April 27

86.6- 109.6

23 mi

It is interesting to think of the different reasons folks are out here.  We have met many who have never, or have rarely, backpacked before.  A passion for hiking is not a prerequisite for walking one of the national scenic trails. 

 I consider it more of a pilgrimage, something spiritually enriching, than a hiking trip.   I have hiked over 10,000 miles on national scenic trails and if I were to answer truthfully, I would say that I do not actually love to hike. I love the adventure of it.  I enjoy the singular long term focus and day to day goal setting. It provides me with an easily explained sense of purpose:  Head north.   I appreciate the slowed pace of life, with your day revolving around your next water source, next meal, next climb, or next campsite.  I enjoy the physical challenge, finding your limit, and then watching that limit grow.  I adore the magnified pleasures of life’s indulgences after being denied them for a period of time.  Please just don’t ask me me to hike.

We continue climbing through the San Felipe hills, a notoriously hot section of the PCT. Luckily, temperatures were quite mild. Still, we were thankful for the water cache supplied by locals. They truck pallets of water bottles up to where a road comes withing a half mile of the trail. After a quick detour to fill our bottles, we continue to make miles.

We cruise through a maddeningly convoluted section of trail that seemingly does loops on itself while making minimal northern progress, as it winds through drainages in the San Felipe hills.

Eventually we descend to warner springs meadows, a beautiful stretch of trail that looks more like the savannah than it does southern California.

We approach a popular site, aptly named Eagle Rock, and chat with some of the day hikers who have hiked in to see the sights. We tell them how hungry and thirsty we are, hoping they would shower us with food and beverages, but none take the bait.

After referencing our guidebook we notice that there is a restaurant and convenience store 5 miles further along the trail at the next road crossing, in the tiny town of Warner Springs, so we turn on the jets and cruise while imagining what we will order when we arrive. We walk along a tiny creek, lined with ancient oak trees.

After arriving at the road we are dismayed to find that the restaurant does not exist. The convenience store closed 15 minutes before our arrival, and won’t open again until 9am, well after we would like to begin hiking. Pain. Dismay. We have 40 miles to our next resupply stop, and were relying on the c-store to fill our larders. We eat normal hiker food- bars and dehydrated meals- and feel sorry for ourselves.

After moping around, we hear word from other hikers that a local woman will deliver breakfast burritos at 6:45am, if you send her a text request. I place an order for 4 burritos, so we can avoid having to wait for the c-store to open. We find a nice cowboy campsite underneath an old oak tree, and fall asleep, dreaming of burritos.