Tehachapi Pass, Pacific Crest

Waking up from a deep sleep, I popped out of my tent to see that the sun had already begun peering through the trees. I stretched, feeling the stiffness in my legs from the day before, and then brewed myself a strong cup of coffee. The morning air was crisp, and the warmth from the coffee seeped into me, giving me the jolt I needed. Breakfast was simple — a mix of oats and peanut butter, enough to fuel me for a few hours. Packing my tent, I checked that all was in place and readied for the day's hike.

As I gathered my things, I was glad to see that my food was safe. I'd hung it using the recommended bear canisters and the hanging method, and everything remained untouched. It felt like a small victory after the effort of getting it all sorted. These precautions are necessary on the trail because, in areas like this, wildlife is always on the lookout for food. Bears, in particular, are quite clever and known to get bold, often trying to access unprotected food. Using a canister and hanging food high on a tree branch is the best way to avoid this. It protects my food and ensures that the bears' natural behaviour remains intact, preventing them from becoming reliant on human food.

With my pack secured, I set off. The trail quickly entered the brushy expanse of Sierra Pelona, a mountain ridge bordering the San Andreas Fault to the north, with the wide Soledad Canyon separating it from the San Gabriel Mountains. The climb began almost immediately, my calves protesting as I gained elevation. The scent of dry earth and chaparral filled the air, while yucca plants thrived in the harsh desert climate, their deep roots reaching underground for moisture.

As I continued, I moved into the vast expanse of Antelope Valley, where the Mojave Desert seemed to stretch forever. This section of the trail followed the Los Angeles Aqueduct for miles, a long, covered concrete channel snaking through the barren land. Hiking beside it was both surreal and exhausting. This critical waterway, bringing life to millions, cut through one of the driest stretches of the trail. The path here was relentless, exposed, and hot, with little shade from the sun's intensity. Hikers before me had warned of the challenge, expecting long miles over cracked earth, with only the occasional breeze to offer relief.

Despite the harshness, life still thrived. I spotted mule deer grazing, hawks circling overhead, and, in a burst of colour, a Steller's jay darted through the trees, its blue feathers vivid against the desert's muted tones.

After the woodlands of Sierra Pelona, the trail heads north for a hot, dry hike across the San Andreas Fault Zone and the western Mojave Desert. The San Andreas Fault, a boundary between two tectonic plates, stretches for about 750mi (1,200km), with its most striking section in the Carrizo Plain, where it forms a deep, raised scar. Passing wind farms, the trail climbs to Tehachapi Pass, which crosses the Tehachapi Mountains and marks the boundary with the Sierra Nevada range. Before American settlement, the pass was a trade route for the Kitanemuk people.