On this leg, we passed through the San Jacinto Mountain Wilderness. The San Jacintos are a small range in southern California that stretch for about 30 miles. The range features one of the most abrupt changes in altitude in North America, rising 7,000 ft to above 10,000 in elevation in only a few miles. Known to be hazardous in the early hiking season the San Jacintos lived up to their reputation.
Many thru hikers that we met skipped this section completely due to its abrupt changes from prior sections, requiring different gear suitable for snow traverses, often on inclines. Though we were delayed due to the challenges we faced going through the San Jacintos, we are grateful that we passed through them. Here we had our most awe inspiring views, and great training for what lies ahead.
We returned to the trail rested and with new, warmer gear ready for what lies ahead. I finally got a replacement for my sleeping pad, and invested in a 2 oz hiking pillow. Both are truly game changers.
Once back on trail, we immediately began ascending in altitude, starting from 5,000 ft to camping this evening at 6,300 ft. From the terrain we see currently, it is difficult to believe that in a few miles, we will be above 8,000 ft and walking through snow.
Let me say that the San Jacintos certainly live up to their reputation. I do not think that we took a step today that was not uphill. By the day’s end, we reached 7,500 ft in altitude and snow had begun to accumulate. Due to their unique topography in California, snow often doesn’t melt completely until June in this range.
Typically in March, this snow would be deep, fresh and hard, all good things to pass over it, rather than postholing through it. However, due to climate change, there is no longer a normal snow year. The ranger who gives regular reports on trail conditions noted that though we were in March, snow was melting at a rate more typical of June.
This can be very hazardous, as soft snow doesn’t hold one’s weight and you can slide in such terrain.
Taking note of this, we carried extra gear in this stretch to make these conditions safer. Namely, microspikes and an ice axe. Microspikes attach to the bottoms of your shoes to give additional traction on ice, and an ice axe can save your life if you have a bad fall. The axe allows one to self arrest, or stop a potentially fatal fall by having the axe strike into the snow on the mountain.
Tomorrow, we will be getting up at first light to cross the most historically hazardous portion of this section the Pacific Crest Trail. This section is known as Apache Peak. The trail here is on a steep incline covered in snow. For the safest conditions, we want to hit snow when it is hardest, just after it refreezes overnight and before being softened by the day’s sunlight.
We camped tonight on the side of a mountain near a natural spring. The desert city of Palm Springs glittered in the night below us.
Waking up, we quickly crossed Apache Peak. The incline and snow here were unsettling. I am very glad that we hit this section as the snow was hardest. This day had several marked hazards, as we also had to cross a section of trail where a rockslide had occurred. Here, a rope and other hikers helped us pass over a very sharp fall.
After this rockslide, it was an additional several miles trekking through soft snow. As we got above 7,000 ft, we were both beginning to feel the altitude along with the strenuous uphill hiking. We camped on a beautiful slope that was free of snow. It was a clear night, and there is nothing like being at high altitude under a blanket of stars.
Woke up at our campsite above 8,000 ft, and we both began to feel exhausted by the altitude. After a 2 mile trek through soft snow, I had to take a long break so I could adjust! We had made it to the base of our goal: Mt. San Jacinto. 10,800 ft, the second highest mountain in Southern California and the highest altitude we will reach until the Sierra Nevadas along the John Muir Trail.
Because of the rest we took, we hit the trail to the summit late in the afternoon. Due to this, it was 3 miles up to summit on soft snow. We went on, and it could not have been more than 2000 ft from the summit, and we had to turn back. Every step, we postholed to our waists through the snow. We had to excavate Mary’s shoe 3 times from the deep ice. I assure you, this was the worst archaelogy I have ever done.
We descended the mountain as the sun was setting and, resolved to summit early next morning. Overcome with exhaustion, we settled for our worst campsite yet: an incline on the side of the mountain. At 9,500 ft, it was windy, it was cold, and the ground was soft. It would not be a sound night.
We woke up to both of our tents collapsed from the wind. Mary’s tent had managed to roll 10 ft down the incline by morning, with her in it.
Exhausted, altitude sick, and with one of our tents upside down, we set out to descend the mountain and recuperate in Idyllwild, determined to try again after a rest.
On our way down, we saw Tahquitz Rock, a legendary climbing area. This is where the Yosemite Grade System was codified. My rock climbing friends will recognize this system as something like 5.10c.
Rested and resupplied, we returned to the trail the next day. Ascending back to 9,000 ft, we found a far better campsite and went to sleep before sunset so we can wake up well before sunrise. We would not make the same mistake of hiking on soft snow again.
Waking at 5 am, we began our hike to the summit. This time, the altitude does not hit us until we are near the summit of the mountain, at 10,800 ft. 3 miles in, we reached the top at 9 in the morning on a beautiful clear day and saw everything in the valleys surrounding us. Though it took longer than expected, it was worth it for this view.
After a few minutes withstanding a windchill below freezing and thin air, we rested for a while inside the storm hut present on the mountain. Due to its unique geography, and dramatic topography relative to the areas surrounding, the San Jacintos are known to have spontaneous storms roll through, even in odd times of the year. On our descent, we found our trials in the snow were ending, but definitely not over.
Making it to tonight’s campsite, we had to trek through one of the more infamous sections in the area, which often features deep snow well into June. Our final trial in the cold for this section was 3 miles of deep, soft, slippery snow. I think that I must have fallen on the snow about 50 times in a single day.
Though this was very frustrating, I think that I learned a great deal about traversing snow from my lessons in the San Jacintos.
After those difficult 3 miles, we reached one of our best, and most eerie campsites yet: a large abandoned campground that had not seen use in well over a year. Covid had shut down a great many things, and prevented maintenance of the campsite, as well as the trails surrounding.
Exhausted, we found this site gave us our best night of sleep we have found on the trail. Quite a change from the next day.
Descending from Fuller Ridge, we found ourselves leaving the mountains as quickly as we had entered them, soon reaching our lowest elevation by far. In a single day, we lost 6,000 ft of elevation, finding ourselves at 1,500 ft near the desert town of Cabazon.
This was our first true view of real, low elevation desert. This was a valley surrounded by two rain shadows, the San Jacinto and San Gorgonio mountains. These two ranges comprise the highest elevations found in Southern California.
Due to the intense heat and winds found here, this area featured a solar and wind farm. Consequently to those two factors, we found only a single species of scrub brush could grow in the area. This was truly the driest place I had ever found myself in. Such a dramatic change from our conditions just yesterday.
Having a resupply box waiting for us, we were forced to camp in the worst site I hope we ever find: in a windy, rocky outcropping surrounded by the noise and pollution of a busy corridor along I-10.
Well, at least Cabazon has Chipotle.
Total Miles: 209.5
Freshly resupplied with food for our next stretch we made our way over the next few days towards a staple of the Pacific Crest Trail: The Paradise Valley Cafe. But it was not easy.
It was another difficult stretch as we encountered our calmest, but also hottest weather. This week we passed through the driest landscapes, had the furthest water carries, and the greatest changes in elevation of our trip thus far.
Waking up in a campground just outside of Warner Springs, we made our way to the post office for our next resupply. Warner Springs is a very small town, no more than a ranch, post office, gas station and a few dozen residences. In safer times, there is a hotel and restaurant in partnership with the ranch as well.
This small town is in remarkable contrast to the meadows we passed through on our entry and exit into town, which are vast pastures suited to the historic ranch that this town is known for.
We witnessed a notable feature to this area with glider plane rides. These planes have no engine and are towed into the sky by another aircraft before being allowed to fly freely. With no engine, they ride completely silently and are often only used in areas with rising pockets of hot air, or thermals. A skilled pilot can fly for hours without an engine catching these pockets of air.
Leaving the meadowlands, we made our way into a biome that seemed to collage all the traits we have seen thus far over the past 100 miles, as chapparal coalesced with sand flats and oak trees.
These miles were also notable for the first stream crossings of our journey. With temperatures under the desert sun easily exceeding 80 degrees, the cool water of the false named Agua Caliente Creek were a welcomed feature.
After more than a week of sleeping without a roof over my head, things slowly become habit as we wake up, take up camp and walk about 8-10 hours every day to around sunset, make camp again and fix dinner. We settle into our tents, I practice a bit of guitar most nights, journal the day’s events and sleep.
On this day, I felt like we stepped into a desert proper. Further, a desert in a drought exacerbated by climate change. Though the air temperature in late march only reaches the mid 70’s, complete exposure to the desert sun upon these ridgelines desiccates all that cannot find the all too scarce water.
Lack of humidity means that heat cannot be retained by atmospheric water, such that as soon as the sun sets, temperatures drop rapidly. Often dropping more than 25 degrees in the hour past sundown.
We again reached 5,000 ft of elevation today, and found that few living things could endure the intense heat, even so early in Spring. A feature I found incredibly odd is that once above 5k, there was a complete disappearance of all cactus. If anyone knows why, I would love to know!
I consider myself fortunate that we decided to start at the end of the cold season rather than the typical thru hiker beginning in mid april, or the beginning of the hot season.
Though these trail miles are certainly very difficult, I am happy to see how well we are adapting to them. Already, 16 miles with a 30 lb pack gaining 3,000 ft of elevation on a hot day was doable, when we could not have expected it to be so a week ago.
This week, we gained over 7,500 ft of elevation in the high desert. Even just after the short wet seasons of Southern California, water is very rare. Even more so this year, as the area is supposed to receive 15” of rain, but has only received 5”. This week It is common for our water sources to be 10+ miles away from each other, as well as manmade. Most of the time, we would refill our water bottles through large water tanks maintained by kind people along the trail. This is greatly appreciated, as if they did not do this, water carries would be far more difficult.
In normal conditions, it is recommended for hikers to drink a gallon of water each day. In the desert, one can need as much as double that, despite its scarcity. Water is one of the heaviest things hikers carry, with each liter one water weighing over 2 lbs. If I am carrying a gallon of water, approx. 4 liters, I am carrying over 8 lbs or about a quarter of the total weight in my backpack. These water tanks make it easier for us to travel lighter with less water and less weight so long as they are maintained. I am very grateful for the “trail angels” who maintain these resources for us, often from their own pocket.
Today, we finally reached a famous trail stop, and one noted for its bottomless refills and delicious burgers. Truly a hiker oasis in the desert.
After 9 Days of hard hiking, we stopped in the town of Idyllwild for our first showers, laundry and beds in over a week. Idyllwild is a beautiful little town supported by tourism and surrounded by one of the highest peaks in Southern California: Mt. San Jacinto. Over our next stretch, we will make effort to summit this 10k mountain, and some very difficult trail. This will be our first extensive PCT experience with snow, and we have gotten our crampons and ice axes to prepare for what lies ahead.
After a lovely day of rest and resupply in town, we are excited for what lies ahead once we get back on trail.
Total Miles: 152
In contrast to our first leg, this section was really an early test on our willpower. As a day hiker informed us, around a quarter of those attemping to thru hike the PCT will quit before reaching Warner Springs. I can now see why. Over the last week, we have been caught in 3 hail storms, experienced winds in excess of 45 mph, and had two days cut short by rain.
On top of this, my new temporary replacement sleeping pad is not nearly so comfortable as my previous one. High winds constantly shook the walls of our tents for several nights. This led to me not getting a full night of sleep for 3 days.
However, it is a give and take. The lowest lows also yielded to the high points so far, including my favorite section on the trail I have seen.
After our rest day, we picked up our first resupply after the botched one in San Diego. Moving through the desert is truly amazing, as I could not have foreseen all of the diversity of ecosystems we would experience.
Every change in about 1,000 ft brings you into a different ecosystem, from a pine forest to a desert basin. I came into this believing that because I was on foot, the ecosystems would change at a far slower pace than by car. But on the contrary, because we are actively interacting with our surroundings as we pass through them, we are more aware of what lies around us.
The desert defies expectations. Where I would expect flat dry land, I find verdant rolling mountains. Where I expect cactus, I find wildflowers (and also cactus).
The views of the Laguna Mountains and Salton Sea in the distance are the most profound since I have been in Utah. The mountains often have this haze around them, making them almost look like mirages in the distance.
We started late today, around 1 PM due to the post office holding our resupply opening at noon. Despite this, we made it 14 miles to our first campsite. The wind here is on the scale of a tropical storm in my home state, often exceeding 35 mph. Our first site was a bust, unfortunately, despite it being the most beautiful site we have found yet. On a calmer day, this exposed site would have been ideal to camp under the stars, but no such luck.
The wind was so strong at the site that it immediately took hold of a stuff sack for my tent, and the ground was so hard that it broke one of my stakes. Do not worry, we have extra stakes, and I can make do without the stuff sack.
Exhausted after a hard day, we set out again in the dark under the light of our headlamps, and found a suitable spot. I made dinner, and quickly fell asleep. But I only could have been so lucky as to stay asleep…
If only I had been so lucky. The winds did not cease at any point in the night, constantly battering our tents. Being in a wind tunnel shook our tents such that I could get more than 3 hours of sleep, despite our full day of hiking. This would become a trend.
Our morning set the tone for the day as we woke up inside of a rain cloud. I rose to find all of my gear wet. We set off without sleep, descending the ridgeline of the Laguna Mountains until we will eventually reach the desert floor tomorrow at 2,300 ft. Today’s events included getting hailed on twice, and sheer descents of around 2,000 ft.
Despite these difficulties and those that lie ahead for the next two days, I am very grateful to be out here. As I am learning, the events of a single day do not define the events of your life, or even tomorrow. This is especially true out here on the trail as we must take what we are given by the environmental conditions.
Despite our run of bad luck today with weather, we ended today on a high note as the heaviest rains did not come until after we had set camp, leaving us dry and warm.
Though a calmer night than our previous, I am having difficulty as side sleeper with my replacement foam pad. Luckily, in about a week, a new one will come in our mail resupply! Inflateable pads can be very finicky, but for their weight can be both the warmest and best pads for side sleepers.
After setting out today, we descended and from the high ridgeline of the Laguna Mountains on the Desert floor into the San Felipe Wilderness Study Area. This was our starkest environmental change yet as sagebrush yielded to juniper trees, agave and about 15 different species of cactus.
We began to encounter many charismatic species of desert plants such as the California barrel cactus and a personal favorite: the ocotillo. Ocotillo, also known as coachwhip or the vine cactus, among other things. Oddly, it is not a cactus species at all, though it’s spines would like to tell you different. Native Americans and early settlers were known to propagate these as living fences.
After leaving the desert floor, we ascended into a canyon where every mile was marked by a new cactus or wildflower. Exhausted by the past days events, we set out camp early. And tomorrow is where the fun really starts…
Today marks a week of hiking since our journey began, not counting our rest day. As I recall all of the high and low points thus far, it makes me smile to be able to do something like this.
We reached the greatest challenge of our trip today as we had to go 8 miles to our next water resupply as winds reached 45 mph, after 3 days of very poor sleep. After breaking camp, we walked along a the edges of the canyon, slowly ascending to 4,000 ft. Meanwhile, the winds were so strong that they pushed us with force into their prevailing direction.
At one point, the wind pushed me right into a friendly local cactus, and the ‘hug’ they gave me left me thinking about it for several hours afterward. Fortunately, our water resupply was also a very large, sheltered campsite. We settled in for an early night.
Thanks to Mary’s parents, I slept soundly tonight from the nyquil they gave us prior to departing Florida. This sound night of sleep led from the lowest point of our trip thus far after another cold rainstorm to our highest.
This was our highest mileage day thus far, thanks to perfect weather and largely flat terrain. We reached my favorite landscape of the entire journey thus far, and it felt as if something out of a dream.
We entered this vast meadow covered in wildflowers of various colors dotting the rolling foothills of the landscape. This pastoral setting gave me a sense of peace I have certainly not felt since this pandemic has begun, and taught me a lesson from this week.
Take things as they come and take it a day at a time. In these anxious times, this simple lesson is something for me to internalize for the challenges that lie ahead.
This was a long stretch without resupply, as we found that we were going faster than our expected pace, and we could skip one of our resupply points. Our next one will be sooner, so I anticipate the next post being in less time than this one.
In this stretch, we also passed mile 100, our first significant milestone, but many lie ahead!
Total Miles: 109