May 14, 2008 Pacific Crest Trail

Destination: Mission Creek
Miles: 21

Adrian: We woke at 5 a.m. and began the easy and sandy trek to what will be our lowest elevation of the hike until the Columbia River on the Oregon/Washington border. Also known as the Interstate 10.

We ducked under the freeway bridge and hiked into West Palm Springs on our way up to the Mesa Wind Farm. They offer free water to PCT hikers as well as air conditioning.

As we crossed a pass and descended into Whitewater Canyon the temperature soared into the upper 90s. We hiked from shade spot to shade spot until hitting the river. The Whitewater is wide and deep enough to submerge yourself. We spent a few hours cooling off and laying on the sandy beach.

Late that afternoon we climbed another pass, entered into San Gorgonio Wilderness and camped right next to Mission Creek.

We met another hiker from Appleton, Wisconsin named Troy. He's a real nice guy and a strong hiker. I hope we see more of him.

Happy trails...

Kirsten: I had this brilliant plan on how to outsmart the desert. You see, I lived in southern Arizona until leaving for college, so I know these things. The things only us desert rats can possibly know.
We would start early, long before the sun's Hell-inspired rays would reach us. We would stroll through the desert and be up in the cool mountain air - basking in our triumph over the heat - by dusk.

Maybe I've been out of the desert too long because my timing was off by two or three hours.
We were hiking before 6 a.m. and by 7:30 a.m. had traveled four miles or more. It was about then - right after crossing under Interstate 10 - the sun began its slow simmer of the desert floor. The same desert we were walking through.

It's all about timing for hikers descending from snowy Fuller Ridge down to the sandy, scrub brush-filled desert washes and slowly through the dry, golden foothills of the San Gorgonio National Forest. By the time we reached the Mesa Wind Farm at 9 a.m., the temperature was creeping into the 90s. And we were miles from the mountains.

We struggled for hours until reaching Whitewater River around 2:30 p.m. We would sit there, next to the river in a 5-foot swath of shade - occasionally venturing into the water for a soak - for hours. Water is one of those treasures that reveals its value only to those who have gone without it. I am obsessed with water these days.

We recovered a bit and then limped into camp - at a measly 3,100 feet elevation - around 8 p.m. The mountains and its cool air will have to wait for tomorrow.