P.C.T. Gothic
A view from the border of
Castle Rock.
Amy polishes off yet another
liter of water.
The answer to these pressing question is "Sorry, no not yet." However, we have been having one adventure after another and it's only the first week.
We started hiking the trail on Sunday morning, May 21st. Our friend, Julie, had flown down to San Diego with us and dropped us at the trailhead at 6 a.m. We took pictures, and turned and started north. It was a traumatic moment when Julie drove away. How strange to realize that we were all on our own with no transportation but our feet.
Our goal that first day was Lake Morena, a daunting 20 miles away. The day promised to be hot and was already warm as the sun came over the horizon. We hiked on and on, through chaparral without any shade in sight. When the temperature reached 104, we took a break under a small scrubby bush. I took most of my clothes off because they were wringing wet, deciding that no one else would be crazy enough to be hiking in this weather, when along comes another backpacker. Frankly, I was too tired to make any attempt to cover up and said as much to him as he passed. He said he didn't care as long as I was comfortable, so everyone was happy. He didn't stick around to chat. I can imagine it is taxing to stand around in the heat trying to make conversation with a nearly naked stranger. We have met up with him quite a bit since as he is going all the way to Canada.
We also met a very nice man at Hauser creek who appeared to be an illegal alien. (I was fully dressed this time.) He stopped and chatted with us, or more accurately, with Scott, as he knew very little English and Scott is fairly proficient in Spanish. I kept interjecting intelligent and useful things like "Muy caliente!" into the conversation. (He was understandably having trouble fathoming why 2 people would be out hiking in the stifling heat apparently for fun.) We eventually parted ways, as he was traveling a different route.
Night was falling as we finally reached Lake Morena. A couple of bucks buys you a shower and a spot in the hiker campsite. We immediately went to take showers.
My sweat had hardened to salt in my hair and once wet, the water ran into my mouth, tasting at once acrid and wonderful. I had no shampoo. No soap. I just stood there, letting the water sluice down my body, enjoying the sensation of water over skin. Ahh...
Shower completed, I turned off the water, and contemplated my next move. It seemed incredible to me that earlier that day, I had been laying prostrate from the extreme heat and now here I stood shivering in a shower stall, prepared to dry off with just my bandana. (Oh the joys of lightweight backpacking!)
That night a persistent raccoon bothered us for quite a while. Finally, I had just about had it with him and heard him approach me as I lay in my bag. Hoping to put an end to the disturbance, I sat up, and switched on my headlamp and found myself face to face with a skunk. Well, I wanted no part of that and luckily neither did he and the rest of the night passed peacefully.