Day 43: Hiker(shanty?)town-Tylerhorse Canyon (mi 518-541)

Team Tingo (Haggis, left,and Running Commentary, middle) crossed the Mojave floor along the aqueduct with us.

Not a good day. Didn't sleep till 2am on account of the dog whimpering all night, which was followed by the 60mph winds beating on the rickety garage doo0, and  culminated with a 5 am wakeup from several roosters crowing just outside the garage. We quickly scooted out, not wanting to encounter anybody who we'd have to lie to and say we had a great time. I had a good coffee and eventually got to a good pace, but an impending bathroom emergency forced me into the desert. Afterwards, the strong wind blew my dirty toilet paper over the desert, which I noticed as I was backfilling the cathole. What I failed to notice while my attention was diverted was that sandy, mostly liquid shit was actually squishing out of the cathole and onto my shoe as I compacted the material and tried to keep track of the mess blowing across the desert floor. Bummer. After a protracted and disgruntled cleaning effort I was back underway. We walked along the aqueduct for some time, and then I developed quite a hot case of chafe, no thanks to my aqueous dung. Smiles' improperly-sized shoes were killing her, to boot, so I tried some shoe surgery on the offending footwear. The rather-curious shoes were supposed to be one full size larger than the ones she got rid of at Hiker Heaven, however they fit much smaller across the forefoot. I cut out most of the forefoot and especially on the sides to give some room. The sole positive development of the day, my left calf no longer hurt. However, the pain just jumped legs to my right calf about 8 miles into the day. The strong tailwind propelled us eastbound on the north rim of the desert floor with ease. With enough naproxen and ibuprofen we made it to our lunch stop at the 17th mile, where we had a pesto tortellini lunch and a brief nap. Easily the best part of the day. After lunch we tried to make as many miles as possible, but fatigue from the lack of sleep grated on us past mile 20. The chafe returned and as I bent over to powder myself, my phone dropped and the otterbox screen broke. We hiked through a truly desolate windswept wind farm, where I saw exactly 8 birds, zero lizards, and not even any ants.

A most reassuring sign.

On the ridges of the wind farm I estimated the wind speed at a steady 50 mph. Small wonder they put several million dollars worth of turbines here... the wind was strong enough that, when suspended from a wrist alone, one's trekking pole would be blown back at a 60-degree angle from vertical. It The wind has all the demotivating power of a hill but without any sense of accomplishment. Trudging into the wind required all the power from legs and arms we could muster, while walking across the wind required  balance and poise with the trekking poles to avoid getting  blown over.  We got to the slightly less windy creek in Tylerhorse Canyon, where we made an executive decision to eat, rest and rise early for our approach to Mojave, rather than press on this evening to chip away at the remaining 16 miles. The last straw: finding out I lost the first aid kit, which included ALL blister supplies, in the wind furor. Not going back for it. 

Day 42: Sawmill CG - Antelope Valley (mi 498-518)

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.

Day 41: escaping the vortex/Casa de Luna - Sawmill CG (mi 478-498)

 Mama Anderson gets characteristically frisky with us during the obligate pre-departure photo. 

Looking north at the trail alignment of the next few days: across the Mojave desert floor, then east and north into the high desert mountains. 



Dehiscent bark on manzanitas (Arctostaphylos spp.) and madrones (Arbutus menzeisii) is an adaptation to the fire regime of chaparral habitats. Our skin was doing the same thing, too, but for completely different reasons.

Somehow we made it out of Casa de Luna. No walk of shame for us! We woke early, packed up, and had light breakfast of Joe Anderson's pancakes. Two blisters on my feet appeared to be mildly infected, despite wicking them and repeatedly dousing with alcohol. The Wolfpack started hiking @ 9, and immediately encountered a warm climb. We encountered lots of hikers on trail, all of whom left Casa de Luna slightly before us. We took a 2 hour early lunch near a water cache with the wolfpack. After our lunch, we discovered that Aloha the Trail Angel was at the cache some 100 feet away,  if that,  with cold soda and chips. My blisters, though calm and well-dressed during the early part of the day, were hot & in action after lunch. I developed an odd, tight twinge in my left calf following lunch on 1500' climb, which initially I wrote off as dehydration and lack of electrolytes. After the climb, we toured west-northwest along a ridgeline through the windy chaparral. We made good time, and were able to see roughly what the next few days would bring: a dry, dry crossing of the Mojave floor, then an east-northeast jog uphill into the desert mountains and into Tehachapi/Mojave. As we continued, my calf and blister pain steadily increased, and I became more concerned that the calf malady was due to a muscle sprain rather than a simple cramp. I finally took painkillers and vitamins to hobble the last mile or so into camp at the Sawmill Campground, and my leg improved quickly. The wind howled through the semi-developed campground flat, and we had a brief dinner with the wolfpack before retiring for the night.

Day 40: Casa de Luna zero

The "hippie daycare" sign adorned the garage door above the annual sign-in sheet. 

Various nick-nacks adorned the landscape at Casa de Luna, only adding to the mystique. 

The Wolfpack, as we dubbed ourselves, taking full advantage of the zero. 

The Wolfpack, plus Sunset, falls in for a photo as Mama Anderson cruises by in the background to check on taco salad setup. 

The sign-in sheet for Casa de Luna, Class of 2013. 

Sour Cream displays his poker winnings, after cleaning up the table in his first-ever poker game. 

Smiles and I reunite with Nancy/Kit Kat, Joe/Reverend Dude, and Marshall (L to R)

I woke up, rolled over and said "zero?" to Smiles, who easily agreed. We lounged in our thicket, reading, after a hearty breakfast of pancakes cooked up by Joe Anderson. I started reading Edward Abbey's "The Monkey Wrench Gang" to put myself in a bit more of a desert-enjoyment mood during long post-breakfast break in the manzanita thicket. After it got too hot, we transferred our lounging to the front yard of the house. We had a big reunion w Marshall, Joe (now the Reverend Dude) & Nancy (now Kit-Kat), whom we hadn't seen since around/near Mt. Laguna. We chilled all day kicking it w hikers, in an environment that was very much difficult to describe. 'The Wolfpack' was formed, with myself, Smiles, T-rex, Rocky, Sour Cream, Chik-chak, Starfox and Lunchbox as members. We painted our middle fingers red as a tribute to Starfox's Aussie heritage. Dropbears were discussed, and I had a good chat with story time regarding many technical details the mechanical engineer and I got on well about. As it was Memorial Day weekend, Mama Anderson cooked up BBQ hot dogs, chicken and ham. I managed to squeeze a few hot dogs in, but was moderately full after eating half a gallon of ice cream. Sour Cream played his first-ever poker game, and won quite handily. Afterwards, the party progressed much as it did the night before - and seemed to do so every night - with dancing, strobe lights, and variously scruffy hikers undulating in the remote hippie hamlet of Green Valley. After I stepped in a muddy ditch, I decided that it was time to turn in, somewhat earlier than the night before. We were determined to hike out tomorrow and continue the northbound walk.

Long delay!

Hi folks, I apologize for the long delay in getting this thing updated. I have a lot written, but only have my phone and limited connectivity to the Internet based on where we've been hiking in the Sierra Nevada and haven't been able to do any really good work on it. I am hoping to get the text posted sometime soon, but unfortunately it looks like photographs may be a ways out. Never fear, smiles and I are still hiking! 

Day 39: random ridge near cache - Casa de Luna (mi 464-478)

Dots on knuckles kept score for the 24 challenge. Photo taken at the Oasis Cache, some 6 miles from the Anderson's. 

Typical desert scenery as we left the Oasis Cache. 

Dr. Smiles examines foot damage once arrived at Casa de Luna. 

We had a slightly groggy, though still early, morning with a heavy dew. We slowly packed up as we dried the moisture off of our prized sleeping bags in the quickly warning sun. I continued drinking beer for the 24 challenge, and quickly shampooed on easy. Our gear dried and we were hiking @ 730. Everyone else was pushed too, and nobody made it more than a mile further than our campsite the night before. Somehow we were the first ones up, and passed Rocky, T-rex, and Chik-chak at the bottom of the hill, while sour cream and lunchbox crashed out at the cache with Games, Reason and Sunset. The hike from there on was long climbing and descending in relatively exposed chaparral habitat, however my load would get 12 ounces lighter every hour or so as I worked on my dwindling supply. I finished the challenge @ the oasis cache, then shotgunned beers w lunchbox, reason, and sunset. We finished hiking in the heat of the day to the Anderson's, and were greeted with a slow clap by approximately 40 hikertrash lounging around "hippy daycare," as Casa de Luna was also dubbed. All the hikers were camped out back in a crazy, sprawling chaparral thicket with a maze of trails. Smiles and I found a patch off the beaten path and spread out our gear, then donned the requisite Aloha shirts - the official uniform of the establishment. We lounged around all day, had beers, and mingled with our fellow hike trash as social bonds coalesced further. A huge taco salad was served for dinner, and a dance party ensued afterwards. A crazy place. 

Day 38: Hiker Heaven-random ridge near a cache (mi 454-465)

Waiting for a good time to hike!

We woke up, after a surprisingly chilly night of sleep,  with the intention of late departure so that we might rest more, blog more, and (most importantly) avoid the heat. After a nice long snooze, we hopped on a couple loaner bikesfor an  exhilarating ride down to town,  got a delicious light french breakfast @ the local cafe and resupplied in town. We blogged all day , and started drinking beers for an attempt at the "24 challenge" to Casa de Luna. The "challenge," a long time trail tradition, requires completing 24 beers and walking 24 miles to the Anderson's within 24 hours. Smiles, Rocky, T-Rex, Chik-chak, sour cream, lunchbox and I started hiking @ 930pm under a brilliant moon, after getting a much-appreciated ride to the trailhead from Tequila Jack. 

En route to the Anderson's, challenge underway! 

It was a brilliant and fun walk, and good times were had by one and all. Smiles' night vision tired out around 11 miles in, so we pitched camp on a flattish ridge in some grass just off the side of the trail around 3 AM. Most challenge beers were consumed by this point, under the cool night air, rather than the withering glare of the daytime sun. Only 7 light beers to go...