Sunday, March 9th, 2025, 0800-1810
South Sheep Hole Mtns to Pinto Mountains Wilderness mm 63.5, Section 8, elevation 2580′.
22 miles.
It was warm overnight and I woke to the amazing scent of the nearby blooming creosote and vines. The desert holds so many surprises! I set out across another valley, aiming for my water cache at HWY 62. It was a cross country stretch of 4 miles, but easy to take a line-of-sight off the distant hills. I used the ‘Sight and Go’ feature on my Garmin watch and it worked great. The skill simply involves following a compass bearing, something I did every day when I worked on ships. But it’s even easier with mountains to aim for and nothing but small sand dunes in front of you. I rolled over them just as my ship did over the waves in the ocean. Sand dunes are basically waves of sand, after all.
Sounds easy, but once again I was plagued by ROUS’s. They were trying to trap me in their underground burrows, pulling my feet down with almost every step. I was postholing like crazy and worried I might twist or break an ankle. The notes claimed they weren’t as bad as the lava dunes, but I found them to be much worse. Maybe I just got unlucky with a bad line. I still made good time and found my water cache at the highway, fortunately undisturbed.
This cache was actually courtesy of Nate. Weeks prior, he coordinated with me to leave half of his, as he didn’t need it all. But I still verified it was there when setting out my other caches. It can be difficult to find your own hole in the ground, let alone that made by another. There was 1 gallon, which I hoped would be enough to get me through the rest of the day and part of the next. I still had several liters left from the day before, too.
I took a second breakfast break next to the highway, hoping someone might stop to ask about my situation so I could offload all my trash on them. I’d collected a bunch of mylar balloons and also had 2 one gallon water jugs and the multiple water bottles that Nate had buried. I invented a new strategy for where to put the pieces of my cut-up water jugs: inside the mylar balloons! They were like ziploc bags and this way they got to be repurposed for a bit. The desert is full of them, so there’s a ready-made supply for all the future DWTH hikers. You’re welcome.
As luck would have it, just as I was shoving the last bits of plastic into a mylar balloon, a vehicle did stop. It was a California Highway Patrol state trooper. The officer was,d checking to see if I was ok and probably what the hell was I up to. And do you think I had any qualms about boldly asking him to take my trash? No, I did not. It’s called white woman privilege. I’m very aware of it and very much employ it at times. I’ve also had the privilege of never having a bad run-in with law enforcement. I know this sadly isn’t the case for a lot of folks, and I agree that’s a problem.
Whether it was my looks or also the nature of this particular trooper, the exchange was extremely friendly and positive. He seemed better suited for a job in customer relations or sales than law enforcement. I gave him a brief run down about my journey and he seemed genuinely intrigued by it. He said he’d also hiked some of the PCT, and enjoyed many outdoor pursuits. Cool! He was happy to take my trash and also offered me more water. I had to turn it down since I didn’t want to carry any more.
I followed a jeep road for many miles after, enjoying the easy going. A couple in a jeep passed me and of course offered me MORE water. Where was all this water when I needed it so bad in section 6? I took a lunch break in the shade of a boulder and carried on. It got pretty hot this day, the first time in a while. Then came along a truck and the passenger rolled down the window to ask if, you guessed it, I needed water? I was feeling a little sassy and bold, so I said, “no, but I’d take a beer if you had one!”
I loved the smile that came over the guy’s face. It was absolutely the right statement for the right guy. He didn’t say a word but got out, opened the tailgate and broke out 2 Sierra Nevadas…how appropriate. The driver, Anwar, was his teenage son, so not able to share in the fun. But John seemed quite happy to have a cold one with me. They were from Freso and John had amazing stories about working for a non profit in Palestine with his wife. They had adopted their son, who was Palestinian. This was all before the current war broke out and obviously brought to light how very lucky this kid was to have escaped the horrors of that place. I think of anyone who adopts a kid as a saint, but just think what a difference John and his wife made in this kid’s life. John now worked as a firefighter and also liked to hike sections of the PCT.
We had an amazing conversation in the short time over our beers, but also lamented about the current state of affairs in our own country. John was very like-minded and distraught about politics, especially about what was happening in Gaza. We mused about how travel throughout the world brought about so much understanding and appreciation for other cultures. And also how being on foot put me in a position of vulnerability but also led to some amazing experiences. Breaking (liquid) bread with others and being accepting of help, no matter who it came from, meant being open and grateful for people from all walks of life. I had been so starved for human interaction, this brief but meaningful conversation filled my soul. Thank you John, truly.
I was buoyed by the trail magic the rest of the afternoon. I hit some easy cross country stretches and followed more washes. I saw some owls fly from holes in one of the washes. I checked out one of the holes and sure enough, found some owl pellets (regurgitated remains of prey including bones and hair) beneath it. They were burrowing owls. I also found a really nice desert tortoise shell.
Much of the terrain was through ‘desert pavement’, my favorite type of surface. It was so easy to walk on, better than any street. What a day for cruising, especially given how hard half the day before was. This route had just the right amount of all types of fun.
I wound down the day by checking out a few guzzlers (both bone dry) and finding a nice spot in the wash for camp. I loved my wash camps so much. I couldn’t see the sunset unfortunately but was out of the wind, not that it was much. I would be in Joshua Tree NP by the next day, and so was very excited. In just a few more days, I could claim victory!