From Joshua tree spring to Fox mill spring
June 15, 2014
On the trail by 8:30 this morning – I woke up at first light but preferred my dreams to waking for a little longer. “Good morning J,” I sing. “Time to get up. Another night that we didn’t get eaten by mountain lions!” I add, satisfied.
I hate getting up, but I sure love mornings on the trail. I think I’m happy every day, around 10 am (ok a few small exceptions).
We climb up 2000 feet, to 7000 ft, then back down to 5000 ft for the next water source. Hallelujah, it’s a little tiny creek, and it’s flowing well. After being left high and dry last night I was worried it would happen again. Even walking quickly, six miles is plenty of time to imagine all kinds of scenarios around dying of thirst. I don’t think we even made it to parched today.
The creek is small, but has a wider river of green foliage around it – these mountains are so dry – it’s nice to see ferns and columbines. We eat our pepperoni pita sandwiches, and macaroons, and fig newtons, and nuts, and cheese. I love food a lot these days. Then it’s time to go uphill again.
This time we climb to 8000 ft, skirting around jagged peaks and ridges. We have no idea what’s going on with the geology here except that we can tell it’s complicated. Upturned schists, veining, faults, mafic intrusions. I hike in front of J because he keeps stopping abruptly to look at rocks. The peaks are taller and more jagged than we’ve seen in hundreds of miles. Each higher peak heightens my mood somehow. High country.
The views are awesome, but the whole area is hazy from the wildfire burning out by Lake Isabella. I wonder if it’s under control yet.
I’m having a lot of foot pain today. I’m blister hot and aches and pains. Knees hurt hip hurts feet ache. I thought I was over this bit. “I think I need new shoes,” I tell J.
“They look ok to me,” he says. They do look ok… but if the shoes aren’t the problem, then there’s no magic answer to my problems. Just take another big ol vial of suck-it-up. I have to suck it up anyway, no place to buy new shoes for a couple hundred miles.
We limp into Fox mill springs and once again there is no one there. I was sure we would finally see somebody. I was hoping we would finally see somebody. It would be nice to have some company tonight, take my mind off my pity party. “Looks like you’ll just have to cheer yourself up yourself,” says J, unsympathetically. Then he offers me a spoonful of nutella. That’ll do. Kennedy meadows tomorrow!