PCT WEEK 5 – Hazard Pay – Myles From Nowhere

June 3, 2025

Week 5 was painful. Although I’d mostly found my groove hiking solo again and was doing my best to stay focused on my goals and not get distracted with “playing the game” or racing from town to town, I found it a bit difficult to focus on the present whilst in so much physical discomfort.

From long days in the sun and being constantly bombarded by hurricane winds, to battling an excruciatingly painful eye infection, and popping blisters nearly every day, it’d be an understatement to say that my body took a beating this week. I’m exhausted and it’s honestly so hard not to worry about the challenges ahead.

Although the Desert/SoCal section is almost over, the trail is not going to get any easier. I won’t be as worried about long water carries or sun exposure while in the Sierra, but I’ll certainly still be battling blisters, hunger, and soon miles of snow and serious elevation.

For now, I’d like to take a moment to recognize my achievements thus far and to express my gratitude for the experiences, good and bad, that Southern California has had to offer me. I’ve been shocked with the sheer diversity of this section. Every day has been full of surprises. From the mountains to the desert floor, So Cal is teeming with life and beauty. The terrain has been challenging and occasionally unforgiving, but also awe inspiring and enlightening. The desert is raw, rugged, and undeniably beautiful.

The last 566 miles have taught me a lot about myself, my priorities, and my fellow hikers. I’ve learned that I like to spend my days alone, but that I also love to share as many moments as I can with other hikers and angels. We’re all in this together, although often for different reasons. It’s great to meet so many people from so many different walks of life. I could never have this sort of social exposure at home, and to that end I’m truly “seeking discomfort” as originally planned. I can’t wait to see how we’re all doing and feeling in another 500 miles!

I started the week with a long, hot hike from Agua Dulce, up and over several mountains into Green Valley. It was a 25 mile day and a pretty decent suffer fest. I initially made the decision to push so far from Agua Dulce because of how many hikers were camped at the Oasis the night prior. I felt like I had gone too far into the “bubble” and felt the urge to get as far ahead as I could so I could have some nights alone. That didn’t really end up working out. By the time I got to Green Valley to camp, I realized another 14 hikers were right behind me and had their eyes set on the same spot. It was a busy night at the Green Valley Fire Station that night!

Although I was bummed to not have a campsite to myself, I ended up meeting some really nice people who I ended up camping near for the rest of the week. It really is nice knowing people are around, even if you aren’t hiking with them or making specific plans to camp together. A group of hikers really doesn’t have to spend every waking moment together to be a “trail family.”

The next day was defined by one prominent feature – Poodle Dog Bush. PDB, as we call it on trail, is the only thing that scares hikers more than an empty grocery store. It’s the most dangerous plant on the Desert portion of the PCT and, unfortunately, a plant that many hikers fail to identify in time. It looks and smells somewhat like Cannabis, but touching it can cause serious skin irritation and allergic reactions, apparently much more severe than poison oak.

Unfortunately for me, I failed to read a warning on Farout (the app we use for navigating the trail and communicating about various resources and hazards). The warning advised hikers to take a road walk alternative to avoid a 4 mile stretch of trail overgrown with PDB. I ended up hiking that whole stretch not knowing about the alternative route. I felt like I was a spy in some 90s action flic, dodging lasers left and right. A discarded sun hoody on the side of the trail spoke volumes – someone must have panicked after getting a little too close to the PDB. Did they hike all the way to town shirtless after that? I can’t say I’d blame them either way, this stuff is real scary.

After getting to camp, I had another obstacle to overcome – getting water out of a cistern with an opening just narrow enough to fit the top half of my body into. Several hikers before me had failed to fit into the opening to get water – I took this as a challenge. Sure enough it was a tight fit. I had to take a deep breath in and could only get as far as my hips, which fortunately was just enough for me to to reach in and scoop two liters of water into my water bladder. I had to take another very deep breath to back out of the cistern. I wonder if anyone has been stuck in one of these before? Do animals every crawl in there and die? The things we do for water out here! (Oh and I hit 500 miles today – that’s almost 20% of the trail!!)

After a pretty restless night battling the wind and getting some dust in my eye, I got moving around 9am – a very late start for a hiking day. Besides my eye hurting a bit, it was a great day. My next stop was the famed Hiker Town, the sort of shanty town community that represents the transition from the desert mountains of the Angeles Forest to the real, raw, painfully hot and dry Mojave desert.

After descending down to the desert below, the trail was suddenly flat – something I had never experienced up until this moment on the PCT. I approached Hiker Town, not quite knowing what to expect. Nothing could ever have really prepared me for this place. I had read a lot of mixed reviews over the past few weeks, but it was truly so much stranger than Farout comments or reddit posts could have ever prepared me for.

To this day, I don’t actually know who owns Hiker Town or anything about how or when it came to be, and I honestly don’t even want to know. In summary, Hiker Town is a sort of basecamp for PCT hikers preparing to start the aqueduct section of trail – a very flat, 20ish mile hike along the LA aqueducts (which essentially direct water from the Sierra Nevada to Los Angeles through a 340 mile long series of pipelines and canals.

The aqueduct section is notorious for being extremely dangerous, as hikers have no opportunities to shelter from the sun or heat of the Mojave Desert. That being said, most hikers do this section of trail overnight – many turning it into a bit of a rave, using glowsticks, electronic music, and psychedelics to guide them from Hiker Town to the mountains on the other side of the aqueduct. Being so close to the end of the desert section of the PCT seems like a great excuse for a little party, although I’m not sure if night hiking on unfamiliar terrain and psychedelic drugs are the best mix, but HYOH. (hike your own hike)

Anyways, back to Hiker Town. (Apologies in advance for a long a read here..) This place is beyond strange. Upon arriving, I was greeted by a dozen or so hikers hiding from the sun under a large tree. Most of these hikers intended to hike out that night to complete the aqueduct section. I asked who I should speak to about camping there that night and got mixed responses. One hiker suggested I just put my tent up in the back and not say anything, another suggested I wait for a woman named Martha to come so I could pay her. Before I could do either, an old man and his strange semi-shirtless companion appeared and shouted “STORE. WHO WANTS TO GO TO THE STORE?” Assuming this would be my last chance to take advantage of such an opportunity, I raised my hand. I made my way to a truck out back and was joined by three other hikers.

The other hikers made their way into the backseat of the truck while I was distracted petting a cat. The driver told me to get in the back of the truck, as his buddy was going to ride shotgun, so I obliged and hopped in the bed of the truck. This drew a very unexpected response as both men started shouting at me angrily to get inside of the truck. “I thought you said to get in the back,” I said. The driver’s friend directed me to sit in the middle seat up front and then asked where I was from. He then says “Oh of course, New Mexico. You can just do whatever the fuck you want there.” He then explained that riding in the bed of a truck in California was illegal and would get them a $1k ticket if they were caught.

The rest of the ride was pretty awkward and uncomfortable as the driver and his friend made crude dick and ball jokes and recounted stories of falling asleep while driving on the freeway. After the ride, a couple hikers pointed out that the driver was swerving well into the left lane for most of the 10 minute drive down to the store.

The store itself was pretty weird as well. The front room was a cafe/mini grocery store stocked with unpriced random hiker snacks and treats, many of which were clearly just purchased at Wal-Mart (Great Value brand). This was later confirmed when I saw a hiker dressed in hot pink stocking products onto the shelves from Walmart shopping bags. (Does he work here now? Is this what happens to bad hikers?) The back room was a sort of dining room with a full size keyboard and a handful of other instruments. Upon entering, two hikers were attempting to play “Wagon Wheel” on guitar and cello, but both stopped playing right as I entered and stood there frozen in silence until I backed out of the room.

After ordering a couple of tacos from the cafe, I went out to the patio out front. I walked in on a very loud conversation between an Israeli man and a Japanese hiker. The man was trying to ask the hiker about the legality of marijuana in Japan, but language barriers made the conversation very confusing and drawn out. Before leaving, the man whispered to the cafe attendant that the hiker was from Hiroshima – she clearly didn’t know what he was talking about, so he elaborated “you know the city the Americans bombed in WW2. She responded “oh no, poor thing..”

After getting our food, I joined a few hikers in the dining room. The hiker I had seen stocking shelves earlier sat at our table and started ranting, uninterrupted for at least 20 minutes. (Something he would end up doing almost every day for the next two weeks moving forward) For the sake of time, I’ll skip the details here, but there are some pretty hot headed, self centered people on this trail. We sat there for another hour or so wondering if we’d ever get a ride back, as there was clearly a gap in communication regarding the subject of returning to Hiker Town.

Eventually Martha showed up and about 8 of us piled into her van. When we got back to Hiker Town, I asked her about renting a “cabin” for the night and she showed me to a little shed dressed up in spray paint to look like an old western bank. (The whole “town” was themed like this, with a sheriff’s office, salloon, etc.) Inside the small shed was a tiny bed that looked like it was straight out of the 19th century and behind it a wall adorned with plastic guns for some reason? I didn’t ask any questions. Martha put her hands out and said “you pay me now. $20.”

The next morning, I made the mistake of going back to the store for breakfast, where things were just as weird as the day before. I eventually got a ride back to Hiker Town and spent the rest of the day sort of just biding my time and waiting for sunset. I also tried my hardest not to touch or rub my left eye, as the irritation from two nights before was now at its very worst, and my eye was bright pink. I resorted to removing my contact lens and wearing my shades all day as it was now extremely sensitive to the sun as well.

Throughout the day, more and more hikers rolled into town and began preparing for the aqueduct hike. Some groups or “tramilies” (Trail families) were getting dressed up in face paint and glow sticks and discussed plans to eat shrooms or drop acid. Other groups discussed plans of hiking all the way to Tehachapi in one go (ie 50 miles nonstop) Myself and a former AT hiker, Clay planned to head out an hour before sunset and just hike as far as we could that night. There was no need to go crazy or do anything reckless right now, especially considering the state of my eye. (Which I was now thinking could actually be pink eye)

Clay and I got back on trail around 6 that evening, just as planned. The trail began by leading us through a few farms and across a handful of dirt roads before dropping us directly onto the LA aqueducts. We walked right on the pipe for the first few miles – it was really strange, but a lot of fun to be on new terrain. We caught an amazing sunset through the joshua trees lining the aqueduct and eventually found ourselves back on a dirt road for the last few hours of the hike. By 10pm, I was exhausted. I couldn’t imagine hiking through the whole night, like some people intended. Clay and I set up camp around midnight and I fell asleep within a few quick minutes- my easiest night of sleep thus far!

After a warm, cozy night cowboy camping (camping without your tent) under the stars, I was ready to push onward through the windfarm and up into the Tehachapi Mountains. I felt great..for the first 5 minutes. Once the hurricane force winds kicked in, it was clear why such a large wind farm (3rd largest in the world) had been installed here in the first place. The wind was out of this world. I could barely keep myself up right.

After pushing for another 5 miles or so, I had made it to the first natural water source of the section. There were a dozen or so hikers already there, hiding in every available patch of shade available. I took an hour or so long siesta while chatting plans with fellow hikers. Many intended to only hike another 10 or so and call it a day, but I wanted out of the desert, so I decided to push an additional 17 or so miles to Willow Springs Road.

The rest of the day’s hike was miserable, to say the very least. My eye was hurting more than ever, the sun was absolutely relentless, and the wind never did really let up, even up into the mountains. The climb up from the spring to the top of the mountains was about 4000ft and was completely exposed the entire time, I really can’t recall a single tree.i had to listen to music the entire time just to push through the pain, a first for my PCT hike.. The climb down was equally miserable, as it led me back into another wind farm. My body was beat and I was ready to be back in my tent.

The following morning, some of the guys I camped with decided they wanted to hitch into town early from Willow Springs Road. I didn’t want to have to come back and complete the 8 mile hike between Willow Springs and the highway later on, so I pushed onward. The next 8 miles were exhausting. Although I probably only spent about 3 hours or less on trail that morning and it was arguable very easy terrain, my feet were juat absolutely killing me. I had a new pinky toe blister and I just couldn’t be bothered to stop to take care of it. I was ready for a hotel room and a hot shower.

I caught up with another hiker friend near the highway and we caught a bus into Mojave, as all the rooms in Tehachapi were sold out for Memorial Day. Both of us intended on taking a “double-zero,” two days off of trail.

I spent my double-zero letting my blisters and my eye heal. Thankfully this was just enough time off of trail for both to improve significantly. I also made my way to the Tehachapi post office to mail some food forward and some assorted excess supplies back home – goodbye stove and cook pot! It’s cold-soaking only from this point forward.