Longest day yet. 4am wakeup and 5am departure from the wide spot in the trail we camped on next to the reservoir. Both Erin And I were in considerably poor shape at first get-go, with our blisters and sore feet and joints making themselves known. At least we were more prepared than the day before, when the heat caught us off guard, as did the post office hours in Wrightwood some 60 miles away (at that point. We had narrowed that to 40+ miles at the time we started today). As dawn broke over the reservoir, we made ou way along its contours, swatting away clouds of gnats while listening to the departure of the nightjars and the dawn songs of the scrub locals (towhees and the like). The light of day illuminated a dominant peak to the east that was shielded from view within the Deep Creek cañon. By 7 we had departed the reservoir, and by 830 we had completed the only major climb of the day, and only had 10 or so miles until McDonalds. Now, I do not frequent Mickey d's, nor do I generally associate with such folk. However, options are really limited at the Cajon Pass transit center. Combined with a 6,000 calorie/day metabolism and way too much time to think about food that's not sitting in the bottom of your bag, a greaseball fast food restaurant starts to sound downright gourmet.
After dropping down through more of the typical high desert scrub, signs of civilization became more prevalent: howling of train horns, a few random houses, high-voltage transmission lines, and the background drone of the interstate.
Just as the the day started cooking at full blast, we came upon the edge of a massive canyon of decaying, windswept sand that plummeted down towards the pass, with the PCT picking its way down the ridges to the north.
The transit corridor of I-15 and the freight trains bisected the scene, with the San Gabriel mountains climbing from the floor in the background. The wind was fierce, and it became clear how the canyons were created.
Smiles saw several of her new favorite critters - horned lizards- on the way down, and one was patient enough to provide decent photographs.
Most small to medium sized lizards are preoccupied with looking around warily and running away, in that order. Horned lizards just do so in a manner that amplifies their awkward and ungainly body style. As we plodded downhill as quickly as our poor feet let us (2-3 mph, give or take) an endless amount of cars whizzed up the pass at 65 mph, an equally endless amount of cads whizzed down the pass at (presumably) more than 65 mph, and 2-4 mile long freight trains with up to 8 locomotives churned up and down the grade at remarkably short intervals. It was something altogether normal for the area, but wholly different from the surreal simplicity and bubble of life on the trail.
The experience at McDonald's exacerbated the rift we felt from society, as this was about the closest interaction we would have for the duration of the trip. Erin and I were nearly delirious and certainly half-crazed as we staggered up the road from the trail, and wasted no time in ordering our first round. Plenty of other hikers were there, and it was easy to separate them from the others. A semi-disheveled appearance, dust smudges, salt stains underneath strap marks - all telltale signs of hiker trash. As promptly as our food arrived, it disappeared into my gullet. There we sat, whiling the hours away with story time, carrot, sour cream, and eventually Viking, while the 3,000 calorie grease ball I had consumed dissolved into my system. We found out that Rocky, t-Rex, and tick tock were all down for the count due to injury and illness, an were trying to hitch in from the reservoir. They arrived just as smiles and I set out again, and we made plans to meet up with them in Wrightwood.
I love caffeine. It did such amazing things for me following the horrible lunch i had (such as, not making me feel like I had a horrible lunch). We climbed up and over some tilted granite formations uplifted by the proximal San Andreas fault.
I saw many a train up close and personal, and finally identified a buzzing sound I'd been hearing as Costa's hummingbird. Then, while reorganizing my pack on a knife-edge ridge, I heard a raptor shriek that I hadn't before. After a quick review of field guides and observation, I found the birds to be a nesting pair of prairie falcons.
Time snuck up on me, and I made a hasty dash to catch up with Smiles. She was waiting at the cache, and we made dusk ascent into the San Gabriel's to cap the day. We again cowboy camped at a wide spot in the road, though this one was narrower, and far inferior.
Coolest critters: postcard perfect horned lizard, Costa's hummingbird calling and diving in San Andreas rift zone (finally id'd. Been hearing for the last few days). Pair of prairie falcons on a cliff
You were right - THAT horned lizard shot is the shit. Nice work
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