Pacific Crest Trail Day 9: Freebird

PCT Day 9 — May 5, 2025
Zero day in Idyllwild, CA
Honey Bee Cottage
PCT miles: 0 miles
Total miles: still 181.8 miles
Elevation change: none

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A zero day in Idyllwild to wait out a snowstorm on San Jacinto. That sounded familiar. Why? Because I had done the exact same thing in 2015. I didn’t need an excuse to take a rest day, and this town was worth a visit anyway, but I was pleased that things had worked out as they had. The coziness of that day and the energy of the accumulated hikers was a vibe. I was eager to see if any of that would be the same this time too.

There was one major difference from the start. Whereas before I awoke inside a semi-collapsed tarp shrinking under dense snow, I was now under a solid roof, in a warm room, on a spacious bed. Just barely yesterday did I remember how toughing it out had ended, and I was grateful to Queen Bee for taking me in. When I stepped outside, there wasn’t snow on the ground like there had been in 2015, but it was cold and damp. Not great recovery weather if I were camping. The variety and levity of the birdsongs trilling from the foggy treetops paused me outside. Then I retreated to bed, bringing coffee and leftover pizza with me. Time to laze.

Phone business carried me through the next few hours — blog work, a call home — and I felt the caffeine build within me as I emptied the cauldron at my elbow. There were the jitters and the sweats. I was reminded that I always smell worst during a thru-hike after one shower. For some reason, it takes two to get fresh, and I was one short.

Anyway, this was pretty boring stuff, but it needed to get done. I did as much as I could, then took the rest with me to the coffee shop when Queen Bee offered me a ride to town. There, I went big and ordered a four-shot decaf cardamom latte. The barista didn’t even know what to think about someone going as bold as I was. At least, that was the joke. Then, more interneting with the occasional conversation with other hikers that filtered through.

It was all gloom and spook when I went wandering around town to get some other chores done. First, a veggie burger, then a sock swap at the gear store, then resupply. The guy at the gear shop was infectiously stoked about the weather, telling me how rare it was for the fog to roll in like this. “I can’t see across town!” And that was something. Idyllwild is a very small place. I saw my friends Moritz, Don, and Florentine on my way to meet the Idyllwild mayor, Max, a fluffy golden retriever (he has a tie and everything). And it was a good thing I did. They gave me the scoop on where I could find dehydrated refried beans, and as I was about to find out, I would need all the resupply help that I could get. So, to the western clothing shop, which, oddly, had a monopoly on beans. I grabbed three bags, then moved on to the big grocery store.

In the end, it took five different stops to piece together four days of trail food. This was a bit extreme, but with so many hikers in town waiting out the storm, shelves were bare of staple foods. I won’t have much bar variety during this stretch to Big Bear, but I won’t go hungry either. Good enough. At least I’ll have my beloved beans.

With the library closed for the say, where I remembered watching Shrek in a community room with a dozen other hikers as the snow piled outside, I sat outside the closed coffee shop after grabbing one more hot drink. I was running out of energy to complete the mundane things remaining on my list, but dinner with the others was hours away. Suddenly, I felt lonely. Where were all the other hikers? In 2015, we’d all been together, at the bakery, in the library, at the same hotel, but now everyone seemed to disappear to their Airbnbs. I didn’t blame them, mindlessly marathoning whatever movies were on cable was the perfect thing to do, but I wasn’t one of them, so I felt left out. There was no central hangout spot, only separate pods. By my own doing and because of this cold, I was a pod of one.

But it wasn’t all bad. When the coffee guy finally locked up, he let me have my pick of the leftover pastries. I took the three vegan donuts. One for now, one for breakfast, and one for lunch. Resupply complete!

Finally, it was 7pm. Time for Mexican food. After I’d eaten eight of them, I’d called the tacos at La Casita “the best I’ve ever had,” so I was pretty juiced to see what they could do for me burrito-wise. The others showed up, mostly not limping, as well as four other hikers who I’d never met. All cool people.

The veggie burrito was top-notch, living up to my lofty expectations, even throwing in a few pleasant surprises. Apparently, the margaritas were good too, but for the sake of tomorrow, I passed. It may have been Cinco de Mayo today, but tomorrow was the 6th. The last thing I wanted was a lingering hangover at altitude.

Me, Moritz, Don, and Florentine moseyed back to our accommodations through the quiet streets in the dark. The clouds above were perforated, letting the Big Dipper shine through and giving me hope that tomorrow would be a fine day to hike. I would be alone, though. The four of us were all in Idyllwild, but I was 30 miles ahead on trail, a distance that was likely to grow rather than shrink. This was the last time I would see them. 

When it was time to go our separate ways, I wished them all good luck and told them that they were all doing great. They were. As I walked away, I thought that this was maybe how Tarzan felt in 2015 as he slowly pulled ahead of me, Gentle Giant, Grinder, and 42. To hike consistently with others on a thru-hike, it takes personality compatibility as well as a matched pace. Sure, I could start pumping the brakes, but that wasn’t my style, and I wasn’t sure if being part of a tight crew was something I wanted. I could have been wrong, but being a freebird felt like my path. I’d miss these wonderful people. However, the goodbye was always going to come. And with only ten days left on the PCT this season, I wanted the opportunity to be alone. There was more pondering to do, and being a hermit wasn’t so bad (see: free donuts). I was actually good at it. At least, that’s what I told myself. And maybe, just maybe, I was right this time.