Day 11- Jenn

We woke up from our blustery magical night in the boulders on a mountain top to descend probably 10 miles straight down into Cabazon. Downhill is hard. Harder than uphill. Sometimes. The trail was overgrown in places and although beautiful, every purple flower induced a mini panic attack from Matt with the assumption that it was Poodle Dog Bush. It didn't help that we could see exactly where we were headed for hours, with dozens of switchbacks between us and the water tank/faucet with the promise of quenching our thirst. We passed the 200 mile mark which didn't really count because of the 30 mile tail closure we had to hitch around. Our goal was a trail angel house run by a couple known as Ziggy and the Bear, with the hopes of at least an additional 8 miles beyond that to get us closer to Big Bear. We heard that they would do Burger King runs and epsom salt foot soaks if the mood was right. Upon completion of the never ending descent we were faced with a 3 mile flat section that ran straight through wind turbines. Which meant lots of wind. And sand. And a full body exfoliation. Thanks Cabazon. We passed under a bridge that offered trail magic of cookies and apples and the remnants of soda and beer. And a large orange snake. We hobbled into Ziggy and the Bears sometime in the early afternoon where we were greeted by a few fellow hikers and the Bear himself. A friendly old man who had us sign in and take our pictures for his PCT scrapbook. We chatted for a few minutes and explained that we were supposed to pick up our next batch of food from Matt's parents in Palm Springs according to a predetermined meet up that we were 4 days too early for. We were stuck in Cabazon with really no option to resupply unless the Bear agreed to take one of us to the market. Which he did- so Matt got salami nuggets, pepperoni sticks, and tortillas. Luckily, and also sadly, a couple was leaving the trail at Cabazon and gave us the food that would have taken them to Big Bear. We also got some whoppers. After showers and eating, we set out to hike 8 miles to the White Water Preserve for camping- but 2 miles into it Matt started having some knee troubles and couldn't really walk anymore. After a few minutes of debate- we decided it was better to go back to the house and rest for the night than risk it and push forward. The thought of him injured and having to leave was probably the worst feeling that either of us have had- trail or not. Ending this adventure with an injury is a thought nobody wants to entertain- but it's always a possibility. We slowly hobbled back to the house where the Bear brought out a bag of ice and a hiker offered Tiger Balm to ease the pain. Hiker midnight (8:00) came quickly and we grabbed our sleeping spots to cowboy camp in the yard, partially sheltered by the howling wind. As we drifted to sleep, lawn chairs started flying around the yard and we wiggled around like little caterpillars to find safer spots. All I cared about was Matt's body letting him continue on in the morning, and my shoes not blowing away. But we never got a foot soak.