It was hard saying goodbye to Jan and Jim. I miss them already. I wish I didn't live so far away and could visit them more often. I would enjoy hiking with Jan all over the continent.
Flying is never an enjoyable event for me, but the San Diego airport is well-organized and easy to navigate. When I turned in my rental car, I noted that I had been 3,786 miles in that car. I had probably driven several hundred miles in the first car I had (the one with the dead battery), so I'm estimating that I covered at least 4,000 miles this trip. That's a long way to drive in a month!
The three-hour flight to Houston was uneventful. However, when I got to the airport, I turned on my phone and had a voicemail message from work: Call in now! I called in, but couldn't talk to the boss, so I made an appointment to talk with him tomorrow afternoon. Calls like that always make me nervous about my job security. I hope everything is okay.
My connecting flight was a half hour late, and we had a last-minute gate change, but the pilot promised to try to make up some time in the air, which he did. I was thankful, too, that my one checked box made it intact. I'm always worried that they will lose my luggage.
My mom picked me up at the airport and was really, really happy to see me (of course). She took me to dinner, which was nice, since I hadn't eaten much all day. She had even bought me some cereal and milk for breakfast, so I wouldn't have to go to the store right away. That was nice! And to top it off, she had washed and waxed my car while I was away. Thanks, Mom!!!!
My two kitty boys were happy to see me, too. My big boy tried to pout for awhile and let me know that he didn't appreciate my being gone so long, but he soon came around. I'm glad, because I missed them so and wanted lovin'.
I get to sleep in my own bed tonight. Yeah!! No more sleeping on the ground in a tent in the cold. I can't wait.
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
May 16 -- San Diego
I dropped my hiker trash (a term of endearment in the hiker community), Paul and Sonya, off at a Starbucks in downtown Visalia, CA. They were grateful for the ride out of the park and all of the transportation and assistance that I had provided them. They are an interesting couple, and I'm glad I met them. Having spent the previous three weeks traveling alone, I enjoyed their company. I wish them well in their travels.
I hit the freeway about 8:00 am and cruised south on this Sunday morning. I had really been sweating driving through the heart of Los Angeles on I-5, but it was not a problem. Thankfully, traffic wasn't bad, but I wouldn't want to experience it during rush hour. I could see what a mess that would be. Unfortunately, it was overcast and smoggy, so visibility was limited, and I didn't get to see anything. I didn't even get a good view of downtown, even though I was pretty close. South of L.A., I-5 tracks fairly closely along the coastline, so I did get some limited views of the Pacific Ocean. I wish it had been a sunny day. I'm sure it would have been more beautiful.
Unexpectedly, I made it to San Diego in about four hours, which was a lot less than I had imagined. I was happy to Jan and Jim again. They are both angels from heaven. Jan and I walked down the street and visited briefly with Scout and Frodo. It was good to see them again, too. Jan then made a fabulous dinner. I had been craving real food (i.e., something other than peanut butter and snack food), so I gorged on chicken, potatoes, and artichokes. Yum.
Tomorrow, I will fly home. I don't like flying, but I will be glad to be home. I have missed my mom, my home, my children, and my friends. But, wow, what a fabulous time I have had!!!
I hit the freeway about 8:00 am and cruised south on this Sunday morning. I had really been sweating driving through the heart of Los Angeles on I-5, but it was not a problem. Thankfully, traffic wasn't bad, but I wouldn't want to experience it during rush hour. I could see what a mess that would be. Unfortunately, it was overcast and smoggy, so visibility was limited, and I didn't get to see anything. I didn't even get a good view of downtown, even though I was pretty close. South of L.A., I-5 tracks fairly closely along the coastline, so I did get some limited views of the Pacific Ocean. I wish it had been a sunny day. I'm sure it would have been more beautiful.
Unexpectedly, I made it to San Diego in about four hours, which was a lot less than I had imagined. I was happy to Jan and Jim again. They are both angels from heaven. Jan and I walked down the street and visited briefly with Scout and Frodo. It was good to see them again, too. Jan then made a fabulous dinner. I had been craving real food (i.e., something other than peanut butter and snack food), so I gorged on chicken, potatoes, and artichokes. Yum.
Tomorrow, I will fly home. I don't like flying, but I will be glad to be home. I have missed my mom, my home, my children, and my friends. But, wow, what a fabulous time I have had!!!
Monday, May 17, 2010
May 15 -- Lake Kaweah
Paul and Sonya stayed with me for the day. It was really cold in the morning, so we packed up and headed out in search of hot coffee at one of the lodges in Sequoia NP. We were all disappointed to learn the all the of the trails in Kings Canyon are under snow, and thus not passable. So we headed south to Sequoia and lower altitudes. First, we walked two miles to Moro Rock, which is a huge rock outcrop from which we were able to have a panoramic view of the Sierra Nevada mountains -- at least some of them -- and of the valley west. Nearly 400 steps took us to the top of the rock, but it was worth every step. The view was breathtaking.
From there, we had a nice picnic lunch and then set off in search of a campsite for the night. Unfortunately, it was Saturday and, by the time we got to the campgrounds, they were full. We were very disappointed. Having been to this part of Sequoia NP earlier in the week, I remembered that there was a lovely campground on Lake Kaweah, which was about 10 miles outside the park. Though it was 5:00 pm when we got there, we managed to get one of the last few sites. The campground host then told us that we had to be gone by 2:00 pm the next day, as they were going to close the campground for two months. The snow melt was feeding the lake and would soon raise the water level five or six feet, totally submerging the campground. How crazy is that?
We had a beautiful view of the lake from our campsite, but unfortunately the campground was very, very noisy, being on the road. The other campers were very loud, as well, with their party boats and such.
I was slightly sad when I went to bed. This was my last night camping -- my last night on the road, exploring the west. Tomorrow, I will be back in San Diego, getting ready to fly back home. I've had an amazing time and will never forget this time in my life. I've seen some incredible things. But now it's time to go home and get back to work -- back to life.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless Phone
From there, we had a nice picnic lunch and then set off in search of a campsite for the night. Unfortunately, it was Saturday and, by the time we got to the campgrounds, they were full. We were very disappointed. Having been to this part of Sequoia NP earlier in the week, I remembered that there was a lovely campground on Lake Kaweah, which was about 10 miles outside the park. Though it was 5:00 pm when we got there, we managed to get one of the last few sites. The campground host then told us that we had to be gone by 2:00 pm the next day, as they were going to close the campground for two months. The snow melt was feeding the lake and would soon raise the water level five or six feet, totally submerging the campground. How crazy is that?
We had a beautiful view of the lake from our campsite, but unfortunately the campground was very, very noisy, being on the road. The other campers were very loud, as well, with their party boats and such.
I was slightly sad when I went to bed. This was my last night camping -- my last night on the road, exploring the west. Tomorrow, I will be back in San Diego, getting ready to fly back home. I've had an amazing time and will never forget this time in my life. I've seen some incredible things. But now it's time to go home and get back to work -- back to life.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless Phone
Saturday, May 15, 2010
May 14 -- King's Canyon NP
I made it into the park by 8:00 am and was pleased to see that much of the snow had, in fact, melted, at least so that the roads were open. My first stop was General Grant's tree, the third largest tree in the world at 278 feet tall and 40 feet in diameter at its base. It is a massive stick of wood. And since it was so early in the morning, I got to enjoy it all by myself. Nice.
From there, I hiked several hours into the sequoia forest, again all by myself. There were families of deer roaming around and waterfalls made by the melting snow. It was a special time for me, having the forest to myself, surrounded by these giant trees. I will remember it always.
Since the snow had melted somewhat, a section of park had opened that was not open before -- Cedar Grove -- which took me down into a canyon of towering granite walls. The King's River runs through it, and massive waterfalls tumble from the heavens. On my way back from the waterfall, I spotted a couple of backpackers walking down the road. They stuck their thumbs out, so how could I resist? Paul and Sonya are from Quebec. They have been backpacking around California for two months. I drove them back to Grant's Grove, and we're now sharing a campsite near General Grant's tree. We're about 6000 feet up, so it's going to be a cooold night. There is barely room in the campsite for two tents, because the rest of the ground is covered in drifts of snow, some a foot thick or more.
Paul and Sonya are a delightful couple. Canadian hippies. They speak relatively good English and are very down to earth. I am enjoying their company.
Tomorrow, Paul and Sonya and I are going to make our way to Sequoia NP, which is connected to King's Canyon. I will probably drop them off half-way through the park -- by their choice, not by sheer abandonment -- and stay the night near the park entrance, so I can rise early on Sunday and beat a path to San Diego. It will take me nearly all day to make it down there. Sunday will not be a fun day, but I will be happy to see Jan and Jim again before I leave California. My grand vacation is almost over, but it's been a special time. I will always be grateful that I had the time, money and opportunity to make this trip. It was an excellent Plan B to my original endeavor.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless Phone
From there, I hiked several hours into the sequoia forest, again all by myself. There were families of deer roaming around and waterfalls made by the melting snow. It was a special time for me, having the forest to myself, surrounded by these giant trees. I will remember it always.
Since the snow had melted somewhat, a section of park had opened that was not open before -- Cedar Grove -- which took me down into a canyon of towering granite walls. The King's River runs through it, and massive waterfalls tumble from the heavens. On my way back from the waterfall, I spotted a couple of backpackers walking down the road. They stuck their thumbs out, so how could I resist? Paul and Sonya are from Quebec. They have been backpacking around California for two months. I drove them back to Grant's Grove, and we're now sharing a campsite near General Grant's tree. We're about 6000 feet up, so it's going to be a cooold night. There is barely room in the campsite for two tents, because the rest of the ground is covered in drifts of snow, some a foot thick or more.
Paul and Sonya are a delightful couple. Canadian hippies. They speak relatively good English and are very down to earth. I am enjoying their company.
Tomorrow, Paul and Sonya and I are going to make our way to Sequoia NP, which is connected to King's Canyon. I will probably drop them off half-way through the park -- by their choice, not by sheer abandonment -- and stay the night near the park entrance, so I can rise early on Sunday and beat a path to San Diego. It will take me nearly all day to make it down there. Sunday will not be a fun day, but I will be happy to see Jan and Jim again before I leave California. My grand vacation is almost over, but it's been a special time. I will always be grateful that I had the time, money and opportunity to make this trip. It was an excellent Plan B to my original endeavor.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless Phone
May 13 -- Yosemite NP & Fresno
I left my Aunt's and Uncle's house at 8:30 am, but with traffic and construction delays, it took me 6 hours to get all the way into Yosemite NP on the valley floor. When I got there, it was a zoo. There were soooo many people there you'd think it were the middle of summer, which I assure you it's not. By mid-day, there were no accommodations to be had. No campgrounds or lodges or motels. I was so disappointed and annoyed by all the people that I drove out of the park (two hours) to Fresno, where I got a motel room. I will have to come back when I can reserve space and spend several days here exploring this vast park.
Tomorrow, I'm going back to King's Canyon NP. The roads should be open and the snow partially melted, at least enough to move around and enjoy the sights. I have two days to enjoy it, which I think will be enough time.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless Phone
Tomorrow, I'm going back to King's Canyon NP. The roads should be open and the snow partially melted, at least enough to move around and enjoy the sights. I have two days to enjoy it, which I think will be enough time.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless Phone
Thursday, May 13, 2010
May 12 -- Grass Valley, CA
I'm having an absolutely wonderful visit with my Aunt Linda and Uncle Phil (my mom's brother). I haven't seen them in a long, long time, so it's nice to finally spend some time with them and talk about the family and other things. I'm sorry I haven't had more contact with them in the past.
I spent the morning writing my blog, which is loooong, I know, but get over it. It's my blog. I also uploaded all of my photos for you to enjoy. I didn't take the time to caption them. I will have to do that when I get home. But I think you can get the gist of where I am from the signs that I photograph along the way.
After lunch, we took a short ride to the South Yuba River State Park, which has the longest single-span covered bridge in the U.S. There were some interesting exhibits, as well, of the vehicles people used in the late 1800's to transport goods and people from Pleasant Valley to Sierra City, which is 128 miles away. The Yuba River itself was crystal clear from the snowmelt feeding it from higher elevations and fast-moving.
We then took a drive through "gold country," while my uncle gave me a history lesson on the area and the gold mining efforts of previous generations. It was nice to be able to ride, and not drive, and see the scenery from the passenger window. This is absolutely beautiful country with everything in bloom.
In the evening, I set up Skype for them and connected with their daughter, Jami (my cousin), who lives not far away in Folsom. I enjoyed seeing her for the first time in decades, and they were happy that they could communicate now with webcams over the internet. We then Skyped my mom and spoke with her for a few minutes before calling it a day.
Tomorrow, I will leave for Yosemite National Park. I looked into changing my flight from Monday to Thursday of next week, but it was prohibitively expensive. I guess I will just have to come back out here and spend more time in the Sierra Nevadas. They deserve two weeks by themselves. But at least I will have two days to hit the highlights before I head back to San Diego and then home.
I spent the morning writing my blog, which is loooong, I know, but get over it. It's my blog. I also uploaded all of my photos for you to enjoy. I didn't take the time to caption them. I will have to do that when I get home. But I think you can get the gist of where I am from the signs that I photograph along the way.
After lunch, we took a short ride to the South Yuba River State Park, which has the longest single-span covered bridge in the U.S. There were some interesting exhibits, as well, of the vehicles people used in the late 1800's to transport goods and people from Pleasant Valley to Sierra City, which is 128 miles away. The Yuba River itself was crystal clear from the snowmelt feeding it from higher elevations and fast-moving.
We then took a drive through "gold country," while my uncle gave me a history lesson on the area and the gold mining efforts of previous generations. It was nice to be able to ride, and not drive, and see the scenery from the passenger window. This is absolutely beautiful country with everything in bloom.
In the evening, I set up Skype for them and connected with their daughter, Jami (my cousin), who lives not far away in Folsom. I enjoyed seeing her for the first time in decades, and they were happy that they could communicate now with webcams over the internet. We then Skyped my mom and spoke with her for a few minutes before calling it a day.
Tomorrow, I will leave for Yosemite National Park. I looked into changing my flight from Monday to Thursday of next week, but it was prohibitively expensive. I guess I will just have to come back out here and spend more time in the Sierra Nevadas. They deserve two weeks by themselves. But at least I will have two days to hit the highlights before I head back to San Diego and then home.
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
May 11 -- Grass Valley, CA
Well, what goes up must come down, I guess. This was a particularly frustrating and disappointing day, but ended on a high note.
During previous nights while camping in the woods, I gave very little thought to crawling out of my tent and walking to the bathroom when necessary, except, perhaps, to lament that it was cold, and I didn't want to leave the warmth of my sleeping bag. Last night, however, I was in bear country and had been warned repeatedly that they were "out there." Although the bathhouse was lighted, there were, of course, no lights between it and my campsite. All I had was a headlamp that cast a bright, but limited, glow at my feet. In fact, I made a point not to scan the horizon with it, for fear of what I might find (and so as not to disturb the other campers in the middle of the night). On my way back to my campsite, however, I lifted my head and looked over at a campsite across the road. My headlamp caught the orange glow of two beady eyes staring back at me. They were close to the ground, so they did not belong to a bear, but I had no idea what they might be attached to -- and didn't really want to know -- so I scampered back to my tent and hopped in. It was a bit unsettling. I normally try not to let my imagination run wild while sleeping outdoors. After all, I am, when sleeping, in a semiconscious state, and all that separates me from the wild animals in whose home I am sleeping, is a thin piece of fabric that comprises my tent. Last night, however, it took me awhile to go back to sleep. The river next to me was roaring so loudly that anything that might be investigating me would not be heard scampering around over the din of the rushing water.
Now back in the mountains, I awoke to a wet, soggy tent and trees dripping with moisture from the rain that came during the night. It wasn't much, but it was enough to dampen everything through and through. The dampness also made the cold air (32 degrees when I awoke) feel that much colder. As usual, I quickly (though not as quickly as when I'm in the warm desert) broke camp and made coffee. Breakfast would be a bowl of cereal (cold) and pop tarts.
Because I go to bed early and awaken early, I usually enjoy a good two hours in the morning exploring the park without other people. There's no other traffic on the road, and no one else in my space. I like that a lot. This morning, however, my timing was a little off. I set off about 8:00 am and decided to drive up the park road to the Giant Forest, wherein lies General Sherman, the biggest living Sequoia tree. On my way up the twisty-turny mountain road, I came around a horseshoe bend and on my right, on the other side of a low rock retaining wall, was the mug of black bear, munching on the flora and fauna. His/her face was only three feet from my passenger window, and he/she looked right at me, totally unconcerned with my sudden presence in a vehicle. I stopped the car a few yards up the road (when I could do so safely) and watched him/her for a few minutes before he/she ambled off into the woods. Because of the rock retaining wall, I never saw his/her full body -- only his/her head and back. Thus, I was not able to get a good photo. He/she was not in the mood apparently to mug for my camera. But I saw a bear!!!
A few miles up the road, I came upon road construction and a flag person, who told me that the (only) road was closed, and they would let me/us through only on the hour, every hour. It was 8:20 am, so I had to sit there for 45 minutes and wait for them to let me up the road. What a drag.
Once through the construction zone, I climbed up and up and up. At around 4500 feet, there was a light dusting of snow all over everything. What had been rain for me at the campground had been snow in the higher elevations. As I went higher, the snow became deeper, and a thick layer of ice had formed on the road. At 6000 feet, I was in a winter wonderland. A deep blanket of snow covered everything. I was also driving through a forest of giant sequoia trees. Although the ice and snow on the road made driving treacherous (particularly for this Florida girl who is unaccustomed to such driving conditions), I drove slowly with my mouth agape. I was in awe of the landscape. It was one of the most beautiful things I had ever seen. A giant forest covered in virgin white snow. Truly amazing.
When I reached the Giant Forest Museum (2 miles south of General Sherman), I gladly pulled in. The driving conditions were continuing to deteriorate, and my knuckles had turned white on the steering wheel. I ever so carefully made my way from the parking lot to the museum through a crust of ice that covered the ground, occasionally slipping and sliding, my arms pinwheeling to right myself.
Once inside this fine heated building, I discovered that it was 29 degrees outside, and there was a 20% chance of more snow. Even more disappointing was the fact that there was now a driving restriction on the main road -- chains or snow tires were mandatory from that point forward. I had neither, nor the experience to drive with them even if I had them. The ranger suggested that I walk a trail 2 miles to General Sherman, but the trail was hip deep in snow, and I have only tennis shoes to walk in. I was soooo disappointed. I could not even see the General.
The ranger was unsure when/if the road would open without restriction, so I decided to go back down the mountain to the visitor's center and re-group. Of course, I had to sit through the road closing at the construction zone again. Thus, it was nearly 11:30 by the time I got back down the mountain. At the visitor's center, it was sunny and bright and 53 degrees!
A ranger there suggested that I drive to the north entrance of the park by going back into the valley and driving north for an hour and a half. There was another large forest of sequoia trees up there, and the roads were all open and unrestricted. He even showed me a "shortcut" up a county road. Lesson learned: never, never, never trust a park ranger.
The shortcut was the narrowest (often one lane), most twisty-turny road I have ever been on. If I were prone to car sickness, this road would have had me retching out the window. Once I was on it, there were no intersecting roads, so I was stuck. I pressed on, but it was grueling. At the end, I once again began climbing into the mountains. Although the road was clear, I encountered snow again at 4500. It got heavier the higher I went. By the time I made it to the park entrance, the snow was several feet thick. The temperature was hovering at freezing again. The snow was deeper and more significant than it had been at the south entrance. I wondered why the ranger had sent my up here. The campgrounds were buried in snow, and I would have had to camp on the snow, which would have been cold, cold, cold. Needless, to say I was a little frustrated by the turn of events. There was fog that had descended on the park, as well, so visibility was minimal. Although the roads were open, I did not really want to explore the park under these conditions.
I have an aunt and uncle, whom I haven't seen in 15 years, living east of Sacramento, so I called them, and they invited me to come join them. Once I drove back down into the valley, it took me four and a half hours to reach them. Thus, it was a brutally long day of driving. My plan is to stay a day and head back to the parks. The general consensus was that the freak snow storm that had hit the parks was the last of the season and would be gone by Thursday. It is supposed to be 88 degrees in the parks by the end of the week. I would much rather explore when the sky is clear and the temp is reasonable.
I enjoyed visiting with my aunt and uncle during the evening, catching up on lost time. I will get to sleep in a bed again and have a shower -- both well worth the drive.
During previous nights while camping in the woods, I gave very little thought to crawling out of my tent and walking to the bathroom when necessary, except, perhaps, to lament that it was cold, and I didn't want to leave the warmth of my sleeping bag. Last night, however, I was in bear country and had been warned repeatedly that they were "out there." Although the bathhouse was lighted, there were, of course, no lights between it and my campsite. All I had was a headlamp that cast a bright, but limited, glow at my feet. In fact, I made a point not to scan the horizon with it, for fear of what I might find (and so as not to disturb the other campers in the middle of the night). On my way back to my campsite, however, I lifted my head and looked over at a campsite across the road. My headlamp caught the orange glow of two beady eyes staring back at me. They were close to the ground, so they did not belong to a bear, but I had no idea what they might be attached to -- and didn't really want to know -- so I scampered back to my tent and hopped in. It was a bit unsettling. I normally try not to let my imagination run wild while sleeping outdoors. After all, I am, when sleeping, in a semiconscious state, and all that separates me from the wild animals in whose home I am sleeping, is a thin piece of fabric that comprises my tent. Last night, however, it took me awhile to go back to sleep. The river next to me was roaring so loudly that anything that might be investigating me would not be heard scampering around over the din of the rushing water.
Now back in the mountains, I awoke to a wet, soggy tent and trees dripping with moisture from the rain that came during the night. It wasn't much, but it was enough to dampen everything through and through. The dampness also made the cold air (32 degrees when I awoke) feel that much colder. As usual, I quickly (though not as quickly as when I'm in the warm desert) broke camp and made coffee. Breakfast would be a bowl of cereal (cold) and pop tarts.
Because I go to bed early and awaken early, I usually enjoy a good two hours in the morning exploring the park without other people. There's no other traffic on the road, and no one else in my space. I like that a lot. This morning, however, my timing was a little off. I set off about 8:00 am and decided to drive up the park road to the Giant Forest, wherein lies General Sherman, the biggest living Sequoia tree. On my way up the twisty-turny mountain road, I came around a horseshoe bend and on my right, on the other side of a low rock retaining wall, was the mug of black bear, munching on the flora and fauna. His/her face was only three feet from my passenger window, and he/she looked right at me, totally unconcerned with my sudden presence in a vehicle. I stopped the car a few yards up the road (when I could do so safely) and watched him/her for a few minutes before he/she ambled off into the woods. Because of the rock retaining wall, I never saw his/her full body -- only his/her head and back. Thus, I was not able to get a good photo. He/she was not in the mood apparently to mug for my camera. But I saw a bear!!!
A few miles up the road, I came upon road construction and a flag person, who told me that the (only) road was closed, and they would let me/us through only on the hour, every hour. It was 8:20 am, so I had to sit there for 45 minutes and wait for them to let me up the road. What a drag.
Once through the construction zone, I climbed up and up and up. At around 4500 feet, there was a light dusting of snow all over everything. What had been rain for me at the campground had been snow in the higher elevations. As I went higher, the snow became deeper, and a thick layer of ice had formed on the road. At 6000 feet, I was in a winter wonderland. A deep blanket of snow covered everything. I was also driving through a forest of giant sequoia trees. Although the ice and snow on the road made driving treacherous (particularly for this Florida girl who is unaccustomed to such driving conditions), I drove slowly with my mouth agape. I was in awe of the landscape. It was one of the most beautiful things I had ever seen. A giant forest covered in virgin white snow. Truly amazing.
When I reached the Giant Forest Museum (2 miles south of General Sherman), I gladly pulled in. The driving conditions were continuing to deteriorate, and my knuckles had turned white on the steering wheel. I ever so carefully made my way from the parking lot to the museum through a crust of ice that covered the ground, occasionally slipping and sliding, my arms pinwheeling to right myself.
Once inside this fine heated building, I discovered that it was 29 degrees outside, and there was a 20% chance of more snow. Even more disappointing was the fact that there was now a driving restriction on the main road -- chains or snow tires were mandatory from that point forward. I had neither, nor the experience to drive with them even if I had them. The ranger suggested that I walk a trail 2 miles to General Sherman, but the trail was hip deep in snow, and I have only tennis shoes to walk in. I was soooo disappointed. I could not even see the General.
The ranger was unsure when/if the road would open without restriction, so I decided to go back down the mountain to the visitor's center and re-group. Of course, I had to sit through the road closing at the construction zone again. Thus, it was nearly 11:30 by the time I got back down the mountain. At the visitor's center, it was sunny and bright and 53 degrees!
A ranger there suggested that I drive to the north entrance of the park by going back into the valley and driving north for an hour and a half. There was another large forest of sequoia trees up there, and the roads were all open and unrestricted. He even showed me a "shortcut" up a county road. Lesson learned: never, never, never trust a park ranger.
The shortcut was the narrowest (often one lane), most twisty-turny road I have ever been on. If I were prone to car sickness, this road would have had me retching out the window. Once I was on it, there were no intersecting roads, so I was stuck. I pressed on, but it was grueling. At the end, I once again began climbing into the mountains. Although the road was clear, I encountered snow again at 4500. It got heavier the higher I went. By the time I made it to the park entrance, the snow was several feet thick. The temperature was hovering at freezing again. The snow was deeper and more significant than it had been at the south entrance. I wondered why the ranger had sent my up here. The campgrounds were buried in snow, and I would have had to camp on the snow, which would have been cold, cold, cold. Needless, to say I was a little frustrated by the turn of events. There was fog that had descended on the park, as well, so visibility was minimal. Although the roads were open, I did not really want to explore the park under these conditions.
I have an aunt and uncle, whom I haven't seen in 15 years, living east of Sacramento, so I called them, and they invited me to come join them. Once I drove back down into the valley, it took me four and a half hours to reach them. Thus, it was a brutally long day of driving. My plan is to stay a day and head back to the parks. The general consensus was that the freak snow storm that had hit the parks was the last of the season and would be gone by Thursday. It is supposed to be 88 degrees in the parks by the end of the week. I would much rather explore when the sky is clear and the temp is reasonable.
I enjoyed visiting with my aunt and uncle during the evening, catching up on lost time. I will get to sleep in a bed again and have a shower -- both well worth the drive.
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
May 10 -- Sequoia National Park
I'm in heaven!!! I've had some fabulous days so far this trip, but today was pretty special, and all I did was drive.
First of all, I slept like a rock. Beds are the bomb! I tried to watch TV for the first time in a month, but quickly muted it. Too much noise. The motel had a continental breakfast, so I tanked up before I hit the road.
I headed west from Barstow to Bakersfield on a sometimes two-lane and sometimes four-lane federal highway jammed with long-haul tractor trailers. Thank goodness for passing lanes. On my way, I crossed the Pacific Crest Trail, which heads north between Mojave and Tehachapi. I didn't see any hiker trash anywhere near the roadcrossing, so I went into Tehachapi to find Mama Hillybean's Cafe, a hiker-friendly joint. I sadly discovered that Mama Hillybean's closed down in January. Too bad. Every town needs an eclectic, liberal java hangout. While in town, however, I managed to discover a German bakery and had coffee and a cinnamon crisp. Double yum!
From there, I went to the post office to check out the PCT register (where hikers sign in and leave messages). There were only two entries for this year, and both were several weeks old. Tehachapi (and Mojave) require a hitch into town, so some hikers don't bother and resupply elsewhere along the trail. This might account for the lack of entries in the register. Or, because the post office is somewhat disconnected from the other services in town, hikers who came to Tehachapi might not have bothered to go to the post office just to sign the register, unless they had mailed themselves a resupply package there.
My renewed trail-angeling duties complete, I hit the road again and made my way to Bakersfield. What a beautiful drive over and through the Tehachapi Mountains. Instead of taking the same federal highway north to Sequoia NP, I took a state road (also a truck route, unfortunately), and it was a delightful trip. I stopped for a lunch in Porterville, mainly to visit the library. California is undergoing a significant budget crisis, like so many other states, so many libraries are closed on Mondays or have severely limited hours. I knew from an internet search that the Porterville library was open today. I was determined to upload a week's worth of photos for you all to enjoy (my camera will hold thousands, so I don't have to do it; I just wanted to). Unfortunately, the library's computer wouldn't let me run a necessary program to allow me to upload hundreds of photos within minutes (I think I had taken 200+ photos since the Grand Canyon). Rather, I could upload only five photos at a time, which takes about five minutes. There was no way I could spend that amount of time in the library. I had places to go and things to see and do. Sorry.
I stopped again a few miles up the road in Lindsay (home of the Lindsay olives), but their library, once I found it, was closed on Mondays. You can't say I didn't try, peeps. You'll just have to wait a few more days.
What made the ride up this state road so interesting and exceptional was that I began traveling through the agricultural part of California. I passed through miles of hay fields and/or free-roaming cattle and horse farms. I then hit the citrus belt. I drove through tens of miles of citrus groves. Most of the trees had been picked clean and were beginning to bloom. I used to live in Indian River County in Florida, which is the home of Florida citrus, so I knew well the cloyingly sweet smell of citrus blooms, mixed with the pungently rotten smell of decaying fruit left on the ground. It is a smell like no other.
Mixed among the citrus groves were acres upon acres of grapes, olive, and cherry trees. I had never seen olive or cherry trees, so they were neat to see. Olive trees are really unusual. I was also fortunate enough to find a roadside stand, selling bing cherries that had been hand-picked the day before just down the road. Four bucks bought me a quart-sized Ziploc baggie stuffed full, so I gorged for several miles. They were so sweet!
Just north of Lindsay, I headed east into the Sierra Nevada, a long mountain chain that is host to Sequoia and Kings Canyon National Parks. While I was still in the arid desert this morning, with strong winds blowing around the dust that is the top soil for that area, I am now in the lush, green mountains. The air is moist again (my skin and sinuses are grateful), and everything is in bloom here, too.
I arrived at Sequoia National Park at 4:45 pm after a long day of driving, but it was worth it. I'm so excited to be here. It is so different from where I have been for two weeks. The campground had vacancies (yeah, so late in the day), and I am camped next to the raging Kaweah River, which is swollen from the runoff of melting snow in the higher elevations. It's raining somewhat, but I don't mind. I've had a dry two weeks. It's about time it rained. The ONLY annoying thing is the mosquitos. They are out with a vengeance.
Bears have been a problem here lately, as well. I/we have been warned to put anything -- and I mean anything -- with a scent inside large bear-proof boxes that have been provided with every campsite. Although I haven't seen one yet, the bears are supposedly active in the camground day and night and have already broken into two cars in the past week. So I have dutifully stowed all of my smelly belongings in the bear box, as directed.
I'm now sitting out the rain in my car, typing this blog post, waiting for the sun to go down. About an hour ago, I was having a snack at my picnic table when a doe ambled by within 10 feet of me. Unfortunately, she seemed habituated to humans and acted as if she would have taken food from my hand had I offered her some, which I did not. She flicked her ears at me and slowly walked to the next campsite and beyond. That was a pretty cool dinner guest.
Well, I could go on, but I've written a book and have drained my battery, and it's nearly time for bed. The rain seems to have stopped, so I can move about without rain gear. I wish I had more time to spend here. I will hardly be able to hit the highlights, so vast is this place. Perhaps I will be forced to return sometime soon to enjoy it more leisurely.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless Phone
First of all, I slept like a rock. Beds are the bomb! I tried to watch TV for the first time in a month, but quickly muted it. Too much noise. The motel had a continental breakfast, so I tanked up before I hit the road.
I headed west from Barstow to Bakersfield on a sometimes two-lane and sometimes four-lane federal highway jammed with long-haul tractor trailers. Thank goodness for passing lanes. On my way, I crossed the Pacific Crest Trail, which heads north between Mojave and Tehachapi. I didn't see any hiker trash anywhere near the roadcrossing, so I went into Tehachapi to find Mama Hillybean's Cafe, a hiker-friendly joint. I sadly discovered that Mama Hillybean's closed down in January. Too bad. Every town needs an eclectic, liberal java hangout. While in town, however, I managed to discover a German bakery and had coffee and a cinnamon crisp. Double yum!
From there, I went to the post office to check out the PCT register (where hikers sign in and leave messages). There were only two entries for this year, and both were several weeks old. Tehachapi (and Mojave) require a hitch into town, so some hikers don't bother and resupply elsewhere along the trail. This might account for the lack of entries in the register. Or, because the post office is somewhat disconnected from the other services in town, hikers who came to Tehachapi might not have bothered to go to the post office just to sign the register, unless they had mailed themselves a resupply package there.
My renewed trail-angeling duties complete, I hit the road again and made my way to Bakersfield. What a beautiful drive over and through the Tehachapi Mountains. Instead of taking the same federal highway north to Sequoia NP, I took a state road (also a truck route, unfortunately), and it was a delightful trip. I stopped for a lunch in Porterville, mainly to visit the library. California is undergoing a significant budget crisis, like so many other states, so many libraries are closed on Mondays or have severely limited hours. I knew from an internet search that the Porterville library was open today. I was determined to upload a week's worth of photos for you all to enjoy (my camera will hold thousands, so I don't have to do it; I just wanted to). Unfortunately, the library's computer wouldn't let me run a necessary program to allow me to upload hundreds of photos within minutes (I think I had taken 200+ photos since the Grand Canyon). Rather, I could upload only five photos at a time, which takes about five minutes. There was no way I could spend that amount of time in the library. I had places to go and things to see and do. Sorry.
I stopped again a few miles up the road in Lindsay (home of the Lindsay olives), but their library, once I found it, was closed on Mondays. You can't say I didn't try, peeps. You'll just have to wait a few more days.
What made the ride up this state road so interesting and exceptional was that I began traveling through the agricultural part of California. I passed through miles of hay fields and/or free-roaming cattle and horse farms. I then hit the citrus belt. I drove through tens of miles of citrus groves. Most of the trees had been picked clean and were beginning to bloom. I used to live in Indian River County in Florida, which is the home of Florida citrus, so I knew well the cloyingly sweet smell of citrus blooms, mixed with the pungently rotten smell of decaying fruit left on the ground. It is a smell like no other.
Mixed among the citrus groves were acres upon acres of grapes, olive, and cherry trees. I had never seen olive or cherry trees, so they were neat to see. Olive trees are really unusual. I was also fortunate enough to find a roadside stand, selling bing cherries that had been hand-picked the day before just down the road. Four bucks bought me a quart-sized Ziploc baggie stuffed full, so I gorged for several miles. They were so sweet!
Just north of Lindsay, I headed east into the Sierra Nevada, a long mountain chain that is host to Sequoia and Kings Canyon National Parks. While I was still in the arid desert this morning, with strong winds blowing around the dust that is the top soil for that area, I am now in the lush, green mountains. The air is moist again (my skin and sinuses are grateful), and everything is in bloom here, too.
I arrived at Sequoia National Park at 4:45 pm after a long day of driving, but it was worth it. I'm so excited to be here. It is so different from where I have been for two weeks. The campground had vacancies (yeah, so late in the day), and I am camped next to the raging Kaweah River, which is swollen from the runoff of melting snow in the higher elevations. It's raining somewhat, but I don't mind. I've had a dry two weeks. It's about time it rained. The ONLY annoying thing is the mosquitos. They are out with a vengeance.
Bears have been a problem here lately, as well. I/we have been warned to put anything -- and I mean anything -- with a scent inside large bear-proof boxes that have been provided with every campsite. Although I haven't seen one yet, the bears are supposedly active in the camground day and night and have already broken into two cars in the past week. So I have dutifully stowed all of my smelly belongings in the bear box, as directed.
I'm now sitting out the rain in my car, typing this blog post, waiting for the sun to go down. About an hour ago, I was having a snack at my picnic table when a doe ambled by within 10 feet of me. Unfortunately, she seemed habituated to humans and acted as if she would have taken food from my hand had I offered her some, which I did not. She flicked her ears at me and slowly walked to the next campsite and beyond. That was a pretty cool dinner guest.
Well, I could go on, but I've written a book and have drained my battery, and it's nearly time for bed. The rain seems to have stopped, so I can move about without rain gear. I wish I had more time to spend here. I will hardly be able to hit the highlights, so vast is this place. Perhaps I will be forced to return sometime soon to enjoy it more leisurely.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless Phone
Monday, May 10, 2010
May 9 -- Barstow, CA
Today was one of the best and worst days of my trip. The best part was the trail I hiked in the morning. It was a backcountry trail, so there was virtually no one there, except a couple out backpacking. I hiked about 4-5 miles (2 hours) up the trail to a petrified forest. Trees that were once wood had been petrified into stone and were laying on the ground, mostly in pieces, although some were relatively intact. It was cool to see, knowing that they were so incredibly old and the result of a cataclysmic time in history.
By the time I hiked back out, it was almost 12:30 pm, so I left the park and headed toward civilization. It was my intention to stay in a motel tonight, either in St. George or in Las Vegas. I made it to St. George, however, so early in the afternoon that I didn't want to stop yet. I didn't know what I would do there for an entire afternoon. On my way, I stopped in a Walmart and was somewhat overwhelmed to be back in civilization. I had been out in the woods for nearly two weeks. It was strange to be in a big box store with people who were not camping and vacationing.
I decided to press on to Las Vegas. It would be another two hour drive on I-15, but that was fine. It would get me closer to my next destination: Sequoia National Park in California. Driving on the interstate is never fun to me. From the moment I decided to keep driving, my day got progressively worse. Winds were blowing at 20-30 mph, with gusts near 40 mph. Dust and debris were flying. By the time I got to Las Vegas, I could hardly see the city. I was a giant dust bowl, so fierce were the winds. The traffic became a nightmare, and I couldn't wait to get off the interstate. My plan was to drive through the city and find a motel/hotel on the other side. When I got there, however, it was nothing but a residential community. All of the motels, aside from the casinos, were on the east side of the city. I did not want to drive back through that mess, so I decided to keep going. See the city, even if just from a moving car, I was overwhelmed by the density and the number of people. Once I got there, I had no interest in being among them, even to see the sights of famous Las Vegas.
Unfortunately, once I left the city, there was nothing -- absolutely nothing -- for several more hours. Nevada, and the eastern side of California, is a desert wasteland. I was so tired, the winds were pushing me all over the road, and the traffic was absolutely bumper to bumper for 150 miles. So congested was I-15 that I crept for 20 miles just because of the volume of traffic. Of course, everyone was weaving and flying. The speed limit was 70, but most were trying to go 85 or more. It was incredible stressful, especially after being in relative isolation for so long.
Around 6:30 pm, I finally made it to Barstow, CA, and found a motel. I was absolutely wasted. It had been 3 days since I had showered, so that became my first priority. It was delightful. I'm clean now, so I'm happy, the day nearly forgotten -- at least the bad part. I will be sleeping in a bed tonight -- my first in nearly two weeks. I can't wait. In fact, I'm not going to wait. I'm going to bed right now, so I'll talk to you tomorrow.
P.S. Happy Mother's Day, Mom!
By the time I hiked back out, it was almost 12:30 pm, so I left the park and headed toward civilization. It was my intention to stay in a motel tonight, either in St. George or in Las Vegas. I made it to St. George, however, so early in the afternoon that I didn't want to stop yet. I didn't know what I would do there for an entire afternoon. On my way, I stopped in a Walmart and was somewhat overwhelmed to be back in civilization. I had been out in the woods for nearly two weeks. It was strange to be in a big box store with people who were not camping and vacationing.
I decided to press on to Las Vegas. It would be another two hour drive on I-15, but that was fine. It would get me closer to my next destination: Sequoia National Park in California. Driving on the interstate is never fun to me. From the moment I decided to keep driving, my day got progressively worse. Winds were blowing at 20-30 mph, with gusts near 40 mph. Dust and debris were flying. By the time I got to Las Vegas, I could hardly see the city. I was a giant dust bowl, so fierce were the winds. The traffic became a nightmare, and I couldn't wait to get off the interstate. My plan was to drive through the city and find a motel/hotel on the other side. When I got there, however, it was nothing but a residential community. All of the motels, aside from the casinos, were on the east side of the city. I did not want to drive back through that mess, so I decided to keep going. See the city, even if just from a moving car, I was overwhelmed by the density and the number of people. Once I got there, I had no interest in being among them, even to see the sights of famous Las Vegas.
Unfortunately, once I left the city, there was nothing -- absolutely nothing -- for several more hours. Nevada, and the eastern side of California, is a desert wasteland. I was so tired, the winds were pushing me all over the road, and the traffic was absolutely bumper to bumper for 150 miles. So congested was I-15 that I crept for 20 miles just because of the volume of traffic. Of course, everyone was weaving and flying. The speed limit was 70, but most were trying to go 85 or more. It was incredible stressful, especially after being in relative isolation for so long.
Around 6:30 pm, I finally made it to Barstow, CA, and found a motel. I was absolutely wasted. It had been 3 days since I had showered, so that became my first priority. It was delightful. I'm clean now, so I'm happy, the day nearly forgotten -- at least the bad part. I will be sleeping in a bed tonight -- my first in nearly two weeks. I can't wait. In fact, I'm not going to wait. I'm going to bed right now, so I'll talk to you tomorrow.
P.S. Happy Mother's Day, Mom!
May 7 -- Bryce Canyon National Park
The thermometer in my car read 32 degrees when I left the Kodachrome Basin campground at 6:30 this morning. I stayed toasty last night, however, in my down sleeping bag. It must have been the apple and peanut butter I had for dinner just before I crashed for the night.
As I drove out of the park and into a valley, the temp dropped to 24 degrees. I'm glad I wasn't staying there, instead. A few miles up the road, I ran through this tiny town named Tropic (it was anything but) and stopped for breakfast at this quaint little restaurant that obviously catered to the tourist headed to or out of Bryce Canyon. Hot coffee was delicious after a frosty night.
I arrived at Bryce around 8:00 am and headed to the campground, hoping I could land a spot before it filled up. One thing I've learned about the national park campgrounds is that they are very popular and often fill up before 10 am. This early in the morning, the campground was deserted, so I had my pick. Since the park is at 8000 feet, there is still snow on the ground, though not an extraordinary amount, so I got to stomp around in some after I set up camp. To this Florida girl, that's fun.
When I arrived, it was 29 degrees and stayed that way for several hours. Rather than hit the trails and freeze to death, I drove 18 miles to the end of the park road and then stopped at all the scenic outlooks on the way back up the road. They were gorgeous.
By 1:00 pm, it had warmed to a balmy 48 degrees, so I ate lunch and hit the trails. The park started its shuttle service today, so I took advantage of it and left my car at the campground. My first hike was on the Queen's Garden trail, which took me down 320 feet in less than a mile. I could hardly walk for all the photos I was taking. This park is known for its hoodoos, which are spires that rise from the canyon floor that have been eroded by water or the weather. They are multi-colored and of all different sizes and shapes. They are truly magnificent. The Paiute (spelling?) Indians believed that the rocks are men who were turned to stone by the trickster coyote. I wonder what they were smoking when they decided that?
At the bottom of the canyon, people had built cairns (stacks of rocks) and made a cairn garden. There were hundreds of them in all shapes and configurations. It was an interesting site.
The climb back to the rim was not nearly as fun as the hike down into the canyon. It was a seemingly endless serious of switchbacks that went up and up and up. At 8000 feet, it was difficult to breathe, at least for a Florida girl used to living at sea level. But I made it and was happy that I had chosen that trail. From there, I walked along the rim for several more miles, sometimes in snow, until I arrived at the last bus stop on route. It would take me back to the campground.
By the time I got back, it was early evening and already starting to get cold. It's supposed to be 26 degrees tonight. Incredibly I have cell service and have made a few calls to friends (you know who you are) and am now typing this blog post. My phone battery is about to die, however (bluetooth to the keyboard is a power hog), so I need to wrap this up.
Tomorrow, I will head to Zion National Park, which is only an hour and a half away. I will try to get there early to score a campsite in the park. They fill up quickly, so I will have to make tracks. Talk to you later!
As I drove out of the park and into a valley, the temp dropped to 24 degrees. I'm glad I wasn't staying there, instead. A few miles up the road, I ran through this tiny town named Tropic (it was anything but) and stopped for breakfast at this quaint little restaurant that obviously catered to the tourist headed to or out of Bryce Canyon. Hot coffee was delicious after a frosty night.
I arrived at Bryce around 8:00 am and headed to the campground, hoping I could land a spot before it filled up. One thing I've learned about the national park campgrounds is that they are very popular and often fill up before 10 am. This early in the morning, the campground was deserted, so I had my pick. Since the park is at 8000 feet, there is still snow on the ground, though not an extraordinary amount, so I got to stomp around in some after I set up camp. To this Florida girl, that's fun.
When I arrived, it was 29 degrees and stayed that way for several hours. Rather than hit the trails and freeze to death, I drove 18 miles to the end of the park road and then stopped at all the scenic outlooks on the way back up the road. They were gorgeous.
By 1:00 pm, it had warmed to a balmy 48 degrees, so I ate lunch and hit the trails. The park started its shuttle service today, so I took advantage of it and left my car at the campground. My first hike was on the Queen's Garden trail, which took me down 320 feet in less than a mile. I could hardly walk for all the photos I was taking. This park is known for its hoodoos, which are spires that rise from the canyon floor that have been eroded by water or the weather. They are multi-colored and of all different sizes and shapes. They are truly magnificent. The Paiute (spelling?) Indians believed that the rocks are men who were turned to stone by the trickster coyote. I wonder what they were smoking when they decided that?
At the bottom of the canyon, people had built cairns (stacks of rocks) and made a cairn garden. There were hundreds of them in all shapes and configurations. It was an interesting site.
The climb back to the rim was not nearly as fun as the hike down into the canyon. It was a seemingly endless serious of switchbacks that went up and up and up. At 8000 feet, it was difficult to breathe, at least for a Florida girl used to living at sea level. But I made it and was happy that I had chosen that trail. From there, I walked along the rim for several more miles, sometimes in snow, until I arrived at the last bus stop on route. It would take me back to the campground.
By the time I got back, it was early evening and already starting to get cold. It's supposed to be 26 degrees tonight. Incredibly I have cell service and have made a few calls to friends (you know who you are) and am now typing this blog post. My phone battery is about to die, however (bluetooth to the keyboard is a power hog), so I need to wrap this up.
Tomorrow, I will head to Zion National Park, which is only an hour and a half away. I will try to get there early to score a campsite in the park. They fill up quickly, so I will have to make tracks. Talk to you later!
Saturday, May 8, 2010
May 8 -- Zion National Park
And I thought 32 was cold the night before. It was 27 at Bryce Canyon last night. Unfortunately, I didn't eat enough before I went to bed (which is key), so I was cold most of the night. As I usually do, I awoke with the sun and reluctantly crawled out of my sleeping bag around 6:15 am. I quickly tore down my tent, stuffed everything in the car, and headed toward the nearest place that served hot coffee. I can make coffee with my alcohol stove, but it takes a few minutes. Meanwhile, I shiver while I wait. I'd rather just pay someone to make it for me. Better yet, I'd rather pay someone to make me breakfast while they're at it.
The only game in town was just outside the park gates. Being the only game in town, meant it was pricey. But you can't put a price on warmth when your fingers and toes are numb. I enjoyed their breakfast buffet and four cups of coffee (with real half and half, my favorite). Then I hit the road.
It was only an hour and a half to the park, along another scenic byway. The drive through the park was twisty-turny, and there was a really long tunnel that had been blasted out of the mountainside. It was VERY narrow and dark, but pretty neat to drive through nonetheless. I didn't stop at any of the turnouts on the road to the campground, because I wanted to get there before it filled up. Check-out time is eleven, but it's a weekend, so I wanted to get there early and snag a spot. I did, but just barely. Not many people were leaving, because of the weekend. Thus, it's rather crowded, but still beautiful, as it's surrounded by high rock walls on every side. The Virgin River runs along the edge of it. I couldn't find a spot near the river, but I can still hear it faintly from where I am.
It took me awhile to get situated today. I'm kind of tired from all the traveling and sleeping on the ground in the cold. I didn't really get moving until well after noon. I walked over to the visitor's center, then hopped on a bus that took me to places in the park that you're not allowed to drive. I hiked several trails and took lots of photos, then headed back to the campground for a late lunch, which consisted of a peanut butter and honey sandwich.
I was going to do some more hiking after lunch, but I really, really wanted to do laundry and bathe, if possible. There's a small touristy town just outside the park boundary, so I drove there and found a laundromat. Ahhh, fresh clothes. It's been nearly a week, or at least since the Grand Canyon, whenever that was. I tried to find a shower, but no luck. This will be night two without one, which is pushing my limit (I know, I'm spoiled; what can I say?). So I have clean clothes on a not so fresh body. Hmmm. I'm thinking about heading to Las Vegas tomorrow, just to sleep in a bed and take a shower. I need some down time.
But first, I'm planning on hiking four miles into a canyon on a little-used trail recommended by a park ranger at the visitor's center. I had intended to hike into The Narrows, which is a trail up the riverbed of the Virgin River where the canyon walls converge into a slot canyon, which is supposed to be the bombdiggity. But, alas, it's closed. Too early in the season. The park will let you hike the riverbed only if the water is running less than 140 feet per second. Right now, it's running 588. That's too swift. So I'm disappointed about that, but this other trail is supposed to be really nice, so I'll see what it's like on my way out of the park tomorrow.
It's only supposed to be in the low 50's tonight, so that's good. Maybe I'll actually get some sleep. But I'm still dreaming of a bed. Perhaps tomorrow night.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless Phone
The only game in town was just outside the park gates. Being the only game in town, meant it was pricey. But you can't put a price on warmth when your fingers and toes are numb. I enjoyed their breakfast buffet and four cups of coffee (with real half and half, my favorite). Then I hit the road.
It was only an hour and a half to the park, along another scenic byway. The drive through the park was twisty-turny, and there was a really long tunnel that had been blasted out of the mountainside. It was VERY narrow and dark, but pretty neat to drive through nonetheless. I didn't stop at any of the turnouts on the road to the campground, because I wanted to get there before it filled up. Check-out time is eleven, but it's a weekend, so I wanted to get there early and snag a spot. I did, but just barely. Not many people were leaving, because of the weekend. Thus, it's rather crowded, but still beautiful, as it's surrounded by high rock walls on every side. The Virgin River runs along the edge of it. I couldn't find a spot near the river, but I can still hear it faintly from where I am.
It took me awhile to get situated today. I'm kind of tired from all the traveling and sleeping on the ground in the cold. I didn't really get moving until well after noon. I walked over to the visitor's center, then hopped on a bus that took me to places in the park that you're not allowed to drive. I hiked several trails and took lots of photos, then headed back to the campground for a late lunch, which consisted of a peanut butter and honey sandwich.
I was going to do some more hiking after lunch, but I really, really wanted to do laundry and bathe, if possible. There's a small touristy town just outside the park boundary, so I drove there and found a laundromat. Ahhh, fresh clothes. It's been nearly a week, or at least since the Grand Canyon, whenever that was. I tried to find a shower, but no luck. This will be night two without one, which is pushing my limit (I know, I'm spoiled; what can I say?). So I have clean clothes on a not so fresh body. Hmmm. I'm thinking about heading to Las Vegas tomorrow, just to sleep in a bed and take a shower. I need some down time.
But first, I'm planning on hiking four miles into a canyon on a little-used trail recommended by a park ranger at the visitor's center. I had intended to hike into The Narrows, which is a trail up the riverbed of the Virgin River where the canyon walls converge into a slot canyon, which is supposed to be the bombdiggity. But, alas, it's closed. Too early in the season. The park will let you hike the riverbed only if the water is running less than 140 feet per second. Right now, it's running 588. That's too swift. So I'm disappointed about that, but this other trail is supposed to be really nice, so I'll see what it's like on my way out of the park tomorrow.
It's only supposed to be in the low 50's tonight, so that's good. Maybe I'll actually get some sleep. But I'm still dreaming of a bed. Perhaps tomorrow night.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless Phone
Friday, May 7, 2010
May 6 -- Capitol Reef NP
Thankfully, there was no rain last night. However, the winds howled all night, but I slept reasonably well, as it was only 55 degrees or so. I hit the road fairly early, taking a scenic byway to Capitol Reef National Park. The first 40 miles or so were somewhat unnervingly desolate. I am always mindful of breaking down, a single woman out in the middle of nowhere, needing the assistance of who know's what that comes along. Hence, my apprehension this morning.
Not to worry, every now and again I would pass through little blips on the road that called themselves towns, though I would be pressed to call them even a community, so small were the number of buildings. Gas was $3.39 at my last stop, but thankfully the SUV I rented (a Jeep Compass) is getting nearly 30 miles to the gallon. Not bad.
The last few miles into Capitol Reef were exceptionally lovely. The rock walls that towered above me were layered with different colors of sandstone -- from deep red, to grey, to tan. Capitol Reef is not a multi-featured park. There are a few short trails to an arch or to petroglyphs, and there are longer backpacking trails into the canyons, but mainly you just admire the beauty of the rock formations and the general landscape.
After a few short hikes and a trip to the visitor's center, I left Capitol Reef and continued west toward Bryce Canyon NP, my next stop. Again, I followed the scenic byway, which traversed many miles through the Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument, which is not really a "monument" at all. It's more of a vast area of land (more than two million acres) that features all of the various striations in the earth. A visitor's guide I received when I stopped for lunch at a campground describes it thusly: "The Grand Staircase -- the Chocolate, Vermilion, White, Gray, and Pink cliffs -- spans five different life zones from high desert to coniferous forests. It is a masterpiece of geological and biological diversity." In other words, it was beautiful -- probably the most beautiful scenery I've traveled through this trip, and I've traveled through some amazing terrain.
My destination for the night is Kodachrome Basin State Park. It's about 30 miles from Bryce Canyon NP. It's somewhat out of the way, but I didn't have confidence that I would find a spot late in the day at Bryce Canyon, so I took a chance. When I arrived around 3:00 pm, there were only two sites left, so I snatched one up.
As with the other state parks at which I've stayed, this one was lovely. It was very well designed, it was clean, and best of all, it had showers. I get to bathe two nights in a row!
After setting up camp, I hit the trails, of which there were many. As the name implies, the rock walls are multi-hued and contain many of the same features I have been seeing for days -- spires, balancing rocks, fins, hoodoos, and arches. The air is crisp and clear, and the vistas are expansive.
As night has fallen, the air has chilled exponentially. My fingers are cold, and I will soon be forced into my sleeping bag to stay warm. The park ranger warned me that it will be in the low 30's or upper 20's tonight.
Tomorrow, I'm off to Bryce Canyon NP, which is rumored to be one of the best, if not THE best, park in this Utah chain I am visiting. It's hard to believe, since I have seen some exceptional parks so far, but I hope the rumors are true. I'll let you know tomorrow (if I have cell service).
Sent from my Verizon Wireless Phone
Not to worry, every now and again I would pass through little blips on the road that called themselves towns, though I would be pressed to call them even a community, so small were the number of buildings. Gas was $3.39 at my last stop, but thankfully the SUV I rented (a Jeep Compass) is getting nearly 30 miles to the gallon. Not bad.
The last few miles into Capitol Reef were exceptionally lovely. The rock walls that towered above me were layered with different colors of sandstone -- from deep red, to grey, to tan. Capitol Reef is not a multi-featured park. There are a few short trails to an arch or to petroglyphs, and there are longer backpacking trails into the canyons, but mainly you just admire the beauty of the rock formations and the general landscape.
After a few short hikes and a trip to the visitor's center, I left Capitol Reef and continued west toward Bryce Canyon NP, my next stop. Again, I followed the scenic byway, which traversed many miles through the Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument, which is not really a "monument" at all. It's more of a vast area of land (more than two million acres) that features all of the various striations in the earth. A visitor's guide I received when I stopped for lunch at a campground describes it thusly: "The Grand Staircase -- the Chocolate, Vermilion, White, Gray, and Pink cliffs -- spans five different life zones from high desert to coniferous forests. It is a masterpiece of geological and biological diversity." In other words, it was beautiful -- probably the most beautiful scenery I've traveled through this trip, and I've traveled through some amazing terrain.
My destination for the night is Kodachrome Basin State Park. It's about 30 miles from Bryce Canyon NP. It's somewhat out of the way, but I didn't have confidence that I would find a spot late in the day at Bryce Canyon, so I took a chance. When I arrived around 3:00 pm, there were only two sites left, so I snatched one up.
As with the other state parks at which I've stayed, this one was lovely. It was very well designed, it was clean, and best of all, it had showers. I get to bathe two nights in a row!
After setting up camp, I hit the trails, of which there were many. As the name implies, the rock walls are multi-hued and contain many of the same features I have been seeing for days -- spires, balancing rocks, fins, hoodoos, and arches. The air is crisp and clear, and the vistas are expansive.
As night has fallen, the air has chilled exponentially. My fingers are cold, and I will soon be forced into my sleeping bag to stay warm. The park ranger warned me that it will be in the low 30's or upper 20's tonight.
Tomorrow, I'm off to Bryce Canyon NP, which is rumored to be one of the best, if not THE best, park in this Utah chain I am visiting. It's hard to believe, since I have seen some exceptional parks so far, but I hope the rumors are true. I'll let you know tomorrow (if I have cell service).
Sent from my Verizon Wireless Phone
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
May 5 -- Arches NP
When I emerged from my tent this morning, I was once again awe-struck by my surroundings. Though I couldn't see the river, I heard it. I could, however, see red rock walls towering over me in every direction. Truly amazing. I will remember it always.
Arches NP was only 15 miles or so from where I had camp, which was nice. I didn't have to drive far before I was immersed in the wonders of this national treasure. I thought today, as I have many times before, how wonderful and insightful it was for our government to set these parks aside and protect them for our use and enjoyment. They are, indeed, treasures and must be treated as such.
All I had ever heard about Arches NP came true for me today. I marveled at the architecture of the sandstone. Enormously giant boulders perched precariously on what seemed like toothpicks, poised at any moment to tumble off and crash into the earth at its feet. I learned today how arches are made in the sandstone. It's too complex for me to relate here, but suffice it to say, it's a miracle of nature and a sight to behold. I will try to post my photos as soon as possible, but it will probably be awhile, since I will remain in relative desolation for the next few days. Las Vegas will probably be my next "town stop." Trust me, the photos will be worth the wait.
Unlike Canyonlands NP, Arches is more about driving to this overlook or that short trail to an arch, than about hiking among the red-rock spires. So I spent the day driving, then hiking, then driving, then hiking. The park road was about 22 miles long (one way in and one way out), but there were intersecting roads with things to see. I probably hiked a good 6 or 7 miles today, all things considered. It was fairly easy walking, although the wind kicked up after noon and was blowing sand around pretty fiercely.
Around 3 pm, I was tired and had seen and done all that I wanted to see and do, so I decided to drive in the direction of my next stop: Capitol Reef NP. I made it to Green River, a small town off I-70. For a population of less than 1000, it sure has an awful lot of hotels/motels and RV parks. Otherwise, the town seems economically depressed. Curiously, though still in the middle of a vast desert environment, the town has a plush, green golf course smack dab in the middle of town. A small state park, where I will lay my head tonight, is in the middle of the golf course. Literally. The greens encircle the park. It's kind of weird. But the park is lush and green with the same kind of grass and is very, very lovely for a state park. It's truly an oasis in the desert. Best of all, it has showers. Unfortunately, the water pressure was such that you can't stand under the water, because it will blast the skin off your body. You literally have to jump in and out of it. But it was warm and wet, and I'm fresh as a daisy. I stopped at a store and tried to buy a 55-gallon drum of body lotion (it's so dry out here!!!), but they didn't have one. I've now applied lotion 3 times, and my skin is still cracked. What's a girl to do?
There is so little humidity, in fact, that I'm constantly shocking myself with static electricity. The other night, I was in my tent, taking off my jacket, and arcs of light were jumping off all my fingers onto the jacket. It was the weirdest thing. I thought I had left my flashlight on and it was wallowing in my sleeping bag, until I realized the light was coming from my fingers -- all of them. Too cool.
Anyway, after my shower and slather session, I went to eat at one of the only two restaurants in town. It overlooked the Green River, which is a fairly wide, brown (not green) body of water. I had a Gardenburger on grilled rye bread with swiss cheese and grilled onions. Yum! And I had a huge plate of salad from a salad bar. Double yum. I have been subsisting on junky snack foods and was craving vegetables, so I am happy! I'm as clean as a whistle, and as full as a pot-bellied pig!
I'm now back at the state park. The wind is howling. There's a 30 percent chance of rain tonight, but the wind seems too fierce for rain. It is easily gusting to 30 miles per hour. It should be interesting sleeping under such conditions. I'll let you know tomorrow how it goes. Night, all!
Sent from my Verizon Wireless Phone
Arches NP was only 15 miles or so from where I had camp, which was nice. I didn't have to drive far before I was immersed in the wonders of this national treasure. I thought today, as I have many times before, how wonderful and insightful it was for our government to set these parks aside and protect them for our use and enjoyment. They are, indeed, treasures and must be treated as such.
All I had ever heard about Arches NP came true for me today. I marveled at the architecture of the sandstone. Enormously giant boulders perched precariously on what seemed like toothpicks, poised at any moment to tumble off and crash into the earth at its feet. I learned today how arches are made in the sandstone. It's too complex for me to relate here, but suffice it to say, it's a miracle of nature and a sight to behold. I will try to post my photos as soon as possible, but it will probably be awhile, since I will remain in relative desolation for the next few days. Las Vegas will probably be my next "town stop." Trust me, the photos will be worth the wait.
Unlike Canyonlands NP, Arches is more about driving to this overlook or that short trail to an arch, than about hiking among the red-rock spires. So I spent the day driving, then hiking, then driving, then hiking. The park road was about 22 miles long (one way in and one way out), but there were intersecting roads with things to see. I probably hiked a good 6 or 7 miles today, all things considered. It was fairly easy walking, although the wind kicked up after noon and was blowing sand around pretty fiercely.
Around 3 pm, I was tired and had seen and done all that I wanted to see and do, so I decided to drive in the direction of my next stop: Capitol Reef NP. I made it to Green River, a small town off I-70. For a population of less than 1000, it sure has an awful lot of hotels/motels and RV parks. Otherwise, the town seems economically depressed. Curiously, though still in the middle of a vast desert environment, the town has a plush, green golf course smack dab in the middle of town. A small state park, where I will lay my head tonight, is in the middle of the golf course. Literally. The greens encircle the park. It's kind of weird. But the park is lush and green with the same kind of grass and is very, very lovely for a state park. It's truly an oasis in the desert. Best of all, it has showers. Unfortunately, the water pressure was such that you can't stand under the water, because it will blast the skin off your body. You literally have to jump in and out of it. But it was warm and wet, and I'm fresh as a daisy. I stopped at a store and tried to buy a 55-gallon drum of body lotion (it's so dry out here!!!), but they didn't have one. I've now applied lotion 3 times, and my skin is still cracked. What's a girl to do?
There is so little humidity, in fact, that I'm constantly shocking myself with static electricity. The other night, I was in my tent, taking off my jacket, and arcs of light were jumping off all my fingers onto the jacket. It was the weirdest thing. I thought I had left my flashlight on and it was wallowing in my sleeping bag, until I realized the light was coming from my fingers -- all of them. Too cool.
Anyway, after my shower and slather session, I went to eat at one of the only two restaurants in town. It overlooked the Green River, which is a fairly wide, brown (not green) body of water. I had a Gardenburger on grilled rye bread with swiss cheese and grilled onions. Yum! And I had a huge plate of salad from a salad bar. Double yum. I have been subsisting on junky snack foods and was craving vegetables, so I am happy! I'm as clean as a whistle, and as full as a pot-bellied pig!
I'm now back at the state park. The wind is howling. There's a 30 percent chance of rain tonight, but the wind seems too fierce for rain. It is easily gusting to 30 miles per hour. It should be interesting sleeping under such conditions. I'll let you know tomorrow how it goes. Night, all!
Sent from my Verizon Wireless Phone
May 4 -- Moab, UT
What a difference a few hundred miles can make in terms of the weather. It was a balmy 48 degrees last night, and I nearly broiled in my down sleeping bag. I'd much rather be hot than cold, though, so I'm not complaining.
I didn't realize yesterday that I had changed time zones and am now in mountain time, so it surprised me this morning when I realized that I had lost an hour. Not to worry, I will gain it back in a day or so when I return to California.
After collecting maps and brochures from the visitor's center, I explored Canyonlands NP. Out here, trails are designed to traverse huge rock structures that defy easy trail marking. Thus, they employ cairns, which are small rocks stacked or piled together every so many feet or yards. I'm not used to this and had a little difficulty this morning finding my way. I climbed two rickety ladders up the sides of two huge rock faces and was treated to a fantastic view of the park and beyond, but then I lost my way and wandered aimlessly looking for those blasted cairns for nearly half an hour. Just as I re-established myself, a couple from Seattle came along, and I hiked the rest of the trail with them for safe measure.
The next trail I attempted was almost entirely across a rock surface, but I had mastered the cairn trail-marking method and had no trouble. It was a spectacular trail with tremendous vistas, either over land or into deep canyons.
By the time I returned from that hike, it was mid-day, and I was anxious to get to Arches NP and the town of Moab, which was just before it. The couple I met on the first trial had just come from Arches and told me that the park campground was full through June, and the nearby state park campground was full, as well. However, they assured me that there were many other options, including ones maintained by the Bureau of Land Management (BLM), although they are primitive sites with vault toilets and no running water. Hmmm. Not my favored accommodations, but better than nothing, I guess.
The drive out of the park was phenomenal. From there, I skirted the La Sal mountains with their snow-capped peaks. I had been seeing them from a distance from the park. Now I was right under them and feeling their enormity.
Moab is a cute, touristy town that caters to the outdoor adventurers. I hit the gas station, the visitor's center, the general store (somewhat like a Big Lots), and the grocery store. By then, the only Thai restaurant in town was open, and I actually sat down at a table in a real restaurant (McDonald's doesn't count) and ate a meal that was prepared and served by others. As I normally do at a Thai restaurant I've not eaten at before, I ordered the Pad Thai, which is hard to screw up. It was fair as Pad Thai goes, but I still managed to eat the whole thing. Yum.
Leaving Moab, I considered getting a motel for the night, but decided I'd wait a few more nights. If I'm forced to camp in a waterless campground for more than a few nights, I will undoubtedly break down and find a real bed and a shower. Just not yet.
Just outside of Moab, I turned north on a small county road and crossed the Colorado River. The road cut through a deep canyon with red rock walls towering up on both sides, while the road skirted the river. The BLM has put small campgrounds along the river. The first few were full already, but I managed to find one not too far off the main road that will take me to Arches NP in the morning. Unfortunately, my campsite is right next to the road, so while the scenery is beyond description, I must endure the road noise from the traffic flying by. Hopefully, it will calm down as night falls, and I will be able to fall asleep to the sound of the river a few feet away.
By the way, while I was in Moab, I visited the library, as well, and uploaded the rest of the photos I've taken thus far -- 50-something. I didn't have time to caption them, but they're mostly of the Grand Canyon. I think you will be able to figure that out. Enjoy.
I'll be spending most, if not all, of the day tomorrow at Arches. If I feel like I've seen all that I wanted to see, then I might make my way toward Capitol Reef NP, but I doubt I would make it all the way there. If I leave Arches, then I will have to find some place to stay between the two parks. Motel maybe? Who knows. Half the fun of this trip is not planning too much too far in advance.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless Phone
I didn't realize yesterday that I had changed time zones and am now in mountain time, so it surprised me this morning when I realized that I had lost an hour. Not to worry, I will gain it back in a day or so when I return to California.
After collecting maps and brochures from the visitor's center, I explored Canyonlands NP. Out here, trails are designed to traverse huge rock structures that defy easy trail marking. Thus, they employ cairns, which are small rocks stacked or piled together every so many feet or yards. I'm not used to this and had a little difficulty this morning finding my way. I climbed two rickety ladders up the sides of two huge rock faces and was treated to a fantastic view of the park and beyond, but then I lost my way and wandered aimlessly looking for those blasted cairns for nearly half an hour. Just as I re-established myself, a couple from Seattle came along, and I hiked the rest of the trail with them for safe measure.
The next trail I attempted was almost entirely across a rock surface, but I had mastered the cairn trail-marking method and had no trouble. It was a spectacular trail with tremendous vistas, either over land or into deep canyons.
By the time I returned from that hike, it was mid-day, and I was anxious to get to Arches NP and the town of Moab, which was just before it. The couple I met on the first trial had just come from Arches and told me that the park campground was full through June, and the nearby state park campground was full, as well. However, they assured me that there were many other options, including ones maintained by the Bureau of Land Management (BLM), although they are primitive sites with vault toilets and no running water. Hmmm. Not my favored accommodations, but better than nothing, I guess.
The drive out of the park was phenomenal. From there, I skirted the La Sal mountains with their snow-capped peaks. I had been seeing them from a distance from the park. Now I was right under them and feeling their enormity.
Moab is a cute, touristy town that caters to the outdoor adventurers. I hit the gas station, the visitor's center, the general store (somewhat like a Big Lots), and the grocery store. By then, the only Thai restaurant in town was open, and I actually sat down at a table in a real restaurant (McDonald's doesn't count) and ate a meal that was prepared and served by others. As I normally do at a Thai restaurant I've not eaten at before, I ordered the Pad Thai, which is hard to screw up. It was fair as Pad Thai goes, but I still managed to eat the whole thing. Yum.
Leaving Moab, I considered getting a motel for the night, but decided I'd wait a few more nights. If I'm forced to camp in a waterless campground for more than a few nights, I will undoubtedly break down and find a real bed and a shower. Just not yet.
Just outside of Moab, I turned north on a small county road and crossed the Colorado River. The road cut through a deep canyon with red rock walls towering up on both sides, while the road skirted the river. The BLM has put small campgrounds along the river. The first few were full already, but I managed to find one not too far off the main road that will take me to Arches NP in the morning. Unfortunately, my campsite is right next to the road, so while the scenery is beyond description, I must endure the road noise from the traffic flying by. Hopefully, it will calm down as night falls, and I will be able to fall asleep to the sound of the river a few feet away.
By the way, while I was in Moab, I visited the library, as well, and uploaded the rest of the photos I've taken thus far -- 50-something. I didn't have time to caption them, but they're mostly of the Grand Canyon. I think you will be able to figure that out. Enjoy.
I'll be spending most, if not all, of the day tomorrow at Arches. If I feel like I've seen all that I wanted to see, then I might make my way toward Capitol Reef NP, but I doubt I would make it all the way there. If I leave Arches, then I will have to find some place to stay between the two parks. Motel maybe? Who knows. Half the fun of this trip is not planning too much too far in advance.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless Phone
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
May 3 -- Canyonlands NP
Wearing everything I own, I survived a night of 24-degree temps. It actually wasn't that bad, until I had to get out and get moving in the morning. Oh, and that nature call at 3 am was not very fun. But at 6 am I knew that hot coffee was waiting for me at McDonald's just down the road. Like I've said before, I'm quite married to some of the modern conveniences and luxuries of life.
Having seen all I wanted to see of the Grand Canyon (or so I thought), I was headed out of the park this morning on my way to Utah. But I longed to launder my clothes, since they hadn't been washed since I left San Diego. So I stopped at the laundromat inside the park and washed my only set of clothes. No one seemed to care that I was hanging out inside in nothing but my rain gear.
Fresh as a spring flower, I then hopped the bus to the park headquarters, where I heard they had public-use computers for free. There was one at the laundromat, but it was $2 for 8 minutes. I needed to upload some photos, so that would get expensive quickly. The "library" at HQ was tiny, but the librarian was a doll. We chatted about the parks in Utah while I uploaded a few photos. What I uploaded, however, was a small fraction of what I actually captured. I could upload only five at a time, and it took nearly ten minutes to do each set of five. I had places to go (like Utah) and things to do, so I uploaded only a few. I hope you like them. I will try to do more from Moab when I get there.
From the "library" computer, I also booked a flight home. I will be ending this grand adventure on May 17, two weeks from today. I think/hope that will give me enough time to do what I want to do. If not, then I will just have to come back out here sometime and pick up where I left off. While I'm having a FABULOUS time, it's wearing to live out of a car and sleep on the ground in the cold, even in some of the most beautiful parks in the world.
Following my time at the "library," I hit the road, but couldn't quite pull myself away from the Grand Canyon. The road out of the park kept skirting the rim of the canyon, with overlooks every few miles. I couldn't quite resist them all, particularly since the weather today was warmer, and there was not a cloud in the sky, which meant that the views of the canyon were more vast and more colorful with the sun's rays fully upon it. You'll see what I mean when I get the day's photos uploaded.
So I didn't actually leave the park until after 11 am, which meant that I would have to hustle to make it to Canyonlands by dark. It was all back roads driving today, and I must say it was some of the most beautiful countryside I have ever seen. I have been through so many different landscapes today, I can't begin to describe them all. There was the desert wasteland through the Indian reservations, then the red clay spires that rose from the desert floor without any seemingly geological justification. They were just there.
I ascended and descended many times during the day, although I remained several thousand feet up. There was snow on the tops of the highest canyons, which is strange to see in a desert environment. Then I would find myself in a totally different ecosystem with trees -- real trees -- not just shrubs or stunted attempts at trees. I rolled through farmland and cattle land. There were mules and horses and goats roaming freely by the side of the road. The rock formations were awe-inspiring, the colors vibrant and multi-faceted, depending on the angle of the sun's light. To this Florida girl, it seemed as if I was traveling on another world, or in another time. It is that different from the terrain I have always known.
As I got closer to Canyonlands, I entered a mountainous region, with snow-capped peaks at ten and eleven thousand feet. It was getting late in the day, and I was concerned that there wouldn't be any vacancies at the small campground in the park, but I hadn't really formulated a plan B, so I pressed on. The last 22 miles into the park was, without a doubt, the most beautiful of my already incredible day. I was in a hurry to reach the end, so I will have to take time tomorrow to take photos.
Of course, when I reached the park at 6:30 pm, it was closed, and the campground was full, but there was a private campground just outside the entrance that was also closed, but had vacancies. I'm camping on the honor system, so I will have to pay on my way out. I'm nestled up against a canyon wall. It's dark now, and the sky is slowly filling with stars. Since there is no artificial light for tens of miles, the stars are bright and plentiful. With no chance of rain tonight, I did not pitch my fly on my tent, so I will be able to star gaze through the mesh in the roof while I cuddle in my sleeping bag. Which sounds like a good idea right now.
Tomorrow, I will explore the park. I may head to Arches, or I may not. Depends on how I feel.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless Phone
Having seen all I wanted to see of the Grand Canyon (or so I thought), I was headed out of the park this morning on my way to Utah. But I longed to launder my clothes, since they hadn't been washed since I left San Diego. So I stopped at the laundromat inside the park and washed my only set of clothes. No one seemed to care that I was hanging out inside in nothing but my rain gear.
Fresh as a spring flower, I then hopped the bus to the park headquarters, where I heard they had public-use computers for free. There was one at the laundromat, but it was $2 for 8 minutes. I needed to upload some photos, so that would get expensive quickly. The "library" at HQ was tiny, but the librarian was a doll. We chatted about the parks in Utah while I uploaded a few photos. What I uploaded, however, was a small fraction of what I actually captured. I could upload only five at a time, and it took nearly ten minutes to do each set of five. I had places to go (like Utah) and things to do, so I uploaded only a few. I hope you like them. I will try to do more from Moab when I get there.
From the "library" computer, I also booked a flight home. I will be ending this grand adventure on May 17, two weeks from today. I think/hope that will give me enough time to do what I want to do. If not, then I will just have to come back out here sometime and pick up where I left off. While I'm having a FABULOUS time, it's wearing to live out of a car and sleep on the ground in the cold, even in some of the most beautiful parks in the world.
Following my time at the "library," I hit the road, but couldn't quite pull myself away from the Grand Canyon. The road out of the park kept skirting the rim of the canyon, with overlooks every few miles. I couldn't quite resist them all, particularly since the weather today was warmer, and there was not a cloud in the sky, which meant that the views of the canyon were more vast and more colorful with the sun's rays fully upon it. You'll see what I mean when I get the day's photos uploaded.
So I didn't actually leave the park until after 11 am, which meant that I would have to hustle to make it to Canyonlands by dark. It was all back roads driving today, and I must say it was some of the most beautiful countryside I have ever seen. I have been through so many different landscapes today, I can't begin to describe them all. There was the desert wasteland through the Indian reservations, then the red clay spires that rose from the desert floor without any seemingly geological justification. They were just there.
I ascended and descended many times during the day, although I remained several thousand feet up. There was snow on the tops of the highest canyons, which is strange to see in a desert environment. Then I would find myself in a totally different ecosystem with trees -- real trees -- not just shrubs or stunted attempts at trees. I rolled through farmland and cattle land. There were mules and horses and goats roaming freely by the side of the road. The rock formations were awe-inspiring, the colors vibrant and multi-faceted, depending on the angle of the sun's light. To this Florida girl, it seemed as if I was traveling on another world, or in another time. It is that different from the terrain I have always known.
As I got closer to Canyonlands, I entered a mountainous region, with snow-capped peaks at ten and eleven thousand feet. It was getting late in the day, and I was concerned that there wouldn't be any vacancies at the small campground in the park, but I hadn't really formulated a plan B, so I pressed on. The last 22 miles into the park was, without a doubt, the most beautiful of my already incredible day. I was in a hurry to reach the end, so I will have to take time tomorrow to take photos.
Of course, when I reached the park at 6:30 pm, it was closed, and the campground was full, but there was a private campground just outside the entrance that was also closed, but had vacancies. I'm camping on the honor system, so I will have to pay on my way out. I'm nestled up against a canyon wall. It's dark now, and the sky is slowly filling with stars. Since there is no artificial light for tens of miles, the stars are bright and plentiful. With no chance of rain tonight, I did not pitch my fly on my tent, so I will be able to star gaze through the mesh in the roof while I cuddle in my sleeping bag. Which sounds like a good idea right now.
Tomorrow, I will explore the park. I may head to Arches, or I may not. Depends on how I feel.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless Phone
Sunday, May 2, 2010
May 2 -- The canyon is grand
Sometime during the night, I was awakened by this shrill, screeching cry. Not like a coyote howl. Not like a bird call, either. There was more than one creature making the sounds, and they were close to where I lay sleeping, cocooned in my bag. The sounds persisted for several minutes, and then the total silence that is the forest returned. I lay there for awhile, wondering what was going on outside the thin mesh of my dwelling, but I decided not to contemplate it too long, lest I might never sleep again, and I need my beauty rest. I suspect it was elk communicating, but it was an ungodly sound in the middle of the night. I hope it doesn't happen again tonight. My vehicle is not comfortable to sleep in.
Wearing thermal underwear, a shirt, a down jacket, a hat, gloves, and three pairs of socks, I managed to sleep fairly well, despite the disturbance. However, since I went to bed at dark thirty (7:30 pm here), I awoke at 5:30 am, and started packing up my stuff. It was cold -- about 35 degrees -- but not what had been predicted. The sky, however, was dark with the threat of rain, or snow, so I made quick work of breaking camp. Fortunately, there was a McDonald's a few miles up the road, and it was open at 6:00 am, so I had a big breakfast and lots of coffee to begin my day. As soon as I pulled into the parking lot, it started snowing. It was dry and light and fluffy snow, and didn't stick to the ground, but the wind was blowing it around, so it looked more ominous than it was.
After breakfast, I set off for the canyon. There was virtually no one there. Of course, it was Sunday, and the visitor's centers and concessionaires didn't open until 8:00, so I almost had the park to myself. I parked at one of the overlooks and walked several miles down a trail that skirts the rim of the canyon. It was breathtaking. I now understand why people come from all over the world to see this place. It is truly amazing. I don't think there are adjectives adequate to describe its beauty and grandeur. So I won't try. Suffice it to say, I walked in wonderment, while it snowed all around me.
To decrease the amount of automobile traffic in the park, there are free shuttle buses that run on natural gas that will take you all over the park, to all of the vistas and visitor's centers, and eating establishments. They are run with military precision, and are very convenient. Thus, I rode the buses to certain places, then walked several miles up and down the rim trail until I got too cold.
Around noon, I drove a few miles into town and had lunch. I also saw a movie at the IMAX on -- what else? -- the Grand Canyon. I had seen it before, several years ago, but it was still enjoyable. Anything shown on that big of a screen is entertaining to me.
After the show, I drove back to the canyon and visited places I hadn't seen during my morning session. There is so much to see and do. No two vistas are the same. Moreover, the weather was constantly changing, which cast different light on the canyon. It snowed off and on all day, but there were also periods of bright sunshine, so each view was different and interesting and beautiful. I shot a ton of photos and video. I can't wait to upload it. Unfortunately, I know that it cannot and will not do it justice. This place is too grand to be captured adequately by a camera.
When I had seen all that I wanted to see, I located a shower facility within the park. I took a wonderfully glorious hot shower (my first in a couple days). Someone in a stall next to me was singing "I'm in heaven." I agreed, and would have sung along, but I can't sing, so I chose not to ruin their experience.
I'm now having dinner in the same place I had breakfast (McDonald's), which is not my favorite place, but it's dark now, and I have yet to make camp, so I needed something quick. I'm using this time, as well, to post this blog from the comfort of a heated establishment. It's really, really supposed to be 25 tonight and is already in the mid-30's. It never got above 45 today to begin with. I will soon drive to the campground, throw my tent on the ground, and dive into my sleeping bag.
Tomorrow, I'm off to Arches National Park in Utah. At least, that's my plan, but my plans are fluid and subject to change, as you know. So . . . stay tuned.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless Phone
Wearing thermal underwear, a shirt, a down jacket, a hat, gloves, and three pairs of socks, I managed to sleep fairly well, despite the disturbance. However, since I went to bed at dark thirty (7:30 pm here), I awoke at 5:30 am, and started packing up my stuff. It was cold -- about 35 degrees -- but not what had been predicted. The sky, however, was dark with the threat of rain, or snow, so I made quick work of breaking camp. Fortunately, there was a McDonald's a few miles up the road, and it was open at 6:00 am, so I had a big breakfast and lots of coffee to begin my day. As soon as I pulled into the parking lot, it started snowing. It was dry and light and fluffy snow, and didn't stick to the ground, but the wind was blowing it around, so it looked more ominous than it was.
After breakfast, I set off for the canyon. There was virtually no one there. Of course, it was Sunday, and the visitor's centers and concessionaires didn't open until 8:00, so I almost had the park to myself. I parked at one of the overlooks and walked several miles down a trail that skirts the rim of the canyon. It was breathtaking. I now understand why people come from all over the world to see this place. It is truly amazing. I don't think there are adjectives adequate to describe its beauty and grandeur. So I won't try. Suffice it to say, I walked in wonderment, while it snowed all around me.
To decrease the amount of automobile traffic in the park, there are free shuttle buses that run on natural gas that will take you all over the park, to all of the vistas and visitor's centers, and eating establishments. They are run with military precision, and are very convenient. Thus, I rode the buses to certain places, then walked several miles up and down the rim trail until I got too cold.
Around noon, I drove a few miles into town and had lunch. I also saw a movie at the IMAX on -- what else? -- the Grand Canyon. I had seen it before, several years ago, but it was still enjoyable. Anything shown on that big of a screen is entertaining to me.
After the show, I drove back to the canyon and visited places I hadn't seen during my morning session. There is so much to see and do. No two vistas are the same. Moreover, the weather was constantly changing, which cast different light on the canyon. It snowed off and on all day, but there were also periods of bright sunshine, so each view was different and interesting and beautiful. I shot a ton of photos and video. I can't wait to upload it. Unfortunately, I know that it cannot and will not do it justice. This place is too grand to be captured adequately by a camera.
When I had seen all that I wanted to see, I located a shower facility within the park. I took a wonderfully glorious hot shower (my first in a couple days). Someone in a stall next to me was singing "I'm in heaven." I agreed, and would have sung along, but I can't sing, so I chose not to ruin their experience.
I'm now having dinner in the same place I had breakfast (McDonald's), which is not my favorite place, but it's dark now, and I have yet to make camp, so I needed something quick. I'm using this time, as well, to post this blog from the comfort of a heated establishment. It's really, really supposed to be 25 tonight and is already in the mid-30's. It never got above 45 today to begin with. I will soon drive to the campground, throw my tent on the ground, and dive into my sleeping bag.
Tomorrow, I'm off to Arches National Park in Utah. At least, that's my plan, but my plans are fluid and subject to change, as you know. So . . . stay tuned.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless Phone
Saturday, May 1, 2010
May 1 -- The Grand Canyon
After breakfast, I hiked a lovely 3-mile trail along Lake Havasu to a camping area that is accessible only by boat or foot. It was early in the morning and very few boats were on the lake, so it was still peaceful and quiet. A man hiking back along the trail warned me that there was a nest of Africanized honey bees around the bend. "They're the deadliest thing in the desert," he remarked. "More deadly than the rattlesnakes or scorpions or tarantulas?" I asked. "Oh, yes," he said. "If you get stung out here, you won't make it." Nice, I thought. Nothing like a stress-free hike among nature.
I found the hive he had mentioned. There were bees buzzing around, but none bothered me. And I made sure I did nothing to bother them. Unfortunately, they (or their cousins) were everywhere. I heard bees buzzing during my entire hike. I made a point not to stop and linger anywhere until I got to the campsite, which was my destination.
Conveniently, there was a picnic table at this walk-in campsite, so I sat there alone quite awhile and enjoyed the solitude and scenery. It was truly picturesque. It made me think of that Nature Valley granola bar commercial where they film a girl hiking or bicycling through some scenic paradise and proclaim, "This is Jane Doe's nature valley," as she rips into and munches down on a granola bar. If only I had brought one, I would have done the same, but alas I had not. Oh, well.
Following the hike, I drove into Lake Havasu City and found the library. It was awesome. Very new and nice. I like libraries. I went to one in Borrego Springs and bought three audiobooks for $1 each, so I've been listening to some murder mysteries while I drive. They didn't have any for sale at Lake Havasu City, but that's okay. I'm not even half-way through the ones I have. I did manage to upload all of the photos I've taken so far. I hope you enjoy them. It took me awhile to upload and caption them. I'm taking video with my camera, too, but haven't yet figured out how to upload that and post it on my blog. I know that I can, I just haven't taken the time to figure it out. Maybe someone can investigate that and let me know? I think I can upload to YouTube and then install a "gadget" on the blog to link to the video, but I'm not sure.
Anyway, I hit the road about 11 am and drove through the desert wasteland of Arizona. Wow was it desolate. The road was bad, and the traffic was worse. I finally made it to Williams, AZ, which is about 50 miles south of the south entrance to the Grand Canyon. I stopped for lunch (even though it was after 2 pm), then went by the visitor's center and got some materials.
I'm now staying in a Kaibab National Forest camground about 5 miles south of the entrance. I'm about 6,500 feet up, so it's cold and windy. It's supposed to be in the upper 20's tonight, with a high in the 50's tomorrow. There's a 30% chance of snow. They had snow two days ago, but it has all melted.
This is the opening day for this campground, so there's only about 5 people camped here. There's no one within sight of me. The camp host told me that Elk roam through occasionally, so I'm hoping I see one (or two). It's starting to get really cold. My hands are freezing typing this, so I'm about to sign off.
Tomorrow, I'm headed to see the canyon. There's so much to see and do. I'm thinking I might stay several days here. We'll see.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless Phone
I found the hive he had mentioned. There were bees buzzing around, but none bothered me. And I made sure I did nothing to bother them. Unfortunately, they (or their cousins) were everywhere. I heard bees buzzing during my entire hike. I made a point not to stop and linger anywhere until I got to the campsite, which was my destination.
Conveniently, there was a picnic table at this walk-in campsite, so I sat there alone quite awhile and enjoyed the solitude and scenery. It was truly picturesque. It made me think of that Nature Valley granola bar commercial where they film a girl hiking or bicycling through some scenic paradise and proclaim, "This is Jane Doe's nature valley," as she rips into and munches down on a granola bar. If only I had brought one, I would have done the same, but alas I had not. Oh, well.
Following the hike, I drove into Lake Havasu City and found the library. It was awesome. Very new and nice. I like libraries. I went to one in Borrego Springs and bought three audiobooks for $1 each, so I've been listening to some murder mysteries while I drive. They didn't have any for sale at Lake Havasu City, but that's okay. I'm not even half-way through the ones I have. I did manage to upload all of the photos I've taken so far. I hope you enjoy them. It took me awhile to upload and caption them. I'm taking video with my camera, too, but haven't yet figured out how to upload that and post it on my blog. I know that I can, I just haven't taken the time to figure it out. Maybe someone can investigate that and let me know? I think I can upload to YouTube and then install a "gadget" on the blog to link to the video, but I'm not sure.
Anyway, I hit the road about 11 am and drove through the desert wasteland of Arizona. Wow was it desolate. The road was bad, and the traffic was worse. I finally made it to Williams, AZ, which is about 50 miles south of the south entrance to the Grand Canyon. I stopped for lunch (even though it was after 2 pm), then went by the visitor's center and got some materials.
I'm now staying in a Kaibab National Forest camground about 5 miles south of the entrance. I'm about 6,500 feet up, so it's cold and windy. It's supposed to be in the upper 20's tonight, with a high in the 50's tomorrow. There's a 30% chance of snow. They had snow two days ago, but it has all melted.
This is the opening day for this campground, so there's only about 5 people camped here. There's no one within sight of me. The camp host told me that Elk roam through occasionally, so I'm hoping I see one (or two). It's starting to get really cold. My hands are freezing typing this, so I'm about to sign off.
Tomorrow, I'm headed to see the canyon. There's so much to see and do. I'm thinking I might stay several days here. We'll see.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless Phone
Friday, April 30, 2010
April 30 -- Lake Havasu - updated
It was sooooo cold last night. It was snowing lightly when I went to bed. I slept in thermal underwear AND a down jacket, and I was still cold. Needless to say, I didn't sleep that well.
Hot coffee was a necessity when I awoke. I met Terrapin Flyer; her husband, Granite; Trouble; and her husband, The Dude, at Higher Grounds, a local coffee shop in Idyllwild. Once warmed and fortified with caffeine, we drove the twisty-turny road down the mountain to where the PCT crossed the highway. I let them out, snapped a few photos, wished them well, then drove away, effectively ending my trail angel ways. I was headed east toward the Grand Canyon.
Highway 74 led me through the San Jacinto mountains out to the Coachella Valley and into the city of Indian Wells, CA. To call this place posh would be an understatement. When I lived in West Palm Beach, I sometimes wandered onto the island of Palm Beach, an enclave of the super rich. It was always well-manicured and highly refined. Indian Wells makes it look like a dump in comparison. Everything in this place is lush and green. And it's in the middle of a desert!
From there, I drove east on I-10 between the Cottonwood Mountains to the north and the Orocopia Mountains to the south. Once past Joshua Tree National Park, I was in the Mojave Desert. Signs on the interstate warned of overheating. Semi trucks labored up the hills. In the distance, I watched dust storms blow across the desert floor. Tumbleweeds blew across the road. Dirt devils, like small tornados, popped up, swirled around, then disappeared. This is desolate country. Then a green sign announced an exit to the "State Prison," which apparently had no name. A yellow sign under it warned, "Do not pick up hitchhikers" -- as if I would consider it to begin with.
Around noon, I crossed into Arizona. Rather than fly to my destination via interstate highway, I decided to take a detour up to Lake Havasu, which was formed by damming the Colorado River. The lake is long and narrow, running north to south and forms the border between Arizona and California. There are several state parks along its banks. I ultimately landed at Cattail Cove State Park, which is just south of Lake Havasu City. The city is another posh little vacation spot for the wealthy. According to some people I met, the bridge across the lake was brought from England piece by piece and re-assembled. Thus, it was dubbed the London Bridge. No kidding. There is a lavish resort right next to it.
The park I'm in is very nice. Arizona, I understand, is experiencing severe economic depression, and thus many of its state parks have been closed. This one, however, appears to be brand new and is rather upscale as state parks go. It's clean, at least, and the guests are being very quiet, although the campground host is showing a movie at the amphitheatre, which is loud at the moment, but will soon be over.
On my way up here, I stopped in the tiny town of Parker, AZ, because the brakes on my rental car were screaming when I slowed or stopped. I didn't want to be stranded in the desert on a weekend needing car repair. A Ford dealership service person initially told me I might need a brake job, but later discovered that the brakes were just very, very dirty, so he cleaned them (for free), and I was on my way. Nice.
Tomorrow, I am off to the Grand Canyon. No more detours. I should be there mid-day. I can't wait. The locals here tell me that it will be quite cold there. I have been experiencing some weather extremes. It was 75 all day and probably won't dip below 60 tonight. Perfect. We'll see what tomorrow will bring. I'd personally rather be hot than cold, but that's just me.
I'll try to upload photos when I can. It's a rather difficult and time-consuming process. I'll need to do laundry soon. My one outfit is in need of washing, so maybe while I'm waiting for my clothes, I can use the library. Stay tuned.
P.S. Is anybody out there?
Sent from my Verizon Wireless Phone
Hot coffee was a necessity when I awoke. I met Terrapin Flyer; her husband, Granite; Trouble; and her husband, The Dude, at Higher Grounds, a local coffee shop in Idyllwild. Once warmed and fortified with caffeine, we drove the twisty-turny road down the mountain to where the PCT crossed the highway. I let them out, snapped a few photos, wished them well, then drove away, effectively ending my trail angel ways. I was headed east toward the Grand Canyon.
Highway 74 led me through the San Jacinto mountains out to the Coachella Valley and into the city of Indian Wells, CA. To call this place posh would be an understatement. When I lived in West Palm Beach, I sometimes wandered onto the island of Palm Beach, an enclave of the super rich. It was always well-manicured and highly refined. Indian Wells makes it look like a dump in comparison. Everything in this place is lush and green. And it's in the middle of a desert!
From there, I drove east on I-10 between the Cottonwood Mountains to the north and the Orocopia Mountains to the south. Once past Joshua Tree National Park, I was in the Mojave Desert. Signs on the interstate warned of overheating. Semi trucks labored up the hills. In the distance, I watched dust storms blow across the desert floor. Tumbleweeds blew across the road. Dirt devils, like small tornados, popped up, swirled around, then disappeared. This is desolate country. Then a green sign announced an exit to the "State Prison," which apparently had no name. A yellow sign under it warned, "Do not pick up hitchhikers" -- as if I would consider it to begin with.
Around noon, I crossed into Arizona. Rather than fly to my destination via interstate highway, I decided to take a detour up to Lake Havasu, which was formed by damming the Colorado River. The lake is long and narrow, running north to south and forms the border between Arizona and California. There are several state parks along its banks. I ultimately landed at Cattail Cove State Park, which is just south of Lake Havasu City. The city is another posh little vacation spot for the wealthy. According to some people I met, the bridge across the lake was brought from England piece by piece and re-assembled. Thus, it was dubbed the London Bridge. No kidding. There is a lavish resort right next to it.
The park I'm in is very nice. Arizona, I understand, is experiencing severe economic depression, and thus many of its state parks have been closed. This one, however, appears to be brand new and is rather upscale as state parks go. It's clean, at least, and the guests are being very quiet, although the campground host is showing a movie at the amphitheatre, which is loud at the moment, but will soon be over.
On my way up here, I stopped in the tiny town of Parker, AZ, because the brakes on my rental car were screaming when I slowed or stopped. I didn't want to be stranded in the desert on a weekend needing car repair. A Ford dealership service person initially told me I might need a brake job, but later discovered that the brakes were just very, very dirty, so he cleaned them (for free), and I was on my way. Nice.
Tomorrow, I am off to the Grand Canyon. No more detours. I should be there mid-day. I can't wait. The locals here tell me that it will be quite cold there. I have been experiencing some weather extremes. It was 75 all day and probably won't dip below 60 tonight. Perfect. We'll see what tomorrow will bring. I'd personally rather be hot than cold, but that's just me.
I'll try to upload photos when I can. It's a rather difficult and time-consuming process. I'll need to do laundry soon. My one outfit is in need of washing, so maybe while I'm waiting for my clothes, I can use the library. Stay tuned.
P.S. Is anybody out there?
Sent from my Verizon Wireless Phone
April 29 -- Idyllwild, CA
It's amazing how a 10-mile hike up and down mountains will make you sleep. I awoke with the dawn and headed north through Joshua Tree, stopping at several places along the way to take short hikes and lots of photos. I tried to upload some of them, but I am at a coffee-shop in town with a 30-minute limit and DSL, so I wasn't able to upload many without technical difficulty.
On my way through the park, a coyote strolled across the road in front of me. That was cool.
From the north end of the park, I headed west again on my way to Idyllwild, where I have been trying to get to pick up some supplies I mailed myself from San Diego. On I-10, I passed a huge wind farm (and they were spinning wildly, as it was exceedingly windy). They were lined in rows, these giant wind mills all over the landscape, generating electricity for the locals. The motors were probably made at Westinghouse in Pensacola, as that is one of the things produced there.
From the interstate, I took a small road south that climbed high up into the mountains. The hair-pin turns were rather scary, and I had to keep telling myself not to look down, although the views I glimpsed were amazing. Around 6000 feet, there was still a little snow on the ground. Not much, but to a girl from Florida, any is interesting. Idyllwild is a cute town, nestled in the mountainside that caters to the hikers every season. Several storefronts had welcome signs just for PCT hikers. Many businesses give substantial discounts to them and go out of their way to be hospitable. I know the hikers are grateful and happy to be out of the elements, if only for a little while.
While collecting my box from the post office, I met Terrapin and offered her and some of her crew a ride to the trail head in the morning. From there, I then drove to the trail head to offer a ride into town (it's a 15-mile hitch) to whomever might want one, but no one showed up in the hour that I sat there. Oh, well.
It was nearly dusk by the time I got back to Idyllwild, and it was sprinkling and very cold (low 50's at least). I found a spot at the state park campground and set up shop. I had a wonderfully hot shower, though it got chilly once the water turned off. Still, I like being clean and fresh.
After making some hot chocolate with my alcohol stove, I wandered over to the hiker/biker camp and talked to No Teeth and another guy whose name I didn't catch. They are PCT hikers. I asked them about the peeps I started with, but they had not heard of them. I had read the hiker register at the post office and didn't recognize any of the people who had signed it, so my peeps must not be here yet. Oh, well. I hope they are doing well.
As I was talking to the two guys, it started snowing ever so lightly. Just tiny little flakes drifting down. It was getting progressively colder, so I retired to my sleeping bag and went to sleep. Tomorrow I will take the hikers I met to the trail head and then be on my way to the Grand Canyon. Arizona, here I come!
On my way through the park, a coyote strolled across the road in front of me. That was cool.
From the north end of the park, I headed west again on my way to Idyllwild, where I have been trying to get to pick up some supplies I mailed myself from San Diego. On I-10, I passed a huge wind farm (and they were spinning wildly, as it was exceedingly windy). They were lined in rows, these giant wind mills all over the landscape, generating electricity for the locals. The motors were probably made at Westinghouse in Pensacola, as that is one of the things produced there.
From the interstate, I took a small road south that climbed high up into the mountains. The hair-pin turns were rather scary, and I had to keep telling myself not to look down, although the views I glimpsed were amazing. Around 6000 feet, there was still a little snow on the ground. Not much, but to a girl from Florida, any is interesting. Idyllwild is a cute town, nestled in the mountainside that caters to the hikers every season. Several storefronts had welcome signs just for PCT hikers. Many businesses give substantial discounts to them and go out of their way to be hospitable. I know the hikers are grateful and happy to be out of the elements, if only for a little while.
While collecting my box from the post office, I met Terrapin and offered her and some of her crew a ride to the trail head in the morning. From there, I then drove to the trail head to offer a ride into town (it's a 15-mile hitch) to whomever might want one, but no one showed up in the hour that I sat there. Oh, well.
It was nearly dusk by the time I got back to Idyllwild, and it was sprinkling and very cold (low 50's at least). I found a spot at the state park campground and set up shop. I had a wonderfully hot shower, though it got chilly once the water turned off. Still, I like being clean and fresh.
After making some hot chocolate with my alcohol stove, I wandered over to the hiker/biker camp and talked to No Teeth and another guy whose name I didn't catch. They are PCT hikers. I asked them about the peeps I started with, but they had not heard of them. I had read the hiker register at the post office and didn't recognize any of the people who had signed it, so my peeps must not be here yet. Oh, well. I hope they are doing well.
As I was talking to the two guys, it started snowing ever so lightly. Just tiny little flakes drifting down. It was getting progressively colder, so I retired to my sleeping bag and went to sleep. Tomorrow I will take the hikers I met to the trail head and then be on my way to the Grand Canyon. Arizona, here I come!
Thursday, April 29, 2010
April 28 -- Joshua Tree National Park
The wind howled all night last night, keeping me awake. Sometime early in the morning it subsided for awhile, and I was able to get a little sleep. I was up by 6 am and out of the campground by 6:30. Fortunately, there was a restaurant open in Borrego Springs, so I was able to get coffee and a bagel before I hit the road.
I drove east to the Salton Sea, then headed north. At the northern tip of the Sea, I took a small county road through farm land full of corn, potatoes, citrus, and grapes. The road then wound its way through a beautiful canyon, and I emerged just south of the southern entrance to Josua Tree National Park. As was the case just west of Borrego Springs, the hills were alive with the color of spring blooms in the desert. So many different types of vegetation were blooming. It is very pretty.
I arrived at the campground at 9:30 am and quickly set off on a 10-mile round-trip trail that ran from the campground to a palm oasis, like the one I hiked at Anza-Borrego. It was absolutely gorgeous. I can't wait to post the pics from the trail. The weather here is much cooler than Anza, so it was a pleasant hike. The sun is setting now, and it's getting quite chilly. I think the ranger said it will be in the mid- to upper 40's tonight. Quite the change from last night.
I guess since I didn't get much sleep last night, I'm totally wasted. I can't wait to crawl into my sleeping bag and rest, especially since I'm cold now. Wind is not an issue, at least not right now, so I hope I will be able to sleep.
Tomorrow, I'm going to see more sights in Joshue Tree, then head back west to Idyllwild. There are only two campgrounds that have water in this park. I'm at one now, though there are no showers. Bummer. The campgrounds I would need to stay in tomorrow night would not have any water, and I'm just not in the mood for that, so I will head to Idyllwild. From there, I'm not sure. I'll have to decide tomorrow where I'm headed next. Stay tuned.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless Phone
I drove east to the Salton Sea, then headed north. At the northern tip of the Sea, I took a small county road through farm land full of corn, potatoes, citrus, and grapes. The road then wound its way through a beautiful canyon, and I emerged just south of the southern entrance to Josua Tree National Park. As was the case just west of Borrego Springs, the hills were alive with the color of spring blooms in the desert. So many different types of vegetation were blooming. It is very pretty.
I arrived at the campground at 9:30 am and quickly set off on a 10-mile round-trip trail that ran from the campground to a palm oasis, like the one I hiked at Anza-Borrego. It was absolutely gorgeous. I can't wait to post the pics from the trail. The weather here is much cooler than Anza, so it was a pleasant hike. The sun is setting now, and it's getting quite chilly. I think the ranger said it will be in the mid- to upper 40's tonight. Quite the change from last night.
I guess since I didn't get much sleep last night, I'm totally wasted. I can't wait to crawl into my sleeping bag and rest, especially since I'm cold now. Wind is not an issue, at least not right now, so I hope I will be able to sleep.
Tomorrow, I'm going to see more sights in Joshue Tree, then head back west to Idyllwild. There are only two campgrounds that have water in this park. I'm at one now, though there are no showers. Bummer. The campgrounds I would need to stay in tomorrow night would not have any water, and I'm just not in the mood for that, so I will head to Idyllwild. From there, I'm not sure. I'll have to decide tomorrow where I'm headed next. Stay tuned.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless Phone
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
April 27 -- Still in Anza-Borrego
Jan, my most wonderful host in San Diego, drove over to hike with me today. She has been section-hiking a trail that runs from the ocean to the Salton Sea and needed to hike a 7-mile section near where I've been staying, so we hiked together today. It was a fabulous hike. The hills were alive with color. And we saw two jack rabbits. They are BIG bunnies!
After our hike, Jan and I stopped at a water cache provided for the PCT hikers. This section of the trail is notoriously devoid of natural water sources, so kind souls bring in boxes and boxes of bottled water. This hiker community is truly exceptional. Jan then took a hiker into Julian, where I went yesterday with two others. I went the opposite direction, back to Anza-Borrego State Park. I had intended to hike a trail at the park yesterday, but got back too late, so I returned to hike that trail. It began at the campground and went a mile and a half into a canyon. At its end was a waterfall and a copse of really large palm trees. It was truly an oasis in the desert. Just lovely. Fortunately, the sky had clouded over for this hike, as it was 100 degrees when I arrived, according to the park ranger at the gate. On the hike, I saw a really pretty blue and green lizard, then near the end I saw my first rattlesnake. It was poised on a rock to the side of the trail and rattled at me when I walked by. It scared the wits out of me.
Since my second hike of the day ended around 5:30 pm, I decided to stay at the campground another night. I made dinner, such as it was, and took a shower, which felt wonderful. I actually had to pay to shower, but it was worth every penny! I'm now ready for bed, hoping the wind will die down soon. The sky has clouded over, and it's supposed to rain, but I hope it doesn't. I guess I can always jump in the car if it gets too bad.
Tomorrow, I'm off to Warner Springs, where some of my hiking peeps should be, and then to Idyllwild to pick up a package I mailed myself for the hike. From there, I may head to Joshua Tree National Park. Stay tuned to see if I actually make it there tomorrow.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless Phone
After our hike, Jan and I stopped at a water cache provided for the PCT hikers. This section of the trail is notoriously devoid of natural water sources, so kind souls bring in boxes and boxes of bottled water. This hiker community is truly exceptional. Jan then took a hiker into Julian, where I went yesterday with two others. I went the opposite direction, back to Anza-Borrego State Park. I had intended to hike a trail at the park yesterday, but got back too late, so I returned to hike that trail. It began at the campground and went a mile and a half into a canyon. At its end was a waterfall and a copse of really large palm trees. It was truly an oasis in the desert. Just lovely. Fortunately, the sky had clouded over for this hike, as it was 100 degrees when I arrived, according to the park ranger at the gate. On the hike, I saw a really pretty blue and green lizard, then near the end I saw my first rattlesnake. It was poised on a rock to the side of the trail and rattled at me when I walked by. It scared the wits out of me.
Since my second hike of the day ended around 5:30 pm, I decided to stay at the campground another night. I made dinner, such as it was, and took a shower, which felt wonderful. I actually had to pay to shower, but it was worth every penny! I'm now ready for bed, hoping the wind will die down soon. The sky has clouded over, and it's supposed to rain, but I hope it doesn't. I guess I can always jump in the car if it gets too bad.
Tomorrow, I'm off to Warner Springs, where some of my hiking peeps should be, and then to Idyllwild to pick up a package I mailed myself for the hike. From there, I may head to Joshua Tree National Park. Stay tuned to see if I actually make it there tomorrow.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless Phone
April 26 -- Anza-Borrego State Park
I typed this post out last night and sent it off, but it's lost out in the desert somewhere and never got posted, so I'll try again.
I left San Diego early in the morning in the fog, heading east toward the mountains. I thought I had lost my way, so I stopped in for coffee and directions, and waited awhile for the fog to lift. When I hit the road again, I was treated to spectacular views of the lush green landscape. I soon dropped down into the valley and buzzed through small towns on my way to the desert. Everything here is so manicured and clean!
Up and over the mountains I went, along twisty-turny roads that I'm not used to traveling in a car. Hair-pin turns around solid rocks with nasty vertical cliffs on the other side. It was fun driving, but sometimes scary. Absolutely everything is in bloom here, so I have been treated to some wonderful scenery. I expected the desert to be brown and dusty and dry. It is, in fact, dusty and dry, but it is alive with color. I am typing this from a library computer in Borrego Springs, so I'm not sure I will be able to upload my photos, but I'll try.
Once I was up and over the mountains, I descended onto the desert floor. Whereas I had left San Diego in the fog at around 65 degrees, it was now 95 degrees at 11:30 am, and there is not a speck of moisture in the air. I began chugging quarts of water to keep hydrated and can hardly keep up.
The Anza-Borrego State Park, where I stayed last night, is on the desert floor and was broiling when I got there, so I went into town -- into air-conditioned stores -- and hung out for awhile. Since it was too hot to go hiking in the middle of the day, I drove 20 miles or so to where the PCT crosses the roadway and befriended two hikers by taking them to Julian about 12 miles away. They were ever so grateful.
Julian is no bigger than a minute, with one main street. On that street, however, is Mom's bakery, notorious for the best pies in the world. The bakery, which is also a restaurant, treated me, Crow Dog, and Swope to a free lunch because we were hikers. Thus, I had a most magnificent chicken pot pie, a root beer, and a slice of apple pie. It was to die for! No kidding!
After lunch, I drove the two guys back to the trail and ran into Elderly Ellen and Yeahbut. I thought that I would never see them again after dropping them off at Mount Laguna, but there they were -- hot and tired and smelly. We chatted for awhile, then I drove back to Borrego Springs to the campground. By the time I got there, the wind was howling. I managed to set up my tent, but when I laid down, the wind was buffeting it so much that I knew I would never get to sleep, so I yanked up the tent (otherwise, it would have blown away without me in it) and stuffed it in the car. I tried to sleep in the front passenger seat, but that was uncomfortable. About 10 pm, the wind subsided, so I set up my tent again and went to sleep. It was still stifling hot.
I left San Diego early in the morning in the fog, heading east toward the mountains. I thought I had lost my way, so I stopped in for coffee and directions, and waited awhile for the fog to lift. When I hit the road again, I was treated to spectacular views of the lush green landscape. I soon dropped down into the valley and buzzed through small towns on my way to the desert. Everything here is so manicured and clean!
Up and over the mountains I went, along twisty-turny roads that I'm not used to traveling in a car. Hair-pin turns around solid rocks with nasty vertical cliffs on the other side. It was fun driving, but sometimes scary. Absolutely everything is in bloom here, so I have been treated to some wonderful scenery. I expected the desert to be brown and dusty and dry. It is, in fact, dusty and dry, but it is alive with color. I am typing this from a library computer in Borrego Springs, so I'm not sure I will be able to upload my photos, but I'll try.
Once I was up and over the mountains, I descended onto the desert floor. Whereas I had left San Diego in the fog at around 65 degrees, it was now 95 degrees at 11:30 am, and there is not a speck of moisture in the air. I began chugging quarts of water to keep hydrated and can hardly keep up.
The Anza-Borrego State Park, where I stayed last night, is on the desert floor and was broiling when I got there, so I went into town -- into air-conditioned stores -- and hung out for awhile. Since it was too hot to go hiking in the middle of the day, I drove 20 miles or so to where the PCT crosses the roadway and befriended two hikers by taking them to Julian about 12 miles away. They were ever so grateful.
Julian is no bigger than a minute, with one main street. On that street, however, is Mom's bakery, notorious for the best pies in the world. The bakery, which is also a restaurant, treated me, Crow Dog, and Swope to a free lunch because we were hikers. Thus, I had a most magnificent chicken pot pie, a root beer, and a slice of apple pie. It was to die for! No kidding!
After lunch, I drove the two guys back to the trail and ran into Elderly Ellen and Yeahbut. I thought that I would never see them again after dropping them off at Mount Laguna, but there they were -- hot and tired and smelly. We chatted for awhile, then I drove back to Borrego Springs to the campground. By the time I got there, the wind was howling. I managed to set up my tent, but when I laid down, the wind was buffeting it so much that I knew I would never get to sleep, so I yanked up the tent (otherwise, it would have blown away without me in it) and stuffed it in the car. I tried to sleep in the front passenger seat, but that was uncomfortable. About 10 pm, the wind subsided, so I set up my tent again and went to sleep. It was still stifling hot.
Sunday, April 25, 2010
April 25 -- An exceptional day
Despite the cold, I slept reasonably well. I didn't particularly want to get out of my sleeping bag, but I told four hikers that I would drive them 20 miles up the road to where they had left the trail to join the kickoff. I had met them at Scout's and Frodo's, and was happy to shuttle them around. However, when I went to start the car, the battery was dead. Oy. Fortunately, there were hundreds of people there, some with cars, so I managed to locate someone with jumper cables and got my car started.
As we left the campground and drove up into the mountains, we began to encounter snow on the ground around 4000 feet. At 5000+ feet, there was a 1-2" coating on the ground. It was strange to see snow in the desert, but there it was. I dropped of Elderly Ellen and her husband, Yeahbut, as well as Pete and Lani, a father/daughter team. Lani had shaved her head at the kickoff and donated her hair. I imagine her head will be cold, even with a hat.
I drove through the mountains for awhile, stopping periodically to take photos, then re-connected with the interstate and headed back to Jan's house in San Diego. Jan had invited me to an all-girls luncheon. Included at the luncheon were Frodo; June Mulford, the woman who gave the slide-show presentation about her horseback ride along the trail; one of Frodo's and Jan's neighbors, who also hosts hikers; a past thru-hiker who is now a Yale master's student and who will be thru-hiking the Continental Divide Trail this summer; and a woman who thru-hiked the PCT last year, whose journal I read religiously last year. It was a truly wonderful experience talking with these women. I enjoyed it immensely.
After lunch, I exchanged my car for another (hopefully with a better battery), so I can set out tomorrow on my National Park journey. I might be out of touch for awhile, unless I have better cell service than I think I will. Stay tuned, my friends.
April 24 -- The kickoff party
I slept in for a change -- 6:30 am -- and had breakfast with Jan and her husband, Jim, before they left for the kickoff party at Lake Morena. If I haven't said so previously, Jan has hiked the entire PCT in sections over many years. Jim is a geologist and an accomplished mountaineer and has climbed Denali and McKinley (I think) and other great mountains. He has also done deep-sea exploration. They are both extremely fascinating people.
Around 10:30, I headed to the airport to pick up a couple from Buffalo, NY. They have each attempted the trail once or twice already and met on the trail last year. They are back once again to thru-hike together. After a stop at the Evil Empire and McDonald's (also an EE in my opinion), we arrived at the campground around 1 pm. It was wall-to-wall people --some very colorful. Long-distance hikers are an interesting breed. I walked around and talked to people I had met (and some I hadn't). There was a lot of nervous excitement in the air. There are presentations throughout the day on bears and fires and such things, but I didn't attend any. Instead, I watched the gear contest, which was entertaining. People come up with crazy ideas about how to use common items for multi-purposes. Some are practical; others are absurd. Like I said, long-distance hikers are an interesting breed of people.
After the gear contest, hikers from a previous year hosted dinner. Since I had helped Jan make the brownies, I supervised the dessert table, making sure no one took more than one, since there were about 600 people at this event. Following dinner, Ryan and I had a nice conversation. It was somewhat existential. He wasn't particularly excited about hiking out the next day. Having been on a bicycle for 3 months, he wasn't thrilled to live in the woods for another 5 months. We talked about the concepts of happiness and contentment, and how one attempts to achieve those within themselves. He's hiked the Appalachian Trail, so we talked about what it means to complete such a grand goal. I'm really impressed by his maturity and intellect. I hope he enjoys his hike and has a wonderful life thereafter.
As the sun set, it began to get cold -- really cold. With the lake nearby, it was a moist cold, leaving your clothes damp. At 7:30 pm, many of us gathered at a make-shift theater in a clearing. There was a slide-show presentation by a woman who, along with her husband, was the first to complete the entire trail by horse -- in 1959. Very few even knew the trail existed, so she and her husband shot a 90-minute film, as well, and distributed it to movie theaters around the Pacific Northwest. They even appeared on the Art Linkletter show. For some reason, their accomplishment has been largely ignored by those immersed in the culture of the trail, so Scout is on a campaign to give the couple their historical due.
Following the slide-show presentation, we watched an incredible National Geographic special on the PCT that was shot last year. It featured some of the people at the kick-off. It hasn't been released yet, and should air on public television in August or September. Nat Geo gave the Pacific Crest Trail Association an advance copy, which we saw last night. It was, by all accounts, somewhat over-dramatized, but it was otherwise very well done. The photography was spectacular, as one would expect from National Geographic. I enjoyed watching it, but froze to death while doing so. After it was over, I quickly scrambled into my tent and sleeping bag. Someone said it was in the mid-40s, but it felt colder.
I had a really, really good day. I have met some truly wonderful people, and I am enjoying being a part of this whole thru-hiker experience, even if I'm ultimately not going to hike this year.
Saturday, April 24, 2010
April 23 -- Day 6 -- My trail angel wings
There has to be a special place in heaven for people like Jan, Scout, and Frodo (and other trail angels). I can't begin to tell you how much they do (and how much money they spend!) transitioning hikers to the trail. It's just incredible. And now I'm officially one of them, though merely an apprentice.
At 6 am, I took Ryan and a bloke from England, who was aptly dubbed the Mad Hatter, to the trail. Hatter talked a blue streak, but he was rather interesting. He's been working in the Middle East for many years repairing commercial GPS equipment. He had also lived in the Philippines for awhile and had tales from that adventure, as well. He had spent the last two years traveling the US, looking for a place to settle. He decided to build a home in Oregon, I believe he said. So he's walking home from here. He was rather intense, but it made the 75- minute drive fly by.
We traveled through snow at 4000 feet, and it was cold at the trail head, but it was already turning into a beautiful day. The rain was gone, and the sky was clear. It was absolutely gorgeous. I bid Ryan farewell at the border and was a bit sad. I'm still struggling emotionally with my decision not to hike the trail. There was so much excitement and nervous energy from the herd of hikers leaving. They all seemed so thrilled to be there, and looked forward to the many hardships they would encounter along the way. It will be interesting to follow their journals this summer and see how they fare.
The Mad Hatter wanted to go to Lake Morena campground and start his hike on Sunday morning, so I drove him there and checked in with the kickoff organizers. It's a very large park, but was already filling up with people. Tents of every size, shape, and color dotted the landscape. There would soon be many, many more. I walked around most of the day, running into people I had met at Scout's and Frodo's. All were doing well, but had tales to tell from the last two days of hellish weather. Again, I struggled emotionally for most of the day, feeling disconnected from the hikers, since I was no longer one of them. I'm still sorting out my emotions from all of this and can't say that I've found peace with it yet. Everything is a trade-off. I didn't want to be alone on the trail, but I'm going off alone to drive around the country. In exchange, I get the security of a vehicle and the luxuries of running water and flush toilets at campgrounds or motels. Hopefully, I will meet some friendly, interesting people along the way. I think this is the best decision, but I will struggle with it for awhile.
Around 5 pm, I drove back to San Diego to pick up another hiker at the airport. He had contacted Scout and Frodo at the last minute, and they were not able to help him, because they would be at the kickoff, so I volunteered to shuttle him out to the kickoff. He was a young personal trainer from Dallas, who was in between jobs, which made it a good time to hike from Mexico to Canada. After stops at two stores for provisions, I dropped him off at Lake Morena at dark and drove back to San Diego to stay with Jan (and her husband, Jim). I had left that morning at 5 am and didn't get back until 9 pm. I had been driving for four hours, so I was exhausted, and went straight to bed. Tomorrow should be an interesting and busy day, as well.
April 22 -- Day 5 -- Becoming a trail angel
Since hikers who are staying at Scout's and Frodo's leave for the trail at 6 am sharp, I awoke at 5 am to help with breakfast. When Jan returned from the trail head around 9, she and I and Brittney (a hiker leaving tomorrow) went to Jan's church kitchen and made 24 pans of brownies for the kickoff party. It took us about 3 hours. Sadly, we didn't get to eat any and had to ride around in the car all day with them in the back, torturing us with the smell of rich, warm chocolate. Not fair!
From there, Jan and I dropped Brittney off at the zoo, then headed to AAA to pick up maps I will need for my new great adventure out west. From there, we were headed to Costco when Ryan (with whom I bicycled) called from the train station. He had made plans to stay with a "friend," but couldn't get in touch with the friend and needed a place to stay for the night and a ride out to the trail tomorrow. Since there is NOTHING these people won't do to assist hikers, Jan volunteered to pick him up and give him a spot on her floor for the night. It was good to see Ryan again, since I hadn't seen him since leaving Hempstead, TX. He is such a cool guy!!
Since we were downtown near the airport, we tried to pick up my rental car early, but they wouldn't give it to me. Oy. It was late afternoon, and there was much more to be done, so we raced home to prepare part of dinner, which would be held at Scout's and Frodo's (where else?). We would be feeding 30 people. Ryan and I got the unenviable chore of cutting the brownies, which we were not allowed to sample. Okay, maybe I snuck a crumb, but don't tell Jan.
Just before dinner, Three Gallon and Cucumber Boy offered to take me to get my car on their way to pick up hikers at the airport. On my way back, Scout called: "Can you come to the rescue and pick up a stranded, homeless hiker at the airport?" Apparently, this guy had flown in with no plans. Imagine that. Three Gallon and Cucumber Boy had seen him and talked to him, but didn't have room in their car to take him, so Scout called me. San Diego is an enormous city with a maze of freeways running every which way. "Only if you can tell me how to turn around and get back on the freeway without ending up in Mexico," I replied. And so I spun around on the freeway during rush hour and headed to the airport. The SD airport is probably the easiest, least-confusing airport I've ever navigated. Miami is an absolute nightmare, but this was a breeze. Thank goodness.
I did, however, manage to take a wrong turn and ended up going south on the freeway, instead of north, but I quickly recovered, and we were back on our way. We then scurried back to Scout's and Frodo's, where I sucked down some dinner they had kindly saved for me, then I was off to the airport again to pick up two hikers that I had previously agreed to shuttle. After a run to the store for them to stock up for the weekend, I went back to Scout's and Frodo's and picked up another group and took them to REI, which is a major outdoor gear retailer. After that, I collapsed into my bed. I will be taking a group to the trail in the morning, so I need my beauty rest.
Thursday, April 22, 2010
April 21 - Day 4 - Still in San Diego
I spent the day at Scout's and Frodo's house, helping them with all the myriad of chores needed with a house full of people constantly in motion. It rained most of the day, and I was glad not to be out in it. When Scout came back from dropping off a new group of hikers at the border, he said it was snowing along the interstate out of town at 4000 feet and also at the trail head. Another couple who came to help Scout and Frodo shuttle people around said it was also snowing in Julian, which is about 75 miles north of the trail head. Which means that it's snowing in places that don't normally get snow, particularly this time of year. The rain is supposed to last all night and into tomorrow. There should be more snow, too. Obviously, the temperature has dropped substantially. The kickoff party at the Lake Morena campground should be a chilly affair. Thank God I bought a zero-degree down bag. It's going to keep me toasty.
I've done a lot of soul-searching today. My dream of thru-hiking the PCT died somewhere along the way here or on the trail. I'm trying to figure out why and how. I suspect it's just fear that is blocking my path, but I can't seem to overcome it. I've talked to a lot of people about it, particularly past female hikers like Nitro and Cucumber Boy (yes, that's a girl). They have been very Zen about it all: "If you're not feeling it, then don't do it. It will only be miserable and cause you pain."
So, here's my plan: Tomorrow, I will rent a car in San Diego. I will use it for the next 4 days to shuttle hikers to and from the trail, either from San Diego or from Lake Morena. Undoubtedly, there will be hikers on the trail who want to come off or be shuttled into a nearby town to re-group because of the weather. Thus, I will become a trail angel for the next few days. After that, I'm going to travel around California, Arizona, and Utah. I haven't been out to this side of the continent since my early 20's, and even then didn't spend time looking around. So I'm going to visit all of the national parks, like Joshua Tree, Death Valley, Sequoia, and Yosemite in California; the Grand Canyon in Arizona; and Zion, Bryce, Canyonlands, and Arches in Utah. It should take me three or four weeks. Then I will fly home. After that, who knows. Probably back to work. We shall see.
I hope you all will stay with me and follow along. I'm going to go to some awesome places. I will be hiking and seeing some amazing things. I will post photos when I can.
I've done a lot of soul-searching today. My dream of thru-hiking the PCT died somewhere along the way here or on the trail. I'm trying to figure out why and how. I suspect it's just fear that is blocking my path, but I can't seem to overcome it. I've talked to a lot of people about it, particularly past female hikers like Nitro and Cucumber Boy (yes, that's a girl). They have been very Zen about it all: "If you're not feeling it, then don't do it. It will only be miserable and cause you pain."
So, here's my plan: Tomorrow, I will rent a car in San Diego. I will use it for the next 4 days to shuttle hikers to and from the trail, either from San Diego or from Lake Morena. Undoubtedly, there will be hikers on the trail who want to come off or be shuttled into a nearby town to re-group because of the weather. Thus, I will become a trail angel for the next few days. After that, I'm going to travel around California, Arizona, and Utah. I haven't been out to this side of the continent since my early 20's, and even then didn't spend time looking around. So I'm going to visit all of the national parks, like Joshua Tree, Death Valley, Sequoia, and Yosemite in California; the Grand Canyon in Arizona; and Zion, Bryce, Canyonlands, and Arches in Utah. It should take me three or four weeks. Then I will fly home. After that, who knows. Probably back to work. We shall see.
I hope you all will stay with me and follow along. I'm going to go to some awesome places. I will be hiking and seeing some amazing things. I will post photos when I can.
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
April 20 - Day 3 - Back in San Diego
With a storm coming, I decided to ride back into San Diego with Jan, who had just dropped off another set of hikers at the border. I hung out for the day at Scout's and Frodo's house. A father/daughter duo, who had hiked from the border into Lake Morena, came back with me to ride out the storm, too. The rain began about 4 pm.
I finally sat down with Scout and had a long talk about my trip, my expectations, etc. I cannot say that my time on the trail was "not what I expected." It was exactly what I expected. However, I have become overwhelmed with the prospect of hiking this trail alone. Yes, there are other people on the trail. Yes, they are very friendly. Yes, I can walk with them some and share breaks with them, and even camp in their general vicinity if I want. But ultimately I have to make every decision and perform every task by myself. There will be no one to help me. To say that the logistics of this trip are daunting is an understatement. While finding water on the trail is rather easy right now, it will become exceedingly difficult. There will be 20 to 30 mile stretches of trail without any water source. Rationing water will become necessary throughout the day. It is one of many stressful events associated with this hike.
I knew I would be hiking alone. I even talked about it with several people. I thought it would make life easier, since I wouldn't have to keep pace with anyone else or make compromises, etc. I could hike when I wanted, how far I wanted, and stop whenever and wherever I wanted. Which all sounds good from the comfort and security of one's home, or sitting around a familiar restaurant table with friends. Now that I'm here, it's terrifying. Truly. The degree of isolation is overwhelming. While on the trail, I was out in the middle of absolutely nowhere. While there were dozens of hikers on the same section of trail with me, as time passes, we will all spread out, and there will be fewer and fewer people around. I'm a generally self-confident person, but now that I'm experiencing this, I've become extremely insecure.
So what am I going to do? Don't know yet. I'm really struggling with this. I've lost confidence in myself. I do not believe that I can successfully thru-hike the PCT. I realize I was on the trail only a day and a half, but it was an eye-opening day and a half. It was enough to get the general idea of what the next 2,630 miles would be like. I'm going to hang out in San Diego for a day or two and help Scout and Frodo transition dozens of hikers onto the trail. The PCT kick-off party will be Thursday through Sunday at Lake Morena campground. I will make a decision by this weekend about what I'm going to do. I had started a week early to acclimate, so I have time to hang out and re-group. Meanwhile, I'm having fun at Scout and Frodo's meeting all the hikers -- past and present. I've done so much research and read so many trail journals that I recognize many past hikers by name, so it's nice to put a face to a name. It's been a very interesting experience so far.
Well, enough for now, we're about to have dinner. People are pouring into the house. There should be 17 people here for dinner. Tomorrow will be 25. It's busy, but fun.
I finally sat down with Scout and had a long talk about my trip, my expectations, etc. I cannot say that my time on the trail was "not what I expected." It was exactly what I expected. However, I have become overwhelmed with the prospect of hiking this trail alone. Yes, there are other people on the trail. Yes, they are very friendly. Yes, I can walk with them some and share breaks with them, and even camp in their general vicinity if I want. But ultimately I have to make every decision and perform every task by myself. There will be no one to help me. To say that the logistics of this trip are daunting is an understatement. While finding water on the trail is rather easy right now, it will become exceedingly difficult. There will be 20 to 30 mile stretches of trail without any water source. Rationing water will become necessary throughout the day. It is one of many stressful events associated with this hike.
I knew I would be hiking alone. I even talked about it with several people. I thought it would make life easier, since I wouldn't have to keep pace with anyone else or make compromises, etc. I could hike when I wanted, how far I wanted, and stop whenever and wherever I wanted. Which all sounds good from the comfort and security of one's home, or sitting around a familiar restaurant table with friends. Now that I'm here, it's terrifying. Truly. The degree of isolation is overwhelming. While on the trail, I was out in the middle of absolutely nowhere. While there were dozens of hikers on the same section of trail with me, as time passes, we will all spread out, and there will be fewer and fewer people around. I'm a generally self-confident person, but now that I'm experiencing this, I've become extremely insecure.
So what am I going to do? Don't know yet. I'm really struggling with this. I've lost confidence in myself. I do not believe that I can successfully thru-hike the PCT. I realize I was on the trail only a day and a half, but it was an eye-opening day and a half. It was enough to get the general idea of what the next 2,630 miles would be like. I'm going to hang out in San Diego for a day or two and help Scout and Frodo transition dozens of hikers onto the trail. The PCT kick-off party will be Thursday through Sunday at Lake Morena campground. I will make a decision by this weekend about what I'm going to do. I had started a week early to acclimate, so I have time to hang out and re-group. Meanwhile, I'm having fun at Scout and Frodo's meeting all the hikers -- past and present. I've done so much research and read so many trail journals that I recognize many past hikers by name, so it's nice to put a face to a name. It's been a very interesting experience so far.
Well, enough for now, we're about to have dinner. People are pouring into the house. There should be 17 people here for dinner. Tomorrow will be 25. It's busy, but fun.
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
April 19 -- Day 2 -- Hauser Creek to Lake Morena campground
When I awoke, still filthy from the previous day of sweating and hiking in the dusty desert, I packed up all my wet gear, sucked down another bagel and some Carnation Instant Breakfast, and filtered several liters of water from the stream. The last thing I wanted to do was shoulder my pack and take off. Everything hurt -- my shoulders, my hips, my legs, and my feet. Lake Morena was only 4.5 miles away, but the first 3.5 miles were all uphill. The altitude was toying with me, too. I couldn't quite fill my lungs and catch my breath.
The trail was narrow and rocky and treacherous at times. I trudged like an old woman as my muscles begged me to stop. I didn't, because I wanted to reach the campground. I had to reach the campground. I had no other choice.
All who had camped at the creek were soon out of sight, and I hiked alone again. My thoughts and emotions were wreaking havoc in my head. I trudged along highly discouraged, contemplating my options. I kept telling myself, "You knew this would be hard. You knew you would suffer. Deal with it." But I didn't want to suffer. I didn't want to live through days and weeks and months of pain and distress. "But it will get better," my inner voice would say. Really, when? How many days of agony will I suffer before it becomes easy to hike up and down mountains all day long? What do I do until then? How to I handle the pain and discomfort until then? "You just do," says the voice. Why? Why would I do that to myself when I don't have to? And thoughts of a car trip through the state competed in my head. "You don't have to do this," was a recurring thought. "You can if you want, but you don't have to." My doubts grew exponentially as I hiked.
About two miles from the campground, I came across a day hiker out geocaching. He warned me that he had seen four rattlesnakes on the trial that morning, one with ten rattles. I thanked him for warning me and set off through the snake minefield, hyper-sensitive to any sound of a baby rattle attached to a venomous snake with fangs, poised to strike as I strode by. I never saw one, but knew they were around somewhere, watching me.
I made it to the campground around 11 am and found Deb in a campsite. Jan was there, too, waiting for me -- worried about me. Deb made me a veggie burger, and I felt instantly better. Not ALL BETTER, but better. I took a shower, too. And that was nirvana. I was clean. I like clean. Visions of car camping at campgrounds with showers filled my mind. Once again, I discovered that I was married to the luxuries of life -- like hot running water. It's hard for me to be filthy for days. I learned that on the bike trip. I was hoping I could deal with it.
I hung out at the campground all day, chatting with Deb, and others who were hanging out. We talked about my pack and my doubts and my pain and suffering. Lon (Halfmile), who has thru-hiked the PCT before, showed up around 6. He brought with him a weather report that was quite ominous. Rain was coming. So was snow in the higher elevations (which we would be at soon). The temps would drop by 15 to 20 degrees. Not pleasant.
I had hoped that Halfmile would pick through everything in my pack and help me eliminate things I absolutely did not need in an effort to lighten my pack. But he didn't. He gave me a few suggestions, but that was about it. One of his suggestions was to ditch my tent for a poncho that I could string up and sleep under. It sounded extremist, but I know other people do it. I just don't like mosquitoes biting me all night, and ants crawling all over me while I sleep. I thanked him for considering my situation, then I went to bed. I laid there, again, contemplating my options. I was filled with self-doubt and highly discouraged. I did NOT want to get up in the morning, put on my heavy pack and trudge off up the trail with a storm coming.
The trail was narrow and rocky and treacherous at times. I trudged like an old woman as my muscles begged me to stop. I didn't, because I wanted to reach the campground. I had to reach the campground. I had no other choice.
All who had camped at the creek were soon out of sight, and I hiked alone again. My thoughts and emotions were wreaking havoc in my head. I trudged along highly discouraged, contemplating my options. I kept telling myself, "You knew this would be hard. You knew you would suffer. Deal with it." But I didn't want to suffer. I didn't want to live through days and weeks and months of pain and distress. "But it will get better," my inner voice would say. Really, when? How many days of agony will I suffer before it becomes easy to hike up and down mountains all day long? What do I do until then? How to I handle the pain and discomfort until then? "You just do," says the voice. Why? Why would I do that to myself when I don't have to? And thoughts of a car trip through the state competed in my head. "You don't have to do this," was a recurring thought. "You can if you want, but you don't have to." My doubts grew exponentially as I hiked.
About two miles from the campground, I came across a day hiker out geocaching. He warned me that he had seen four rattlesnakes on the trial that morning, one with ten rattles. I thanked him for warning me and set off through the snake minefield, hyper-sensitive to any sound of a baby rattle attached to a venomous snake with fangs, poised to strike as I strode by. I never saw one, but knew they were around somewhere, watching me.
I made it to the campground around 11 am and found Deb in a campsite. Jan was there, too, waiting for me -- worried about me. Deb made me a veggie burger, and I felt instantly better. Not ALL BETTER, but better. I took a shower, too. And that was nirvana. I was clean. I like clean. Visions of car camping at campgrounds with showers filled my mind. Once again, I discovered that I was married to the luxuries of life -- like hot running water. It's hard for me to be filthy for days. I learned that on the bike trip. I was hoping I could deal with it.
I hung out at the campground all day, chatting with Deb, and others who were hanging out. We talked about my pack and my doubts and my pain and suffering. Lon (Halfmile), who has thru-hiked the PCT before, showed up around 6. He brought with him a weather report that was quite ominous. Rain was coming. So was snow in the higher elevations (which we would be at soon). The temps would drop by 15 to 20 degrees. Not pleasant.
I had hoped that Halfmile would pick through everything in my pack and help me eliminate things I absolutely did not need in an effort to lighten my pack. But he didn't. He gave me a few suggestions, but that was about it. One of his suggestions was to ditch my tent for a poncho that I could string up and sleep under. It sounded extremist, but I know other people do it. I just don't like mosquitoes biting me all night, and ants crawling all over me while I sleep. I thanked him for considering my situation, then I went to bed. I laid there, again, contemplating my options. I was filled with self-doubt and highly discouraged. I did NOT want to get up in the morning, put on my heavy pack and trudge off up the trail with a storm coming.
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