The Pacific Crest Trail runs 4240 kilometres from the Mexican to the Canadian border. Every year, about 700 people set out on this five-month wilderness thru hike, and about 30 per cent complete it. Me — I’m planning to hike for a month.
I felt like a bit of a fraud on the first day. Every one of the 35 or so people gathered at the terminus were intending to complete a thru hike except me!
The trail begins at Camp Lockett, the remains of a World War II military base, where the last unit of the Buffalo Soldiers and the last active equestrian unit in the US Army were based.
Today, Camp Lockett is a hiker haven with shaded campsites, showers, and an open air kitchen. Every night there is an advice-filled presentation about hiking the PCT (rule number one: don’t die) that all of us PCT-newbies listened to raptly.
The next morning I set out feeling both excited and nervous. At least I had company. Though most of the time I walked alone, hiking the PCT is like being part of a travelling village. You hopscotch past the same people each day and set-up camp near them each night.
As they told us at Camp Lockett, you don’t hike from campsite to campsite on the PCT, you hike from water source to water source. Figuring out how far away the next stream is and how much water to carry is your number one priority.
The first few days were hot — 33 degrees at times! Most of us were rising before dawn and hitting the trail by 6 am. By 1 pm, we were looking for a shaded camping spot, because it was just too hot to continue. The detailed hiking schedule I had so carefully drawn up before leaving Banff was out the window by day three. I had thought I could complete the occasional 24-k day, but 18 k was the best I could manage.
It’s been too dry here for much of a spring bloom, but a few striking flowers prevailed.
As we slowly inched north, the views became more expansive, and the campsites more idyllic.
I have been keeping pace with a friendly group of 20-somethings from all over the US and Europe (secretly gloating that I had them by nearly 50 years.) In my head I’ve taken to calling them ‘the kids’.
I’ve dubbed my hike the ‘In Denial Tour’ — because I’m in denial that I turn 70 this June. Not the number itself. 70 is a cool milestone. What I’m in denial about is that being 70 will cause any change in my physical abilities. Ha!
So far, so good. I’ve reached the first real milestone on my trek — the town of Julian where I picked up a resupply package of food and an absentee ballot for the Canadian election. Wayne and Ruth Norman, who live outside LA and are veteran Festival volunteers, very kindly picked me up and shuttled me the 20 k from the trail into town.
But by far the most exciting event of this hike thus far was Monday’s 5.2 magnitude earthquake! I was sitting the shade of a large rock just off the trail when the rock began to shake — a lot! Took me a couple of beats to realize what was happening, and by then it was over. Two hikers who had been sitting by a large water cistern nearby scurried away as the cistern began to clang and the water inside audibly sloshed. Julian, which was near the epicentre, suffered some broken glass and there were several news crews in town later in the afternoon to cover the damage. Needless to say the quake was the talk of the trail and the town!
At the moment, I am holed up at the delightful Julian Lodge. Most of my travelling village is in town too — all of us taking a zero day, which is trail parlance for a day off from hiking.
Unfortunately I’ve come down with a nasty cold and will likely stay in Julian a few days to recover. Not that I’m complaining too much. It’s very nice not to have to crawl outside my tent every time I have to pee! My only regret is I will lose touch with ‘the kids’!
