The greatest single discovery of Noah’s trip so far may be the Warner Springs Ranch.
Every two-bit hotel in the rural West calls itself a “resort.” Warner Springs Ranch really is one, and it’s marvelous. The resort, a fenced community that reminds me in some ways of the old TV show “The Prisoner,” also loves Pacific Crest Trail hikers. Because Noah was a thru-hiker, we got a very comfortable double room in a classy little adobe cabin for $65 for the night, with all resort rights and privileges. The main one being the amazing hot spring-fed swimming pool.
Tuesday afternoon I met Noah on the PCT a couple miles south of Warner Springs and walked back to the trailhead with him. After a shower and an afternoon of lounging in our room, which was cool as a cavern despite no air conditioning because of the thick adobe walls, we ran into Brian (Noah finally got to meet him) and a seriously fast thru-hiker who calls himself Malto, for dinner in one of the three dining rooms. Then we all repaired to the pool for some serious soaking.
It was a magic evening. Most of the people in the pool after dinner were PCT thru-hikers, including a couple equestrians doing the entire trail. I’d met them before: Chance and Trish. The hot water pool reeks pleasantly of sulfur and old-fashioned mineral baths; get too hot and just jump into the (also) Olympic-sized regular pool to thermoregulate.
The grounds are elegant, with mature trees giving shade to a village-sized complex of buildings.
What a place!
This morning Noah headed north on the trail and I began driving north to Oregon — what a wrenching goodbye! — and an attempt to return to day to day life. (Before embracing reality, though, I stopped near Idyllwild to hide a food and water cache in the woods for him to pick up in a few days.)
Last night, when we were talking about the trip so far, Noah said that every day of the PCT so far had been completely different. That’s certainly been true for me.
That all continued this evening when, a little before 9, he called from his camp 19 miles north of Warner Springs. He was laughing as he told the story of stopping at a trail shelter where, word had it, a PCT angel liked to make dinner for hikers. Except this time the angel wasn’t there. Two men he left in charge of his place made a great steak dinner for Noah and another hiker who was walking with him. Then, to both hikers’ amazement, the two guys expressed some long-simmering dispute in a fight that involved a screwdriver, a knife and a baseball bat. The other hiker finally drove the loser to a hospital; Noah washed his dishes quickly and headed up the trail as far as he could get.
Every day certainly has been different.