Mile 209.5 to 231.5 Mission Creek

The stay at Hillbilly Dave’s turned out to be a great time. Good people, a spaghetti dinner, and shelter over our heads during the overnight rain. Unfortunately, people were watching Harry Potter on TV after the sun went down, but I got my ear plugs and pulled my buff over my eyes and was good to go.

We were sleeping like sardines on the dinning room floor Valdy, Burnout, me and Carla. In the middle of the night, I felt an arm reach over from behind. Someone was coming over to cuddle…but it was from the wrong side! I slapped the arm away. Burnout most have been a little burned out because he forgot which side Valdy was on in his sleep. I forgot about it until the next morning when he mentioned it and we all had a good laugh.

Hillbilly Dave gave us a ride to the trail in the back of his pickup truck, and I slipped him a $10 donation.

The trail this morning meandered through the Mesa Wind Farm for the first few miles. Giant turbines twisted overhead as we turned toward the mountains and began climbing away from Highway 10. The rest of the group was moving slow and soon I was alone as I climbed up a steep gorge with the turbines slowly shrinking in the distance.

Once up at the top, the trail turned and twisted midway up from the valley floor towards Whitewater Preserve. The mountains on the horizon were folded like a sailor’s sun burnt face and their colored striations spoke of their formation many millennia ago. As the sun rose the shadows stretched along the ground and the earth began to bake.

Descending to the Preserve, I snaked along the river and passed two gentleman with a golden retriever a piece. They called out “How far are you going?” “To Canada,” I said as I moved down the trail.

I stopped to filter water at the Preserve and another couple came up and asked me about my sleeping pad, which they thought I used to reflect the sun since it is a shiny metallic silver. The man warned me about the Sierra, but told me he admired my youth and audacity to set out on such an adventure.

On my way I went as the clouds rolled in and a cold wind began to blow. The mountains I had climbed just two days ago had their heads in the clouds and were hidden from my sight.

Time passed and I continued walking without a sign of my friends even though I looked behind me often. I passed a brother and sister from Australia and thought how nice it would be to have my sisters here with me to experience these sun burnt and wind swept landscapes.

My mind got away from me and before I knew it, it was 12:15. I had been walking for 5 hours and 45 minutes and covered 17 miles.

I put down my pack and ate my lunch. About 50 minutes later, I heard familiar voices. My friends had arrived. Burnout told me he thought they were never going to see me again. Not out of the question, since so many meetings on the trail are the first and last and even friendships can last only a couple of days before the friends become separated by miles of trail. He had texted me the mile number for the siesta spot, which turned out to be where I had stopped. What good luck!

After a happy reunion and some rest and relaxation, we decided to walk another 5 miles to Mission Creek. The trail crisscrossed the creek as we made our way up stream. It reminded me of the North Kaibab Trail in Grand Canyon National Park between Bright Angel and Cottonwood Campground, though not as grand.

Some how at the campsite, I lost my spoon and was forced to eat food that didn’t require one for dinner. These next few days should be interesting. I have a lot of mashed potatoes and sunflower butter…

We plan to hike two lower mileage days and get into Big Bear Lake early on Wednesday, May 10th in order to make the most of our town day.

Good night.