Day 13, WhiteWater Oasis

Part 1, The Desert, Day 13

WhiteWater Oasis

Miles: 16.65

PCT Mile: 226.15

It's funny how the desert keeps surprising me over and over. 

Last night at Ziggy and the Bear's trail house, there was probably around 15-20 hikers. If you're wondering how the PCT social scene is, it's a lot like high school. Cliques, rumors, gossip, etc. Not all of it but most of it. As soon as hiker midnight (9:30 pm) rolled around and everyone packed onto the carpet like sardines in a can to sleep, I was out of there. Doing the social thing tires me out more than hiking, so I slept in the desert, and I slept pretty good. I woke up early to beat the heat and started hiking at 5:30 am.

The desert is so beautiful before the sun rises and the air is nice and cool, I plan on making this a habit. Plus I'm all alone out there, which is how I like it. I hiked uphill towards San Gorgonio Pass, passing a wind farm with dozens of massive turbines.

After the tough ascent, I went down into a beautiful mountain canyon that brought me into the San Gorgonio Wilderness. 

The miles were flying by this morning, mostly because I knew the heat was coming in force today and I wanted to hike in the shade for as long as possible, and also because I was really hungry, but wanted to get about 8-9 miles in before I stopped. I've gotta change that last plan though because I'm losing energy in the morning when I don't eat. 

Around 8am, I approached a massive valley that looked as if it once housed a mighty river. I checked my maps and saw that it is the Whitewater River. I was excited to know this because I'd heard of a place called the Whitewater Preserve that is near here and is hiker-friendly. My plan was to go there, find shade, eat breakfast and get water. I slowly descended into the valley right as my feet began to scream and the sun began to beat down.

It was only a half mile away, so I started to limp across the sandy valley floor and I came upon something VERY unexpected.

It was by far the most running water I'd seen in Southern CA thus far. I put my hand in it just make sure it was real. 

I continued on, eager to see what the preserve held, and saw a few day hikers along the way. I smelled their perfumes,or whatever, from very far away, and I'm sure they could smell me from far away too; funny how that works. I could see green and trees in the distance, and even a palm tree, all under the shade of an enormous canyon wall. 

When I walked into the preserve, it looked like paradise; water, green, shade all over. I was speechless. 

There were even rocks around with quotes from some of my favorite literary homeboys. It was almost suspiciously awesome..Had I been huffing paint thinner again?

I went into the ranger station and the ranger told me this used to be a trout farm, but was now a place for tourists to walk around and have picnics, or whatever. He said I could do whatever I wanted, camp, get water, etc. There were even bathrooms. Flush toilets, people! I set up shop at a picnic table and went to work. I made this blog's favorite breakfast again, oatmeal in a bag. It will haunt your dreams and crush your soul.

While I was sitting there, A Belgian couple who are hiking the trail, MorningStar and  Cookie Monster, showed up and we talked for about a half hour. They convinced me to stay for a few hours and wait out the heat, so I decided to, though I left them right as they were trying to give me a trail name; I'm trying to avoid that as long as possible. I went to the wading pool and soaked my feet in there. 

It felt soooo good, and I got really sleepy. I had my feet in there for an hour, talking to a group of elderly ladies who were bird watching. They wanted to know why anyone would want to walk to Canada. Settle down ladies, Isn't "Murder She Wrote" on? 

I reluctantly pulled my feet out of the cold water and found a big sycamore to lay under and read. It was so great, just what I needed. 

When I got here, I was the only hiker here, but about an hour after lying down, I got up and there were hikers all over. Wandering Big Horn's parents gave me a cold Guinness, which was awesome, and  there was a bunch of hikers I knew in the wading pool. 

It was 2pm, right in the heat of the day I was anxious to get back to work on the trail, so I started to leave. Some of the hikers in the pool asked why in the hell I'd want to go out, alone, into the desert with the sun up and temps at 95+? I was tempted to stay but left to seek punishment in the desert. I set out in the heat.

The heat was no joke; the hottest I'd experienced yet, but I was in a groove and hiking fast and efficiently. It helped that this desert was very beautiful. I planned to go 9 miles to Mission Creek and camp near a small stream. I pushed up into the hills, covered in dirt and sweat.

I saw this guy resting on a PCT sign. Pic of the day!

I think he likes me. At this point I was tired but became a man on a mission. I put my headphones in and laid waste to the trail. I'd been hiking uphill all day and I was finally on the ridge crest and could see far in each direction. The PCT is amazing in that you are usually so high up that you can see where you came from many days ago and also where you are going in the distance. It's epic.

I finally, after a long hot day, descended into Mission Canyon. I have no cell service, so, sorry readers for the delayed post. I filtered some water and set up my tent, though the moon is out, which is annoying to sleep with out here. I made ramen, deal with it. I'm almost out of food.

I'm in the wilderness, and I found an area behind my tent with an old propane cannister, a bag of what looks like maneur, and a bottle of oil. Can anyone guess what went on here? 

Let's hope I pass right out tonight. G'Night!!!!