Lunch Break in the sun

It's still windy but the sun is keeping us warm. We are waiting for our food to rehydrate. Two days ago we met a hiker named Elijah. He would have pAssed us by but DG said something conversational ("Hi"). She then asked if that was his trail name to which he replied, "No". DG offered Moses as his new name and he wasn't impressed. He said all of the names people hAd tried on him were stupid. Then he told us ( by way of conversation)  that last night a scorpion had crawled into his sleeping bag. DG Asked whAt he had done with it and he said it was in his pack. He had put it in his ibuprofen container. Now he had DG's interest. "What are you going to do with it"? He said he didn't know. Then he related that he was an amateur entymologist. How nice for him that a scorpion chose him. By now DG is trying to find a way to save this creature (entymologist be damned). She offered him 20 dollars to release the scorpion and then he could have the trail name of Jesus. He didn't want that name. He said he wanted to check out his spider which  DG had started calling Fred Astaire for some bizzare reason. Elijah suddenly asked if we wanted to see it. Yes from everyone including Sochi who had just joined us. The trail can be quite the thorough fare. Elijah takes off his pack, locates his ibuprofen bottle and opens it before 8 sets of peering eyes. Fred was yellow. Elijah disturbed him and his tail curled. A tiny droplet of poison appeared at the end of his tail. Photos were taken. DG keeps pressing him to let it go. "If you were a spider would you want out" DG asked Elijah. Elijah said he'd want out but he did not release him. Then Elijah asked if we had ever seen a sun spider that has a head that looks like a horse. No, no one had. Out came another specimen jar. He told us not to open this one because this spider can jump and bite the hell out of your face. We peered through the opaque container and saw some kind of deformed head. He brought out his last specimen which was a dead Jerusalem cricket. This cricket had black and yellow stripes like a bee. He needed to take  bugs home, to analyze them; identify them, pin them; collect them. All his classifying info was at home. He couldn't do it in the field hence his need for specimens.

DG preoccupied with the scorpion asked Elijah if it would die. Elijah had fed him a cricket and he had put air holes in the pill bottle. Elijah had himself a pet. DG asked him why he didn't feed him the dead cricket and he said it was too big. At this point we were all informed that scorpions had two mouths. They open up their jaws and another mouth comes out. Oh...DG gave Elijah the trail name " Scorpion". It was well received. The question is should DG have snatched the pill container out of Scorpion's hands and set him free? When is it appropriate to interfere? Did this spider now belong to Scorpion? If someone else had found this spider what would have happened? Instant death? Isn't all life precious? Apparently Scorpion had been bitten twice by rattlesnakes and had been bitten by every kind of spider. He had already had pet scorpions that he played with and that rode on his shoulders. Scorpion had been home schooled. He didn't have his GED. He wanted to study entymology. After doing the PCT he was going to start the journey to get what he wanted. The PCT will become his proving ground. He had already lost a hundred pounds in preparation for the hike. DG stopped worrying about Fred Astaire but the ethics of it all kept her thoughts alive for days. She was not willing to take on Scorpion's karma. She had enough of her own.

Alive mile 636. May 20

We are at 7,100 ft. it's 44 degrees and we are out of the wind for a second. Surrounded  by clouds we are in some kind of weather. Yesterday we spent half the day in the Mojave wind being tossed, turned, frozen, pummeled,generally galed out by it all. We have been carrying water for 2 days so our packs are wrapped around our ankles. Topo baled yesterday and is now clean and fed in Lake Isabella. Who knows when we'll meet again. DG and TC are stil alive and loving the raging elements. They are sustaining 20 something mile days because they have to. It's too cold to continue blogging but we wanted you a to know life is continuing for the UNITED FORCE. We'll keep in touch. There is so much to share.

Into central California 5/17

We are out of the flat desert but now we're climbing into some hot green hills. Today got up to 88 degrees. DG turned into a salt lick and T.C felt the top of her head to be on fire. The day started at the German  bakery for breakfast ( 6am). For the first time in her life DG had a pastry and a cup of coffee. Apparently she wasn't hungry enough for anything else. TC had a roasted pork and turkey panini heated up, Topo had a ham and cheese croissant. However, DG ordered a humungus sandwich to go and it took her all day on the trail to eat it. It probably weighed 2 pounds. The pastry was deliciously sinful and lasted her 3 hours. The ladies were driven to the trailhead by a retired NASA engineer who was now the only taxi in town. He called trail angels trail devils because they take his business away. He was good humored and we were glad to give him some business. He was extemely handsome. One of those people you never want to leave. 

     We started to climb and the wind was blasting us a to kingdom come. DG was giddy with delightful hysteria laughing into the gusts that were trying to blow her off the mountain. She was learning to ride the wind. The wind already knew how to ride her. TC was tearing up with gratitude.  She's loving the wind now because it keeps her cool and hating it wasn't getting her anywhere. When the two met at the summit they were almost crazed - laughing, crying, flying. Guess who they met hiking? The extortioner!! Honestly he was hiking with an oversized knapsack that was not fitted properly. DG said hello and immediately forgave him his cluelessness of the other day. Some people ARE  clueless. Bless him. He was out there trying to be a hiker and having a hell of a time. He was on his way down when we were going up. He had probably been hiking for awhile eventhough the summit was only a short distance. God bless that nutty man.

       The first few hours were in the 70's then we turned a corner and we were in the 80's. We had to carry about 10 pounds of water. When we left the hotel all three of our packs weighed 42 pounds. That did not include DG's sandwich. The weight was oppressive but we sprinkled star dust on our toes and before we knew it the packs were still heavy, like carrying a cement truck on our backs. What made it all worthwhile aside from that morning pastry were those amazing orange flowers that kept popping up around the most unlikely corners. They danced in those gale force winds. Just another day hanging out, standing tall in the wind. I've described them as poppies but they are some kind of lily. They only have three petals. They are so bright and strong one cannot ignore them. They must be loved.

Snake friend.

   TC chose to eat at a Japanese restaurant for her birthday dinner. Between them, DG and TC ordered 7 different dishes. Topo ordered two dishes. The waitress kept trying to place food in front of her but DG and TC claimed most of the dishes on the table. That might be a record number for those crazy food obsessed bubbies. TC was happy with the quality and taste. DG had froth coming out of her mouth. It could have been the seaweed salad that had fronds and such. Topo was mainly speechless.

We haven't left the wind farms, crazy lenticular clouds. 

Tehachapi. Mile 566

 Hello all you virtual hikers,

    We're finally at a place that DG at least recognizes by name. She and TC have driven highway 58 numerous times and driven by Tehachapi but never actually checked out the town. DG has always wanted to. The draw, written on the first sign you see is, "A Land of Four Seasoms". Coming from a city of that nature DG is nostalgic for it. It's in the mountains ( 4,500 ft) and the weather has always been dramatic when they have driven through ( windy, blizzardly, foggy, cold). We all know how DG is attracted to drama. Being born and bred in a country of heinous weather (Scotland) it feels like home.

Santa Cruz, apart from a storm or two is too perfect to produce anything too hardy. Perhaps she should go and live in the White Mountains in California ( on the East side of the Sierra) where the hardiest tree, the oldest living plant on the planet lives - the bristlecone pine. It thrives on adverse conditions. Dirty Girl is beginning to look like one of those trees. Her skin looks like bark and the withering process is in full effect. 

      Yesterday we were picked up by a pseudo trail angel. He had been picking up hikers and driving them the 8 miles to town. Someone gave him $ which is not unusual but by the time he picked us up he had fashioned an idea. In the space of a few hours he decided," I don't want money I'll just get those strong energetic hikers to work for me". He picked up our group and there were three other hikers going back on the trail. He had brought a garbage bag to empty out the trash bin which he promptly handed off to Topo and Sugar Pine. They lifted the grodiest bin and dumped. He had brought wAter which everyone else unloaded while he deployed instructions. Fair enough. DG took the garbage bag and started picking up all the litter in the area which consisted of a lot of shitty toilet paper and bottles filled with vile liquid. Fair enough. Everyone comes back to his car and DG had missed out on a previous conversation. This guy wanted us to fill buckets with gravel (decomposed granite) from the side of a road just a mile or two down the road. He'd drive us and of course the buckets and a shovel were already in the car. DG fumed inwardly. This was extortion. She has never used this word before and is exactly sure of its meaning but as she sat on the wet stinking floor of the snotty car with her hand holding the fermenting trash that's the word that came up. 

   Dear readers, do not think PCT hikers ungrateful or entitled. They would do anything for a trail angel who was really a trail angel but this old fart was different. Money is all most PCT hikers can give. By the time they are being picked up they are tired, dirty, hungry, stinky and not glowing. To be asked to shovel gravel  (illegally at that ) at the end of their day is a bit much. The reason trail angels are so loved by hikers is that they give freely and without expectation. That kind of giving is transformational for everyone. That kind of giving changes hearts and lives) In his defense he was a bandana-wearing, pony-tailed, 60 something Oregonian transplant who probably grew up in more of a "trade" culture but you can't be asking hikers with swollen blistered feet and stress fractures who have been walking in the Mojave desert to shovel gravel for you in exchange for an 8 mile car drive.

      Back in the car: The threesome are deposited by the side of the road. DG in her indignant fury takes the shovel and starts throwing in gravel. The others are instructed to use their hands to pull the gravel into the bucket. DG receives the same instructions but points out to the extortioner that she has a shovel. She does not need dirt shoveling instructions. The shoveling takes less than 2 minutes to complete. Buckets loaded they are back in the  car. There is some discussion about what has transpired. The pseudo trail angel asks if we think what he is doing is OK. He thinks asking for labor (a couple of hours) would be better than taking money. DG says she would rather give money. She also adds that this is the first time anyone has asked for this kind of help. No one else (TC and Hog are with her) says much. DG says she is not sure it's a good idea. Hog says people can say no. NOT!!! Who's going to say no in this situation? It is human kindness along with fear, anger, and indignation to say yes. Maybe there is some cowardness in there to. Some false sucking up and manipulation just to get a ride. In retrospect DG is happy the guy got his buckets filled. She doesn't appreciate the manipulative slant. Ordinarily she would have landscaped his entire garden for him. He jokingly said he was going to take us to his house to unload and spread the gravel. We know that's what he wanted and for a moment DG thought she was being kidnapped to a labor camp.

     He dropped the ungrateful mob at the Best Western and asked if they wanted a lift to the trailhead tomorrow. Hog said yes and was offering to do something for the guy. DG, TC and Topo said "No thank you".

TC feeling more like a stinky camper!

Check in at Best Western. 

Pool party. 

The Aqueduct

As I was saying, compared to the poodle dog  bush the aqueduct was a piece of cake. For the most part the aqueduct is

 under a paved road. Any cars that drove by drove on the dirt road which is along side the covered aqueduct, so it got pretty dusty. The road was flat and easy to walk. Mojave schmohave. I guess we lucked out with the heat. A number of people believed the weather report which called for 90 degree temps with Santa Ana winds (supposed to be hot) so they walked at night under the full moon. We just did what we always do, we walked. Today we were back in climbing up via switchbacks, so much more interesting.

       Tomorrow we are going into Tehachapi for a zero day. We are ahead of schedule so what the hell, another rest day!! Talk to you soon.

Mojave crossing in pictures

Hiking the aqueduct. 

Fellow hikers walking the pipe. 

Fulling moon and desert dusk. 

Cooking on the enclosed aqueduct. 

Rest break, using what you have, conveniently spaced every 1/2 mile or so. 

Looking back at the Mojave. 

Trail angels water cache. Thanks to Daniel & Larry from Tehachapi. 

The Mojave and Tehachapi

I

Well after hearing about how hot crossing the Mojave can be and all the drama associated with it our journey which took about 13 hours and was not uncomfortable. There was a breeze all day. We walked through a wind turbine farm for 6 hours which was both eerie, peaceful and loud.There was the sound of the wind; there was the sound of the wind going through the propellers of the turbines which sounded like planes flying overhead; there was the mesmerizing rotation of the propellers which made Dirty Girl dizzier than she already is...she felt like she was being sucked into outer space (she might have been for a brief period). The peacefulness probably came from thinking that using the wind to generate power is a good, green kind of thing. I know nothing about wind turbines except they provide a lot of employment for Rope Access and the climbers associated with that company. I know so little about anything especially chem trails and wind farms.

     We camped at a stream (Tylerhorse Creek) which supplied us with water. We were so grateful despite the abundance of cow shit everywhere. What was more troublesome was the amount of people who stay here (PCT hikers) who seem to have forgotten the rules about camping near water. We are supposed to camp 100 feet from water. That did not happen. People were literally camped one foot away from the stream. It's easy to see how places get trashed. Do animals defecate where they sleep? Humans do. In fact as I blog this Topo is on a shit finding mission. She can smell it but she can't see it and she is in her tent. DG and TC also smell shit but that's  because DG has indigestion from shoving too much junk into her mouth too quickly (garlic rosemary almonds and pistachios with Trader Joe's Cowboy Bark mix. Very bad combo). Tidy Camper will suffering for awhile. Dirty Girl is mainly laughing hysterically. Smelly farts just make her lose control.

     Onward with our story. We left this morning at 6:15 and walked through incredible blooming meadows. We were on hillsides that were covered with tiny starburst flowers that were white in the center and purple on the outside. They made the hill shimmer wth brightness almost like what happens when you walk over really white snow. You have to squint your eyes a bit. The fragrance was perfect, way better than any manufactured smell. Sweet and light. Purple, white, yellow, and of  course that brilliant California poppy orange. The yellows had two shades of yellow. Gifts and more gifts. Our senses were fully alive. Perfect colors and perfect arrangements. From a distance an entire hill looked purple or yellow or white. All of the trees in this area had been burned. Black standing skeletons amongst little glories of creation.

     Once again we were beside the wind turbines but this time we weren't walking through them but behind them. We saw 5 black horses (wild?) standing beside a turbine. Two were eating what the ground offered, one was sitting down and 2 were curious about us hikers. They stared at us as we stared at them. As I type this I am looking at two propellers slowly turning in the wind. We are below them and they sound like a distant highway and there is a not so distant highway.  We are camped under an oak tree in a wind farm next to Tejachapi Willow Spring road. This is quite a setting and there are many sounds of industry. Nature squeezed between roads, turbines, and other man made structures. We are grateful for our campsite eventhough there is hidden buried shit everywhere.

Wind turbines from our tent. 

Our campsite. 

Topo's tent from our supine position. Avoiding the heat. It' only 80, not bad!