Day 12 Friday 4/27 7:45PM Mile 183

Here's what y'all missed in me not writing for two days.  A lot.  Things have been difficult.

Back to Wednesday - A really nice, almost leisurely hiking day.  Spent most of it with Yotam and Nadav and we were cracking jokes, and generally and me were cracking jokes, and generally in very good moods.  I left them just south of Highway 74because they are planning on going to kickoff and I am not.  The kickoff is a big hiker party back at Lake Morena(Mile 21) that officially starts the hiking season.  I went last year, and it was fun, but don't really feel like going again.  I walked the last 5 miles to the HW alone, and was very happy to find a couple of 2011 thru-hikers set up at the road waiting with soda pop, cookies, and fresh apples (all stuff I regularly crave).  They were from Portland(!) and had come down for the kickoff, but were doing some trail magic along the way.  They let me use their phone so I could make some arrangements for a rest day.  I'm taking this weekend to meet up with out family friend Dan.  Anyway, that was really an unexpected treat, and fueled me over the highway.  to a nice looking campsite about 1/2 a mile in.  I knew that there was a good chance of rain, so I set up my tarp before cooking dinner even though it was already quite late.  The rain came around 10 and as pretty steady all night.  I slept okay.  I'm really not too proficient at setting up my tarp yet.  I dug my little trenches around the outside to keep the rain away, but things still got damp.  It was still raining at 6 so I didn't really get walking until close to 7.  It was a very different day than I've had so far on the trail.  It was cold and damp and empty.  Pretty much everyone I have been hiking with is either headed for the kickoff, or waiting out the bad weather in Idyllwild.  I was also a little lonely because the first few miles of trail I hiked yesterday morning is a section I hiking with my dad last year, and I was missing him desperately.  I only ate breakfast after about 8 miles because it was so chilly I didn't want to stop walking.  A Norwegian  guy named Knut was the only other person on the trail, and he passed me at breakfast.  We commenting on how it looked like the sky might be clearing up, and he continued hiking.  I passed him on his break about an hour or so later and we commented on how actually it wasn't clearing up, and that it seemed we really were the only people on that bit of trail that day.  There were no footprints in the  mud.  I started a steep, solitary climb into a mist and wind that thickened and grew with every step.  I climbed and climbed going deeper into a swirling white cloud as the wind howled around me, nearly buffeting me off the trail several times.  It was an eerie dream world where I could never see what lay ahead, and strange forms materialized from dead, burned trees through the tangibly thick fog.  There were respites from the violent, roaring wind as the trail dipped to lower elevations, but it seemed as if the whole mountain was draped in this pearly cloud-shawl.  I was chilly, and damp, and a little spooked.  Knut caught up with me as I was traipsing through a clearing of tall, wet grass.  He broke up a piece of chocolate for us to share, and produced an extra pair of gloves for me to borrow.  We were planning on camping in the same place, Apache Springs, and we both were hoping it would be some what sheltered.  With Knut hiking ahead of me I was alone in the mist again.  It was hard to walk with the wind pushing at me, and my feet were very wet and cold.  I came to a trail junction and Knut had drawn an arrow pointing the way to the spring.  The trail disappeared into a labyrinth of 6ft high madrone bushes with the mist snaking through it, thick as paste.  I seriously felt like a lost character in a children's book walled in on all sides not knowing where I was going to end up.  The trail broke through onto an exposed jut of cliff completely enveloped in wooly, whirling white, with the wind racing it, teasing us in it's refusal to choose a direction.  There was nothing else for it, and Knut and I began our numb-fingered assembly of a camp.  It was impossible.  The wind kept snatching my tarpright out of my stiff, raw hands, and the crumbling, loose earth wouldn't hold my stakes even when I struggled with heavy rocks to weigh them down.  Knut got his tent up, and came to help me with mine, even loaning me one of his extra tent pegs when the the wind finally won one.  In a too generous solution that I could not refuse, Knut suggested I squeeze in with him, thus ending our battle with my tarp.  A hot meal was also unattainable in those conditions.  I tried to light my stove, but was stubbornly refused.  A packet of tuna and a peanut butter chewy bar made an awkward union in my stomach, but gave me the energy to address finding a sleeping space in a decidedly one-man tent.  Luckily, though he is tall, Knut is very thin, and I can fit pretty much anywhere, and once we were all zipped up with our heads at each other's feet it was definitly cozy rather than uncomfortable.  After some easy conversation where I learned about Knut's work with the peace corp over in Kenya during the 80s and that he has a younger brother with a daughter my age, it was time for sleeping.  We had said our goodnights and settled into our corners, when Knut had to go and ask if I snore!  I couldn't lie, and he seemed genuinly worried at my emphatic "YES!".

when we both started stirring around 6am it was to find that the wind had died sometime in the night, and a clear morning with an exceptional view was there to greet us.  Far, far below was the city of palm springs nestled amongst the San Jacinto mountains.  I think Knut and I both needed a slower start than usual, and it wasn't until close to 8 that I was making my way back to the trail leaving Knut to finish packing.  It was a much clearer, warmer day, but the elevation was climbing and with the recent rain I was wary of reaching snow.  Sure enough, later in the afternoon, as Knut caught up to me, snow began to obscure the trail.  Two southbound hikers we had met lower down the trail had made the first prints, but they had warned us that it had been confusing, and before long Knut and I had lost the trail.  The snow was deep, and as it was late afternoon the sun had melted the crusty surface, so I was breaking through, or postholing, often, sometimes up to my thighs.  It was slow, tedious going, trudging through the new snow with maps and compasses out, trying to find the trail.  Despite it taking much longer than it should have and my feet being cold and wet again, it was an exciting feeling of accomplishment when we finally found the trail.  Knut was heading into Iydllwild from a trail junction we reached very quickly after refinding the trail.  I had plans to hike a bit further, as I've chosen to resupply in Cabazon.  It was sad to say goodbye to Knut after going through so much together, and I'm worried I won't see him again.  I have to plan a trip to Norway.  I hit quite a bit more snow in the 4 more miles I hiked to my campsite this evening, but managed to stay on the trail.  It's a really beautiful spot, and I'm sad not to have my camera functioning.  I'm on a south west facing cliff side with a brilliantly bright sunset filtering through the pine trees.  I ate my supper, brushed my teeth, and have even managed to set up my tarp.

The view from theis campsite is worth all the trouble of the past few days.  Which has really all just been part of the adventure.  When I got to this campsite I set down my pack and took off my shoes and padded over the pine needles to sit on a rock and look at the valley.  I'm happy.  Even though it's killing me to stay awake right now and get this thing up to date, and I just cut my finger pretty badly trying to sharpen my pencil.  The way I'm doing this blog thing is keeping a written journal out here, and when I get to a town I'm sending the pages back to my friend Jacob who is typing them up and putting it on the blog.  And I'm really being a pain about it on my end of things because my pens keep dying so I'm writing in pencil which makes my already abysmal handwriting that much sloppier and smearier.  Plus I've just gone and bled all over this thing.**Jacob note OH MY GOD THAT WAS BLOOD. GROSSSSS** and there is about a million dead bugs squashed between the pages.  So thank you very much Jacob, I, and whoever is reading this sutff very much appreciates it.  Tomorrow is going to be my last hard day before I reach Cabazon on Sunday.  I'm excited to see Dan, and get a bit of a relax day.  One last thing - HAPPY BIRTHDAY TRAV!! thought about you a lot today!  I love you and we can go to the bar next time I see you !! <3

-Georgia