Day 23 04/08 Easter Sunday

We wanted to get started at first light today so as soon as I heard that "ZIIIIP" of Joes sleeping bag I snapped awake and started packing. My brain, still half asleep and lazy tempted me to lay back down and return to the good dreams I was having but I fought the temptation and got everything packed and good to go. Joe asks if I heard him scream last night. I thought I'd heard something, but wasn't sure if i'd been dreaming. I asked him what happened.
"I woke up in the middle of the night to something huge licking my face! I screamed and tried to swat it away but I was trapped in my sleeping bag.
Me, shocked: "What did you do?"
" Nothing. It ran off."
Joe had cowboy camped. (no tent) My first thought was a coyote. However his food bag was untouched.
"This was no little tongue- it licked me from forehead to chin in one swipe. Whatever it was, it was large enough to loom above me. It had a BIG tongue."
That got me really interested. What would come up and leave his food alone, but lick him?
I looked around camp for prints. Definitely no black bear, no coyote, no lion. And there it was. Coming into our camp off the trail and up to his bag, then back out were deer tracks.
What cracked me up is I almost cowboy camped but didn't at the last second. I thought we'd get a lot of bugs, being close to the bushes.
No bugs.
Just a lonely deer, getting fresh.
I bet Joe felt vulnerable trapped in his bag not able to fight off all that lovin'.
It probably just wanted the salt.
We spent the day descending from San Jacinto, towering above us in all it's grandeur the entire way. We were at 9000 ft the night before, and at the end of the day we'd be at 1000.
The trail wound down the desert side of the mountain, which was completely different from the other snowy and forested flank. The terrain went from icy snow and pine needles back to rocky and uneven ground that just LOVES to give you plenty of opportunity to twist your ankles. However I was happy to be heading downhill, after practically a week of going up. I had been hesitant about buying the trekking poles back in Idyllwild, but now they never left my hands. My knees were very grateful. Getting down to the desert floor meant 22 miles of pounding steps.
In places the trail was very faint and overgrown. We hit mile 200 and pushed our way through the brush which was often taller than me. (that's not saying much.) Which reminds me- how many types of thornbushes does the world need?
I don't want the answer.
For the first time in a week it was hot, hot, HOT! I'd forgotten what heat felt like being up at elevation for so long. I was glad I'd began the trip early, and didn't wait til it was over a hundred in the Anza Borrego desert like everyone leaving at the normal time will probably experience. I guess it's a trade off though. They won't have to deal with any snow.
Waiting at the bottom for us where the water got piped out from the mountains was a chatty security guard for the Desert Valley Water Authority (I think). He showed us satellite photos of where we were going and an awesome picture of a WAIST HIGH mountain lion that was captured by a nearby game camera.
When I got phone signal I found out it was Easter.
Who would have known? I forget what day it is all the time out here.
My parents who live an hour away surprised us and made the trip down to Cabazon to intercept us when we hit the I-10, the end of section B of the PCT. We got to the freeway and climbed up the side where they were waiting to take us to Sizzler.
Best Easter EVER. I ate like it was my last meal. It was nice to see my parents for the first time since the border. My mom kept staring at me while I ate like she was horrified. Either that or in awe. I didn't stop shoveling in the food to find out.
After clearing out the buffet for our nice Easter lunch my parents dropped us like rocks back into the desert.
I was a little sad to see them go.
They took my leftovers.
We made our way a couple more miles to Whitewater, where the trail angels Ziggy and the Bear live. They let PCT hikers cowboy camp in their backyard, and provide an oasis in the desert before you enter the San Bernardino's to make the long hot climb up to Big Bear.
I can't tell you enough how great they were. We met Bear on the trail near his house.
"NO HIKERS ON THE TRAIL!" he shouted.
Confused, Joe and I looked at each other and back to this weathered but tough old man.
"I SAID NO HIKERS ON THE TRAIL!!"
Just when I'm wondering how to explain to this guy that this is the PCT and there are ONLY hikers on this trail, he smiled and said, "I'm just messin' with ya. I'm the Bear. You must be looking for our house."
He took us home and fed us and he and his wife Ziggy treated us like kings. They poured us Epsom salt baths for our feet (TWICE!!) and even had a great breakfast for us in the morning! We offered to do work for them, but they wouldn't even let us dump the water! So we left a donation in a jar on their kitchen counter.
Staying at Ziggy and the Bear's made a great end to a great Easter. We stayed up late talking about anything and everything with Bear and their good friend Ron.
As I fall asleep that night underneath the stars ( no danger of romantic animals this time, they had this nifty thing called a fence) I couldn't help but feeling like I was at home visiting my grandparents. After all, they treated us like family.
I was sad to go. Apparently we'd missed the installation of a porta-poddy. By one day.
My bowels just can't catch a break.