20240618 Lake Isabella to Kennedy Meadows (mile 703)

When you see a bear, the correct response is to stand your ground and yell loudly. Black bears can, in theory, be found all throughout the Pacific Crest Trail, however it is usually assumed that they do not pose a problem for hikers until the end of the southern California section when the trail heads into more wooded and mountainous regions. The first bear we encountered was at Chimney Creek, around a day before we reached Kennedy Meadows - the traditional starting point of many hikers' Sierra adventures.

The bear had been forewarned in the user comments on the FarOut app, the GPS map used by 99% of people on the trail. A comment from 'Rattlin' Bog' in particular came to mind

"There was a young black bear hanging around this area. Super curious and unafraid of any noise we made. Definitely sniffing out our food."

Coming from a country with no natural predators larger than a badger, the prospect of meeting a bear so soon, especially one so clearly socialised to humans did not fill me with glee. Sure enough, no sooner had we paused to refill our water from the creek, did the calls of "Hey bear!" erupt from over some nearby shrubs. The bear had appeared and was nosing around a father and daughter who had already set up camp. Fortunately we had arrived at the creek in strength and nine of us rushed over to help.

The word 'help' is doing some heavy lifting - the Americans who were used to dealing with bears sprung into action, waving arms, banging sticks, and yelling loudly. The rest of us (Aussies, Kiwis, French and Brits), though we meant well, were not much help.

Having nearly made it safely through the southern California section, it was not clear to us whether the bear was the final boss of the desert or the first boss of the Sierra. One thing that was certain was that the bear was troublesome. It had already been fitted with a collar, suggesting it had been a problem somewhere else and been dumped here to alleviate the issue. The consequences of this, so obvious to us, were that despite nearly a dozen of us yelling at it, the bear continued to sniff in the direction of the two tents that clearly contained calorie-rich food. Strafing to and fro, trying to outwit us, the bear painted a sad picture of a young creature, possibly not long out of adolescence, that didn't really know what to do. Sometimes it would scarper off, only to appear again, big nose peering from around a small tree, trying to gauge if we could still see it, oblivious to its enormous cinnamon hairy body still visible through the leaves.

Eventually the hikers who had pitched up by the creek managed to pack away their tent and we all made a hasty escape further up the trail. Everyone was tired at this point, and it was getting dark. Grace and I had both already done a respectable 20 miles that day, and by the time we crashed into a campsite hours later we had upped this to 27. I remember the pain of waking up the next morning at 5am and dragging myself out of my sleeping bag. If ever there was a day we deserved a late start it was that, but Kennedy Meadows beckoned.

Kennedy Meadows South (KMS), to give it its proper name, is an easy place to kill time and a difficult one to get away from. It's often said that a successful thru-hike involves not getting "vortexed" in town, and KMS is as big a vortex as any other.

Several hours drive from anywhere, KMS comprises a couple of small private businesses a few miles apart, plus a smattering of private residencies dotted around the hills.

KMS also signifies the first milestone in our planned review process, having tracked our spending and mileage since Campo.

In summary:

• Average miles per day: 13.7
• Average spend per day: $88
• Highest miles day: 27.2
• Highest section average miles per day: 18.7 (Agua Dulce to Tehachepi)
• Highest section spend per day: $162 (Agua Dulce to Tehachepi)
• Lowest section average miles per day: 10 (Warner Springs to I-10)
• Lowest section spend per day: $33 (Walker Pass to Crabtree Meadows)

Compared to our original targets of 17.7 miles per day (including zeroes) and $84 per day, we were roughly 31% behind on our mileage and 6% behind on budget.

Assuming that the dotted blue line is our budgeted spend, the orange solid line shows that we have seen consistent overspend from week to week compared to what was planned. When considering our slower pace, this is further compounded. By spending more and walking slower, we risk not being able to complete the trail.

Amongst the gloom there is some cause for hope, however.

1. Our pace is picking up. Neither of us started the trail as athletes, and while I have recently caught myself gawping at my bulging calf muscles in the reflection of shop windows, I did not look like that two months ago.
2. We expect to start spending less. It is generally acknowledged that the desert is expensive. With a vast bubble of other excitable hikers around you, and a town stop seemingly every couple of days, there is a tendency to tap tap tap without thinking. As the trail goes on and the herd thins out, and the towns become farther apart, the number of opportunities you have to spunk away cash decreases. People get injured and drop out. Everyone becomes more focused on the matter at hand. (Hilariously we also discovered in Tehachepi that we had been tracking spending in GBP against a USD budget, and so had mistakenly thought that we were comfortably in the black for the first 500 miles.)

Back in Kennedy Meadows, we tried not to dwell on the worrying data emerging from the budget spreadsheet, instead dwelling on the worrying bears emerging from the bushes.

As we got set up and ready to head back out on trail we looked up to see another SpaceX launch trailing across the dusky sky.

"I think they're coming to probe us."

"Yes!"