A Detour Undone … Partly (PCT)

Bottom line: Don’t let the moss grow under your feet.

As I had planned to do, I returned to the scene of the detour. Call me a purist, but I want to walk every foot, if not inch, of the PCT!

When first there in 2017, I'd bypassed the section of the PCT from Hwy 74 junction (mile marker 151.9) to Saddle Junction (mile marker 179.4) due to trail closure as a result of previous fire. Instead, I'd hiked the detour along Hwy 74. Most thru-hikers would've considered that sufficient, out of necessity and with their bigger goal in mind, moved along. But not me.

So, “Wrongway” Mark and I planned to hike this section, north to south, with one overnight camp somewhere along the way.

8/17/23, Day 0, “Meet You at the Bunkhouse” -

Mark and I met at the Idyllwild Bunkhouse. We dropped my car at the Hwy 74 and PCT junction, then had a good meal and beer at the Idyllwild Brewpub before early retirement for the night.

8/18/23, Day 1, “There’s A Storm A’comin’ ” -

Yay, Prim8 said as I hoisted my backpack.

Don’t start celebrating just yet, dude. We haven’t carried this much weight in a while.

We started up Devil’s Slide trail from Humber Park about 7AM, our hike plans already shifting per Hurricane Hillary’s projected arrival. We’d noted the good weather window the evening before at the Idyllwild Bunkhouse, with the major impact of the storm arriving Sunday. And blue sky above provided encouragement.

Though slow, we hiked the 2.5-mile Devil’s Slide Trail to the Saddle Junction, carrying additional water weight, about 3 liters worth, for our overnight. Plus, I carried a small stove with fuel and a “Bug Hut,” while Mark carried his two-person tent. My pack didn’t seem that heavy, but hauling the overnight gear had an immediate and cumulative effect.

Prim8 prepares to head south from Saddle Junction, mile marker 179.4

Our thoughts turned to completing the 27.5-mile hike to my car as early as possible, Saturday evening the latest.

"Wrongway" Mark takes a short break near Tahquitz Peak

Mostly clear sky allowed distant mountain and desert view. However, I paid the price of hiking in full sun by perspiring continuously.

Too hot, Prim8 complained.

This ain't no fun for me, either, fella.

Looking northward to Coachella Valley

Evidence of fire, the reasons for previous trail closures and my necessary detour, pervaded our views as we advanced south along the trail.

Prim8 takes in the view.

A number of fallen trees blocked the trail, requiring a cumbersome climb over or an awkward squat under, and at times an outright detour. To say the least, the trail’s poor condition slowed our progress. At one point, we missed a switchback turn and lost half an hour re-acquiring the trail. The combination of sun, fallen trees, trail brush, and the additional weight I carried beat me down.

Prim8 constantly complained of being miserable. Can’t say I blamed him.

Though slow, I slogged on towards Fobes Ranch Trail Junction, at mile-marker 166.5 and 12.9 miles south of Saddle Junction. We had expectations to reach my car before the heaviest portion of Hurricane Hillary would reach us. It came down to a matter of time. Could we out run … er, out hike Hillary?

Mark checked the weather forecast periodically. Early afternoon, he said, “The forecast moved the arrival from 1PM to 9AM morning tomorrow.”

“I guess, we’ll be hiking out in the rain,” I said.

“I don’t want to get caught in the lightening,” Mark said.

“Not a good idea,” I said.

Both of our phones squawked at the same time.

“An emergency alert, “ I noted. Riverside County had sent an emergency alert warning of potential flash flooding, high winds, heavy rain, etc, etc. “Whoa, I suppose it’s going to get serious,” I said.

“If we can make it to a campsite near Cedar Spring today, which is beyond the highest points south of Fobes Trail Junction, we can avoid the worst of the storm. From there it’s all downhill.”

I had my doubts about reaching Cedar Spring at mile-marker 161.0, another four-and-a-half miles beyond Fobes. “Yeah, nothing like being at 6,500 feet on a trail in a hurricane. We could start out earlier in the morning, too. You know, like o-dark-thirty.”

Try as I did, I couldn’t go any faster, however. Wanted to ... but couldn't. I paused numerous times to catch my breath and rest my legs. Despite my awareness of the effects of fatigue, I'd slipped and tripped a half-dozen times over the course of the day. My brain couldn’t will my body to do its bidding. As the hours passed, Mark’s goal of reaching the long downhill portion on the trail, beyond the 7,000-foot plus high point, melted away. By default, Fobes Trail Junction became our camp location for the night.

Snake! Prim8 yelled.

I’d expected to see a snake on the trail, so wasn’t surprised. It’s not poisonous, Prim8. The 18-incher checked us out for a moment before slithering away.

Shortly after, and with Fobes Trail Junction in sight down slope about two-hundred yards distance, Mark waited. As I approached, he said, “Stop there. Leave the trail and walk towards me.”

On alert, What? Prim8 said.

Maybe a rattler. I took a beeline towards Mark, then turned to look as he pointed at a coiled rattlesnake aside the trail in ambush mode.

Mark explained, “I spotted it as I walked up, and said, ‘Whoa.’ ”

Ooh, Prim8 whispered.

Yeah. And we could've walked right up to that guy without seeing him. At that point, exhausted and fixated on getting to Fobes Trail Junction, I had no energy to maintain focus on anything other than not tripping over my own feet.

Said rattler takes a slither from it's ambush position aside the trail

(Note the circular depression)

When we reached Fobes Trail Junction, we had run of the place. We set up Mark’s tent in a site snuggled between two trees. Scrub oaks I believed, though I wasn't sure what kind of trees they were ... not that I cared. They’d provide a welcomed wind break, of sorts, if it came to that.

Mark joked, "We could get hit by a falling branch in a strong wind. Wouldn't that be ironic?"

"Yeah, I suppose we could get clobbered," I replied. What are the odds?

Neither of us suggested moving to a different campsite, however. Too tired to even boil water for a freeze-dried dinner that I’d carried, we snacked lightly on dry food as we prepared for sleep.

An occasional wind rustled the nearby brush and trees. A few scattered rain drops fell. The temperature remained warmer than I expected at 6,000 feet as the sun set.

“Maybe, we can start early and get beyond the high points before the worst of the storm arrives,” Mark suggested.

“Are you going to set your phone alarm?” I said.

“No,” Mark said. “I’m a light sleeper.”

I didn’t have the energy to insist he do so. And besides, wanting to save my phone battery, I’d turned mine off. The colors of dusk that I could glimpse from under our tree-covered campsite encouraged me to take one last look before I tucked in for the night.

Ooh, pretty! Prim8 said.

Yeah, but don’t judge a hurricane by it’s looks, fella. I stood awed and humbled by the sight, and wondered what lay in store for Mark and I.

Hurricane Hillary's approach as seen from Fobes Junction, PCT

“Hey, Mark, you ought to check out the clouds,” I said as I clambered into the tent.

Mark didn’t budge ... didn’t even make a sound.

8/19/23 – Day 2, “Uncle Joe’s Moving Kinda Slow At the Junction” -

We spent the night without signs of a storm—no downpour, no gusting wind, no lightening, no thunder. In fact, eerily, the air remained calm and the temperature unusually warm.

Half-awake, I heard Mark rustling, then say, “It’s 6AM.”

We broke camp as quickly as possible, snacking on dried food as we packed up.

"I didn't expect it to be so warm last night. Didn't need to cover myself with my sleeping bag," I said. "Never would've guessed it." Perhaps, the unusual warm temperature wasn't a good omen.

"I didn't either," Mark said.

Headed south on the trail within thirty minutes, we started up the two-mile stretch with a one-thousand-foot elevation gain leading to Eagle Spring Trail Junction, hoping to beat the worst of what Hillary might dish, but figured we’d get deluged no matter what.

Bushwhacking through overgrown trail in warm, humid air didn’t help matters. Reminded of a jungle, I prayed for any slight breeze that might help cool me, though what air moved provided little relief. My pace remained slow, my legs not recovered from their previous day’s beating. And, as usual, Mark hiked on ahead.

Slogging my way up trail, I saw Mark’s approach as he descended..

“We’re not moving fast enough to get beyond the high points before the storm hits," Mark said. "It doesn't look good from farther up."

Not faster, Prim8 whined.

We won’t ... we can't, anyway. “If I try to go any faster, I’ll burn out altogether,” I replied to Mark.

“I think we should head down from Fobes Trail Junction to lower elevation. It’s better to bail now, and live to hike another day. We can always return for a day hike to complete this section,” he said.

Yes, tired, Prim8 said.

I agree, fella. Mark had me at we’re not moving fast enough. “Okay,” I said. I didn’t have a counter argument in me. Knew he was correct.

We descended to the saddle at Fobes Trail Junction, then turned toward Hwy 74 on the shortest, quickest descent route available to us.

Once on the dirt of Fobes Ranch Road, some two-and-a-half miles hike from the PCT, and per our agreement, Mark took my car keys. The plan? He'd hike ahead, then drop his pack at some point where I would wait for his return in my car.

Stop, Prim8 insisted.

No, we need to keep moving. We’ll get there … eventually.

Long before I reached Hwy 74 or Mark’s pack, however, a pickup pulled alongside and the driver offered me a lift.

Yay, Prim8 said.

I accepted with gratitude. Trail angels still exist, guy.

Maybe, a mile farther down the bumpy and rutted dirt road, she stopped for Mark, then dropped us at my car. The three of us chatted a few minutes, before she headed on to Anza. In the meantime, she'd mentioned Mark and I should consider grabbing a bite at the Paradise Cafe. I figured she thought I was on my last leg, though I couldn’t have argued any differently.

After she’d pulled away, I said to Mark, “Yeah, maybe we could get breakfast or lunch at the Paradise. What time is it?”

“9:30,” he said.

“Then, breakfast it is,” I proclaimed.

I consumed a fantastic three-egg omelet, probably, the best I’ve ever had!

Though the sky's overcast looked ominous, Mark and I drove away from the Paradise Cafe well ahead of Hurricane Hillary’s fury.

I shall return to hike the section of the PCT from Fobes Trail Junction to Hwy 74, if for no other reason than stubbornness.

A Few “Lesser Known and Obscure” Facts I Learned While in Jordan, Egypt and Israel.

Bottom line: No where else is so much hoopla crammed into such a small area.

My wife and I recently completed a three-country visit to Jordan, Egypt and Jerusalem/Bethlehem (Israel) with Uniworld. We felt safe, and encountered no protests, uprisings or hostile action, though some of the merchant vendors in Egypt were on the more insistent side. We weathered blustery winds generally, and rain on two days! In hindsight, we were there during a sweet spot. We started in Amman, Jordan, then flew to Egypt, where we were when Ramadan commenced, and finally visited Israel/Jerusalem/Bethlehem prior to Passover. Since our departure, unfortunately, some disturbances have occurred in “the force.” We’re glad we traveled there, as we thoroughly enjoyed visiting well-know historical sites … ancient by American standards … and the company of other fellow travelers.

A few things I learned in Jordan, mostly from our guide, Mohannad (I hope I’ve spelled his name correctly):

1) “Yalla” in Arabic has various meanings. Depending upon context, it could mean, Let’s go, while “Yalla, yalla” means, Hurry up … but take your time. How’s that for a more polite way to say, Get the lead out!?

2) Bedouins—in Jordan there are many—are those individuals who choose a “nomadic” lifestyle, though not as a result of destitution. Some, wealthy by Jordanian standards, may move twice yearly to locations more favorable weather-wise, occupy permanent or semi-permanent structures, or simply move tents. Many have modern conveniences, such as cell phones, motor vehicles and electrical generators, as we observed when traveling the roads.

A Bedouin awaiting a tour group wanting camel rides?

A Bedouin encampment.

3) Petra’s “Treasury” was a temple, though later people mistakenly believed a treasure had been hidden there.

Janet and I pose in front of the Petra Treasury.

Our Uniworld tour group, "Bus One," poses at the Treasury.

4) Wadi Rum, the desert region bordering southern Jordan, was a filming location for “The Martian,” as well as a number of other films, including “Lawrence of Arabia.”

Awesome views of Wadi Rum awaited no matter where I looked.

A sunset view near Palmera Camp.

5) The Dead Sea lies 1,300 feet below sea level, and has a high salt content, which makes floating in it quite easy, but getting vertical while in it quite difficult. (Self-administered mud baths are free of charge.)

Janet and I float in the Dead Sea like corks.

A contingent of our "Bus One" tour group takes a Dead Sea mud bath.

A few things I learned in Egypt, mostly from our guide, Ahmed:

6) The movie Cleopatra, starring Elizabeth Taylor, is an accurate representation of the famed Egyptian, though Liz’s eyes are the wrong color. (I’ll let you be the judge on that.)

7) The current Egyptian government (replacing the Muslim Brotherhood) embarked on a major construction program to relocate many of their poorer population to better housing. By doing so, they hope to alleviate, or disrupt and reduce, the root causes of religious/political radicalization.

8) Ancient Egyptians worshiped numerous gods and were accepting of each pharaoh's choice of which and how many to worship for the most part—though perhaps not when Tutankhamen ruled, though that’s a long story. As a result, the hieroglyphic record in their temples and tombs depict a plethora of gods, too many for me to keep track of as our guide, Ahmed, pointed them out and quizzed us. The stories told in their temples, intended to be seen by others, depict their prowess, power, strength, and favorable connection to their god(s), and should be considered more like political messages. Their way of saying, Keep me in power, I’ll protect you--an early version of, Vote for me. Sound familiar? Whereas, the stories told in their tombs weren’t intended to be seen by anyone after the tomb was closed. Oops, that hasn’t worked out so well for them! Instead, those messages were intended for their god(s) only … and should be considered gospel. (Pun intended.) By that I mean, those stories reflect what they really believed and how they wanted their god(s) to see them in their final and ever-lasting judgment.

Various Egyptians gods at Komombo Temple. (Don't ask me to name them!)

9) The ancient Egyptians considered the Nile’s west bank as the land of the dead, and thus their pyramids/tombs/graves were primarily located on the side of the “setting sun,” while the living did their thing on the east bank, the side of the “rising sun.” Temples, I’m not so sure about, but it stands to reason that many of those would be on the eastern side. (Note: before it got dammed, the Nile changed course now and then, though stayed within its flood plain.)

Aerial view of the Upper Nile near Luxor. (Note

the narrow flood plain bordered by desert.)

10) The Suez Canal wasn’t the first waterway dug through Egypt’s sands. The pharaohs dug canals connecting the Nile to Red Sea and the Mediterranean. Our guide told us one connected Qena to the Red Sea, a distance of approximately one-hundred-twenty miles.

Ancient Egyptians likely contributed a considerable number of ideas/concepts to us:

11) Ever wonder where the term breakfast originated? Try this. Break fast, as in breaking a fast, which Muslims do every day during Ramadan when they eat their first meal of the day after sunset!

12) Ever wonder where the term, Holy cow, came from? The ancient Egyptians considered cows sacred, or at least some of them did.

A "Holy Cow" on display at the Egyptian Museum in Cairo?

13) Our guide told us the ancient Egyptians originated the concept of infinity—though some would credit the Greeks … but then the Greeks ruled Egypt for a period of time, so who’s to say they didn’t expropriate the idea?

A hieroglyphic representation (snake's double loop)

of the concept of infinity at Esna Temple?

14) The “all-seeing eye,” of justice and/or healing, was the god Horus’ left eye, gouged out in a battle with Set (later renamed Seth by the Greeks). I suspect, this idea was passed on via the Free Masons to become the eyeball atop the pyramid on the US one-dollar bill!

A modern day representation of Horus' "all-seeing eye."

(Note: his left one to be exact.)

The Sphinx and Great Giza Pyramid. (No blog about a trip to

Egypt would be complete without a photo of one of these.)

A few things I learned in Israel/Jerusalem/Bethlehem, mostly from our guide, Eli (pronounced Ellie, and short for Elijah):

15) The Valley of the Shadow of Death, an otherwise small, nondescript valley in current day Jerusalem, served as the location for first-born male sacrifices in past times. Not long, deep, nor dark, it’s bisected by a curvy, two-lane paved street.

A view of the Valley of the Shadow

of Death from the Mount of Olives.

15) Israeli citizens cannot travel into Bethlehem, nor any other Palestinian Authority controlled area. We were transported from Jerusalem to Bethlehem through the “border checkpoint” by a driver who had permission by birth to cross between the two areas. And we had a different guide while in Bethlehem!

Queued at the checkpoint waiting to exit Palestinian Authority

controlled Bethlehem. I did not dare exit the vehicle!

16) The Church of the Nativity, purported site of Jesus’ birth, is utilized by various religions/sects (Catholic, Armenian Apostolic, and Greek Orthodox Church, with minor Coptic Orthodox, Ethiopian Tewahedo Orthodox, and Syriac Orthodox rites) each taking turns to worship by appointment, of sorts.

17) Sites and locations across the entire region are in close proximity. I felt quite stunned that most locations of biblical reference (Christian) where within a few days walk, something difficult to comprehend until I saw it. (I had problems with Jordanian customs twice as result of carrying small binoculars! They’re quite touchy about people sneaking across the Jordanian/Israeli border.)

If you’re so moved to travel to those destinations, in part or all, I recommend utilizing a well-known travel company, such as Uniworld. An established company will be working with locals who are in the know about where to go … and where not to. And you may want to consider cooler months, while also avoiding tourist season.

Walk in beauty.

Encounter at Hadrian's Wall (Award Winning!)

I'm thrilled to announce that my story "Encounter at Hadrian's Wall" received a Solas Award from Traveler's Tales for this year.

As a result, they may publish my story in some fashion at some point (fingers crossed). At the very least, I'm in contention to be included in an anthology later this year. They'll let me know as soon as they make those determinations . . . and you can bet I'll let you know when I get word of any publication!

In the meantime, I'm on hold in the above regards, so can't post any links nor post my story otherwise, until they've made their decisions. I can post some photos, however.

My story follows my wallow in the deep history of Hadrian's Wall, and including the more recent developments along it, as well as the beauty of English countryside.

One morning, early in my trek, I came upon this roadside

restaurant, where I enjoyed a great English-style breakfast.

Here I am at the highest point along Hadrian's Wall Path, 345 meters.

A section of the ruins of Hadrian's Wall somewhere midway across England.

The trail path sign at the western terminus, where I

completed my trek from England's east coast.

Bottom line: My blisters were worth it! Keep on trekking and walk in beauty.