5/29 Wrightwood to Agua Dulce

It was very hard to leave Wrightwood, CA. That town is wonderful, and people are so kind to hikers. I spent a lovely zero day cooking for our gracious hosts, Leroy and Diane, and riding around in the truckbed of Leroy's classic Coca Cola logo Honda. It was Memorial Day Weekend also. Usually my family spends that weekend all together with our closest friends at the lake, and even though I got to video chat in for a little while, I was feeling really homesick. When Diane dropped myself, Color Wheel, and the two other girls that stayed at the house, Javalena and Jet, at the trailhead near Inspiration Point, I was definitively not happy to be back on the trail. It took a while yo get my brain and my body back into "trail mode".

To add insult to injury, the first day out was a horrifyingly steep ascent up Mt.Baden-Powell, a 9,000 foot beast named for the founder of Boy Scouts. We climbed at a rate of 1,000 feet of elevation per mile, which is a hard climb even before you factor in my new favorite thing, altitude sickness. If you are ever trying to digest a whole lot of town food, I do not recommend hiking at 9,000 feet. I felt SO sick. The view was so beautiful, but I was so miserable.

We stood on the summit that offered a 360 view of the mountains we had come from and the mountains we were headed to. Glider planes whistled by just a few dozen yards over our heads.

I only managed to hike a few miles down, just enough to allay my nausea, before I about near collapsed in complete, total exhaustion. I fell asleep well before sundown, praying the worst of this stretch was over.

It wasn't.

The next morning I woke up a little later, so Color Wheel hiked ahead of me. I followed only about 20 minutes behind her, but I took a wrong side trail at a confusing junction and about an hour later found myself on a highway carved into the side of a mountain with no PCT markers in sight.

I was lost. "Shit."

I couldn't quite process the situation at first. I stood there alternating between panic, disbelieve, frustration, and despair, switching from one emotion to the next so quickly they were nearly indistinguishable from each other. I flipped through my maps, flustered and perplexed, the fury at myself for not paying closer attention to the trail building to a rolling boil. I'd only been standing there a few minutes when a SUV rolled by and parked on a recess next to the highway just in sight ahead of me. I walked over to ask the day hikers that emerged where exactly I was. The woman told me I was on Hwy 2, and the PCT was approximately 2 steep miles uphill from where I stood. I already knew it, but hearing it out loud was more than I could handle. I couldn't help myself anymore. I burst into tears, right in front of the woman and her husband.

They were kind and patient and they comforted me while they waited for me to calm down so I could explain what was wrong. Essentially, I was exhausted, lost, homesick, sore, hungry, separated from my friend, and a bit low on water. If I hiked the hard uphill, there was little chance I would catch up or have enough water to make it to the next source. The woman knew of a PCT trail crossing five miles up the road, and she told me to put my pack in the car, they were going to drive me there. I was so relieved and thankful I started crying all over again. Thank god for trail angels.

Richard and Kathy dropped me off at a picnic table by the trail at Islip Saddle, hugged me, and drove off wishing me luck on the rest of my journey. I walked up to the other hikers sitting at the table, still pretty shaky emotionally. They assured me that every one of them had taken the same wrong turn, and that I was not an idiot.

I rested a while with the hikers, eating, waiting for Color Wheel, and reviewing the maps to find my new next water source. It turned out there was a detour coming up, part of the PCT was closed, and I was going to have to walk on the highway for a ways after just a few miles of steep trail. I started the detour, and it was still rough going. Not only was I still tired from the day before, but my confidence in myself as a hiker was at an all time low.

I had been out here a month as a "solo hiker", but what I realized that morning was that I hadn't really been solo very much at all since I started this walk. I had grown close to the people I had been hiking around, and now I was apart from them. I was lonely.

It was strange to realize this. And when I did realize it, I saw that this was a great chance to experience something new. Over the next couple of days, I met a whole bunch of new people, cowboy camped for the first time (cowboy camping is sleeping without shelter, under the stars), camped solo for the first time since I'd come out here, night hiked a number of times, and spent time hiking alone and with people I hadn't gotten to know yet.

It was still hard. It got really hot again, there were terrible flies, and the trail led through old dusty burn areas, laced with invasive, poisonous poodle dog bush and the charred skeletons of trees.

But as it always does, the trail showed me why it was worth it. Beautiful sunrises, sunsets, twinkling city lights in the distance, incredible canyons and enormous red rock boulders, and the cherry on top, an afternoon at Suzanne's house. I met Suzanne in Agua Dulce at a cafe. She had an enormous Newfoundland, Teddy, and while I was petting him she offered to let me come spend the afternoon at her house. I slept in her garden under the wisteria trees, did some yoga, hung out with her dogs and her horse, and listened to her stories. I had a wonderful, restful afternoon. Suzanne, if you're reading this, you are the absolute best, and I miss you already!

So, all in all, this week was a hard week turned positive. Should be at mile 500 pretty soon! Here's some picture highlights from the week:

1,500 year old tree on top of Baden-Powell

Mile 400!

Sunset over a burn area

Vasquez Rocks! Amazing rock formations. Apparently some hikers walked through the set of a car commercial here.

5/23 Big Bear To Wrightwood

Today marks my 31st day on trail! One month on the PCT wahoo!

I hiked out of Big Bear with Color Wheel a little late in the day. The weather had cleared up really nicely, so the hike up was really pleasant. I especially enjoyed it because I had my new shoes!! My pain in my little toe was a distant memory as we enjoyed 10 miles of easy elevation gain.

The next couple of days were challenging. We did an 18 mile day and followed it with a 19 mile day and a 17 mile day. At this point, those are solid "average" hiking days for me, but for some reason I felt like I had just hit a wall. I felt tired and listless walking down the trail. I ate and drank at every break but nothing gave me energy. My legs would ache angrily through the night, sometimes waking me up. One morning I wouldn't even get out of my tent the pain was so persistent. Color Wheel refused to leave until I got my rear in gear, so I crawled out eventually with some reluctance. My body was trying to convince my brain that I was incapable of going on because I couldn't feed myself enough to keep going. It almost had me fooled too.

That morning that I didn't want to get up was a turning point for me. Funnily enough, that day ended up turning to my best day on the trail yet. I got through the first mile slowly, and then suddenly it felt like I had taken rocket fuel. I shot down the trail. I felt I could have ran, pack weight and all, if it struck my fancy. Every break I took I would pace, tap my foot, anxious to move again. It was the most amazing feeling, to desire motion that badly. I'm still not quite sure where the high came from, but it lasted until Cajon Pass, and I've seen smaller bursts of it since. It doesn't seem to be reliant on any particular type or amount of food, or on the hiking conditions either. It can be uphill, downhill, hot, cold, a good day, a bad day, whatever. Suddenly I just fall into the groove and I know incontrovertibly that there is no place I belong more than right there on that 2,650 mile long, 1 foot wide patch of dirt.

So now I'm in Wrightwood, CA, staying with some nice trail angels and resting up before the next stretch!

The high points of this week included:

- an afternoon at Deep Creek Hot Springs, a smattering of naturally heated pools embedded in a cool green canyon stream, complete with slackline and rope swing
- a "beach day" at the mountainous Silverwood Lake, lounging on the sand and swimming
- relaxing and watching free movies at the Best Western in Cajon Pass with Color Wheel to sleep off our food comas
- watching Highway 15 recede away from us as we climbed out of the Pass
- waking up between two layers of clouds at 7,000 ft, just below the Baldy summit
- emerging into the frozen alpine world just before reaching Wrightwood
- staying with Leroy and Diane, the best trail angels ever!

The lows of the week:

- seeing the graffiti on the rocks climbing out of Deep Creek canyon
- litter left by hikers at Deep Creek and up near Mt.Baldy, more than I could carry out alone
- the lead-weight ache in my legs after Cajon Pass, thank you McDonald's and your empty calories
- dodging poodle dog bush on a long stretch through an old burn area (fires kill all the vegetation and then poodle dog bush, a nasty, furry-looking weed that causes a terrible rash, springs up and takes over the area)
- falling behind a bunch of our friends, hopefully we'll catch up soon!

Pictures!

Descending to Cajon Pass

Beach day at Silverwood Lake

It is when it's graffiti that distracts from the amazing natural beauty of desert canyons...

The incredible view climbing up to Mt. Baldy

Between two worlds

A little dose of sunshine before we disappear into the higher clouds

Frozen leaves

Mexico to McDonald's, 350 Miles For A Big Mac

Yes, you read that right. Today completed my 342 mile trek to.......a McDonald's.

So at this point, I've been out here just shy of a month, and I've walked just shy of 350 miles. How awesome is that!

So now that I'm really in this, and walking bigger miles to boot, my body is starting to, well, freak out. It does not understand why I keep walking instead of feeding myself all the time. Me and my body exchange somewhat unpleasant pleasantries every day (I'm not crazy, right?), and basically, here's how our daily conversations go:


Brain: Time to wake up and hike!

Body: NO. If you get out of this sleeping bag and take even one step, you will drop dead on the spot.

Brain: Nah, c'mon! It'll be fun!

Body: It won't...you'll see...


[later]


Body: I'm hungry, you'd better feed me right now or I will punish you.

Brain: Seriously?? I just fed you 20 minutes ago! We've barely walked a mile, you can wait.

Body: I don't think you understand. You have to feed me NOW.

Brain: But I wanna hike!!

Body: If you don't feed me this minute bad things will happen. Do you not hear that growling in our stomach?

Brain: OK fine...jeez...


[even later]


Body: Are we done walking yet? You've only fed me 2,000 calories today, and that's not nearly enough for what you're making me do here.

Brain: I'm sorry, but that's all I can carry! You know that!

Body: If you would stop walking this wouldn't be a problem.

Brain: It's not so bad. At least it's pretty out here, right?

Body: Pretty doesn't have calories. Seriously when are we stopping.

Brain: The sun won't go down for another 3 hours, we can get in at least 6 more miles.

Body: Oh my god, you ARE trying to kill me.

Brain: What if I make a double serving of mac and cheese with bacon bits for dinner? Will that help?

Body: Look, I appreciate the effort, but that's STILL not enough.


Yeah, that's how me and my body talk to each other. Not super friendly right now. But this morning it was different. This morning my body knew there was real food nearby. It could sense it. And it took over the controls in a last ditch effort to get some adequate nourishment.

It dragged my sleepy butt out of bed at 5 AM and hiked 3 miles per hour (20 minutes per mile, faster than I've ever moved out here) all the way down the mountain until the McDonald's was in sight. And then...the feast! I kid you not folks, I consumed more than 2,500 calories in less than an hour. AND I WAS NOT FULL. I STILL ATE MORE.

It's official. My body does not trust my brain to feed it anymore. It has installed an "override all controls" switch, and it is not afraid to use it when necessary. Basically anytime I'm near town food. It sounds kinda scary, but this is probably for the best. My body is definitely not gonna let me starve out here!

Full post coming this weekend to recap the week's events!

5/15 Idyllwild to Big Bear Lake

There's no getting around it. This week was HARD.

I got trapped in Idyllwild for two and a half days due to the snow. Over 100 hikers were stuck, just like me. Everyone was really anxious to get back on the trail, not knowing when we would be able to, and it turned into horrible anxiety cyclone that sucked everything up into it's whirling vacuum and smashed all our hope and happiness to smithereens.

But then the snow stopped!

We hiked out Devil's Slide Trail, which ascends from 6,000 ft to 9,000 ft elevation in about 2.5 miles. That is rough on a normal day. In the snow, it was AGONY. It was very slow going, and it would've been totally miserable if not for the views.

Never in my life did I think I'd spend an entire day walking above the cloud line. I highly recommend it.

The climb was, as I said, extremely challenging. I only managed about 10 PCT miles that day because I took the detour up to the summit San Jacinto, the second highest mountain in SoCal at just shy of 11,000 ft. Elevation is hard! Everyone experienced different effects from the elevation gain, from nausea to light-headedness, but with some mild dizziness and no shortage of effort, I made it to the top!

Woohoo!

It grew very cold as the sun was going down, so we had to skedaddle pretty quick. I wanted to get down out of the high elevation before I camped, but after a few miles and steadily increasing exhaustion and steadily decreasing daylight, I gave up and camped with my friends Jim and Richard, from Great Britain and Australia respectively. They saw how tired and defeated I was and offered me a cup of tea, which made my night.

The next morning, Mother's Day morning, I woke up EARLY and packed up quickly and quietly so as not to wake Jim and Richard. I wanted to hike fast to catch up to the Color Wheel, Sage, and Aesop, who had opted out of the summit and hiked ahead that morning. I managed to catch Sage and Aesop by about 6 AM, but Color Wheel was gunning for the trail angel's house 20 miles away WAYYYYY down in the desert at a mere 1,600ft. If I was going to catch her, it meant I would have to hike a hard 20 miles down from 8,000 ft in the heat of the day (which would only get hotter as I got closer to the desert floor). I resolved to try, only to try, to get as close as I could to the trail angel's house. The first bit was hard and steep, but as I kept going I got into a good groove and started to fly. I had an umbrella that worked now, so the sun was off my back, and I was jamming to some great tunes while I walked. Around noon I took a short break to air out my scorched feet, and has just enough service to call my momma just as she was wrapping up lunch with my whole family. It was so great to talk to my mom, my dad and brothers, my aunt, uncle, and cousins on speaker! Lifted my spirits for the afternoon. I met a girl named Scorpia who hiked the last 10 miles to the house with me. She was awesome, and I couldn't have done my first 20 mile day without her. I got to call my mom again when I finally got off the mountain. Good Mother's Day!

So I arrived, a little worse for the wear, at Ziggy and The Bear's house. Ziggy and The Bear are the sweetest old couple who have been hosting hikers for the better part of the last 20 years, and they are GREAT at it. I wish I hadn't been so shell-shocked from my 24 mile day, or I would've taken pictures. They had awnings and a phone charging station and a shower out back and a sink to do laundry. It was heaven in the desert. I got in pretty late so I only had enough time to cook a meager dinner for myself in my pot and fall fast asleep in the yard under the stars. It was incredible.

In the morning, it was hot and sunny. I showered and did some laundry and spent the day lounging in the shade to hide from the 115 degree sun and rest from the day before. I hiked out at 5 PM as the sun was setting and the desert finally became cool. It was a hard hike up out of the desert, but the reward was an awesome hike into the canyons by the light of my headlamp, the stars, and the lights of Palm Springs in the distance. An added bonus was the best campsite yet, on a soft white sand beach by a crystal clear stream ensconced by red rock canyon walls. Incredible!

So by this point, I was starting to really feel the effects of several days of intense elevation gain and loss. In particular, a nasty blister on my right pinky toe had popped up, and was starting to travel up to the toenail. I'm rather attached to all ten of my toenails, each one holding a small, sometimes underappreciated importance to me, but it didn't seem like I was going to have a lot of control over whether I would keep them all or not. Nothing I did seemed to helped. Every day I put my shoes on and every step felt like I had crammed a rock in between my toe and the tip of the shoe. Irony had arrived: feet were happy no more.

The first few miles were the roughest each day. I had to relearn how to tune out the pain and just walk. There was nothing else I could do. I told myself about all the other horrible things that hurt more than toe blisters. I recited lyrics and motivational quotes in my head. I tried to distract myself with memorizing tracks in the sand belonging to the boots of friends ahead of me, or counting the clouds or the cacti I passed. Finally I would just laugh, at myself, at the stupid pain, at life and it's intricacies. Ultimately, the trail would provide, as it always does, and it would send me a friend to talk to or an amazing view to lift my spirits.

 See that snow camped mountain in the distance? That's San Jacinto. Yeah. I climbed that.

Delicate desert flowers

It was a hard hike for the next few days. I did 10 miles, 24 miles, 7 miles, 15 miles, a very tired 12 miles, and finally made it to Big Bear in a last ditch effort mad dash of 18 miles by 1 PM to evade ANOTHER snowstorm. I made it to town just as the clouds, the winds, and the cold rolled in. I stayed in a hostel in town, ate some good food, drank some good beer with some good friends, and filled my food bag to the brim in preparation for the next week's hike to Wrightwood. The snow finally ceased, so hopefully I'll be out of here soon!

P.S. my toe healed, and I get new shoes tomorrow!

The best trail magic yet! Eugene, a.k.a. Ellen Boxers, on a magic pull-out couch next to a dumpster full of fresh fruit and soda!

Warner Springs to Idyllwild

Currently stuck in Idyllwild taking some more-or-less mandatory zero days due to weather. Not very happy about it. Here's what I've been up to lately!

5/3 (10 miles): Hiked into Warner Springs early this morning, another 4am wake-up that paid off with another 10-by-10. Cool sunrise, and breakfast at Eagle Rock (see pictures from last post). Warner Springs had a community center with camping, bathrooms, showers, laundry, a small shop, and EPSOM SALT FOOT BATHS. Very sweet people. No hot food though! Which, of course, is very dear to a hungry hiker's heart, so we did some googling and found out about a brand new mom-and-pop style pizza joint 8 miles outside town. Linda from the resource center drove myself and three other hiker gals to the joint, and we ordered 10 pizzas, 9 for the hiker trash and one for us to eat while we waited. And did we wait! I kid you not, over TWO HOURS later, we finally had all nine pizzas in hand and one in stomachs, and we arrived back at the community center with pizza for all. They say don't feed the animals, but trail magic has a way of working miracles.

5/4 (16 miles): I went to the post office right when it opened to pick up some food I'd sent myself to get me to the next town, as well as my new lightweight one person tent! Yes...I caved. My pack was still well over 45lbs with food and water, and we had some major elevation changes coming up. Plus, I was having some shin splint troubles. I found a tent from Big Agnes on Backcountry's website for sale and just went for it. BEST decision I have made on the trail yet. My pack felt so much better after the switch, I felt I could've skipped joyfully down the trail, 3+ liters of water and all. I didn't get to use it that first night though. I had heard a rumor of a trail angel bunkhouse at the next major water source, and it turned out to be true. Hot pasta dinner, beds, beer, but it was kind of a sketchy joint. Not a lot of rules up there on the mountain. They didn't have bathrooms, but they did have a firing range, ATVs, and an awful lot of a substance that, let's just say, is not illegal in California anymore. I had hiked in to the place by myself, but Color Wheel and Nina were there when I showed up. Thank goodness, or I would've left pretty quick. We reserved a females-only trailer with three beds for ourselves. It had a bit of a musty smell and was quite cluttered, but it kept us warm and out of the wind. We slept well, despite our minor concerns that, if ever there was a place one might be axe-murdered, this was probably it.

5/5 (17 miles): I had so much energy this day! We left the sketchy bunkhouse later than we'd hoped, around 6:30am, so the sun was up already while we got the morning's kinks out of our legs. The first two miles are always hardest. Hiker hobble is rough stuff. But a cold front was coming in so it was a lot cooler. We started a pretty long descent around 9 or so. Poor Color Wheel took a tumble on our way down, tripped over her poles and landed face first in the dirt. Nothing too bad, just a knee scrape and a bruise on her eyebrow. And she was covered in dirt. I'm glad I was there when she fell for two reasons. One, she fell and hit her head, so I could sit with her a while and make sure she hadn't gotten a concussion, which she hadn't. And two, the way she fell was SO funny! It was like those AFV moments, arms flailing, gear flying everywhere, it was almost even slow motion. I wish I'd gotten it on video! Anyway, I hiked the rest of the day mostly by myself. I got into a really good groove despite the afternoon heat. I've been hydrating like a rock star since Scissors Crossing, and with my lighter pack it's easier to carry extra water. Got my first dose of true hiker hunger too. I ate three breakfasts, cooked three servings of couscous and chicken for lunch, snacked every thirty minutes all day, topped it all off with a huge pot of Mac and cheese with coconut cream, and STILL my stomach roared. Unbelievable! We had such a great campsite that night too, this big sandy spot surrounded by enormous boulders that shielded us from the wind. The sand was very fine and soft to sleep on, and my new tent was super cozy.

5/6 (8 miles): Got up early again to hike in to Idyllwild, mostly because on the way there's a cafe and so help me I was going to have eggs and bacon for breakfast if it KILLED me. Fortunately it didn't come to that, and I had a fairly pleasant, albeit quite cold hike in to the cafe. That cold front got a lot worse, bringing a sharp wind with it. I certainly didn't expect to have sub-40 degree weather at 10 AM in the desert. A trail angel friend of ours from Mt Laguna gave Color Wheel and I a ride to town, and told us a nasty storm was coming. Said we might want to consider staying in town a few days. Lo and behold, he was right. They are predicted 6 inches of snow above 6000ft (we're at 5500ft here in town, and the trail goes up). So.....

5/7 (0 miles...ugh): I really don't like zero days. But this one can't be helped. Every hiker we know is staying. The winds are supposed to get up to 50 miles an hour up in the high country above us. They're already 30mph here. And the snow has started. But lord help me, I hate this sitting still. Town is a vortex. It takes all your money and wastes all your time. You still wake up at 5:30 AM, despite the opportunity to sleep in, and your body's saying "Hey! How come you're not hiking?". You eat town food, which tastes great and has tons of calories you will need on the trail, but you don't get to use them right away. Everyone is super antsy and bummed. So, to lift everyone's spirits, we hosted a hiker potluck in our cabin! We had a kitchenette, and a vegan hiker named Rusty offered to cook for everyone so we all contributed something. There was roasted veggies, homemade bruschetta with Mama Barbee's pesto (Thanks mom! Everyone loved it!) and we all sat around the fireplace and drank cheap wine and beer and one guy brought a ukulele and we had a really nice time. Everyone left at 10, which is insanely late when you're on hiker time where 9 PM is "midnight".

5/8 (0 miles again): Woke up to a few inches of snow on the ground already, and still coming down. My plan is to hike out in the morning as early as possible. I'm even more anxious than I was yesterday, just itching to be back out there. I think I need some alone time especially. There's a ton of hikers here in town so it's a little crowded and very social. I'm looking forward to some peace, quiet, and a bit more privacy tomorrow.

Here's some photos from this week.

Keep your fingers crossed for clear skies and warm sun in the morning! No more snow!

5/3 Julian to Warner Springs Highlights

My last post was on the serious side, so here's some fun pictures and memories from the last three days hike from Julian, CA to Warner Springs, CA:

Stayed at a campground with a pool for our first zero day!

 Hiker babes! 

Me, Claudia, Color Wheel, and Nina

 Sunrise hiking is the best hiking

Midday sun shelter. We were proud of the accomplishment of making our own shelter at the time of this photo. Four very hot hours later we were not so happy.

 Sunrise hike into Warner Springs through these amazing mountain pastures

 Color Wheel walking into the dawn!

 Fields of Rohan! LOTR anyone?

Not hiking anymore guys, kay, just gonna fly to Canada PEACE!

More updates next weekend in Idyllwild!

One Hundred

Yesterday was a hard day for me. We're in the desert for real now, and I know this because it is hot. It's not a sticky, sweaty, blatantly suffocating east coast heat, but a sneaky, invisible, creep-up-on-you-from-behind kind of heat. I've never experienced heat like this before. It's inescapable. One wrong move can land you squarely in its trap. Most hikers here have been hiding out the worst heat of the day, choosing to hike early in the morning and late into the evening. Between 11 AM and 5 PM seems to be the hottest hours. Hiking with an umbrella is recommended even in the mornings, and, as I found out, extremely effective for hiking under the sun. I bought one for myself in Julian.

Yesterday my group found a breezy spot and jerry-rigged some shade for the three of us out of our tarps and we attempted to sleep the afternoon away until it was safe to hike. We did not have much success. Even under the shade of the tarps it was pretty hot. I checked my thermometer around noon and it read 100 degrees. At 3 PM we had a stretch of cloud cover that cooled it off enough that we felt confident leaving our makeshift shelter. Besides, we were antsy and wanted to walk. So we packed up, rigged up our umbrellas, and hiked on.

As is common under similar circumstances, Murphy dealt us an interesting hand. The sun came back right away of course, but the breeze was still good, so we kept going. I stopped briefly after a bit to go to the bathroom. I knew it would be easy to catch the girls, since we were walking slow in the heat. When I strapped my pack back on and reopened my umbrella, a breeze caught it and it flipped inside out. I pulled it down and it flipped up again immediately. One more try and I looked up and realized two of the metal braces had snapped in half. The thing was useless. Typical. That's what I get for paying $5 for an umbrella.

I took the umbrella down and put it away in my pack, cursing and dooming the cruddy thing to the next trash bin I laid my eyes on. By this time it was nearly 4PM, and I'd done slightly more than a mile. The girls were probably about 10 minutes up from me and there was another group about 10 minutes behind. I took a swig from my water bottle and suddenly realised I was parched. I drank several gulps and was still not satisfied. I took a moment to take stock of my reserves. I had a liter and a half of water, and 7 miles to the next water source. Uh oh. The usual rule is 4 miles = 1 liter, unless it's hot out. By technical standards, I was short. Now, by this point, I'm starting to get mad at myself. I should've filled one more bottle at my last source. Should've asked the girls to wait while I peed so we weren't split up. Shouldn't have left the shelter so early. I start hiking quicker to catch up to the girls, but I'm tired, and the brush is thicker than usual. It's scratching up my legs and arms. Why does everything in the desert have sharp edges and thorns? Every branch I pass seems bent on detaining me. Suddenly, my pack catches on a particularly thick cluster, and for a moment I am held captive. I free myself in the next instant, but my frustration with this whole situation has now come to a boiling point. Fearful and angry tears well in my eyes, my face flashes hot, and my already-labored breathing threatens sobs.

But the sobs don't come. I don't break down. No time for that. I release the frustration in a long steady breath. My mind commands calmness. It's telling me:

"This is ok, it really isn't as bad as it seems. You have people ahead of you and behind you who you can easily ask for help, you can humble yourself and let go of your pride. You have your safety net. But listen...you chose this. You asked to be here. You wanted this. So let's do it."

I set a pace for my water intake. I know I won't need as much after 5 when the sun starts to go down, and that's not even an hour away. I pick a happy familiar song to hum in my head to help pass the time and the miles. "American Pie" by Don McLean ought to do it. I allow myself a pause every time a good cooling breeze blows past. I focus on how pretty the mountains look in the waning light. Before I know it the temperature has dropped to a comfortable 70 and I have four miles to go, on an easy downhill with just over a liter left in my bottle. See? Not so bad. The day's hike has become enjoyable even.

Before long, I come around a bend and spy Anne sitting beside the trail. I wave to her in greeting, unbelievably happy to see a familiar face. She waves back, and points to a pile of rocks lying next to the trail next to her. I arrive at the pile and see it is actually a written sign.

I have walked 100 miles. And I didn't even realize it until I got there. I got to 100 miles amidst all the barriers and challenges. I thought about all the fun and the beauty and everything amazing those 100 miles brought me. 100 miles couldn't beat me.

I looked over at Anne and said, "That's all? Bring on 200!"