Blessed by ‘Trail Angels’

Setting a tall glass of iced lemonade on the patio table, John Krall takes a look at his surroundings and smiles. “This is great,” he said. “I really needed this.”

One month into a planned four-month solo trek from the Mexican border to Canada, and one day after his first shower and cold beverage in more than a week, Krall looks as though he is truly in heaven.

And why not. Hosting his brief respite from the rigors of life on the Pacific Crest Trail are Donna and Jeff Saufley. The Agua Dulce couple, along with their 13-year-old son, Thomas, are among the newest and most gracious “trail angels.”

Scattered indiscriminately from the Mojave Desert to the Olympic Peninsula, trail angels offer hikers a lifeline between the wilderness and the world they left behind. For those hardy enough to take on the 2,650-mile Pacific Crest Trail, trail angels are unsung heroes who often mean the difference between making it through and bailing out.

From water, shelter and tips about local terrain to rides to the hospital for medical treatment, the Saufleys say there is little they won’t do for hikers in need, as long as the visitors leave a message in the family’s guest book. Perhaps most important, though, is the Saufleys’ willingness to lend a friendly ear and offer weary trekkers encouragement to keep on going.

During Krall’s 24-hour stay in Agua Dulce, the 32-year-old from Mukilteo, Wash., showered, washed his clothes, ate a pizza, enjoyed some good conversation and, most important, he said, recharged his batteries for the long walk ahead.

“The description of the next section in the guidebook sounds pretty awful: hot, waterless and ugly,” said Krall, who left his job with Boeing to realize a childhood fantasy of spending months alone in the wilderness. “Jeff and Donna are great,” he said. “They’ve given me the break I needed to face that.”

* “Relaxing on a soft couch. Rocking out to Jimi Hendrix after a warm shower. It doesn’t get any better than this.”

--Mike Rothery

*

‘Welcome to hiker haven,” says Donna Saufley, greeting a visitor. For two years, the 1 1/3-acre family property has doubled as a way station for more than 125 trekkers. “Some of the hikers have dubbed it the Agua Dulce Hilton.”

With two of the family’s five dogs at her heels, Saufley proudly shows off the air-conditioned two-bedroom trailer that from May through July is reserved for hikers on the trail.

Among its amenities, the 30-year-old trailer includes fresh towels stacked neatly in the bathroom, a telephone, television, refrigerator and stereo.

“One of the things they usually miss is music,” Saufley said.

Two “hiker boxes” containing a trove of materials left by previous visitors trying to shed weight in their packs are up for grabs. The contents of the boxes range from tin plates and granola to powdered Kool-Aid and energy bars.

The trailer has no working kitchen, but the Saufleys, who own an electrical contracting business, often invite guests to dine with them or drive them into Santa Clarita to an all-you-can-eat buffet.

“It’s amazing,” Jeff Saufley says. “These guys come off the trail and they have voracious appetites.”

Most of the those who make their way to the Saufleys have been tipped off by other hikers or hear about the trail angels at a nearby real estate office that serves as a pickup spot for supplies.

Stays can range from an afternoon nap to five days or more in the case of those slowed by injuries or inclement weather. Most hikers stay one or two nights. However long the stay, the Saufleys never charge for their hospitality.

“All we ask is that they write in our book,” Donna Saufley says, pointing to a small journal filled with thank-you notes, poems and drawings. “It’s such an incredible journey that they’re on. To get some kindness, some support, you can see it in their eyes how much they appreciate it. That’s enough for us.”

* “Dear Abby, Dear Abby, I’ve got poison oak.

I can’t find the trail and my toes are all broke.

Each mornin’ I wake to a terrible smell,

If I weren’t agnostic, I’d think this was hell.”

--Andrea Gabriel

*

“When you come out of the wilderness with only a pack on your back, and you smell like a week on the trail and for all intents and purposes you look like a vagrant, it’s so important to have someone know who you are and what you’re doing,” says Bob Ballou, the executive director of the Pacific Crest Trail Assn.

The 2,600-member nonprofit group helped get the trail built and now exists to protect it from encroachment and provide the public with information about trail conditions.

Throughout its journey, the trail holds to the crest of the mountains and includes some of the most rugged and breathtaking terrain in California, Oregon and Washington.

According to Ballou, about 150 men, women and children attempt to hike the entire trail each year. Only a dozen or so usually make it all the way. This year’s El Nino condition has led to an unusually heavy snowpack in the Sierra, making a complete traverse of the trail all but impossible.

Ballou said that without the assistance of trail angels, even fewer hikers would complete the trail.

“Having that kind of support along the way can help you get through the mental challenges, but it’s also so important from a physical standpoint,” he said. “When you’ve been out on the trail for 500 or 700 miles, you can really use a little help.”