathing, the sweat and the burn of the muscles, it just puts me at ease. Maybe I'm an endorphin junkie, but I can think of worse ways to get high. There's nothing like a long distance hike, in my mind. You get your fix, and you also get to see beautiful places and make great friends.

May post pictures later if I get a chance.