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Day 25: going backwards

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Day 25
Miles: 20
From the Mojave Siphon Power Plant to a couple miles past Cajon Pass

J’s Aunt Amy makes us a breakfast of veggie omelets, strawberries and toast. Back to trail food after this… J’s cousin Dan loads us up and whisks us back to the ugly power plant where he picked us up. “Are you sure you don’t to just start back up from Wrightwood?” he asks us, one more time. We’re sure. It seems kind of silly to go backwards just so we can walk back into Wrightwood two days from now, but being committed to walking the entire trail makes all of our other decisions less complicated. “Are we really doing this?” we ask ourselves. Yes. The answer is always yes. Forward-ho.
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Day 9: unplanned stops

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Day 9
Miles: 12
Agua caliente spring to trail angel Mike’s house

I don’t know if the tarp saved us from dew last night, but it caught five big bird bombs for us, and all on my side. I’ll chalk that up for a win.

The area where we camped is basically a poison oak farm, and hiking out of the Agua Caliente valley is a poison oak gauntlet. I’m leading the way, and my morning conversation with J consists nearly entirely of poison oak alerts: “left side… right side…right side, left side, both sides! Both sides!” We spend some time speculating on why, if it’s poisonous, is it also camouflaged? All the sidling and ducking aggravates my wonky knee.
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Day 7: no shower for me

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(Header photo by J)
Day 7
Miles: 19
Third gate water cache to Warner Springs

Woke up cosy and snug next to a juniper tree. A little too cosy – it’s already late. J and I don’t get started until nine. We’d like to make it to Warner Springs tonight, and it’s 19 miles away. That would be my second longest hiking day ever, the day after my first longest. Time to get started either way. First I have to put on my torture devices shoes. I’ve got tired feet.

Not long after starting, we finally turn a corner that takes on onto the north face of the San Felipe hills. The view we had all yesterday is replaced, and the plants change too. We’re back in scrub. Beaver tail cacti are up here too though, and every corner you turn there’s a cactus exploding in incandescent pink bloom. The view is much greener to the north.
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Day 5: (almost) blown away

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Day 5
Miles: 16
Mile 55 to mile 71

The tarp is so low that it smacks me in the face as it whips in the wind. It makes it hard to forget that there are gale force winds outside, although it is surprisingly calm inside. I pull my quilt over my head and try to sleep.

It’s an uneasy night for the both of us. When we both wake up in the middle of the night, one of the corner guylines has snapped and the ridgeline is sagging. Like a true hero, J goes out to fix it. I’m surprised it’s still standing.

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Day 3: first trees

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Day 3
Miles: 11
Cibbetts flat campground to Mt Laguna

I feel completely exposed – J and I are lying on a groundsheet in the middle of a campground, surrounded by people coming out of their tents and RVs. We’re not really that close to them, but it’s like having people in your bedroom. I turn over on my air mattress. “Is it time? ” I ask J.
“Yeah, I guess we’ll do this. Are we gonna be bandits?” he replies.
“Sure.”
We start getting ready to sneak out of the campground. We’d meant to walk the extra 1/4 mile last night, so we wouldn’t be in the fee campground, but just couldn’t make it. Our “sneaking out” is somewhat leisurely – I’m just not moving very fast.

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Day 2: keep walking

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Day 2
Miles: 18.4
Hauser Creek to Cibbetts Flat Campground

I have all these things I meant to write but it’s the end of the day and I’m just a muddle of exhaustion. A muddle puddle of tired tired tired.

I wake up to easy morning light, J next to me. All around us are beautiful little campspots, but it seems like J and I managed to pick the ugliest one. The only flat spot on it was infested with the biggest ants I’ve ever seen (and I lived in the Amazon for two years) so we set up on the steep side. We’re a couple feet from where we started last night. I feel – cautiously optimistic. I rebandage my blisters and it’s time to go.

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Day 1: Tired feet

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5/2/2014
Day 1
Miles: 15

I’m a flustered mess. I’ve been searching in my pile of stuff for some toothpaste for nearly an hour and everyone is waiting. I finally throw in a different tube and we all head out. “Why is your backpack dripping,” asks my sister. “Uh, it shouldn’t be,” I say as I swing it down. The culprit seems to be an untightened lid on my camelbak, but during the inspection I discover a small hole in the bottom of my pack. “G, seriously, get it together” I think. Then I realize I can’t find my sarong but it’s time to go. 
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