We started out the day with a beautiful and easy meandering walk up the Whitewater River canyon. The granitic sand pavement made easy walking, and the gradient was mellow. The high walls kept the desert sun from molesting us too badly, at least for our brief and pleasant walk. Two quick and easy stream crossings - a novel concept at this point in the journey - and a quick greeting to 3 cats, then we were up and on our way to the Mission Creek drainage several miles away. We went up and down through eroded sand canyons and through washes before rolling along a quasi-plateau ridge line with phenomenal desert and mountain views.
A steep descent into Mission Creek aggravated a new hotspot beneath my right foot, the first of the trip. The temperature had been steadily increasing all morning, and our stop for lunch at the softly babbling creek was perfectly timed. We doused our feet immediately, and I tried repeatedly at convincing Smiles of the merits a refreshing, wet kerchief on face.
Three cats, smiles and I took a long lunch by the stream while discussing politics, travel, our origins, and other assorted such topics (including the definition of 'thalweg'). Uncle famous, Miss Maggie, and Ian stopped by for a quick lunch, then continued onward up the hot cañon for the 14-mile ascent. We weren't so motivated, which eventually paid offninnthe form of thick grey clouds to sheild us from the hot sun.
Eventually we started up the seemingly endless, barren, fire-scorched cañon. Within two miles of lunch, we heard the sounds of far-off thunder as the clouds a thickened. Moments later, a few drips leaked out of the skies, and we donned our flashy umbrellas without breaking stride. A quick deluge, and then the activity ceased and the umbrellas were stowed almost as quickly as they were deployed. Quite marvelous. No stopping to don and doff jackets and pants, no muggy sweat inside the rain gear.
After crisscrossing the flowing creek and recovering riparian cover numerous times(while being intermittently pelted with bullets of rain and hail), we climbed out of the flowing channel and more uphill towards Goronio. The Joshua trees were in bloom, but since the fire claimed their distinctive, furry bark, they looked more like grotesquely charred elephant limbs than the novel trees that they are.
We passed two sodden southerners who started a fire to dry out their belongings, then climbed up towards the Mission Creek ridge. We saw MC Poodlebush 9; poodledog bush/common turricula (T. Xxx). We were a little thrown off at first, considering the plant was not in bloom at the moment and all the pictures we'd seen showed the brilliant purple flowers. Instead, they looked like huge, shabby cannabis plants. Poodledog bush, if touched, can cause intense itching and rashes worse than poison oak if an individual is susceptible to the secretions of tiny hairs on its leaves. Nasty stuff. It also conveniently colonizes systems within a few years of a large fire, which meant that we had plenty to see yet.
As we reached the top of the ridge, a cold montane drizzle started without indication of a short duration. Chilly an hungry, we took the first campsite beneath a blue oak overlooking a 800' drop to Mission Creek below. I tried my hand at the tricky Knorr's Alfredo Pasta Side, then we tucked in for our third night above 7,000 feet after a solid day of hiking.
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