Day 22

May 24,2013
24 miles today
444 miles total

The tooth as a good luck charm was a bust. After all, it did get yanked out by a Mike and Ike, which in anybody’s book is a bad luck event. No idea why I thought its future luck would be better. Rubbed it last night for no dew. Cowboy camped when everyone else put up their tent. Woke up this morning cold. The cracking sound was alarming as I broke the sheet of ice that covered me. I think the tooth needs to go home.

Gladly climbed away from the saddle through burnt acreage. Orbit, who had suffered from the bite of the poodle in 2011, described its horrors in such a way that we ended up detouring around multiple sections of the PCT. A road, with very limited access, paralleled the trail so I stayed on that. While walking along that a security truck pulled up. The driver asked where I was coming from. I answered, “Mexico.” His partner in the passenger seat screamed, “Jesus!” The driver then asked where I was going. I answered, “Canada.” The partner screamed, “Oh, Jesus!” Maybe I made their day. They certainly made mine.

As I walked, I got to thinking about Red Beard and Orbit. Both had taken a shot at the PCT in 2001, a particularly bad snow year. Red Beard made it 1900 miles before shin splints took him out. Orbit made it 1000 miles before her money ran out. It’s a testament to their character that instead of entering this year at the point they left off at in 2011, they started once again from the beginning.

The detour continued through the Station Fire of 2009 that destroyed 160,000 acres of forest and took the lives of two firefighters. I paid my respect at their memorial and then came upon the ruins of the LA Country Firefighting Training Center. The compound was extensive and its destruction complete. I’ll let the photos tell the rest of the story.

Finally rejoined the flow of the PCT, after too many miles of road walking, for a long descent into the Acton Valley. My knee was still bothering me, so I decided to loosen it up by running to the KOA Campground some six miles away. I was low on supplies so my pack was light and not much of a hindrance. Off I went. The exhilaration of bombing downhill for miles on a mountain path can’t be matched. Music thumping, twisting and turning down switchbacks, allows one to grab freedom that is mostly elusive.

Slack had the same idea. We raced to the end, where we skidded to a stop at the camper of a natural hiker. A famous 2006 PCT thru hiker who prefers to hike without clothes. Just returned from six year of missionary work in Peru, he celebrated his 65th birthday by serving us root beer floats in a transparent mini skirt.

Can this trail get any better?

Steve Halteman
On the Pacific Crest Trail
Hiking the PCT for the Kids of Escuela Verde

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May 21, 2013
Mile 370
22 miles today

Awoke to pressure. Orbit has been exploring her competitive side. Initially a sweet natured but very strong hiker, she has evolved into a cutthroat competitor. The presence of any hiker, any where in front of her, lights a fire that can only be quenched by passage. Once she is well in front, of the fallen hiker, la bliss sets in and the umbrella unfurls signifying yet another successful pursuit and take down. It is then, and only then, that she returns to her calm, enigmatic Mary Poppins demeanor. Recently she asked me about running marathons. God help the Kenyans.

Thus the pressure. A group of five unknowing hikers was four miles ahead. The chase was on, but being late out of camp, I missed the blood on the trail. Climbed and climbed some more, alone to my thoughts. By afternoon 6,000 ft had been gained, the curves of the 15 Freeway but a snake on the horizon. Finally the trail crested, but decided to follow the curve of a ski resort rather then proceed directly to the goal, the goal being the town of Wrightwood and resupply.

Eventually, after a couple of hours spent exploring various ski lift combinations, we arrived at a highway where it was possible to hitch into Wrightwood. Out of water, thirsty, but saved by a trail angel who left tangerines on a rock, we waited for a ride. Soon, a gentleman pulled over, his story learned during the eight miles into town.

He joined the Air Force in 1943 and flew fighter planes during WWII and Korea. During WWII he was with the Ninth Air Force in Europe. Specifically, he flew the Republic P47 Thunderbolt. Engaging in multiple dogfights, he shot down one Messerschmidt Bf 109 (me 109) and two Focke-Wulf fighter planes.

During the Battle of the Bulge, he was shot down by German antiaircraft fire. Behind enemy lines during winter, he made his way into the encircled town of Bastogne, which was then held by the American 101st Airborne. His quote, “Son, you’d be surprised at what you will do to survive.” He is 93 years old and still look like he would be just fine in a cockpit.

Wrightwood was pizza and beer with the London Marathon on the tube followed by a restock in the supermarket. While sitting outside, a gentleman approached and asked if we needed a roof. That is how we ended up at Jeff’s, a model example of a Christian gentleman. In all, seven hikers shared his loft. We wandered through his house sharing his hospitality, hanging out with his kids, using his kitchen, laundry and bathroom. Great conversations and better than average pingpong were also on the agenda. Even his dogs warmed up to all the new smells. Such human kindness. Though the competitive snoring did force me into the basement where I found refuge under the ping-pong table. Jeff is two weeks away from retiring from a 30-year teaching gig. I hope every moment of that retirement is as good to him as he was to us.

Steve Halteman
On the Pacific Crest Trail
Hiking the PCT for the Kids of Escuela Verde

If you’d like to help out and donate, please click here!