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After a cold night,
we awake to the soft colors of the sunrise coating fresh snow. It’s beautiful up here, and I keep reminding myself how lucky I am to have this scenery as the backdrop of my adventure. I hold tight to these moments of beauty as we start to descend.
It’s amazing how much can change in a few miles – we go from alpine to desert in a matter of hours and before we know it, the highway to Cabazon is in sight.
18 miles later, we are picked up in an old white car by a fellow hiker who is also staying with the trail angel we’ve booked for the night. She drives us to In N Out, where we feast on double doubles and animal fries. It’s strange to go from such a peaceful morning in the mountains to the chaos of highways and fast food, but we’re so happy with the cheeseburgers in our laps and the miles at our backs.
The next day is an unexpected zero day.
My hiking buddy has twisted her ankle and the trail angel’s house offers a cozy haven where we meet a crew of lovely hikers. I am amazed as everyone dumps out their food bags and displays their resupply. Some people go for luxury when it comes to food, and it’s fascinating to see the different selections. One guy carries an array of spices and a separate bag just for snacks.
Our goodbye to the Germans is short lived, as they catch up to us due to our unscheduled day off. It’s so good to see them again.
After more fast food and a beautiful family dinner prepared by one of the hikers, we set off the next day into the heat. We walk towards a wind farm after reading we can fill up our water bottles there, but finding out it’s closed has us pushing 6 more miles to the river. Once we arrive, our first river crossing provides zero drama and we enjoy and campfire at the water’s edge.
The next day is a unique challenge,
as a large portion of the trail has been washed away and we are tasked with making our own path through a riverbed. This is thrilling at first, as it reminds me of hiking Te Araroa, but it becomes a slog after a while. Our group seeks every opportunity for shade, and the miles drag on as breaks become more frequent. Eventually, we’re able to rejoin the trail and find a peaceful camp next to a stream. The group is exhausted but we’ve put in good miles on a hard day.
I earn my trail name on day 20.
I predicted that this day would be a cruisy 20 miles, and it turned out to be one of the most tiring days so far. Between more creek bed scrambling in the morning, a big water carry, snowy ridges, and high altitude, we’re spent after 13 miles. One of my hiking buddies says “I have a beautiful memory of you telling me this was going to be a cruisy day.” And so the name Cruisy was born.
Day 21 is actually cruisy,
and we make our way down to just three miles outside the town of Big Bear Lake, where we plan to stay one night the following day. It’s an early camp, but we enjoy the quiet and the shade before waking up early the next day for the one thing we’ve been dreaming of this whole section: margaritas.
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