It was April 15th, and just day three of my journey. Hiking with me was my new and noble comrade Oakdale who I had met on border of California and Mexico. We had already survived a crazy snowstorm up on Mt. Laguna. After a big day of 23 miles or so, the trail became more rocky and the manzanita gave way to massive boulders. Making camp among the company of such beauty would have been a pleasure, yet I was content to keep pushing for a few more miles. The air smelled sweet and dry as the sun dropped on the horizon. The rocks were painted with purple and pink as we descended downhill toward the desert floor.
I felt jubilant, singing my rap lyrics about snowboarding:
Carvin’ huge trenches as I’m dissin’ on my bros. Feelin’ like superman underneath my clothes. Half cab, tail poke, phillips 66. I rip the tricks, like Mxyzptlk, fast like Nick the quick, with my powder crucifix. I shred the gnar without even tryin’ suckas! I skied of off Lincoln’s nose on Mt Rushmore!
Mid-rap, we came upon a roaring campfire. A tall kind fellow with a big red beard and baggy clothes smiled and said, “Howdy! Would you like to join our fire?” I replied “Much obliged.”
I couldn’t tell if the man was 25 years old or 50. “Are you thru-hiking?” I asked.
“Yes. I’m Michael and that’s Stephanie over there in the tent. The guy you just passed is Andy, but I think he’s asleep by now.”
“Oh man. I hope I didn’t wake him up,” I replied. To which he responded not to worry.
Just days later I named Michael “Cool Ranch” for his love of Cool Ranch Doritos which by a small miracle they had at the Warner Springs Community Center whose “store” was literally a closet with a very serious lack of choices.
We quickly found out that Michael and Stephanie had no previous hiking experience. Still, they seemed prepared for the challenge of hiking all the way to Canada. We enjoyed the warm crackling campfire which kept my spirits high as I sipped water I collected from the spring just twenty feet away.
The next morning a lanky guy, black haired, with soft dark brown eyes and tan skin joined us at our camp. He looked like a Cuban version of Gilligan complete with bucket hat. I introduced myself.
“Hi I’m Gourmet.”
“I’m Andy.”
“Look bro, I am so sorry I was singing loud coming down the hill past your tent. I hope I didn’t wake you up.”
“Ha! I loved it! How does the rhyme go again?”
I launched into my silly rap. And that’s how we met.
For the next three days I enjoyed Andy’s company tremendously. While in the tiny town of Warner Springs, we met a local fireman who invited us to pitch our tents in the grassy field next to the fire station. He said we could use their rec room, which had showers. The luxury of the shower and safe place to stay the night lifted my spirits. We made sure to leave the bathroom nicer than we found it. That wasn’t hard. The communal bathroom was trashed with toilet paper on the floor and dirty counter tops by the sinks. I hoped other hikers didn’t make that mess.
That evening, the four of us gazed at the stars. Andy pointed out the constellations, and told us about Greek mythology and comparisons of distant stars. I felt small and insignificant compared to the vast universe. And that is how he earned his name Astro. We all agreed that “Astro Andy” was the perfect trail name, and Astro couldn’t deny it. He took to it immediately. The uncomfortable pause in our conversation made me wonder what my friends were thinking. My adventure had just begun. The desert was so different from the dense forests in Washington state. I felt out of my element, but delighted with good company.
Astro was outfitted with all the new ultralight gear and a myriad of organic food that had been prepared at home. For five days I thought to myself how in the world is a 23 year old kid have higher quality food than “Gourmet?!” Even Astro thought that he might get the name Gourmet. He certainly earned it or perhaps his mom deserves the credit as she helped him with food preparations. I just couldn’t believe it. Most other young people on the trail eat essentially high calorie junk food. This kid was different. Come to find out Astro was taking time off from school at UC Berkeley where he was attending as a Regents scholar in Astro-Physics.
My friends were winding down and I was on my cell phone talking with Jayne who seemed like she was a million miles away. I was standing in the fire station parking lot in my black long underwear and down coat. A police cruiser pulls in and shines his car lights on me. I said “Oh dear, hold on Jayne.” The officer steps out of the car. He’s looks like about thirty years old with sandy blond hair and blue uniform. “He looks at me and frowns and say “What’s up?” I say “I am PCT thru-hiker, my friends and I were invited to stay here from the fire department. Our tents are over there.” I pointed in the direction of the field. He paused which took an eternity. I thought oh no this cop thinks I am some lost crazy bozo wandering aimlessly in his underwear talking on a cell phone. He looks back at me. “Have a good evening.” “Hey, thanks.” Good luck with your hike.”
April 27th, 2012 The day we hiked Fuller Ridge and down to the desert in Cabazon it was stifling hot late in the afternoon. I passed a big cave on the hillside. It was as big as a large living room and it was nice and cool in there. I took a ten minute break and then walked down to the desert. The switchbacks were annoyingly long and spaced about ten feet apart so you weren’t actually covering much ground. It didn’t just seem like it either. The trail was actually not made properly in that section. In any case, it took forever to reach the desert floor. I got to the road and waited for Astro. And waited. And waited. Over two hours had gone by. We had just been hiking together about 45 minutes ago. I started to worry. Perhaps I should go back for him and make sure he’s ok? I put a time limit on it and sure enough, just ten minutes later Astro comes bounding down the trail. “Oh hi Gourmet!” I said “What happened to you? You ok?” “Oh yeah, I took a wonderful nap in that cave back there. It was a perfect rest spot. I couldn’t pass it up.” I smiled, relieved that he was finally down to the valley floor. We looked up at Mt San Jacinto with its snowy peaks and laughed at the fact that yesterday it was snowing on us a bit up on Fuller Ridge and now it’s 100 degrees just one day later! Off we went down the road. The sun starting to set into the evening with just two more miles to trail angels house. As the sun started to dip into the horizon we could see the lights of the small neighborhoods in Cabazon. We were approaching another wonderful couple who take in hikers by the dozens. Ziggy and the Bear are an elderly couple who are immensely generous. There were little homemade signs on the trail leading up to their house. “Trail Angels that way with an arrow pointing in the direction. It was slightly confusing in the dark, but Astro and I eventually figured it out. We entered the side gate of the small home. There were portapotties on the side of the house. A legitimate sign that these people knew what they were doing with hosting hikers. Their back yard had a giant open tent with comfortable chairs, big tables with food, computer table, charging station for electronics, and hiker boxes full of hiker food and gear.
Ziggy greeted us warmly and took our photos and instructed us to sign their register. She gave us a quick tour of their backyard where hikers just grabbed a mat or rug and plopped down anywhere they like. We sat down to chat with some other new hikers that we hadn’t met. Just minutes later Ziggy returns with cauldron of hot water for a hot foot soak. I decided Ziggy was the nicest person on the planet. I immediately removed my shoes and dipped my feet in to the water. I leaned my head back and relaxed my entire body. I exhaled and thought to myself “I am so sorry feet. I am abusing you everyday. Look feet, If you make it to Canada I will give you foot baths everyday for at least a week!” I turned to Astro. He had a look of concern on his face. “Astro, are OK?” “My foot is killing me.” “Really? But you seemed to be walking fine all day. Do you have blisters?” “No, but I am having some pain in the bottom of my foot.” He pointed to it. Ziggy returned with another small tub of hot water for Astro. He closed his eyes, and put his head in his hands. Astro looked played out. He looked like he was in pain and not simply exhausted from a challenging day.
In the morning I decided I’d wait for Astro. I wasn’t in a rush to leave, but I did want to make some miles that day. I had some fresh fruit, chatted with some of the hikers, and slipped a $20 in the donation box. It is customary to leave a gratuity of at least $20 for anybody that houses you on trail. It is one of the unspoken rules of thru-hikers. I walked back over to Astro. “What up Astro? You feeling any better?” “No my foot really hurts. I am not going anywhere today.” “But...we’re hiking together.” “I am sorry Gourmet, you should definitely hike though. I don't want to hold you up." There was no arguing with him. "I understand. Well I hope you can figure out what's wrong with your foot. I will text you in a couple of days when I get to Big Bear. I sure hope you can catch up to me again bro. We got to hike together again. That was so much fun.” “Yeah, sure was. Speaking of Big Bear, my mom is going to meet me there. We have a place close to there perhaps you could join us at our cabin and take a zero?” The term “zero” means zero miles for the day. “That sounds amazing! We’ll see what happens.” He smiled and I gave him a big hug, latched the gate on the side of the house and walked into the desert. Looking back at Mt San Jacinto looked like a giant. I couldn’t believe I had walked right by it just yesterday. I felt terrible about leaving my friend back there, but I was determined to push on. That is the life of thru-hiking. Hikers, and randomly captivating people seem to pop in and out of your life.
Days later ran into Astro and his mom in Big Bear. We only got to spend a few hours together, as I had already taken two zeros there running around trying to get all my chores done including groceries, laundry, post office, and library if you are lucky. I never did get to hike with Astro again on my initial quest for Canada. He was a dear friend. Occasionally I’d ask other hikers if they had seen him. Nothing. Infrequently I call his name to the hills. “Aaaaaaaaastrooooooo!” Seriously where was he? I called his phone several times during my trip, and left him notes in the trail registers with words of encouragement. I texted him with “Yo homie, we chillin’ thinking about you. Namaste, Gourmet.” He said that he’d gotten off trail for a few weeks. His text messages were short and cryptic. It seemed like he was having a hard time, but why? He was only twenty three years old with the best gear. I never did figure what was really going on with Astro until after my hike was finished.
