San Jacinto Wilderness to I-10 Underpass

Day 19

We did a short but intense 11 mile day with an overall descent of over 2000 ft but plenty of big ups and downs along the way.  My knees and ankles are stiff and creaky and my toes are taking a beating on these descents.  But the views!  And the trail itself!  Just endlessly beautiful. 

I feel like the folks that plan and manage these trails must be very interesting people.  The beauty in the carved stone steps and the piled rock reinforcing the switchbacks…all the detail and the function and esthetic value. 

And the fact that simultaneously the mountain itself is ravaged by the seasons -massive gnarled pines, hundreds of years old, are shattered and splintered against boulders larger than cars – boulders larger than cars are split and strewn down the mountain face too. 

Picking out the remnants of the trail in the confetti of destruction I imagine the sound all of this must have made as the breeze rustles pine needles and birds call in the distance. 

I wonder about the people who not only assign order to the stubborn chaos of nature’s whims but they make it soo pretty.  This whole damn trail is just sooo pretty.  Major props to all the folks I know who do trail work.  Thank you from the bottom of my heart, truly.

The San Jacinto snow melt streams and springs provided the most clear and delicious and cold water, I’m a little heartbroken already to return to the desert algea blooms and sun baked bottled water.

A few miles of trail were  snow packed and a couple streams swollen with snow melt required crossing. I got to skip a chunk of snowy switch backs glissading down on my butt – glissading is my new favorite thing.

The trail was difficult to pick out in the snow. I was relieved to have a way to navigate and stay close to the trail with GPS and intensely grateful for micro spikes and water proof socks on this stretch.

Eventually the snow cleared and the taller pines started to become more sparse.

I caught up to Caiti and Ruth and we hiked on together to find a good camp site, made dinner and tucked in for the night.

Caiti thinks I’m gross but I made a backpacker dreamboat with smoked oysters, ranch and Dubliner.  I call it an Avocado Cruise Liner.

Day 20

A sixteen mile day with 4,000 ft of descent into the desert. 

Highlights included:

hitting the 200 mile marker (there were no less than 4 of them..???)

the most perfect noon shade under a big boulder by a stream

and lots of freaky plants

and little caves. 

I hauled ass down the mountain singing along to Christian Mistress like a dang weirdo and felt amazing all day.  This is probably when I started having foot problems but the stress was so mild it never really registered and just slowly built up over the next few days.

The trail led from the mountain pines and wound through sandstone and rippled rock formations framed by new and now familiar plants.  If anyone can tell me about this freaky prickly egg and the dinosaur morning glory babe, I’d love to know their names.

After noodling back and forth across the fingers of the mountain for hours the trail flattened out onto the desert floor.

I explained my quick pace this day to another hiker this way: “honestly once I’m moving downhill it’s just all of my limbs keeping the weight of my pack from hitting the ground by whatever means necessary.”

Once on the desert floor I realized that the miles of level trail i was looking forward to on the map were actually across trail that had been swept away by swollen river and replaced with loose shifting sand. 

The hardest part of the day was the last few miles. 

At the I-10 underpass I collapsed in the shade and tended to my feet.  I found a note from Ruth (Antsy) and Caiti (Grown) who had gone into town. 

A 2018 hiker who’s name I didn’t catch came through to trail angel some cold beers to us tired hikers. 

Caiti and Ruth hiked on when they returned while I drained some blisters and utilized a marshmallow roller someone brought as a luxury item. 

I caught up to them a couple miles along the trail after night fall to avoid the traffic and train noise of the underpasses and slept well despite the glow and noise of nearby towns and neighborhoods.