Out of Mt Laguna, after a five-hour break or so, we headed another 10 miles down the trail stopping periodically to work the junk food cramps out. I had almost a whole can of Pringle’s, a can of peaches, some mini Oreos, orange juice, and Gatorade shaking around in my stomach while Hop-a-long had coffee, bagel with cream cheese, pickle-in-a-bag, and some carrot cake. We trotted along, getting super distracted by the amazing layer of mountains that seemed to go on forever mixed in with low laying clouds.
We stopped with Peter, Ari, and Joe for a bit when we found a bench on the trail. From there, we had not long to meander to the Pioneer Mail Campground. Right before getting there, the wind whipped out and cooled us off as we went the last mile. Not too shabby for taking a five-hour break in “town” (downtown consisted of three buildings, but super awesome people), seven miles before, ten after. Drop Zone had taken a spill, rolling his ankle badly, swelling up to the size of a baseball. He got some happy pills that night to keep him distracted; good thing he’s a Canadian paramedic.
At the campground, we set up and all gathered around a picnic table attempting to block the wind. I just didn’t cook and ate the lunch that I skipped to eat junk food. The wind stayed blowing strong all night while the moon shone so bright that I thought someone was standing above my tarp with a headlamp.
When 5:30 a.m. rolled around, I was awake and cold, so I began getting ready because I knew the only thing that would get me warm was walking. I packed up quickly, but my hands were super cold. I ended up wearing my wind jacket under my shell and pulling it over my hands on the trekking poles so I had some protection on my hands. The trail stretched wide going out from the campground and made its way over to outstanding views. Before leaving I made sure everything was waterproof since I swore it would rain, yet as soon as I got to the viewpoint corner, I noticed it was just really intense fog hovering over the campsites. When the wind blew, it pushed the fog right off the cliff I walked on forcing it to fall, then disappear.
I walked on and on to keep warm. For a bit I leapfrogged Virgo and High Life, but then I stopped in some sun, huddled under bushes, for a wind block about six miles in or so. There, Hop-a-long, Drop Zone, Dan, Landen, and a Kiwi met up with us until we couldn’t deal with the wind anymore and kept hiking. About five miles later, we took another out of the wind break. A few times, we found ourselves walking with birds for 30 seconds or so as they tried to fly against the wind and went only as fast as we were walking.
We got to a low point and for the first time in 24 hours, the wind stopped. Dead Animal was sleeping down there as he always seems to be. We plopped down and took a long break sprawled out. Drop zone passed out almost immediately and snored. When Peter got there, he pulled off his shoes and showed us his massive foot blisters, one of which was literally 3in x 1in and when he shook his foot, the fluid inside jiggled.
Another five miles and a hill later got us to Rodriguez campground. The evening entertainment was episode 1 of draining Peter’s blisters…which made a puddle of blood and fluid on the dirt where he poked them. Otherwise, we gathered around in a circle and chatted for a long time. Some stars were out, but not too many because the moon leaned toward full. I cowboy camped that night because I simply didn’t feel like setting up.
The morning was still windy, but not terrible. We hiked about ten miles to Scizzor’s Crossing and then took siesta under the overpass, napping, reading, and cooking lunch. The trail angel filling up the cache there told us that a whopping 105 hikers went through Scizzors the day before so we shouldn’t depend on the third gate cache, meaning our next guaranteed water was 25 miles ahead. We filled to capacity.
Hello 11 pounds of water! Pack, you were so light before! Feet, keep up, we’re hiking again…remember? Twenty minutes later the feet give up complaining and walk uphill.
Then, suddenly, a super loud noise startles us and we turn around to see jets soaring to the valley sideways and rushing up to the opposite ridge, pushing themselves up and over at the very last-minute. The heat beat down on us hard and there was no shade to be found. Finally, about five miles uphill later, I glanced down and saw two hikers, Neon and On-the-go, resting in the first shade, so I joined them for a bit, later Hop-a-long and Drop Zone did too.
When we got it together again, we hiked on another four miles or so to campsites in the saddle of the ridge. We all plopped down for dinner and decided not to leave. We sucked in almost everyone else that passed: the four Israelis who set up their tents right smack dab in the middle of the trail, then made a cook fire in a camping spot. Joe and Peter came in, then Virgo, then Ari and Inspector Gadget joined us with pie and beer from town. Ari seized the cook fire opportunity and made Triscut pizzas for everyone.
Out of nowhere, strange noises appeared! We looked up.
“There’s two satellites!” Drop Zone said.
“No, they’re planes” an Israeli said.
“Aliens!” Shouted Peter. “No, really, this is how they get reported…people hanging out drinking in the woods looking up at moving, flashing lights.”
Most of us just cowboy camped that night, filling a few per flat spot. The night was warm, meaning the next day would be hot, so most of us left before 6:30 a.m.
We went in about 5 mile chunks all day through the heat. The first of which was at the third gate cache. It had more water than we thought, but not a lot. The second of which was in a small cave west of the trail which was so small, only one person could fit, so we strung up my tarp and huddled under it for shade cooking some lunch up. Then we heard a rumor of chili and beer at Barrell Springs. On the word “beer,” we packed up and walked five more miles there to find nothing but a spring.
We sat down and rested our feet for only a few minutes when a few trail angels came with coca cola and Gatorade. Chatting with them for a while was refreshing – just to talk to other people. After they left, we hitched into the store four miles down the road with Lawrence, who conveniently had come to round-up some hikers since business was low.
We got quite a bit of beer and some chips and headed right back for beer run number two. More hikers came through than we thought so we went through two twelve packs and four tall boys, then hiked out at 7:45 to do 5 more miles to eagle rock. About two miles in we paused for a safety meeting. The moon lit the way.
“Hey, did one of you guys step on a toad back there?” Hop-a-long asked.
Everyone checked their feet. “Maybe, none of us where using headlamps,” Ari replied.
“He hopped away, but I’m pretty sure one of his eyes had popped out.”
It went by super quick with that wonderful beer buzz until we hit cows. In the dark. Inspector Gadget and Ari started backing up and Dead Animal had to push them through while I trotted up behind them. When we were clear, we stopped to watch as Hop-a-long and Drop Zone scurried through. It seemed as though the cows began to surround them for a moment, but then they emerged.
We got to Eagle Rock and threw down to cowboy camp there. Eagle rock is one of those landmarks that actually lives up to its name. Not one of those areas that claims to look like something but it really doesn’t or only looks like it if you cross your eyes and stand on your head ones.
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