I can't help but think that if I hadn't injured myself skiing, more training and testing of footwear would have been possible and this whole mess avoided. My pack too was doing me no favors: I was reduced to taking breaks every 5-10 minutes as my shoulders cramped up from being levered back... Every attempt at making it more comfortable failed to relieve my spasming shoulders.
We started out at 'determined' pace, and stayed that way all day. The landscape offered little relief after 10 AM, when the sun was high enough that the trails' sinuous ventures into canyons no longer offered relief from the intense rays. We continued weaving in and out, up and down, through landscapes that were either ravaged by recent fire or came very close to it. We stopped for a foot break around 11. Two women from Portland, OR, checked in on us, and recommended the use of antiperspirant on feet to thwart blisters - a preventative measure we had not yet tried. Shortly thereafter, two women (Tracy and Ingrid, who had been trailing us for some time) asked if we had seen the enormous rattlesnake less than a quarter mile back. Sadly for me, and at the great relief/consternation of Erin, we had not seen the snake. Ingrid produced a photo of a very healthy western diamondback rattlesnake, less than 1 meter from the uphill side of the trail. I was half-tempted to go back and look for it, but thankfully that bit of common sense had not been cooked out of my skull.
After an arduous journey across the San Felipe Hills under the rising and warming sun, we dragged into 3rd gate at 1, found some shade, and napped the day away after watching a couple of episodes of Arrested Development on the ol' iPhone. I threw my sleeping pad down on what turned out to be a cactus graveyard, as spine after spine poked through and reminded me of my poor nap site choice and my superb mattress choice (vs. the inflatable, $135 Neo-Air).
The formidable 3rd gate water cache, stocked by the local trail angels.
Erin steeled herself into another stab at hiking in the evening, fueled by the enticing prospect of taking a zero day at Barrel Springs. I walked down to the sizable water cache by a jeep road and marveled at the dedication and heart of the Trail Angels who keep these caches going. There were no fewer than 200 gallons of fresh water there, stocked, in the middle of the desert. I took enough to get us to Barrel Springs, 3 liters/person, and headed back to get ready for the next half of the hike. We packed up, and somehow I managed to misplace one of my gaiters. There really is nothing more vexing than losing something you know you walked up with, took off, and stashed somewhere for safekeeping. This vexation is exacerbated when you only have approximately 10-20 items to lose. I finally found the wayward gaiter tucked beneath the internal hydration pocket, installed the gaiter, and we were off into the setting sun. Erin shuffled her wounded stumps up the hill for 3.5 miles with speed that I had only seen glimmers of since the first day. We hiked under a full moon and were only disturbed by the occasional Marine helicopter duo passing overhead. After a brief break around the 96 mile mark, Erin's fantastic luck whipped up an observation of a long-nosed snake. I excitedly snapped some photos and allowed the snake to slither off the road so Erin could pass.
We took some tired, obligatory photos at the 100 mile mark and tried to look happy, despite our various physical problems.
Me at mile 100.
Erin again smiles through the pain as another milestone is achieved!
At first glimpse, Barrel Springs had more to offer than we had even hoped. The water report said "water, shade, campsites." A guidebook warned of poison oak and ticks - the latter being my least favorite form of multicellular life on this planet. All day and night we were dreaming of what it could be, for better or worse, with nobody to steer us in any particular direction. We were pleasantly surprised to walk into a nice, steep-walled canyon with oak woodland and low scrub understory, and cool spring flowing through a concrete trough. The full moon illuminated enough of the campsite to let us know that we did not make a huge mistake in dedicating a zero day to it the following day, and also let us know that it was a popular spot. No fewer than twelve people had decided to sleep there overnight, and needless to say took the better spots. As discreetly as possible, we hastily pitched the beloved Tarptent in a sandy wash and retired, already taking in the relaxation and much-needed rest of the zero day to come. Oh, and there weren't any ticks.
Coolest critter of the day: easily the long nosed snake. I've never seen one of these guys before, and the beautiful coloration and mild temperament were truly a pleasure.
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