Miles 652.1 - 693.5 (with a detour)

For those of you not in California...let me preface this post by explaining that California is in a major major drought situation this year. The Sierra Snowpack, which dictates the annual water situation for most of the southern part of the state is way below average... this means it is probably going to be another active fire season... and it seems fire season is starting early.

Hound and I are were ready to set out early Sunday morning from Walker Pass... when we got word on social media that there was a wildfire near Owen’s Peak - about four miles north from where we were getting back on trail. We couldn’t find any trail information concerning the active fire... so, I did what any smart, resourceful human would do... and messaged the one and only, Jim Topeleski... Redlands fire chief extraordinaire... and let me give a quick shout out because not only is Jim a modern day Macgyver and expert on all things PCT and wilderness in Southern California... he has been on call this entire journey for me to help me navigate established fire closures and has been an amazing cheerleader - I keep telling his boss he should get a raise... but apparently being a member of Amy’s PCT support team only earns you a cocktail and Thai dinner. Jim quickly jumped on his super secret firefighter network and confirmed that the PCT ran through the established perimeter lines even though the fire was still a little east of the PCT itself... high winds and hot temps... he advised we go around and even mapped the easiest options to do so. The next morning a Cleveland National forest service fire team that had been fighting the fire was checking into our hotel and confirmed Jim’s assessment.

Hound and I called our trail angel, Val, and she agreed to bring us to a different drop off point a few miles north of the fire and outside of the perimeter. Sounds like a responsible solid plan, right? Well you know what they say about the best laid plans....

The set drop off point was supposed to be on a dirt road a few miles south of a BLM campground that would lead us back to trail pretty easily... our trail angel was pretty sure she knew where it was... so we drove forward without gps... the dirt road we were on was closed by a gate a little ways up... no worries I said looking at the map... it looks like we can walk from here to the dirt road we were supposed to be getting dropped off on and get to the campground (what’s a few extra miles among hundreds?)... we hopped out of the car and extended our gratitude for the ride as she drove away. As we were getting organized to start walking, I notice the signs.... not one but 12... twelve signs all reading something along the lines of “no trespassing” or “private property”. Hound seemed a tad concerned... I was thinking well at this point we have no choice... so I hopped the gate and now facing the backs of the signs...started singing the fourth verse of Woody Guthrie’s classic...

“As I was walkin' - I saw a sign there And that sign said "No trespassin'" But on the other side .... it didn't say nothin! Now that side was made for you and me!”

So we walked up the “private” dirt road in the middle of nowhere, past numerous additional signs... we came upon a really nice cottage with a giant man made lake behind it... and realized thankfully... it didn’t appear anyone was home... we kept walking... now this is where things turned weird... a mile up was a storage container... then another... then another... I said I am pretty sure those contain the bodies of past hikers.... all in all these very adamant no trespassing people had about 17 full size storage containers sprinkled on their property that we could see...if you have ever seen the show Snapped...you know where my mind was going... we kept walking... the signs disappearing and slowly the dirt road was almost like a trail rambling through the hillsides... then it stopped... I mean just ended... crap... we looked at each other... this is where I am going to tell you readers... if you are ever in the wilderness... in the desert on a hot day... with no guide to water sources... walking along a dirt road and it just ends... the responsible thing to do is to walk the six miles back down the dirt road... and keep walking until you can find help or the way back to where you need to be... the irresponsible thing to do is to look at the map and say “if we just bushwhack up and down those two mountains there and pave our own way... it looks like maybe we can get back to the right dirt road and follow that to the trail...”

So we charged forward and upward and downward and carved a new path from the cabin of horrors to the PCT.... over boulders... over trees... through miles and miles of thorny brush... my legs and arms have a wonderful geometric pattern of cuts and scrapes... we conserved our water... we marveled at how even though we were both bleeding ... it was kind of fun in a puzzle like way... and what do you know.. we found the dirt road... we found the trail... and we hiked another few miles to find some water...

After a day of bushwhacking and a few miles on trail we turned a corner on a ridge... and in front of us was an amazing meadow and Manter Creek... we took it in then ran for the water... as we approached the creek... I heard Clutch! ... and there was Scout! (and Megaphone) chilling in camp. I ran to give him a hug... forgetting my sunglassss hanging around my neck... and crack... there went the second pair of glasses on trail so far... and I was reminded that I am not a hugger for a reason...;). Shortly after, Lady and Swiftie arrived.

We all caught up on our past few days and had a great evening laughing and socializing at camp...