Good friend of the podcast, Liz, is guest-writing blog posts for us this week, about her experience on the Foothills Trail. Check back each day for more stories from Liz!
Day 4 we awoke early to set off as quickly as possible. We’d pack up without breakfast and then eat when we retrieved our bear bin at Whitewater. I stepped out of the tent to the dry chilly air, looked up and stopped. The heavens were full of stars. Absolutely glorious. It was then that I’d realized that every morning had been cloudy, without the faintest glimpse at a night’s sky. With headlamps burning, we set off to Whitewater. There’s a reason why some of us backpack, a reason we don’t just use campgrounds or do day hikes. This morning is one of those reasons. We crested Grassy Knob, coming upon the benches and the views of lake just as the sun rose above the mountain peaks. The sun’s golden rays bathed the world in a glow that I will never forget. I couldn’t help but remember the absolute agony I was in at this point during our July hike. At that time, my feet had swollen and were brutally blistered. I counted my blessings as we strode into Whitewater without pain and in high spirits. Once retrieving our bear bin stash, we enjoyed breakfast and redivided our supplies.
Before we could finish, Taz, the godfather himself, drove up to see how we were fairing. He explained that he was there to pick up a fellow through hiker from Louisiana who had decided to terminate his hike due to the impending storm hitting his home on Thursday. A little concerned, we asked for a weather update and as we’d been told before, we should expect rain on Thursday, but this day and tomorrow would be clear. We told him our intentions to hike either to Chimneytop or Lighthouse by Wednesday night. He said he could get us from Chimneytop if things got bad and that there was cell service as well! Done, as I didn’t really want to hike 22 miles on Wednesday anyways. Two hugely important things happened this day. We passed the farthest we’d hiked in July and we made it past the halfway point. After an arduous but gloriously sunny day, we made it the 16 miles to Big Bear Camp. We were tired, sore and felt disgusting. After setting up camp, we rinsed ourselves and our clothes off in the creek then hung the clothes to dry overnight. The exhaustion was real this evening and we retired early.
Grateful for a full day in the sun to come, we rested easy. That is, until 3 A.M., when I was jolted awake by the slight but unmistakable sound of drizzle. I nudged my tent-mate awake, letting her know that while it wasn’t supposed to, it was currently raining, and all of our stuff was outside trying to “dry”. I laid there awake for a moment, seeing if it would lighten up but it only rained harder. Reluctantly, we crawled out of the dry and warmth of our tent and hastily gathered our still soaked clothes from the line. So much for having clean dry clothes in the morning.
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