Day 12 - Ziggy & The Bear's to Mission Creek
We all woke up spooning, basically. The wind had taken it's toll blowing around the patio furniture and even blowing in a new hiker who appeared overnight. His name was Mud and he was hiking SoBo for the hell of it. He gave us high hopes for nice water and scenery in the coming days. Bear was up before the sun and he neatly laid out mini wheats, fruit loops, and Cheerios, while also starting the backyard coffee brewer and placing individually wrapped orange juices on the patio table. Us hikers sat around as the sky turned blue and drank coffee like we'd never see it again. Everyone was complaining about their injuries and I didn't want to play along. We packed up, I tied a bandana around my knee, said quick goodbyes and made our way back to the trail, walking into the windmills which still sat still in the silent morning. The knee was still pretty bad but I knew if I made it past the 2 mile marker, I'd make it through the day. That mile marker came and went and with my gimp strut tight I moseyed on. We climbed up and then into and then around a large canyon that brought us to the San Gorgonio Wildnerness. The walls of the canyon grew tall above us and were textured like wrinkled pants. It seemed a large river once powered through here, but now a small creek weaved it's way in and out of very fine bright white sand. Mission Creek was the first natural body of water we encountered. I washed my face and neck in it and watched local girls in ill fitting swim suits hop scotch from boulder to boulder. Jenn and I were taking the day as it came. It was up to the knee. We hit 8 miles and then 14 and everything felt good. The white sand and the sounds of mission creek were soothing. It was like hiking through a Japanese rock garden. At mile 17 I knew we'd have access to the creek for drinking so I pressed on. The sound of water grew louder. I was in one of my dehydration hazes. My stomach growled and I whistled to calm it down. I could see the creek crossing my path in the distance. It wove its way around a beautiful Alder tree that gave shade to a giant naked man. He laid there like the Cheshire Cat seductively draped in a blanket that matched a beard that dropped down to his chest. He shot me a hello and I headed straight for the creek. He caught Jenn's attention with a do-I-know-you bit, but thankfully stayed put as we walked up stream to bathe and filter water. I laid in the creek and let the water work its way over me. It was warm and heated by underground volcanic activity. Jenn let her feet dangle in the water and I enjoyed how the sun reflected off of her legs. We cleaned up, filtered our water for the next 12 hours and went off in search of a campsite at mile 231. After longer than we thought, we found the clearing. It was a perfect little site that sat off the trail about ten feet and over Mission Creek. We positioned the head of the tent down canyon and watched as mountain ranges turned from orange to pink to violet and black. We fell asleep to the rhythm of crickets.
Day 13 Mission Creek to Arraste Camp
We didn't know what to expect the next day. We hadn't taken the time to look at the maps or elevation, all we knew was that there was 1 water source 10 miles in and one source 20some miles in. We started by climbed our way out of the creek, stopping for our 5 mile snack at a giant oak that someone had left their flip flops under. I took them. We continued up very loose climbs that cut through manzanita and scrub oak. In sections trees and shale had fallen making moving at a mile per hour feel extreme. A few hours in, I passed a message in the dirt fashioned with pinecones. It said "BIPOLAR". I contemplated it briefly and then moved on. Eventually I arrived at the spring camp for water. Spring camps are hit or miss. Up until now, a spring camp has meant a horse trough, but today, it was something much nicer. Tucked away about a quarter mile off the trail was a natural spring that dripped from rocks above into a blue bucket. It smelled and tasted like candy and it was so cold Jenn and I had to take turns filling the bottles because our fingers would go numb.
We had 15 miles still infront of us. Our carrot was a cache we'd heard about on Onyx Summit in Big Bear. Once we were free from that middle of the mountain blandness and into the pines we were flying. We knocked off 10 more miles with ease and then starting hearing traffic on Highway 18 below. We approached a fire road. To our left was a small cache. An empty box of soda and a sun baked bottle of water left graciously by papa smurf. Not quite the carrot we had hoped for but it got us here and that's all that mattered. A bit bummed we continued on. I was craving a Dr. Pepper. We walked uphill for 2 miles and we'd had enough. We were 22 for the day and our eyes began to scan the bushes for flat spots to set camp. Dazed, I came around a corner and saw what looked like a dumpster. It seemed an odd place for a dumpster. On the front of the dumpster was spray painted: PCT MAGIC. Next to the dumpster was a couch. I opened the dumpster and magic was in side. 5 racks of soda, cookies, fruit, baby wipes. I grabbed a Dr. Pepper, sat on the couch and genuinely believed life couldn't get any better. 5 minutes later Paul walked up. It was his turn to restock the cache. He told us this was courtesy of the Big Bear Adventure Hostel.
Day 14 Arraste Camp to Big Bear Adventure Hostel
We'd left ourselves only 10 miles to hike. We needed a break and with a quickly approaching snow storm, a zero day in Big Bear sounded perfect. We hiked the 10 miles and popped out in a turnout on Highway 18. We were on a blind curve and I worried it'd be hard to hitch, but Jenn's shorts came through again! A nice couple on their way to Vegas swooped us up, listened to our stories, told their own, took us to the post office and then to the hostel but not before making us promise we'd send them a postcard from Canada. We arrived at the hostel around 11. Sarge checked us in, told us the rules, offered us edibles and then showed us our room. We skipped the shower and went straight for a late breakfast and coffee. We spent the rest of the day in our laundry clothes watching other hikers getting in before the storm. That night we went out for Mexican food and margaritas to celebrate how far we'd come. I had 8 beers before that though so I couldn't eat much. The cold air sobered us up and we returned to the hostel to watch top gun with a bunch of strangers.










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