I think I must have celebrated a little too hard last night, because I woke up hungover. The general aches of a hangover are bad enough, and sleeping on the ground does not make them better.
We spent today reading and hanging out. I haven't been able to get a cell phone signal since we left Mojave a week ago, and the inability to contact family and friends is making me antsy. I finally broke down and called my aunt collect on a payphone, the only phone around. She is a fantastic lady, and it was great to talk to her.
The clouds had been building up in a far corner of the sky all day, and a deep, rolling thunderclap issued from far off in the mountains. We loaded everything under our vestibules and got into our tents just as the rain started. I'd never been in my tent in the rain before, but I lay there reading, my sleeping bag bunched up under me as a pillow, and I felt safe and secure. I fell asleep listening to the drops hit my rain fly, and had strange, vivid dreams about driving home to see my family. I woke up to bright sunlight and a suffocating heat. The Green Shark handles rain like a champ, but in the sun it becomes an oven. I stumbled out into the sunshine and cooler air, and went over to the store to check the hiker boxes and read some more.
Hiker boxes are boxes that hikers deposit unwanted items into. Much of the time, they're full of old shoes, tampons, bottles with a smallish amount of sunblock in them, bags containing mysterious foods, books, and other items. Sometimes, they carry treasure. In my case, this usually means food. Bags of cookies, packs of crackers, snack bars. Someone last night put in an unopened container of frosting, but I got there too late. Obviously, the best time to check a hiker box is right after someone dumps all their stuff into it. This trip has turned me into a scavenger. Eating a free pack of Ritz crackers is a better option than paying five dollars for a bag of Oreos in the store. In this way, me becoming something of an animal is maybe defensible.
It's not just the hiker boxes. Anytime free food is offered out here, I'm all over it. I'm like a dog. Also I go to the bathroom outside, which doesn't help the comparison. There's a lot to do tomorrow before we leave. I'd better get some sleep. 'Night!
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Monday, June 8th-Day 47
We're in Kennedy Meadows. We put in an easy (aside from battered feet) 12 miles or so to get here, and here we are now. Our winter gear has arrived, including my ice axe, which is monstrous. From here, we enter the Sierras, but first we are going to take a day or two to heal. There's a general store here, and that's about it, but all the other hikers have managed to turn the place into some sort of compound. Tents are everywhere, and the air is thick with the odor of people who have not showered in at least a week (Me!).
The market/store place is super expensive. I mostly raided hiker boxes for today's and tomorrow's dinner. Jerry bought beer, a 12-pack of Natural Ice and a 12-pack of Keystone Light. I am drunk. Goodnight!
The market/store place is super expensive. I mostly raided hiker boxes for today's and tomorrow's dinner. Jerry bought beer, a 12-pack of Natural Ice and a 12-pack of Keystone Light. I am drunk. Goodnight!
Sunday, June 7th-Day 46
Up at five and pretty cold. We'd camped close to this spring, and it turned out that none of us needed water. So, we packed up and left.
I'm gonna talk about what I've been putting my body through for a minute. We walk around twenty to twenty-five miles a day on average, carrying packs that sometimes weight as much as forty-five pounds. That's twenty five miles of constant stepping on uneven, rocky terrain. The big toe on my left foot is mostly numb. When I bend it back, I get strange twinges in the middle of my foot, on top. When I bend it down, I get sharp, terrible pain in my arch. I try to keep it straight. I've got blisters under calluses on the back of my right heel. I've been told to pop them (IT GETS REALLY GROSS NOW, FYI-M.), so I stabbed my heel with my knife and the only thing that happened was that my heel felt like it was being stabbed. I put molefoam on it, taped it up, and have avoided looking at it since out of fear. I've got pain in my left shin and in my right knee. And my hips.
My upper body feels fine, except that my left shoulder starts to hurt a lot after I've been hiking for a long stretch. I shift the pack weight to my hips, which hurts them, but not too badly. I think what I'm saying is that this whole hike is just one long, painful experience. My body is pretty beaten up, and it's not going to get easier. We're heading into the Sierras after our next stop, Kennedy Meadows. Lots of big climbing, at altitudes we haven't even come close to so far, with all my complaining about climbing. In spite of all of this, I'm having a good time, and I think I know why.
We're more than one quarter of the way done, as of today. We're through the Mojave Desert. We've taken what it gave us and come out stronger than we went in. We've come almost seven hundred miles, officially finished Southern California, and, after Kennedy Meadows, we will take on the Sierras.
My body felt like it was falling apart piece by piece today, but I still hiked twenty three miles uphill. I came out here to push my limits, and that's what I'm doing. Hiking all day, every day sucks, but I haven't had to stop yet, haven't found my wall, and that' why I like this thing. I'm gonna go until I can't anymore, or until I reach Canada. We all are, and we're one quarter of the way there. Less than two thousand miles to go. 'Night.
I'm gonna talk about what I've been putting my body through for a minute. We walk around twenty to twenty-five miles a day on average, carrying packs that sometimes weight as much as forty-five pounds. That's twenty five miles of constant stepping on uneven, rocky terrain. The big toe on my left foot is mostly numb. When I bend it back, I get strange twinges in the middle of my foot, on top. When I bend it down, I get sharp, terrible pain in my arch. I try to keep it straight. I've got blisters under calluses on the back of my right heel. I've been told to pop them (IT GETS REALLY GROSS NOW, FYI-M.), so I stabbed my heel with my knife and the only thing that happened was that my heel felt like it was being stabbed. I put molefoam on it, taped it up, and have avoided looking at it since out of fear. I've got pain in my left shin and in my right knee. And my hips.
My upper body feels fine, except that my left shoulder starts to hurt a lot after I've been hiking for a long stretch. I shift the pack weight to my hips, which hurts them, but not too badly. I think what I'm saying is that this whole hike is just one long, painful experience. My body is pretty beaten up, and it's not going to get easier. We're heading into the Sierras after our next stop, Kennedy Meadows. Lots of big climbing, at altitudes we haven't even come close to so far, with all my complaining about climbing. In spite of all of this, I'm having a good time, and I think I know why.
We're more than one quarter of the way done, as of today. We're through the Mojave Desert. We've taken what it gave us and come out stronger than we went in. We've come almost seven hundred miles, officially finished Southern California, and, after Kennedy Meadows, we will take on the Sierras.
My body felt like it was falling apart piece by piece today, but I still hiked twenty three miles uphill. I came out here to push my limits, and that's what I'm doing. Hiking all day, every day sucks, but I haven't had to stop yet, haven't found my wall, and that' why I like this thing. I'm gonna go until I can't anymore, or until I reach Canada. We all are, and we're one quarter of the way there. Less than two thousand miles to go. 'Night.
Saturday, June 6th-Day 45
Slept in this morning. Meadow Ed and some volunteers made breakfast, but we slept through it. I made up for it with a bowl of granola and milk, which was delicious. After eating, we met up with a guy named Half Mile, our ride into Onyx.
Onyx turned out to be a post office and a gas station. The post office barely seemed open, with the inside door locked and two women working inside, summoned by a buzzer. They gave us our box, and we picked up a few essentials from the gas station (peanut butter, candy bars) and headed back to Walker Pass, where the camp was. Upon opening our box, I was extremely excited to find a small load of snacks for me, courtesy of Megan, who is a wonderful person (It's true. I sent him cakesters. -M)
I have to explain something about food. Out here, every variety of food is magnified in deliciousness tenfold. At home, I might not like Cheerios (I don't), but out here I love them (I do!)(I now pronounce you man and cereal. -M) Pop-Tarts might be a mediocre snack in everyday life, but when I'm halfway up a mountain, reclining against my pack and pouring the last crumbs from the package into my mouth, there is nothing in the world I'd rather be eating right then. I have not encountered a single food out here that wasn't tasty.
Oh right, today. So, we sorted our food, then took naps? A nap?...We napped in our tents until noon, and then set about the process of getting packed. After we finally had everything ready, we headed back over to the pavilion for more scavenging and some goodbyes, and then we hit the trail.
I've gotta be honest, the last two days took their toll on me. My legs were stiff, one of my feet had blisters, and the other one feels bruised deep inside the arch. We had a 1,000 foot climb right off the bat that had me a little worried, but I slowed down my pace, took it one step at a time, and pushed all the way up. We ran into Steve, who's been trail named "The Dude" because his voice sounds very much like the voice of Jeff Bridges. Together, we put in another seven miles (for a total of twelve) up and then down a very rocky trail. My shoes have about had it, I think, and the sharp rocks did not feel great on my feet, which were still pretty sore, but we made it down to a spring in a deep, shaded valley, and set up camp. There are rumors of bear trouble around here. I thought about putting my pack far away from my tent, but put it in my vestibule instead. If a bear wants my Oreos, he's going to have to fight me for them. G'night.
Onyx turned out to be a post office and a gas station. The post office barely seemed open, with the inside door locked and two women working inside, summoned by a buzzer. They gave us our box, and we picked up a few essentials from the gas station (peanut butter, candy bars) and headed back to Walker Pass, where the camp was. Upon opening our box, I was extremely excited to find a small load of snacks for me, courtesy of Megan, who is a wonderful person (It's true. I sent him cakesters. -M)
I have to explain something about food. Out here, every variety of food is magnified in deliciousness tenfold. At home, I might not like Cheerios (I don't), but out here I love them (I do!)(I now pronounce you man and cereal. -M) Pop-Tarts might be a mediocre snack in everyday life, but when I'm halfway up a mountain, reclining against my pack and pouring the last crumbs from the package into my mouth, there is nothing in the world I'd rather be eating right then. I have not encountered a single food out here that wasn't tasty.
Oh right, today. So, we sorted our food, then took naps? A nap?...We napped in our tents until noon, and then set about the process of getting packed. After we finally had everything ready, we headed back over to the pavilion for more scavenging and some goodbyes, and then we hit the trail.
I've gotta be honest, the last two days took their toll on me. My legs were stiff, one of my feet had blisters, and the other one feels bruised deep inside the arch. We had a 1,000 foot climb right off the bat that had me a little worried, but I slowed down my pace, took it one step at a time, and pushed all the way up. We ran into Steve, who's been trail named "The Dude" because his voice sounds very much like the voice of Jeff Bridges. Together, we put in another seven miles (for a total of twelve) up and then down a very rocky trail. My shoes have about had it, I think, and the sharp rocks did not feel great on my feet, which were still pretty sore, but we made it down to a spring in a deep, shaded valley, and set up camp. There are rumors of bear trouble around here. I thought about putting my pack far away from my tent, but put it in my vestibule instead. If a bear wants my Oreos, he's going to have to fight me for them. G'night.
Friday, June 5th-Day 44
We knocked out the remaining 29 miles like they were nothing! Woke up at six to wet tents, sleeping bags, packs, everything. There was heavy condensation during the night, which left me freezing until morning, when we packed up and got moving. The trail stayed pretty easy, but we once again found ourselves brutalized by powerful winds throughout the day. The clouds kept threatening rain, and the air stayed very cold. The sky didn't fall, though, and we powered through without trouble.
After lunch, we left the trail for a mountain spring and found a shelter with chairs outside. As we rested, a pickup truck pulled up and two men got out. They had brought a bagful of food, and we took some with thanks. Then it was eight more miles, four of which were a long descent down a beautiful valley as the sun sank towards the mountaintops. We finally hit the bottom, and found a barbecue waiting for us and any other hikers. A man named Meadow Ed threw steaks (!) on the fire for us, and we ate greedily.
Tonight's dinner: Steak, salad, 2 rolls, 3 beers, 2 Gatorades, grapes, a handful of pretzels, and an apple. Way better than rehydrated chili mac. Nothing works up an appetite like hiking 29 miles. We've got a ride into Onyx lined up in the morning. Things are working out! Night.
After lunch, we left the trail for a mountain spring and found a shelter with chairs outside. As we rested, a pickup truck pulled up and two men got out. They had brought a bagful of food, and we took some with thanks. Then it was eight more miles, four of which were a long descent down a beautiful valley as the sun sank towards the mountaintops. We finally hit the bottom, and found a barbecue waiting for us and any other hikers. A man named Meadow Ed threw steaks (!) on the fire for us, and we ate greedily.
Tonight's dinner: Steak, salad, 2 rolls, 3 beers, 2 Gatorades, grapes, a handful of pretzels, and an apple. Way better than rehydrated chili mac. Nothing works up an appetite like hiking 29 miles. We've got a ride into Onyx lined up in the morning. Things are working out! Night.
Sunday, August 9, 2009
Thursday, June 4th, Day 43
We discovered last night that we still had sixty miles to Onyx, where our next box awaits, and only two days to get there, or else we'd arrive after the post office closed and have to wait until Monday to get our stuff. So, we got up early (4-ish) and set out for a thirty mile day. The trail started out with some moderate climbing, which, I'm sad to say, wiped me out completely. I might not be eating well enough out here at breakfast, because after lunch I felt much better. We shook off our slow morning and careened through the afternoon along nice, even ground. We passed through cool, beautiful forests. Hopefully a taste of what Oregon and Washington will offer, and back into a desert canyon as the evening took the heat away. Another eight miles past a water cache and we set up camp on a sandy plateau. 31 miles today. New record. Only 29 more tomorrow, then Onyx. We can do it. Good night.
Wednesday, June 3rd, Day 42
Up at five today, and hiking by six. As we climbed higher into the hills, clouds rolled in. Suddenly, it began to hail. We'd just left the Mojave Desert, and there were hailstones stinging us as we walked.
It stopped hailing soon enough, and we were left with a cloudy sky and a cool hike. We sat down for lunch at a spring, and, just as we finished, it began to rain. We put on our jackets and pack covers and hiked out, hoping that the rain would subside, but it didn't. The trail became muddy, my shorts were soaked, and my hands were freezing. Hiking in the rain is a miserable experience. When we encounter it in the north, we'll be ready for it. Here, though, there are no deciduous trees to take cover under. The entire ground is wet, and there's no escape.
We put in ten miles and made it to a campground just as the rain let up. As I sat in my tent cooking dinner, the sun finally burst through the clouds, warming me. I took the water pot from my stove (in my vestibule; I don't want to burn my tent down), and, leaning in, tried to blow out the flame. A cloud of fire leapt out into my face. Now it smells like burned hair in here, and one of my eyebrows is slightly shorter. Night!
It stopped hailing soon enough, and we were left with a cloudy sky and a cool hike. We sat down for lunch at a spring, and, just as we finished, it began to rain. We put on our jackets and pack covers and hiked out, hoping that the rain would subside, but it didn't. The trail became muddy, my shorts were soaked, and my hands were freezing. Hiking in the rain is a miserable experience. When we encounter it in the north, we'll be ready for it. Here, though, there are no deciduous trees to take cover under. The entire ground is wet, and there's no escape.
We put in ten miles and made it to a campground just as the rain let up. As I sat in my tent cooking dinner, the sun finally burst through the clouds, warming me. I took the water pot from my stove (in my vestibule; I don't want to burn my tent down), and, leaning in, tried to blow out the flame. A cloud of fire leapt out into my face. Now it smells like burned hair in here, and one of my eyebrows is slightly shorter. Night!
Tuesday, June 2nd-Day 41
We stayed up until around ten thirty last night, late for us. At about four in the morning, Mark suddenly started talking to us, loudly. I'm not sure what he was saying, but we tried for a while to ignore him, hoping he'd get the idea. He did not. I think he was going on about how great it is that we're doing this, and how nice it was that we were able to hang out with him and Tony, who he would sometimes address. Tony, who was sleeping in the RV, did not answer. After about ten minutes and one round of Mark saying "I know you guys are awake," I finally responded, and we talked briefly until I convinced him that maybe it was time to go back to sleep. He quieted down for about half an hour, and started again. This time, it was Jerry's turn, and I fell back asleep while they chatted. After that he and Tom talked. By then, it was five thirty, so we just got up. I found myself wondering if we were in the presence of a truly crazy person as I came back from the bathroom, and then in the morning light, I got a look at him. He was leaning up against the inside rear corner of the house, sitting on a stack of pillows, and there was an empty 1.75 liter vodka bottle in his hand. It was five thirty in the morning, and he was smashed because he's been drinking all night. We sat around for a while as he made the same jokes over and over again until he finally fell asleep. Tony got up and made a delicious breakfast, and after we ate, we napped in the shade inside the house. We woke up at noon, packed, and thanked our hosts for a great evening and an unusual morning. Then Tony took us back to the trailhead, where we ate hot dogs for lunch before finally heading back out. Another twelve or thirteen miles, and here we are.
We did find an awesome campsite. There's a small grove of trees and soft, clear ground. In the middle of the grove, someone left bags full of salami and Crystal Light. It was like finding a treasure chest! Night.
We did find an awesome campsite. There's a small grove of trees and soft, clear ground. In the middle of the grove, someone left bags full of salami and Crystal Light. It was like finding a treasure chest! Night.
Monday, June 1st, Day 40
Woke up at five thirty to a gorgeous sunrise, which I tried to capture in digital form on my semi-functional camera. Won't see how it turned out until Onyx, unfortuntely.
A cool morning hike took us down out of the mountains, through a wind farm and ultimately to the Tehachapi/Willow Springs road, where we began the ten-mile walk to Mojave. Our thumbs were out at every car that passed our way, but traffic was light, and comprised mostly of semi trucks and cars too small for three men and their packs. After we'd walked about three miles, a bright blue Toyota whatever pulled over, and a man named Gabriel picked us up. We listened to AC/DC and asked the important questions about town, namely about fast food places, which we walked to after he kindly dropped us off at the post office. I have finally eaten at a Jack-In-The-Box. I can go home now. Aha.
After food (so much!) we walked (laboriously) across town in the afternoon sun. Mojave is wide open and spread out, and the twenty-minute walk to the Stater Bros. grocery store took us past a handful of gas stations and restaurants on one side and a scenic vista of the distant mountains on the other, with lots and lots of nothing between us and them.
While we were shopping, a man approached me and asked if the packs outside belonged to us. I said yes, and when I told him where we're going, he seemed genuinely impressed. He intorduced himself (Mark), and after meeting Tom and Jerry, offered to let us stay the night at the house he and his friend are building. We agreed, and soon found ourselves ten miles away in California City, eating junk food in the yard of a building site. Mark and Tony (his friend) entertained us for hours with truly hilarious and exciting stories. These two have lived.
After a delicious dinner of flame-grilled chicken and hot dogs, we set out our sleepin pads in the framework of the house and prepared for bed.
This house is a wooden skeleton. I love being in buildings before the drywall goes up, and stepping between the slats, breaking the rules. There is no roof on this building, and when I lie on my back, I'm looking straight up at the stars. The breeze is cool, and I could not be happier to be out here right now. 'Night.
A cool morning hike took us down out of the mountains, through a wind farm and ultimately to the Tehachapi/Willow Springs road, where we began the ten-mile walk to Mojave. Our thumbs were out at every car that passed our way, but traffic was light, and comprised mostly of semi trucks and cars too small for three men and their packs. After we'd walked about three miles, a bright blue Toyota whatever pulled over, and a man named Gabriel picked us up. We listened to AC/DC and asked the important questions about town, namely about fast food places, which we walked to after he kindly dropped us off at the post office. I have finally eaten at a Jack-In-The-Box. I can go home now. Aha.
After food (so much!) we walked (laboriously) across town in the afternoon sun. Mojave is wide open and spread out, and the twenty-minute walk to the Stater Bros. grocery store took us past a handful of gas stations and restaurants on one side and a scenic vista of the distant mountains on the other, with lots and lots of nothing between us and them.
While we were shopping, a man approached me and asked if the packs outside belonged to us. I said yes, and when I told him where we're going, he seemed genuinely impressed. He intorduced himself (Mark), and after meeting Tom and Jerry, offered to let us stay the night at the house he and his friend are building. We agreed, and soon found ourselves ten miles away in California City, eating junk food in the yard of a building site. Mark and Tony (his friend) entertained us for hours with truly hilarious and exciting stories. These two have lived.
After a delicious dinner of flame-grilled chicken and hot dogs, we set out our sleepin pads in the framework of the house and prepared for bed.
This house is a wooden skeleton. I love being in buildings before the drywall goes up, and stepping between the slats, breaking the rules. There is no roof on this building, and when I lie on my back, I'm looking straight up at the stars. The breeze is cool, and I could not be happier to be out here right now. 'Night.
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