Probably the worst night of the trip so far. Though it was windy when we
set up the tent, it was predictable, and I was able to pitch into the
wind for optimum strength. However, over the course of the night, wind
gusts of 70 mph would hit the peak, then curl around and down the valley
to hit the tent broadside, and rip out all three of the windward
stakes. As a consequence, I was kept squirreling in and out of the tent,
across Smiles, every several minutes to right the ship, so to speak.
The branch over our tent was making creaking noises and threatening to
break free all night. Lastly, I am pretty sure that I heard a mountain
lion traipse through our campsite. Not much sleep involved. We were
shooting for an early ish departure, and almost got going at 5:30 AM
once I was fed up with the tent, but the "last straw" stake held and we
decided to sleep in for a solid 2.5 hours. When we awoke, the wind was
still intense and a severe fog had enveloped the mountaintop.
Somehow we managed to crack a smile in the morning after a horrendous night of not sleeping. Smilin, probably due to the fact that it would not be another blisteringly hot day...
The fog being much preferred to rain or the blazing sun, we set off and
made good time, passing the 500-mile mark within an hour of setting out
from camp.
Smiles at mile 500!
Keeping it gangsta at mile 500.
An otherwise nondescript patch of dirt, we rejoiced in the cool fog at mile 500.
The windy, foggy weather continued as we crested a ridge and dropped into the windward side of the storm. We had a long lunch, which we pitched the tent for, and took a brief nap. The fog lifted when we started hiking again at 4 pm, but the winds remained. I mused at length on why I loved the backcountry, namely due to the fact that you, and you alone, are generally the only person to blame for whatever happens. One's preparedness for all manner of situations is the only thing that lies between success and failure. Having self-reliance and responsibility such rare items in today's society, I reveled in the fact that we were well-prepared for the odd desert weather as the fog condensed and dripped out of my moustache.
Smiles trudges on through the mist and wind across an oak savannah.
More burned forest lay ahead on the descent to Hikertown where the trail crossed highway 138. The wind and mist had slackened at this point, thankfully.
The long, sinuous route into Hikertown at Highway 138 took another 4 hours, then we arrived at a ramshackle, well, town of trailers and facades on Bob's land, which he turned into a shanty-cum-trail angel area. Half-stunned by the 40-mph wind and still sleep deprived, we saw Lunchbox and tried to get the skinny on the odd establishment. It was actually full, and we were going to stop in, eat, get water and leave. We saw team Tingo inside the "cafe"/lounge, who tried to get us to stay the evening. We were convinced we would press on a few more miles, until we saw that the weather report had a high wind alert in effect with gusts up to 62. Not eager to repeat our previous night, we ended up crashing on the floor of the lounge with Games, Reason, and a slightly agitated pooch. However, we didn't end up getting as much sleep as we hoped...
Happy to be done for the day, if nothing else! |
| Smiles drags in to Hikertown as Lunchbox greets us. A curious place, to say the least. |
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