Day 20, Leg on Fire

Part 1, The Desert, Day 20

Leg On Fire

Miles: 14.5

PCT Mile: 342

Last night as I was typing up my blog post in my tent, I felt my calf tighten up and, while it did suck, I didn't think much of it. I think very much of it now...

I had another weird sleep night at the Silverwood Lake Picnic area. (Thanks a lot Moon.) I woke up at 5am and tried to get moving so I could make it to Cajon Pass 14 miles away before Noon. It was cold and foggy this morning. Great for pictures. 

I spent the morning crossing freeways and climbing up and over small mountain passes. At about 6:30 am, at a highway intersection, an older lady in a pickup truck pulled up and looked at me until things got awkward and I waved. She asked if I needed anything, water, shelter, and I smiled and said "no thank you." She asked how long I've been homeless... I laughed and told her I'm hiking. It's an ongoing joke on the PCT. "What's the difference between a homeless person and a thru hiker?" "Gortex."-----I've found though, that as a solo hiker, people tend to offer help more than if I were in some group.

The trail started out beautiful, and I felt tired and worn, but generally ok. 

I keep seeing these awesome yellow blossoms and I don't know what they are. Does anyone know?

Early in the morning, a heavy wind began to stir, which is both nice and annoying, but I'll take it over heat stroke most days. Below is the valley and lake I just came from about an hour earlier. 

Everything changed when I started to descend into the next valley. My right leg suddenly tightened up and my Achilles tendon was on fire. Every step sent a shooting pain up my leg, and I audibly winced with each step. I've been dealing with pain every day, so I figured I'd just hike it off, plus I'd set something of a deadline for myself. So on I went. The valley became more arid and redundant the lower I got. I put in my headphones to distract myself. 

At about 9am, I was very worried about my leg for several reasons. The pain was something I can hike through, but my Achilles area was so tender and hot that I worried about seriously injuring it. I was limping at this point, which affected my entire gait, and as a result, my left foot and ankle were in pain from an increased role. I was square in the middle of nowhere too, so if I couldn't walk, it would be a long day for me. I stopped frequently to stretch my legs and ankles, and I slowed my pace down, something that I really didn't enjoy doing. Even though I slowed down, I'd gone 10 miles by 10am. I stopped under this giant electric tower and wondered what to do.

As the tower buzzed noisily, i wondered who would come here casually. It was inhospitable, and today it was cold and windy. I continued on, as there was only one thing I could do; move forward. 

To try and alleviate my feet and leg, I made the decision to dump 3 liters of water to lower my pack weight. I kept 1 liter since it was pretty chilly. The reduced weight helped for awhile. I came to a sheer cliff.

I made sure my shadow was in the pic so the drop off can be seen. It was creepy steep. I felt better pushing uphill, and when i crested the mountain, this insane view of the desert appeared. All I could hear was the sound of trains in the wind.

There were mountains covered in fog in the distance, and I15 with endless trucks far, far below. There were also trains that looked a mile long. It was desolate, lonely, and raucous all at the same time. I was in so much pain and I didn't really want to be there in the wind, so I started descending slowly.

The trail, as usual, was beautiful, despite the noise and wind. It was so high up with some much empty land far below that it had a certain magnificence.

The downhill was hurting me. My right Achilles felt ready to snap, and my left foot felt like it was losing toe nails and grating itself into nothing. I winced in pain with every step. At this point I wondered if I could continue today past Cajon Pass. I don't know why I was so adamant on pushing on, I'm free to do whatever the hell I want out here, that's the beauty of thru-hiking, but I was bull headed and naive. I took a picture of this, because that's how my leg felt.

That's right people. I felt like Horse Shit. 

Deep down, I was scared to not hike big miles, and even more scared that if I continued to push on, I might put my thru hike in jeopardy. The last one is my ultimate fear. I decided to rest for a few hours at McDonald's at Cajon pass and see how my leg felt. I knew there was a hotel on the Interstate of I needed rest. The last 2 miles to the highway were absolute hell. Every step was a battle that I was not winning. It was very hard.

After verbally abusing the world out loud, I saw the freeway. I laughed at this sign, telling me I have work to do:

I laughed again at this sign. I've never seen a trail sign with this on it:

The half mile walk to Mickey D's on pavement was a fitting end to my torture. There was trash everywhere.

Here's a pile of tires. I laughed at the tire in the tree:

I've never been more relieved to arrive at a McDonald's . I went inside and immediately sat down, unconcerned with ordering food, even though I'd eaten nothing all day. I sat for 15 minutes while I pulled myself together, washed my hands and ordered some nuggets and fries. They made me feel sorta sick. 

A hiker came and sat across from me and introduced himself as Mr. Furious. He was the filthiest man I had ever encountered, and I couldn't tell if he was 25 or 65. He simply fascinated me with wonder. I offered him my chicken nuggets as an offering, hoping he'd go away soon; and yet, I felt the urge to draw him. I MUST DRAW THIS MAN! Other hikers came in and I talked to most of them and almost every hiker was staying at the Best Western 1 mile away to prepare for the 25 mile exposed water-less stretch leaving Cajon Pass. I stubbornly still considered hiking out with 6 liters of water in the afternoon. My dad called and told me that I'm not in a race and to take care of my body. I finally decided to stay at the hotel for a measly 55 bucks and rest. Why wasn't this an easier decision for me? I'm my own worst enemy most of the time out here. I walked up the noisy, trash filled freeway and crossed it, hoping the wind didn't blow me into the freeway.

I finally made it and I was so relieved.

I was happy to see about a dozen hikers in the lobby, all of them good people who I've been hiking around. They invited me to Del Taco, the only food place near the hotel and freeway, but I went to my room and took a shower and washed my gear in the sink. I turned off the lights and slept with my legs elevated for 2 hours. I'm gonna do my laundry in the one machine here as soon as I get a chance. There are many hikers here lining up for laundry. I went to the Del Taco/76/Circle K store and bought my dinner:

I think I did ok here! So tonight I'll soak my feet in the tub here and relax HARD.  So things worked out. Tomorrow, no matter what, I hike into the 25 miles of exposed, waterless hills toward Wrightwood where I'll resupply. This time, and from now on, I'm going to stretch and hike a bit easier. It's not a race, and I have a long way to go.