100

100 miles (160.934 km)

Pics on the french page here

After a full day of rest, we are ready to leave. Everyone except me: a package I was waiting for didn't arrive. Today's goal: a water cache, the only possible water point for over 50km. The others leave first to avoid the heat that's coming. To start, I hitchhike, and a retired couple stops to pick up me and another hiker, Ezechiel, whom I've already crossed paths with several times. They even go ten kilometers further to help us get back on the trail.

Today we climb back everything we descended to get to Julian. I receive a message on my GPS beacon warning me of an aggressive rattlesnake on the trail. Alone, I realize that I take more time to take pictures, videos.

The elevation gain is quite significant, but I am confident. I push on my poles, reach a cruising speed, and suddenly lose my balance. One of my poles gave way under my weight. I look, and one of the hinges is broken.

I stop. I'm perplexed and disappointed. I expected my poles to give out; they've already traveled to Compostela, and carbon fiber poles are known to be fragile, but not after a week. I've been climbing the mountain for two hours already. Thoughts are racing through my head.

I hesitate to turn back. It would be the most prudent thing to do. But hikers hate backtracking. It's sunny, it shouldn't rain anymore. Without my poles, I can't pitch my tent, but I'll probably be able to sleep under the stars. It's a bit scary. But tomorrow, I'll be passing by a road. At worst, I could go buy some. That way, I won't lose my friends. At worst worst, if a storm started, there would be a kind soul to shelter me; we are many with two-person tents for personal use. These are easy arguments, but I have a lot of hesitation before starting again. I remember that I was a scout. I tinker with the pole by wedging a piece of wood in place of the hinge and finally, I start again.

I'm alone, with my frail pole under my weight. Sand, hills, and in the distance, a straight road in the valley as I turn along the ridges. Suddenly, I shout with joy. In front of me is the cutest little dinosaur in the world. I ask him, "What are you?"

It's a horned lizard. I interpret it as a reward for my perseverance. Magical thinking comes easily to hikers. Finally, around 6 p.m., I reach the others. Just before arriving, my homemade hinge breaks.

There is no water source until tomorrow, but a well-stocked water cache is a little off from the camp. I take just the 3L I think I'll need for dinner, breakfast, and a morning.

Then we all eat together, the four boys, and five other hikers we spent time with in Julian: Kiki, Brady, Melvin, Kelsey, and Janick. After dinner, we do a collective stretching session. And then it's time to sleep.

I'm the only one not pitching my tent. I put my groundsheet, my mattress, my sleeping bag, and that's it.

Night falls quickly. My bivouac is in the middle of the others' tents, but they seem far away now. I make a mental list of the animals that could come snuggle in my sleeping bag: spiders, scorpions, rattlesnakes, pumas, bears. As usual, I think at least my death will be cool. Killed by a bear, it's not written on every gravestone. And then I fall asleep.

I wake up several times in the middle of the night. Still not dead. The stars above me are blooming marvellous. Everything's peaceful. I still can't sleep between four and five in the morning, but I listen to the silence. I'm starting to get cold. The night is clear, but even though we're in the middle of the desert, there's a ton of condensation that's soaking my quilt, making the insulation ineffective. It's 4 or 5 degrees outside. And then the day comes. I'm slow to get going after again a tiring night.

After climbing all day yesterday, today we're going downhill for a big part of the morning, and at one point, we pass the 100-mile marker. Only 25 times that to go, and I'll be in Canada. I reckon I'm up to the task. As I'm taking photos with Janick and Melvin, a hiker passes us without stopping. It's Thomas, a Belgian. Clearly, he's not impressed.

Finally, we reach the road, where we can get a ride to Montezuma Market. There's also a water source, a faucet for horses, with clear water.

Montezuma Market is a little grocery store, well-stocked for PCT hikers. I find some beef jerky, but also camel and alligator meat, which of course i have to buy. I see a tube of Smarties paste and think it's going to be chocolate like european smarties, but it turns out to be a red paste of sugar. In the States, Smarties are sour candies, live and learn.

I tinker with my hiking pole, and with one of my tent pegs, I manage to fix the hinge that had come loose in one of the carbon tubes, and I can attach it on the other side. My pole is repaired. That saves me from having to buy a new one, because even though there's good gear, they don't have the model I want.

Practical info

There's only one water cache on the road, no source: check your supplies before setting off, or plan accordingly.

Montezuma Market will pick you up on a phone call, and take you back to the PCT (tel: 619 693 7536). You can also stay in a nearby "Resort", the Mountain Valley Retreat, which has a good reputation.