We walk along the dark and lovely Deep Creek most of the day. We arrive at the hot springs just when we need them most. I’ve soon completely forgotten about the pebble I can’t seem to get out of my shoe. Humbly, I sit in the pools beneath my umbrella, refusing to let the sun’s…

Big Bear Lake is below us to the left, the Mojave on the right. The day is full of social adjustments as we hike through the morning with our new friends Chris and John. Everyone is behaving differently around unfamiliar people. Fresh conversations spring up, differences in pace become apparent. By the end of the…

Never have I known such gluttony. Our ability to consume seems superhuman. Just as we reach the brink of vomiting, we take care of our various tasks, then go back and eat again. We, along with a few other equally grimy hikers that we run into (like John here), eat all that is edible in…

About six miles short of the road to Big Bear we run completely out of food and water. There’s no description for the ecstasy that consumed us as we consumed our first kitchen-cooked meal since the day we set foot on the trail. It made the 3-mile walk back to our campsite feel like nothing.

Our path wends almost effortlessly through the San Bernardios. A day that walking feels like the only natural thing to do. In fact we try to stop early, we had planned on an easy day. We can’t, it drives us nuts. After another five miles we can relax and dream of the food that lies…

We labor up Mission Creek, which rewards us with increasing beauty. Minds which once carried on complex internal dialogues now chant “Food Food Food Good Food Good”. Does it make us argue bitterly? Comtemplate cannibalism? No more than you’d expect.

The first half of the day was a quest to cross the stifling heat and whining wind farms of the San Gorgonio gap. When we finally reached the refreshing waters of the Whitewater River, we basked there for hours. The evening stars watched us climb into the desert hills once more for a satisfying walk…

First light, up an at em! Off we go down the wrong trail. After a couple of miles we figured it out and climbed back up to the beginning of our 25-mile, waterless descent to San Gorgonio. Mind-numbing is about the best word for it. In the morning we meet Walkin’ Jim Stolz, who does…

A day that has permanently fixed the San Jacinto mountains in my heart, a personal treasure that I’ll return to one day. The leg performs well, I treat it as tenderly as I can. Pete accomodates my pace as we climb over peak after peak, looking out over desert on one side and green valleys…

Climbing into the San Jacintos, I pull a muscle in my leg. Our pace slows way down, which makes us appreciate the mountains we are ascending even more. We stop early at a spring surrounded by truly majestic Cedars. I stretch and massage the leg.