You may have heard us mention the PCT or Pacific Crest Trail before. It’s the long-distance hiking trail that meanders through the western states of the US from the Mexican border in the south to the Canadian border in the north, covering over 2,500 miles. Whilst I have to rein Darren in a bit with his grandiose ideas of completing the entire trail, I must admit it’s a neat idea to be able to rack up some PCT miles over the years.
As the trail goes virtually right through Santa Clarita, some of the sections closer to home and around Vasquez Rocks have long since been ticked off. We’ve even done some sections further afield – climbing the Sierras in California, further north in the Cascades, and (so I’m told) we’ve apparently completed sections in Oregon and Washington. It really does feel like you can’t venture too far without crossing a PCT designated bit of trail, along with its tell tale triangular sign.
Given all the rain we’ve had in Southern California over the last few months, now is a great time to go hiking. The surrounding mountains are blanketed in shades of green, with the first few early wildflowers starting to make an appearance. Saturday morning brought us a chilly but bright start, a bit breezy but no rain forecast – so a perfect day to continue our PCT journey.
As we set off from our allotted starting point for our PCT walk, about an hour’s drive from home, the conversation soon turned to food. What snacks did we have with us, what would we eat later having walked up an appetite, what should we take to eat in the car on our next road trip, that kind of thing.
Not to mention the bigger dilemma of what to take to drink during our next holiday when we are snowshoeing up to a yurt in the middle of nowhere. Never is the alcohol content to weight ratio more important than when you’re carrying everything you need on your back.
It was only after the half way point of our 10 mile jaunt that I paused to consider the distinct absence of PCT signs. To be fair, (a) the trail isn’t exactly littered with them and (b) I’m not the most observant of people, so I clung to the hope that I’d just missed the signs and there would be one at the start/end, bold as brass. Meanwhile, Darren started to look sheepish. By the time we’d done, feet feeling a little worse for wear after 1,500 feet of climbing, still no sign of a sign.
Back at the ranch, map in hand, Darren concluded that the other path we could see skirting the mountainside – THAT was the PCT. What we had been on was a fire road running in the same general direction just a few miles up. Me… I’m resorting to making my own rules. I mean, what’s the big deal with this PCT thing anyway. I’m sure I once read something about taking The Road Less Traveled…