October 18th Near Barrel Spring to Scissors Crossing

For those interested in the flora and fauna of the southern desert section, you need look no further than the photos. Yucca, sagebrush, cacti of various shapes and sizes, withered grasses, brown stalks and stems, and the occasional stunted tree represent the plant population. Hairy tarantulas and venomous rattlesnakes are probably the most common denizens. All of this was part of the morning walk to Scissors Crossing, the trail clearly visible, stretching out before me. The clouds and mist were gone and the sun was out, but the temperature remained reasonably cool. I could gauge my progress by the number of cattle gates I crossed. 5th gate was yesterday, so working backwards, 'cause I'm a southbounder, there were 4th, 3rd, 2nd and 1st. By the time I reached 1st gate, it was only a few more miles until the steep and winding descent to Highway 78. The hitches to and from Julian would thankfully be my last. As I stood on the shoulder a white van passed. I knew I had my ride when it returned a few minutes later. A local preacher and his wife had had an attack of conscience leaving me standing on the side of the road, so they flipped a U-turn and came on back. I was grateful for the ride, but could have done without the wife's tales of birds crapping on her car and an owl shitting in her face. I believe those are stories best left to loved ones, not shared with perfect strangers. But, maybe that's just me. Halfway up the mountain, the marine layer returned, so once I was in Julian it was socked in and rather chilly. Julian is famous for its apple pies, but it was apple fritters that I wanted. Searched all over town, but couldn't find a frickin' fritter. Inconceivable. Come on Julian, diversify a little! Maps and resupply safely in my pack I road walked most of the way back as there were few cars coming this way out of town. Once on the flats, a pickup that was zooming by suddenly veered onto the soft shoulder and braked, throwing up a cloud of dust and gravel. A dramatic end to my hitchhiking days and a load off my mind. The man, finished with work, was returning to his home in Borrego Springs. The good Samaritan dropped me off at Scissors Crossing. Although I could have made some more progress up the trail, I decided to camp early because there was a water cache here and level ground to sleep on. There was even a chair upon which I sat and read the paper I'd purchased in town, catching up on news from the outside world. At bedtime, the moon was high in the sky, the stars were shining, but clouds were moving in.

Anza Borrego Desert State Park

Desert Tarantula

20 Miles