Friday, May 24, 2013

Day 24: Mission Creek ridge to Arrastre trail camp (mi 237-256)



Today started out as a tense day. It started out getting passed by lots of people, which annoys both Smiles and myself, largely due to my own habits.  We continued our climb up the ridge to get more water, then climbed and j-hooked around a mountain with spectacular views  of a freshly snow-dusted Mt. Gorgonio.   Smiles was out of breath from the elevation, and was not enjoying the trip after the pressure I placed on mileage and pace following my late-night freak out after leaving Idyllwild. I suppose the two neros and two zeroes did get under my skin. Several nights ago I awoke on San Jacinto in a panic that we were behind schedule and in danger of not making it to Canada, and wanted to do more miles per day. Well, today Smiles called me on it after a late lunch stop looking out at Mt. Gorgonio and said that I wasn't being supportive and was not making the hike fun for her by pressing too hard and not focusing on the day-to-day victories and enjoyments. I had been in my own head a bit, and had been focusing too much on the competitive aspect of the hike rather than the journey. Serendipitously, we encountered some trail magic and some good company at the onyx summit cache, where we enjoyed several beers and some music. 


Enjoying the sofas and trail magic at Onyx Summit. 

The Wild Boys, two brothers and their dog, left their jobs in Orange County and were foraging and hunting their way north. They regaled us with music and a wealth of stories and holistic knowledge, and we gave them some peanuts and rice cakes (as their foraging had been difficult since leaving the desert floor) which were consumed promptly. 

After our impromptu dinner and entertainment, Smiles and I made a hasty descent the remaining four miles into camp. Not knowing whether it was the influence of the two beers on our empty stomachs, the high altitude, or the threat of finishing our hike at night, we tore down the hill like hellions. The occasional scree patches on the trail in the pinyonpine and mixed fir forests gave our footsteps extra distance. We still were the last ones into camp, and made do with a quick pitch and no proper dinner, as we did not want to disturb the numerous other hikers at the late hour of 845 PM (only 15 minutes prior to hiker midnight). We both peeled off our shoes and socks, the latter of which stood up on their own from the salt and dirt crusts, and observed four very wounded and battered hooves. The happy times for my feet were over, at long last, as the hot spots graduated into full blown blisters beneath the ball of my right foot, on my left heel, and on the insides of my index(?,2nd) toes. Thankfully, rest was only ten miles away in Big Bear. Just another day walking in the woods. 

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