Day Forty Seven

Today's miles: 7
Total miles: 705

Since we were only four miles away from Kennedy Meadows, we had no reason to wake up early. We slept in until the late hour of 6:30, and then took an easy two-hour stroll into town. The miles leading up to Kennedy Meadows were something of a precursor: the terrain mellowed out, the sand changed to soft grasses and rocks, and glimpses of the gray-blue mountains in the distance were enough to peak our interest and raise our excitement. By the time we reached the 700 mile mark, we were practically jumping up and down.

We made it! We made it! We made it to the end of the desert!

We soon came upon a road and took it to reach trail angel Tom's place, a hiker haven that looked like a huge junkyard but was actually a backyard full of old trailers for sleeping, an internet cafe, an amphitheater to watch movies, and a large kitchen full of trail angel volunteers making a pancake breakfast. There were more hikers here than we had seen since kick-off, and we slowly wandered among them, trying to find our way. Then one of the vintage trailer doors opened, and Focus, wearing a Hawaiian shirt and patterned skirt, stepped out.

"FARCUS!!" Katie and I yelled, giving him hugs. "Farcus" was a name we often called him in jest. It stemmed from his Aussie accent, for when he introduced himself to new people as "Focus", they often misunderstood him and thought he was saying "Farcus," instead. He had embraced the joke and often signed his name in the registers now as Focus/Farcus.

Focus gave us a little tour of the place and said there was general store just down the road to pick up our mail drops and buy supplies, but other than that, Kennedy Meadows had nothing. It was a very desolate area, plopped right between the desert and the Sierras, and catered almost entirely to thru-hikers.

Sansei, Katie and I walked down to the general store, where we happily reunited with Rotisserie, who was waiting for us with a bowl of fruit, chips, and homemade guacamole. We rehashed our horrible experiences between Walker Pass and here, and promised her that she had missed the worst part of the trail so far.

We picked up our mail drops in the store and took over one of the picnic tables outside, spreading all of our food out so that we could repack it. One of the major changes about gear once you hit Kennedy Meadows is that every hiker is required to carry a bear vault. A bear vault is a large, plastic container with a twist lid that is made for carrying your food so that a bear can't get into it. It's meant to protect the bears (after three strikes stealing human food, they have to be killed in the parks) but it's an unfortunate addition to our packs because a bear vault weighs 3.5 pounds when empty. We had our pack weights down to a science by now, but adding another 3.5 cumbersome, ill-shaped pounds was going to be a hassle.

Bramble, Honey Bunny, Rotisserie and Sansei playing with fake mustaches

We spent the afternoon packing and repacking, trying to find the best way to make the bear vaults fit in our packs. We stuffed them full of food, but since thru-hikers have such large appetites, the vaults really only fit three days worth of food, and the remaining four days would have to be shoved into whatever remaining spaces the pack held. Katie, Rotisserie, Sansei and I all went through our packs and mailed home any extraneous weight that we could afford to lose. I sent home my town clothes, which, although handy to have when doing laundry in town, would be a heavy luxury item through the Sierras.

We showered, bought extra food, had lunch, did laundry, and prepared ourselves for our next adventure. We considered staying the night in Kennedy Meadows, but we would have to camp regardless if we hiked on or stayed at trail angel Tom's, so we decided it would be more advantageous to hike on.

Sansei, Rotisserie, Katie and I left around 6:00pm, our packs bulging with food and new gear, and we continued north, trying to grow accustomed to our new pack weights and balance. We made it three miles to a campground and decided to stay the night there. We played games at the picnic table, pitched our tents for the first time in weeks, and dreamed about the Sierras.

Day Forty Six

Today's miles: 25
Total miles: 698

We were not visited by a bear last night, as far as anyone could tell. Sansei, Katie and I were awake at first light and left camp before Milkman, Irish and Pickles. We had no intention of suffering through another hot day like yesterday. We were a mere two days from Kennedy Meadows and the desperation to be in the mountains was greater than ever - it was ironic that the final 100 miles of desert could be worse than the combined 600 miles before it. It was as though the desert was trying to play its final trump card, to wipe us out once and for all when we had come so far.

The "cool" of the morning lasted barely a few hours, and then it was hot again. Still, we were determined to race through the day. We sweated as we climbed mountains, trying to fixate on being out of the desert. We came across a trail register a few miles in, and flipped through the pages to see who we were behind. Focus had come through yesterday, and the Chain Gang a day before that. My favorite entry was from a hiker I had never met, which read simply:
"Fuck the desert!!! Actually... just kidding. The desert is like Chuck Norris. You don't fuck the desert, the desert fucks you."
It seemed we weren't the only ones excited about entering the Sierras.

After ten miles we came across a water trough with a spigot running into it. It seemed like a great place to take an afternoon siesta, but Katie was determined to push on today, despite the heat. We stopped for lunch and had a relaxing moment washing our dirty, sore feet below the stream of water. It was the simple things often that made us so happy.

After a mini nap beside the trough, we pushed on. Kennedy Meadows was now a mere 19 miles away, and mountain fever struck us. Still, I was wary about hiking in the heat after yesterday's experience. But we were rewarded with a small miracle this afternoon: clouds began to cover the sun. Usually Southern California has no clouds to speak of; I have never seen such pure blue skies as I have out in the desert, but today a thin line of haze blocked the sun's rays and a cool breeze began blowing through.

We jumped at the opportunity and blazed down the trail. For a few hours we were able to walk in unshaded areas with relative ease. As the sun slowly made its appearance again, we took frequent breaks, including an impromptu-nap under a single shade tree. The trail began going downhill into a valley and landed us near a small creek at the base of the mountain.

At this point it was 5:00pm and we had already covered an impressive 20 miles. As we made dinner we debated our situation: the stream here was small and overrun with ants, not a good choice for camping. The South Fork of the Kern River, a milestone we had been counting down to for days, was a mere five miles further down the trail, and Kennedy Meadows was only four miles past that. We decided it was entirely plausible for us to make it to the river tonight. Wocka Wocka and Giddyup joined us for dinner and they decided to push on with us.

The final five miles were flat, though my feet were incredibly sore and I hobbled my way along the trail in exhausted pain. It was a delight to finally reach the Kern River - it was the biggest body of water we had seen since the Mojave River 300 miles ago, and it was a sight to behold. Green grass, flowing water, stretches of flowers and granite. We stripped down and jumped in, washing our bodies and clothes, and then found a flat space beside the river to lay our sleeping bags. Wocka Wocka and Giddyup soon joined us, and we lay listening to the sound of the water as we talked giddily about the Sierras and what awaited us beyond.

Day Forty Five

Miles today: 19
Total miles: 673

We tried to wake up at 4:00 am to hike before dawn, but since we had gone to bed only three hours earlier, it was extremely difficult to get out of bed. So we slept until 5:30, when Wocka Wocka and Giddyup passed by us, and finally managed to struggle into our hiking gear.

We still had quite a climb ahead of us this morning, so we were moving very slowly. We leapfrogged with Wocka Wocka and Giddyup as we took snack breaks and climbed into higher elevations, marveling at the new terrain. The trail was full of shale; we scaled rocky ridges and granite mountainsides, looking down onto the desert below. I would have enjoyed it more if I weren't fighting to keep my eyes open.

We soon descended again into the desert mountainsides we were used to seeing. Shade was hard to come by, and it was once again over 100 degrees with no breeze. The only water source on today's hike was a spring contaminated by uranium, so we hoped to pack in enough water to not have to stop there.

By 11:30 we couldn't bear the heat anymore. We had gone ten miles and we desperately needed to stop before the heat knocked us flat. The only bit of patchy shade we could find was under a scraggly tree, but it was the best we could do. It was so hot that we were pouring sweat even while lying completely still in the shade, and the still air was so miserable that we couldn't sleep. We desperately needed naps, but no one could get comfortable, and no one wanted to keep walking in this heat.

The afternoon siesta is a coveted thing in the desert, and an interesting phenomenon. It is very common to be leapfrogging with five to ten other hikers throughout the morning, passing each other as someone takes a snack break. But once noon or 1:00 rolls around, suddenly everyone stops. You could find a siesta spot under a tree and suddenly not see a single soul pass you for five hours. Every person on trail has learned how imperative it is not to hike in the heat of the afternoon, and finding the perfect siesta spot is an important part of the day.

We tossed and turned beneath our skeletal tree, shifting our sleeping pads as the sun moved, but it hardly seemed to make a difference. It was hot as hell and we weren't having any fun. We were also desperately thirsty and our stock of water was slowly dwindling as we drank our way through our siesta. We told jokes and shared Skittles to pass the time, but the heat was inescapable.

It was 6:00 pm by the time we finally mustered enough energy to keep hiking. It was still excruciatingly hot, but by this time we were running out of water and needed to get to the next water source a few miles away. We plodded onward, and upward, Sansei in the lead with Katie behind and me behind her. Katie, for once, was having a difficult time. She was dehydrated and overheated and kept stopping to catch her breath and scream at the dirt below her feet. I stayed silent behind her, but I, too, felt like screaming. Today was a painful march that seemed to never end.

Eventually Katie began to feel ill, so Sansei and I sat her down and gave her some of the last of our water and electrolytes to make her feel better. She rested until she caught her breath and then we moved on again, slowly. As we continued our climb, we were caught up by old friends: Milkman, Pickles and Irish! It was a happy little reunion, and we hiked as a group until we got to the next water source. It was dark when we arrived, and another hiker had left a small note beside the stream that read:
"2:00pm. There is a small, aggressive bear at this water source. Be on the lookout.
4:00pm. Bear is still here. Make lots of noise as you approach."

We began whooping and yelling and clanking our trekking poles together, but we didn't see sign of a bear. Still, it was dark and every rustling noise made us jump, so we tried to gather water as quickly as we could. The stream was very low flow, so it took an agonizingly long time to filter water. We kept watch in the darkness, our headlamps scanning for bears.

Suddenly, Sansei let out a shriek and we yelled, "what! What! Bear??"
"No - bird!!" Sansei yelled, flashing his headlamp in the direction of his attacker. The light made two beedy green eyes flash back at us, and a second later, the large, unknown bird dive bombed again for our heads. We waved our arms and yelled at the bird as it circled overhead, swooping down in the darkness to repeatedly scare us as we tried to gather water.
Grumpy, Sansei stomped back to the hiker's note and added another line to the bottom: 
"8:00pm. Also look out for killer bird."

We were desperately hungry for dinner, but we didn't want to stop for fear of being attacked by a bear (and the bird), so we pushed on a little further before stopping. It was an eerie dinner, all of us eating as quickly as we could, scanning the dark woods for any movement. Then we packed up and moved on, the trail steeply ascending before us. Pickles, Irish and Milkman were ahead of us now, and we hurried to catch up, but the heat was still dragging us down. It was after 9:00pm and the silent air seemed to press down on us, the warmth of the evening soaking us in sweat. We stripped off shirts, rolled up pants, dabbed bandanas at our brows, but still we were gasping and sweating up the mountain.
"Fuck, fuck!" we screamed, taking yet another switchback. "How can it be this hot at 9:30?!"
We were so tired, so hot, so miserable. I was practically crying as I forced my feet forward. I needed sleep so badly.
When at last we reached the top of the climb, we could hear the distant yells of Pickles, Irish and Milkman in the distance. We couldn't make out what they were saying.
"WHAT?" Sansei yelled into the darkness.
"BEAR! BEAR!" they yelled back.
"Quick, make noise!" Sansei commanded us, and the three of us began whooping and hollering again into the black: "hey! Hey! Bear! Woo! Bear bear bear!"
We caught up with Milkman, who said they had seen a baby bear climbing a tree not far from the trail, but they had yet to see the mother.

We banded together and marched down the trail, yelling and calling as we walked. We burst into a tentsite loud enough to wake the dead, disturbing several other hikers who had already gone to bed for the evening. We apologized and joined them. Pickles, Irish and Milkman set up tents but Katie, Sansei and I cowboy camped in the dirt, despite the threat of a bear visit in the night.

"Ok, here's the rule," Milkman said. "If anyone wakes up and sees a bear, start yelling BEAR BEAR as loud as you can, and anyone else who wakes up should start yelling, too. Under no circumstances should you yell bear if you don't actually see one. No joking around."
"Of course not," we promised.
"What if I yell 'raccoon'?" Irish asked.

Sansei peed around the outside of our tentsite, as if it would make much difference, and we had a rather fitful night of sleep.

Day Forty Four

Today's miles: 2
Total miles: 654

Our little group of six was now down to three. Papa Bear was still behind us, taking some shorter mileage in order to hike with his son. Rotisserie was spending time with her family this week, and Focus's hiking pace was faster than ours, so he took off early this morning to continue his journey to Kennedy Meadows.

Katie, Sansei and I were the only ones left, and we had plans in Walker Pass, too. My good friend Ross from college was coming to pick us up and take us to his house for the day. He and his husband Eric arrived at the campsite around 8:00 and drove us twenty minutes to their hometown in Ridgecrest. It had been so long since we had been in a car that the experience was euphoric. We rolled down the windows, blasted the music, and realized that the desert mountains surrounding us looked almost beautiful when we didn't have to walk through them.

When we got to the house, Ross asked if we needed anything, but the greatest thing we could think to ask for was this: "ice water?" We marveled at air conditioning, and outlets to charge our phones, and a little floor fan that blew cold air in our faces. We were told to sit on the couches, but we knew how dirty we were and opted to sit on the floor. Ross brought us spare sets of clothes to wear while we did laundry and gave us towels for showers. It was a marvelous thing. Ross and Eric both found it amusing that we were so easily delighted by such small conveniences.

We were told that Eric's colleagues were having a pool party this afternoon, and did we want to attend? We did, of course. It didn't start until 2:00, and though it was only 10:00 in the morning at the time, we were already starving for lunch. We ordered Thai food, Ross made us some delicious mixed drinks, and we put in the movie Galaxy Quest, which had us all cracking up for a few hours. Sansei and I love quoting movies on trail, and since we both knew this one by heart, we were spouting off our favorite lines all afternoon.

After we had showered, done laundry, and finished the movie, Eric drove Sansei, Katie and I to the grocery store to do our resupply. Then we went to the pool party, where we joined his friends splashing in warm water that was somehow still delightfully refreshing. We chatted with his friends as they asked us about the PCT, feeling very proud to say, "we've walked 650 miles to be here."

We swam until 5:00 and then Ross had to be at work, so we went back to their house to take naps and watch movies while Ross was gone. He returned at 10:00 and we decided that we should try to get some more miles in today, so we packed up and Ross brought us back to the trailhead closer to midnight. It was the latest we had stayed awake in a long time and sleep was slowly dragging at our eyelids. We gave Ross hugs and said thank you and goodbye, and then began hiking north.

The trail was uphill, of course. And even though it was pitch dark outside, the heat had not abated. It had been 110 degrees in Ridgecrest today, and it must have still been in the 90s on the trail, even at this hour. We dragged ourselves up the hill, avoiding scorpions and wiping sweat from our faces. We only made it two miles before it was 1:00 am and we were exhausted. We found the nearest flat spot to the trail and cowboy camped there for the night. I barely remember changing into my sleep clothes before I passed out.