11th May 2025

I woke to the dawning light and from where I lay could see the sunrise colours being cast across the water. Everyone was doing better this morning and we made good time out of camp.

We took a path off trail to reach Cleghorn Picnic Area where we planned to refill waters. As we crossed the car park a truck drove past with balloons on either side and a grill in the trunk. With the windows rolled down a women called “you guys have arrived just at the right time”; trail magic, and boy was it needed! 

We helped unload the trunk into the picnic area and within half an hour were feasting on breakfast burritos, washed downed with breakfast beers and electrolyte mixes. During our stay we were reunited with Elvis, who ended up walking with us for the rest of the day.

We reluctantly left the picnic area, thanking the angels and ventured up through the hills further away from the lake. I was walking by myself, approaching a switch back when I saw the biggest rattle snake on trail so far. We both surprised each other as I was a metre away from it. I instinctively jumped back while the snake reared its head about a foot off the floor, its rattle sounding angrily. I kept my distance as it glided with its head aloft, its backend coiling to move it sideways into a bush and then out of sight. The feelings were very mutual: neither of us wanted to be in close proximity to the other.

At the next water source, poison oak dotted the area so we congregated under the same shade offered by a singular tree. We kept walking after the short break, leaving behind Heavyweight while he filtered water. Apparently, as soon as we left and he got up a rattle snake darted from where we had all been sitting from behind the poison oak and crossed the trail into the shrubbery. 

The most spectacular part of our day was walking down Little Horsetheif Canyon. From here we could see in a singular view a backdrop of snow capped mountains, dalmatian hills, rolling green hills and, in the foreground, the sandy ridge of the canyon. The scale of these layers of mountains and hills was expansive and the trail showed off the best angles and views, snaking along the canyon ridge then back on itself in a series of switchbacks. A freight train ran across the range, the occasional honk of the horn sounding. 

At the bottom of the canyon we reached Highway 66 and, with it, the PCT McDonalds sign showing the golden arches were only 0.4 miles away. We crashed into a booth, lined the wall next to us with our packs and ordered a mountain of food. McDonald’s has never tasted so good.

We walked to the hotel across the way where we checked into a double queen room. There were six of us and one bathroom meaning we staggered showers. I still had blisters on each foot, one of which had developed a blister within a blister, which was now causing me a lot of pain. I filled a plastic bag up with warm water and salt that I had pinched from McDonald’s, planted it into an empty bin and put my feet in hoping to encourage the blisters to drain.