Start point

Faucet at 205.7

End point

Whitewater Preserve, mile 218.5 and 0.6 miles off trail

Miles hiked

12.8 on trail, 0.6 off

Wilderness area

Sand to Snow National Monument

People I met

Janna

Luca

The day on trail

It’s a hot one, boys.

I’ve been sleeping with the rain fly off more and more. The warmer weather is just perfect for falling asleep under the stars but with a little more protection than just cowboy camping.

My morning started off with my tummy feeling a little settled and less gurgly. It’s still off, but I think it’s heading to a positive resolution. My morning also started off with a bit of a scare. While, let’s say “filling my cat hole” my wallet fell out of my pocket. I’m really glad I discovered it was missing before breaking camp. I just retraced my steps to the area I used and it was right there.

Crisis averted.

The morning was stunning, though. The alpenglow of the mountains looked over the valley as the moon lazily hung over the mountains.

I got moving and walked down the access road to the faucet, owned by a local irrigation company. I can’t remember which one it is. The access road leads to a residential street with a house that is obviously a fan of both the PCT and Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland.

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After leaving the residential area, I was immediately surrounded by one of my favorite plants, creosote. I rustled some of their leaves and branches to inhale their desert scented aroma and they left my hands sticky with sap. They’re absolutely swollen with all of this year’s moisture. Between the creosote and all the other wildflowers, it’s so amazingly vibrant out here.

Further down the meadow you could hear power lines crackling.

From there it was a walk across the San Gorgonio River which, if you’re from the area, you know is just a dry wash with occasional hints of mud revealing the hidden watershed. Across the San Gorgonio is I-10 and a major train route. Between the tidal pulse of traffic and the thumping gallop and piercing whistle of the train, Sera, Josh, and I had a conversation about the trash in the wash, life, and romanticized about jumping the train to escape domesticated life.

Soon we got to I-10. Josh and Sera went to Cabazon for a resupply and I continued on. There was a water cache and some snacks under the freeway, so I ate a little, drank a couple liters, and signed the trail register. it was really cool to see who I know had been there!

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While I was under the road, a sheriff drove by and asked who restocked it and how often. Since I don’t know the legality of any of it, and honestly don’t have accurate answers to them, I just said “I don’t know. I’m just a hiker.” He seemed disappointed, though satisfied with my answer, and drove off.

Alpha and Laila were taking a break just past I-10, hiding in the shade of a bush extended with Laila’s sun umbrella. They chose that spot to get away from the noise of the traffic.

On I went, because I already had a break, and it wasn’t long until I saw my first rattler of the trail!

He didn’t want any trouble and kind of just went away as I took photos of him. But they have such a threatening aura. They’re basically flesh noodles of violence. It oozes off them, even though they just want to be left alone to do their snake things.

After this gate, everything changed.

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Today was hard, to be honest. It was miles of climbing in heat, with sun beating down on me. My water got hot and, eventually, ran out. I drank a liter of water and a liter of electrolyte mix. I emptied a third liter I carried into my bottle and drank that.

I was dripping sweat in the sun as I climbed up to this saddle.

It was a brutal climb. And I started having some self doubt. I looked at my three choices, and it’s usually the same three.

• Turn around

• Go forward

• Hit the SOS

To be frank, the first and the last choice weren’t options. I had the strength, I was just hot. So I went forward. And up. And forward. And up.

It’s hard to appreciate beauty when you’re exhausted. I’ve found that when I’m present in what I’m feeling it’s easier to incorporate new data and appreciate what’s around me. Which was this.

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That was the main climb, so it should get easier!

This gate lead the way.

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It was a way across, but there was a sweet little itty bitty creek I was able to refill my water at! I drank a liter and packed two out. It was so refreshing. I also added an electrolyte tablet to my smaller bottle.

When I say the creek was sweet, it was. Vegetation lends a sweet flavor to lots of the snowmelt. The water often has a yellowish or brownish tinge from tannins, even after filtering.

I continued and it was a lot easier. Minstrel — you got this.

The views were just…ugh.

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I met a bunch of day hikers coming in from Whitewater Preserve. It’s always fun to see freshies. You can smell the soap on them!

Soon I got to look over the Whitewater River.

Much of it was dry, but there’s some absolutely raging water in it. It was rough to cross.

I forded the river. Indeed, it was dangerous. The water came up to my thighs and was strong.

Just before I got there, some kids had fallen into the river. Em, Shark, and Half Pint basically rescued them. Em, with her wilderness first responder (WFR), checked the kids over. One had banged up his ankle a bit. The parents of the kids were so rude to Half Pint, Shark, and Em. It was absurd how dismissive people can be to those who are literally saving the lives of their loved ones.

I took a great dip in a clear, gentle part of the river and rinsed the salt and anxieties of the day off me. The cold water flowed under, over, and around me. I rinsed my hiking kilt and my shirt and cooled off.

Then it was a sandy, rocky walk to the Preserve. I sat down with Em, Shark, and Half Pint until Alpha and Layla (formerly Laila, I spelled it wrong) got there.

Alpha and Layla arrived with a group: Primo, Luca, and Janna. We stayed up too late, despite being tired, and many of us cowboy camped on the grass.

The night was filled with stars shimmering, bats fluttering around to feed, and echoes from big horn sheep ramming their horns.