Pacific Crest Trail Day 15: Meh

PCT Day 15 — May 11, 2025
Big Bear to Holcomb Creek
Hostel Perch Camp to Windy As Hell Camp
PCT miles: 22 miles
Total miles: 294.5 miles
Elevation change: 2326ft gain, 2566ft loss

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Today started a lot like yesterday. I could have used a little more sleep, but when I woke up at 6am, the sky already had some pink clouds in the sky. Time to get up. I didn’t have any definite plans for the day, but I wanted to get back on trail sooner rather than later, and light snoozing was only going to make me feel like I was behind. Sure, it was impossible to get behind a schedule that didn’t exist, but my brain didn’t always adhere to logic. Get up now, or stress later.

I packed up, truly grateful for such a peaceful stay in town. This camping arrangement was perfect. Back in the kitchen, I finished off my ice cream while the rest of my corn dogs and hash browns baked. I ate those while talking with Smiley, who wasn’t really feeling the magic of trail life yet. Maybe he never would. “Why am I out here when I could wake up in my comfortable bed at home?” Only he could answer that question for himself. I didn’t know my answer off the top of my head, but I was positive that a good one existed. The specifics didn’t matter, and it was too early in the day to cast a line into the pool of my heart searching for them. I didn’t need to know. Maybe I didn’t even want to.

I took my time getting ready on the porch, soaking in the quietness that was soon to evaporate. My food bag was heavy, with enough calories to sustain me through an on-trail zero day at some upcoming hot springs. My exit from the PCT had been muddled somewhat after another trail angel offered me a ride, so I might not need the bonus rations, but I wanted to be prepared in case I had the courage and patience to pull off the rare feat. Three burritos from Taco Bell were coming for a ride, along with more bars than I could fathom eating.

I finally decided that it was time to go, and that meant power walking a mile to the bus stop. I made it with a minute to spare, hoping that I hadn’t left anything behind in my haste. I ran through the mental checklist. Everything was accounted for except for a goodbye or two. I’d see them again, especially if I spent two nights near the springs.

I’ve never learned so much about someone’s life in such a short time as I did on that ride. In me, the driver had a captive audience, and I eventually put away my phone, accepting that my remaining chores could get done at the trailhead. And after the easiest hitch of my life (I hadn’t even stopped walking to where I thought would be the best spot), I was there.

I braided my hair and scrutinized the high clouds over the desert while calling home to wish FlowerPower a happy Mother’s Day. Getting back to trail had been way easier than expected, so I had plenty of time to talk and remind her that I loved her. And as sleepy as I was, I didn’t really want to hike anyway. It seemed hard. Did I really need to walk 20 miles today? Maybe Smiley was onto something. But then there were no more excuses. Time to hike. I shouldered my pack and continued north after crossing the highway.

I was at peace with the final days out here on the remaining miles of the PCT. I was happy to hike alone. I was happy to be going home. The weather was looking good, and all I needed to do was walk for a few more days. Other hikers would continue north from there, but I would return to Colorado, to Spice, to Tango, and I would be happy about it. As I started to sweat, I contrasted all that with 2015, when I left Big Bear in a snowstorm to hike alone. “It was storming in town, but almost nothing out here. No snow on the ground too. Awesome.” And I was also less settled in my vision of the future. In many ways, I was just getting started on the PCT, still just figuring it out. Leaving Big Bear, I remember being torn between sticking with the small community I knew or pushing forward alone. “Pretty quickly, I lost all my friends. More will come, I suppose.” More did, and I left them behind too eventually. Were these the right choices? How could I ever know?

I was more brain-tired than I wanted to be, and my heel blister was somehow more sensational after the long layover. Go figure. However, the trail was smooth and flowed by easily. As Campfire had urged me to do, I stopped occasionally to observe, but this brain was operating on low-power mode. I’m sure that I scratched some juniper scruff and saw some pretty desert vistas, but those memory files are empty. I plugged along, content and indifferent. Why was it so warm and muggy?

I finally made it to Caribou Creek, where I planned to lunch. I would have preferred a nap, but the final two burritos were a decent alternative, and I followed them with some Oreos and chips as I lounged in the shade of a tall ponderosa. A lot of hikers passed by, but trail was hidden from view, so I had no idea who.

I did see some familiar faces after I left, but then hiked alone for the rest of the afternoon. Still, I took heart in hearing that they planned to zero nearby the hot springs too. A full, relaxing day without the distractions of town and cell service would be better with friends. There were some excellent views of Big Bear and San Gorgonio from the ridge trail, and I fought a losing battle to be present. I didn’t hate anything and was having a pretty good time, but the day just felt like a big ‘meh’. This kind of thing was inevitable, but I vowed to get a good night’s sleep tonight. It was stupid to waste a day as glorious as this one just because I was tired.

The trail said goodbye to the lake and the mountains when it dropped over the north side of the ridge. I couldn’t remember if this burn zone was the same in 2015 or if this area had been forest back then, and eventually stopped trying to figure it out. Instead, I turned on some tunes to help me pass the time and maybe revive myself a little. Crunching back into the desert, flowers bloomed and bushes poked.

I ran into some more familiar faces just before sunset. I hadn’t seen them in a week, so it was entertaining to catch up briefly before moving on to find a nice view. I wondered why I hadn’t camped with them while I walked, feeling my angry blisters bulge against my shoes. “Because I like to be able to pee wherever I want,” was my answer this time.

A few miles later, I caught that sunset as it painted a distant silhouette of mountains orange. I knew them. And my hike ended at their base, which was both bad and good. To see the end was different from anticipating its arrival, and now I could see the remainder of my PCT stage. There were no more horizons for me. Just this last one. To honor this, and because I was dead tired, I set up camp on a windy lump. I saw no reason why these gusts wouldn’t dissipate under the light of the full moon, and by the time I questioned that shoddy attempt at wisdom, I was already too reclined to reverse course. My wind pants blew a short distance before a bush caught them, inspiring me to secure my pile of things better, and I listened intently to each rush as it approached. They were getting less frequent and carried less oomph. Fortunately, I was tired enough to sleep through anything, and I fell asleep without even realizing it.