Hitchhiking

So I definitely stink at hitchhiking. I started the day off early, planning to hike to the nearest creek so I could clean up. I figured it was the least I could do if I was going to try to bum a ride. Two miles later I found Cane Break Creek, which was dry. I sat on the shoulder of the road and washed off with my spare bottle of water instead. Then I brushed my teeth, gummed two listerine strips, and rubbed myself down with sage leaves. I smelled... somewhat less horrible?

There is an art and a science to hitchhiking, none of which I understand. I tried walking backward and giving oncoming cars my best insurance salesman "I'm your pal" grin. That didn't work. They must have salesmen around here. I tried a slightly less enthusiastic "I don't sell insurance and I'm also not an axe murderer" smile. No dice. I thought that, after days alone in the desert, perhaps my idea of a friendly smile looked more deranged than anything. It was also difficult because, where many hikers stand still at an ideal location (slow speed limit and wide shoulder) I prefer to keep moving. If I'm not getting picked up I at least want to make some progress. Which means I'm often at spots in the road where I am less visible, or where stopping is impossible. Eventually, after about 5 or 6 miles though, I got lucky.

I got picked up by Joshua, a local who was just dropping his kids off at school and whose wife is Kernville's vet. He was nice enough to pick me up and drive me into Onyx. Once there, I called my parents, who said they would bring out my resupply later in the day. This was about 9:30, and I had until 2 before they arrived, so I sat back against an abandoned convenience store near the post office to wait. Soon I was joined by a gentleman of many words and very few teeth. He generously offered me a hit off his pipe, which I politely declined, at which point he began showing me his burn scars. If none of that made any sense, then you know how I felt. We were then joined by a woman who was on her way to work at the local school. She managed to take a few healthy hits off of the pipe and still make her bus on time. Impressive. Alas my company had better things to do than hang around me, so they bid me farewell.

I sat there for perhaps five more minutes when Joshua showed back up. He had gone back to his ranch and was doing chores when he thought "you know, that guy would probably like a shower and a glass of water, his folks won't be here for hours, and I just left him to the locals in Onyx." He had returned to offer me a shower and a bite to eat, or to do some laundry. We headed back to his ranch - 2.5 acres with horses and chickens - where I was able to clean up. After a shower I asked if I could do something to help out to pass the time. He reluctantly allowed me to help shovel the horse stables, and we had a pleasant chat as we worked.

Joshua has two kids in a private Christian school and, as I mentioned, his wife is the local vet. His older son (16) is an avid hunter/fisherman, and they were working on a shed out back to be his man cave. Meanwhile, Joshua runs the ranch and, for today at least, was my personal trail angel. As we rambled around the property we were followed by his two dogs, a black and yellow lab, and a horse that seemed to think it was a dog. Around 1:30 we wrapped up and I was dropped back in Onyx. I've met a lot of people who espouse Christian values, but with the kindness and charity I was shown, I could see that here was a really neat family just out there living them. You gotta respect that.

About ten minutes after I got dropped back in Onyx my parents showed up. We cruised into Kernville, on the northwest shore of Isabella Lake, where we enjoyed a nice steak dinner on the Kern River. Incidentally, the PCT will later cross the Kern, which is known as a top notch, if dangerous, river for kayaking. In fact, something like 200+ people have died in its class 4 rapids since the eighties or nineties.

Tomorrow I get back on the trail, and hopefully will be near Independence in a week. Last October there was a vicious wind storm and there are supposed to be thousands of downed trees, so we'll see. I've heard it's like hiking through a giant game of pick-up sticks, and that it is dangerous and slow going. To make matters worse, unlike SoCal I will have little phone reception. I'll continue to write my daily blog, but they may not get posted for days at a time.

I'll leave off with a weird coincidence from yesterday that will blow your mind. My plastic spork broke as I was packing up. I contemplated what I was going to do as I was hiking. I thought about getting a lightweight metal spoon in the next town. Less than a mile later, lying in the middle of the trail, was a lightweight metal spoon (in the desert, in the middle of nowhere). It got weirder as I picked up the spoon and saw that the handle was engraved with a capital J. Blam, mind blown.

Talk to you soon!