Written Tuesday, 11 May 2021

Last night's camping spot was, possibly, the worst one I have ever chosen, and I have chosen some terrible camping spots in my life. Jammed between the noisy highway and the power plant that was lit up like Dallas during Super Bowl week, I didn't get much good sleep. Also, for the first time on the Trail, I have dew all over my sleeping quilt in the morning and end up having to pack it up wet. I am so sorry I talked Top Rock into staying here too.

One thing is for sure, it didn't encourage me to linger, and I was breakfasted, packed, and hiking by 0400, leaving Top Rock asleep. If you noticed that I am getting out earlier and earlier in the last few days, you are very observant. I'm working on my "dark hiking" skills, beating the heat, and also making sure my head lamp, with its tiny rechargeable battery has enough juice to carry me at least a couple of hours to morning twilight.

In the cool darkness, the Trail carries me up around the perimeter of Silverwood Lake which shimmers under the waxing moon like, well, silver wood. The lake itself is man-made and is part of the Mojave water project. In the twilight, it looks beautiful.

As the sun rises, the trail departs the lake perimeter and continued for a few miles, up and down, through a lush, green ecosystem that resembles nothing more than a rain forest. Birds are singing everywhere. Is this the desert? I assume this is all enabled by the water flow that is feeding Lake Silverwood.

As the sun rises higher and the trail gets further from the lake, the greenery abates and the desert returns. The sun is brutally hot, even in the early morning, and there is no shade anywhere to be seen.

And the Trail is climbing over the last pass of the San Bernardinos, heading for the Cajon Pass.

The heat is so oppressive that I know I am sweating, but the sweat is evaporating so quickly that my clothes never seem to get very wet. The salt licks on the front and back of my short are ever-growing though. I cross my fingers that I have enough water to get me to the next water source.

Suddenly, on an ascending ledge trail, I come around a corner and the entire Cajon Pass is revealed in one glance. I cannot possibly describe effectively the jaw-dropping, breathtaking, eye-watering sweep and suddenness if the view.

The last time I had this feeling of being suddenly overwhelmed by nature was on Max Patch Bald, back in 2017, on the Appalachian Trail. I have to sit down, a bit dizzy, and eat a snack, drink some water, and contemplate how small and insignificant I am--not just in the universe, the world, or out country, but in this valley!

The Cajon Pass is the tectonic rift between the San Bernardino range, in which I am currently perched, and the San Gabriel range the the north. Someday, San Andreas will completely rearrange the geography of this area, but today it is a natural passage-way, crowded with transportation corridors, including I-15 which I can see switching back and forth up the distant San Gabriels and the Union Pacific railroad, which takes a longer, gentler, curving climb up those same mountains, the mile-long trains carrying goods from the Port of Los Angeles to a WalMart or Amazon distribution center near you. Another begins the climb about every 10 minutes....

I have posted some pictures above, but this really is a time when I sincerely regret my inadequacy as a photographer.

I finally make my feet work again, and I begin my descent toward the bottom of the pass. Along the way, I am presented with quite a few views of the valley which are just as beautiful as that first glance, lacking only the baseball-bat-to-the-back-of-the-head astonishment. I almost forget about the steepness of the climb down and the heat of the day.

Finally, after another 4 miles, I get to the floor of the pass, immediately adjacent to I-15 and take a 0.4 mile side trail to...a McDonalds. I am not making this up.

The McDonald's at Cajon Pass is a trail-famous landmark, based in its location at the bottom of Cajon Pass, its bad food, and it's terrible service (even before they had to adapt to COVID rules).

I hear from other hikers that the food and service have not improved. However, I don't have to find out myself since there is a great taco truck within easy walking distance, next to a refresco stand, and immediately across from a fresh fruit stand.

Instead of breaking my 7-year record of not going into a McDonald's (in protest of their on-going conspiracy to poison America with low-quality food), I'm able to scarf down several excellent tacos, drink a couple of liters of really good guava and pineapple drinks, and gorge on two plates of cold fresh fruit. I'm also able to get Gatorade, Pedialyte, and filtered water at a convenience store next to McDonald's, and I can load in the shade, waiting for the heat to break.

While there, a fire broke out near the Trail where I just came off, and we watchef a very fast, well coordinated ground and air effort to extinguish the flames, which they did with alacrity. I know they have a lot of experience, but the response was impressive.

Among the other hikers here, waiting for cooler temperatures, are Half-Hook and Kathrin (whom I've not seen since Warner Springs).

In spite of the fact that I was one of the early arrivals at about 1115, I was one of the late departures at 1800. I was, however, well-reated, well-fed, and well-hydrated.

I had traveled 17+ miles this morning so I needed to go a little more than 5 more miles before dark to make it to a desert water cache (maybe) at Swarthout Canyon. You can't count on the cache being stocked and the next reliable water is at the top of the Pass, 17 miles beyond the Swarthout so I still need to lug 4 liters out of the bottom of the pass.

The route to Swarthout is a little climby, and I catch up to Top Rock on the way. Otherwise, I am tail-end-Charlie, and I am rushing to beat the darkness.

I do heat the darkness, but on the way I entirely miss the Mormon Rocks, a iconic natural landmark along the PCT, just because I had my head down and was driving. I definitely could have gotten back on the Trail half an hour sooner and taken a more leisurely approach.

Still, I got to the cache just before dark, the cache was full, so I have water for the morning, and I am cowboy camping again tonight.

Top Rock gets in right after dark, and he sets up on a flat spot near me. At other spots all around us, a dozen or more other hikers are bedding down here too, ready to climb the San Gabriel side of the Cajon Pass in the morning.

I'm safe, dry, and warm tonight.

PS Boycott McDonald's. Thank you!

Miles Hiked Today: 22.9 Total Miles Hiked: 347.2

Sea Otter Fact of the Day: A baby sea otter is called a pup