We decide to take a “zero” day, like we did in Julian. A zero is when you do no PCT hiking. We have a lot to do in Idyllwild, and we don’t want to rush. I mean the whole point of a zero day, is to rest.
Chores
Today is chore day. I have to replan the hike, buy groceries for the next segment and for a food box that I must send to myself at Hikertown, up the trail. I have to publish five blog posts. And I must wash my clothes.
Keith needs new hiking equipment, new inserts for his shoes and food for the next segment. He needs to send some stuff home and wash his clothes.
If we can do all that and find time to relax, we will have done good.
Idyllwild
In California, quirky is cool. Idyllwild tries to be cool. It’s not incorporated so it pokes fun at government by having a dog as it’s mayor. We saw the mayor in the town square as we arrived yesterday, but today Keith meets the mayor in person.
On the left is Max, the mayor. On the right is his sister, Mitsy. She is the chief of staff. As you might guess, Max loves to have his picture taken. Mitsy would prefer to stay in the shadows (answering emails I presume).
Keith has been craving hot dogs on the trail, so we are tickled when we find a hot dog food truck, Dick’s Dogs.
The menu is tricky because they call their hot dogs Dicks. I am not that hungry so I go for the Average Dick. Then I see you can make your Average Dick a Big Dick for just $2. Without really thinking, I ask the smiling young lady at the window, “What is the difference between an Average Dick and a Big Dick.” Without batting an eye she says, “About two inches.” She keeps smiling. “Of course,” I mumble, looking away as I try to think of a way to make this less painful. There is no way around it. “In that case, make mine a Big Dick,” I say. I pass on the extra Dick sauce.
A New Plan
Keith and I have decided to skip the tricky snowy miles on the north side of San Jacinto. Based on our experience coming up the south side, we feel like it will take too long to go down, unreasonably extending our time to reach the next town. We are not equipped to carry six days of food. By skipping, we only need to carry four.
The result of this decision is a skip of 30 trail miles. It’s not what I like to do, but it seems prudent. Keith finds a driver who will take us to the closest possible next entry point for the PCT – the place where the trail goes under Interstate 10.
To the Interstate
Out driver is Les. He is immediately chatty. Keith puts me in the front seat with him. I can chat with the best of them, so I take on the challenge. Les keeps claiming to be more careful that the other drivers careening down the narrow winding mountain road. I see no evidence of this. Searching for a distraction, I get more talkative. I ask if I can take Les’s picture. Bad move. He takes his eyes off the road and gives me his best smile. “Don’t take your eyes off the road!” I holler. He turns his head quickly back to the road. Then he tilts his head back and let’s out a cackle that would make Pee Wee Herman proud.
We survive the trip. The trail goes under I-10.
There is some trail magic below and some signs in case you are confused.
It’s a desert
From the interstate, the trail climbs 1900 feet through can only be called a desert.
Our goal is to reach the place where the trail comes near the Whitewater River – about 9 miles away. Water and camping are there. And since it is now 1 o’clock, the timing should be right, too.
On our way we pass a construction site, where the local power company is building wind turbines on the hills. We heard that we might be able to get a cold drink there. It is Saturday, and we don’t see anyone there when we arrive.
Just then a guy pops out of the bushes and approaches us. He is the site biologist, and he invites us in for a sofa. I drink a bottle of water, a LaCroix and a Squirt. We spend too much time there, so now we are behind schedule.
The hiking is pretty normal the rest of the way to camp. But the desert is fine. These are some of my favorite pictures.
Whitewater River
The Whitewater River carves a wide wash in the desert floor. You can see it below.
We find a nice campsite by the river. The camp is thick with frog sound. Here is one of the singers.
And here we are at the end of the day.
- May 20, 2023
- Starting marker: 209
- Ending marker: 218.5
- Miles hiked today: 9.5
- Total PCT miles: 189
- If the mayor was a golden retriever, what kind of dog would be the chief of police? The director of communications?
Great desert pictures! Paul said that was a “ruff” community.