Hot on the trail

Andrew Glazer

* EDITOR’S NOTE: The Daily Pilot is tracking the progress of Costa Mesa

resident Tony DiLorenzo, who making a 2,600-mile hike up the Pacific

Crest Trail to raise awareness about his brother Paul’s rare and

potentially fatal blood disease, thalassemia. The following is an update,

as told to reporter Andrew Glazer.

Somewhere between Agua Dulce, Calif., and the start of the Mojave Desert

11 a.m. June 2 -- Day 34

We’re about ready to work our way through the Mojave Desert.

“Pennsylvania” Jeff [a co-hiker] was behind us, and we didn’t even know.

In fact, we thought he was far ahead.

“Amigo” [another traveling companion] caught up with us at a campsite and

said he had a surprise. I said, “C’mon, man, we don’t have time for this.

I’ve got to catch up with Jeff.” It turns out he was coming up behind us.

So it wasn’t much of a surprise after all.

That night, we stayed at a hostel called the Road House, a converted

greenhouse. We got sodas and beer and steak and potatoes. Pure heaven.

The last two days have been rolling hills. You climb 1,000 feet and then

descend 1,000 feet. You get into the groove.

We’re almost at the gateway to the High Sierras. I’m so excited. The snow

will be melting. There have been certain goals in my head and this is one

of them: to get here.

You’ve got to sit down and regroup now that you’re leaving the desert.

It’s flat in the desert. If you slip, you’re not going to fall down a

cliff. But in the high passes, there’s going to be snow. Some chutes drop

2,000 feet. You have to turn on your motor and be attentive at all times

... which reminds me: Pennsylvania Jeff stepped over a baby rattler the

other day. And he saw a bear, but when he called me over, it took off.

Two weeks ago, my feet were in so much pain, I almost called [my wife]

Alisa over to pick me up for a few days. The ball of my foot [was

hurting] and I favored it, so I got a blister on my other heel.

After a night hike, we stumbled to a country store and ran into the owner

at 6 a.m. He said, “Hey, you want a beer?” So we did. I cut the toes off

my shoes and felt much better.