Remember at Ziggy and the Bear’s place how you thought it was so hot? Well, you know nothing. It’s like an infernal ghost town here, white hot and screaming windy, right here below the Lake Fire, which is going to change the Pacific Crest Trail as we knew it.
Maybe you also remember “the rules.” No smoking, no alcohol, no drugs, no cussing, no arguing, no fun, etc. etc! So many of the hikers complained about the rules, seeming to forget they were staying at someone’s home as a guest. Using the shower, using the water, the wifi, getting a nice dinner and rides… I was always puzzled about that attitude, since it did usually end up being pretty fun inside the fence!
I volunteered here two seasons, then helped Zig and Bear move up north to the Sierra foothills, then lived with them a bit, then somehow became the only hiker left in the world in touch with Bear, who still calls me almost every month to check in. What a doll. He’s told me the story of how he got to be known as “The Bear,” and it goes way back to when he was a trail angel in Anza, California. Some hikers were misbehaving in his yard, so he got angry and told them to leave. For some reason they argued back, like “Well, old man, what are you going to do about it?” Bear threw their tents and all their gear over the fence, to the shock and delight of other Pacific Crest Trail hikers inside the fence. They told him he was like an angry bear, and the name stuck. He loves telling that story.
In Whitewater the fence is very necessary to keep the ferocious hot winds out. Inside the fence Bear arranged rows of army-style tents to prevent hikers pitching their own, and was constantly out there reinforcing them and repairing wind damage. He really loved hosting hikers. Ziggy, not so much. But it was a great stop on the PCT, a classic stop for 15 years (2000-2015).