Pause

I have to admit the last nine days have been rather interesting and initially somewhat challenging for the fixed mindset I had unintentionally developed regarding this journey. Luckily, with plenty of time to reflect it didn't take long for me to be reminded that adaptability and embracing the unexpected is really what this time is all about.

As of Thursday, April 7th, Pam and I had 12 days and just over 150 miles under our belt. As far as "where" we anticipated being according to our initial itinerary we were pretty much right on track. We had collectively decided that once we reached or days end, we would bypass the San Jacinto's for the time being due to considerable "winter weather conditions". Instead we would hitch a ride and push on through further north near the Mojave and continue to have better access to the relatively limited desert water sources.

At this point my feet were healing up and my body getting into the groove. I had taken up using a set of trekking poles which I swore up and down I would loathe, but ended up becoming a dedicated convert to.
I was feeling totally jazzed and commited to pushing through the literal ups and downs. Pam on the other hand was going through an entirely different experience. Her blisters had her in agony and at about 2:00 on Thursday after seemingly endless meandering switch backs skirting the entire circumference of the town we were headed for, Pam had a moment where she was not only ready to call it a day, but was considering calling off the trip altogether. This happens on this trail and is in no way meant to reflect poorly. As Pam said herself, she was not having fun, she was in considerable pain and there is no reason for this experience to be hell. Luckily I convinced her that by my calculations we should be reaching our anticipated destination at 3:00. I must admit I am soooo glad I was right because I may not be here to share this right now if the highway crossing was any further off. LOL! ;)

We got to Pines to Palms HWY 74 and started sticking our thumbs out with great eagerness to get to the promised "L" for "Lodging" referenced in our PCT data book. Only about 20 cars passed us before a guy named Dave picked us up. He was very helpful and willing to veer off HWY 74 to 371 and head about 7 miles to the town of Anza. To put it mildly, we are still trying to determine what "lodging" actually refers to, because there was not a single motel, cabin, or anything of the sort. Anza is certainly a rural town, but hosts a couple of gas stations, restaurants, stores, etc. So lodging would not have been out of place. After making an inquiry to some of the local folks we found out that the only option nearby would be to camp at the local RV park. The irony of this is that much earlier in the day we had crossed a dirt jeep road with a fantastic water cache nearby that had a hand scrawled note directing hikers to the very same RV park only 6 miles away (compared to the 8 plus we hiked to the highway and the other 7-10 we drove to get there). Oh, but c'est la vie.

We did a little reconnaissance at the RV park thanks to Dave, only to find the office closed for the day. Fortunatly the proprieters of the onsite store gave us the phone number for the RV park management. In the meantime we had Dave drive us back into town to drop our weary and HUNGRY butts off at the local "Diner 371".

While pigging out on burgers and fries we began to discuss our strategy for the ride back to the park. I ended up approaching an elderly couple, Leroy and Betty, who kindly shared their life story and their vehicle with two stinky ladies. Leroy had been (and technically still was) a pilot and a unicyclist (maybe no longer for that). He carried an image of himself as a younger man riding a 15 foot high unicycle. Betty was the epitomy of old lady- resembling a babushka in every way other than her very tall stature. She had lots to share about the diverse personalities and looks of her litter of grandchildren.

From Thursday evening through the following Wednesday morning, Pam and I became better aquainted with our hobo lifestyle and trailor park living. The first night was spent camped out in a small patch of grass. We awoke in the morning to snow. We knew it was cold and rainy, but had no idea the snow level would hit the lower elevation. Our tent and sleeping bags proved to be well worth the expense and weight in our packs, because they kept us perfectly warm and dry. We did take the offer from the "Donna's" (the 2 co-managers) to relocate to the park rec room where we set our tent up in the middle of the floor. From that point on we were introduced to a local park resident and maintenance man, Larry, who became one of our many angels of the week. Larry was our self appointed pretector and chauffer. A talkative, retired Las Vegas cop with a true sense of purpose when it came to serving hikers. Being the first of the season, staying the longest, and likely being of the female breed must have been to our advantage and inspired Larry to accomodate and shuffle us around and take us to places to eat as far as Temecula.

On Friday soon after we set up our indoor camp we were inundated by a lively little family. Viki, 12 year old son Jay and dog Utah swept in with an intense level of energy. We had actually heard about them in Mt. Laguna where they had passed thru a day or so before us, then apparently we got ahead of them and left hours before their arrival at Warner Springs. They too were planning to bypass the San Jacintos and were looking for a ride to Idyllwild. These folks were from Iowa (or was it Ohio?) and had plans of hiking north to Ashland. Of course Larry stepped up to the plate and offered them a ride over the mountain. Pam and I decided to tag along and pick up a box we had awaiting us at the post office. The drive to Idyllwild proved that we had all made the best choice to avoid the snowy conditions. The rumor was that all hikers were avoiding that section for the time being

Other folks we met included Mike and crew at the diner. These guys work on restoring vintage cars. Mike travels to Anza every other month from DC and had a little Toyota Corolla he offered for us to use for a day and a half. The Donna's I mentioned included one who had been a chef for some major celebs, had a son that was killed in Vietnam, was a devout christian woman and baked Pam and I our own mini peanut butter pies when she was baking others for the church potluck. The other Donna was a tiny little spitfire that drives a huge dodge dually, is mother to a tiny pomeranian named Lacy, is on the prowl for a sugar daddy (she's in her 80's mind you) and who was gearing up for an Alaskan cruise with her pal Barbara. Barbara is the wife of Earl. They are both residents of the RV park and decided to retire there after they had enjoyed many summers there with their camper club. They were very friendly, invited us into their home and shared some stories and cold beverages with us.

One might be wondering, as I was at first, "Why are you spending so much time at this trailor park, aren't you supposed to be on a hike?" Well, Pam had decided 1) she needed a break, but more importantly 2) she needed her husband Jack to come relocate us further north on the trail and 3) have Jack bring her some different gear to swap out. Because of Jack's work schedule the soonest he could get to us would be the following week, today to be exact. Therefore, we had lots of time (nine days) to get antsy. I have to admit the first couple of days were somewhat mentally challenging when I started analyzing the halt in our progress, but after indulging in the warm hearted kindness of strangers and an unexpected rendez vous with Ron, it turned out to be a very enjoyable week.

Ron moved us north to be closer to our starting point for our next stretch of trail. We moved from trailor park living in Anza to Marriot Suite luxury and suburban shopping centers in Santa Clarita. Definitely not what I had anticipated during the long months of planning this trip, but an adventure nonetheless.

Jack has finally arrived. Our resupply boxes are reconfigured, blisters relatively healed, body possibly over rested, and soul ready for the next stretch through the Mojave.

The trail-less part of this journey has reminded me of the power of adaptability and letting go of the overthinking ego. We have encountered a freakish year with record snow pack that has promised to be a challenge to anyone that planned a thru-hike. The only way to not feel defeat over the next several months is to take one step at a time. Pam and I are both willing to approach this hike as it unfolds. We are willing and even adament about avoiding any unneccessary risk and have actually begun to recognoze the true advantage of skipping around different sections of this vast trail to best suit our skill and the conditions that are out of our control.

One more night of cable tv and off to the trailhead in Agua Dulce tomorrow.

Un-pause.

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