Why I Hiked the Pacific Crest Trail – Entry 3
Author: admin | Category: Pacific Crest Trail, Trail TalesThis is one of my Trail Tales. Here are entry 1 and entry 2.
We presented quite a sight with the three of us standing at the curb of the road with three backpacks, three sleeping bags, two grocery bags full of food, one suitcase, one two-burner Coleman stove, and one can of Coleman fuel. That we got any rides at all attests to the magnificent goodwill of others, and to our ability to appear so foolish that no one suspected we were dangerous.
We were picked up late afternoon by a military man driving a white station wagon. He drove through the night on Interstate 10, dropping us off in San Bernandino in the wee hours. Hitchhiking to Seattle looked like it was going to be a breeze. We rolled out our sleeping bags behind a dumpster and slept until first light.
After breakfast at a diner we called transport car agencies in the area. With San Bernandino, Pasadena and Los Angeles all being good-sized cities we thought we finally had a chance, but no go. We did find out that a mobile home was being delivered to a dealer in Los Angeles. Since hitching on Interstate 5 in Los Angeles was where we wanted to be we climbed aboard the “shipment” and made ourselves at home playing cards around a table. Yes, this hitching gig was working out well.
We were dropped off on a limited access highway that mainly served commuter traffic. That was the point where reality set in. We set up on the curb of a ramp with our three backpacks, three sleeping bags, two grocery bags full of food, one suitcase, one two-burner Coleman stove, and one can of Coleman fuel. We worked shifts of two people with thumbs out, one person resting, thinking that the extra person provided more opportunities for showmanship. We could have had all the rockettes out there with us and it would not have attracted the attention of commuters buzzing by to get home.
Around midnight, as a steady drizzle started to dampen our spirits further, a commuter coming home from the second shift took pity on us. In fact, he offered for us to have supper and spend the night with him, which we readily accepted. There was one catch: we needed to pack our three backpacks, three sleeping bags, two grocery bags full of food, one suitcase, one two-burner Coleman stove, and one can of Coleman fuel into the second VW Beetle of our journey, this time with a fourth person added.
The man lived in a depressed section of Los Angeles. His roommates had a big batch of delicious chili prepared that they shared with us and some visiting teenagers. After the company left we sacked out in the living room, a distinct improvement from sleeping on pavement behind a dumpster.
The next morning we encountered more goodwill in a surprising way. As we walked in the morning to the nearest Interstate 5 entrance ramp, two teenage girls who had shared chili with us the evening for spotted and stopped us.
“Hitching around here could be dangerous,” one concerned girl warned us.
“We’ll be OK,” I assured them, “There’s safety in numbers (even if our numbers get us stuck there for eternity, I added in my thoughts).”
“I don’t know,” the girl said doubtfully. “Look, I just got this for Christmas, you guys probably need it more than me.”
She whipped out a huge knife with that pronouncement, one intended to gut something of flesh and bones. The disconnect of a teenage girl selflessly sacrificing a Christmas gift best appreciated by Jack the Ripper left us a bit speechless. Perhaps this was a rough neighborhood indeed. In any case, we did not think such contraband should be added to our formidable load and we declined the gracious offer. We would be offered additional contraband that morning that almost put an abrupt end to our journey.
Tags: Pacific Crest Trail, Trail Tales