Walking Across the Mojave

Leaving Hiker town, we knew we would be in for hot dry desert, with water sources far and few between. We left a couple of hours before the sunrise, and soon found ourselves walking on an open aquaduct flowing abundantly with water between its concrete banks. After a few more miles the aquaduct became sealed off taking the appearence of a concrete road winding through the desert, up into the hills and through the wind farms. As the heat of the day began to set in, we were forced to take whatever shade we could find, even if it meant lying in the few feet of headspace between the aquaduct and a concrete bridge leading over it. With memorial day around the corner, we had good luck with trail magic in the area, being treated to cold sodas and even hard boiled eggs. After a long day of 24 miles, we spent the night in Tylerhorse Canyon, where we decided it was time to transition into night hiking. We spent the following day trying to rest in the shade, but had a hard time amongst the talkative hikers. After waiting out some stormy skies in the afternoon, we began hiking around 9:00pm. As we climbed by headlamp through the night, we enjoyed being some of the only hikers on the trail for a short while. As the first signs of light began to appear around 4:30am, we found ourselves stumbling in our steps, in desperate need of some rest. We quickly layed out our sleeping bag on an uneven slope beside the trail and promptly fell asleep. After a couple of hours we woke up shortly after the sun had risen, and hiked 4 more miles to Willow Springs road. Still exuasted but able to stand up-right, we hitchhiked into Tehatchapi with a hang gliding enthisiast in town for a special event. With nothing better to do before the event began, he drove us around to pick up more stove fuel, water, and groceries, before driving us back to the trailhead where he had found us. We quickly set up camp beneath the shade of some large oaks and took a very well deserved rest.

For the next three nights we followed this schedule, though we found it easier to begin hiking closer to 5:00pm, walking through the sunset and into the night. While hiking in 60 degree weather is very enjoyable, the disadvantages of night hiking cannot be ignored as you miss many of the defining characteristics of the landscape that surrounds you. Also, there were times at night where we found it difficult to follow an unfamiliar trail and repeatedly got lost. In this light, night hiking is more about survival than recreation, but when you're hiking across the Mojave with highs in the 100's, self preservation is the priority.

Our third night we pushed ourselves hard and hiked 20 miles in 9 hours. As we usually take a siesta to break up longer days, it normally takes us much longer to hike this far. We payed the price the following day with sore feet and muscles, Mandalynn's shin being particularly problematic. We continued with our new routine into the following night, but only made 9 miles to the Blue Robin Spring before the pain in her shin prevented us from going any further. Thankfully we were at a reliable water source with plenty of shade during the day beneath the pines. It felt great to get something resembling a full night's rest for a change, as we slept late into the morning. After a full day of relaxation, we decided to try and push on to Lander's Meadow Camp, the last reliable water source for 42 miles. Despite the rumors we previously heard, this section has been very diverse and beautiful. As we ridge walk along the high desert mountains between 5000 & 6000ft, we see large pine, lush meadows filled with tall knee-high grass that has not yet withered, and the occasional cow. After we arrived at Lander's Camp late in the evening, we decided we needed to take some time off rather than push through a 42 mile dry stretch with a possible injury.

The following day we got the word from some fellow hikers that some mutual friends back at Blue Robin Spring had coordinated a ride out on account of a case of tendonitis. In time we got a hold of the trail angel as well and arranged for a time and a meeting place to be extricated at 5 miles away. Before we could make it halfway there, we recieved word that our original ride had bailed, but someone else would be at the meeting spot at 7 to pick us up. As we began to drop several thousand feet into Kelso valley, we were surprised to hear the sound of an ATV coming our way. As the woman came to a quick stop beside us, she promptly asked Mandalynn if she was the injured hiker. Confused and a little bewildered, she responded "Maybe?" After a brief conversation our friend ripped back up the mountain to grab her truck (she loves any excuse to take her quad out for a spin). In a short while she returned, and after we more fully explained our situation, she kindly volunteered to help track down the other group of injured hikers as well. Our exploration of the mountain roads was cut short when we came across a large pine across the road. We turned around and made another attempt from the other side of the mountain but to no avail. In the mean time we learned all about how this woman lived atop the mountain, totally off the grid, raising her quadripalegic son with the help of her partner. As we began to run low on time, we at last got dropped off at the meeting spot, quite literally in the middle of nowhere. 7:00 quickly passed and we didn't see another car until 7:30. A red van pulled up and as we leaned in the window, hundreds of gallons of water crammed into every nook and cranny could be seen. Turns out he was refilling a water cache along the 42 mile dry stretch. After we explained our situation yet again, we agreed to let him go about his bussiness, but asked him to stop if we were still on the side of the road when he headed out. We didn't see another car until he reappeared around 9:30pm. Without a clear alternative, we hopped in his van and decided upon a destination for the evening. As we had heard through the grape vine earlier in the day, the Chimney fire had just broken out 50 miles due North of us, closing a good stretch of trail. Consequently we decided to go to Walker pass campground for the night, marking the edge of the closure. In the morning we were able to hitch a ride down the pass to the nearby town of Lake Isabella, where we stayed for a couple of days as we followed the status of the fire. As one hiker put it, "It looks like your options are either burning deserts above 100 degrees, or post-holing everyday in the Sierras."

While the fire has now been contained and the trail is set to reopen in a couple days, we are in no rush to jump into the heavy snow pack of the Sierra, only 50 miles away by trail. As we continue to let Mandalynn's foot take some time off, we are spending a few extra days on the Kern river, just North of Kernville. With shade and fast moving snow melt from the mountains to the north, it is only a small preview of what is to come.

Cheers from the trail!
Stump & Mandalynn