Gert and Rachel leave camp at 620 and we’ll be about 15 minutes behind, as usual. I spent the morning drying wet clothes in the hand dryer while the four of us shared the three stalls in the open bathroom. Not everything is dry, but we don’t want to waste the cool part of the day, so we put moist clothes on top and pass two other thru-hikers on our way back to the trail.

There’s a water fountain with a plaque on it but there’s no water. This will be the condition of most of the sources that those who went before us could rely on to keep their pack weight down and their body alive. We have to carry more water. Ravi passed us at 7am and will again at 8am as we passed him having breakfast. This morning is beautiful. I stopped for a ladybug picture as Rachel was telling us how she murdered them on accident as a child on the playground and still feels guilty.

We were going to stop in a bit of shade but a poor bird beat us to it, so we’ll leave it there and continue on to another cool spot on the ground provided by desert bushes. I see a garter snake later, and perhaps he’ll return for free lunch, but I think they prefer their food fresh. There are a lot of parts on the trail where if you don’t look down you will definitely sprain or break something. This is why stretch breaks for the neck, arms, back, and legs are so important.

My watch activity tracker thinks I’m out here on an elliptical since I use my trekking poles to balance over rocks, climb over them, and generally stabilize in the sand and over burrows dug in the trail (some collapse, leaving less foot space). Learning to use the poles is easy, either with the same or opposite foot or both at the same time, but you might step on one, or a bush grabs one, or a rock crevice takes hold.

We pass Ravi again at 10am and are averaging two mph. Little blue butterflies are welcome company as is wind, but not when it threatens to send my hat careening to its death off a cliff. I’m able to turn around quick enough, without falling myself, and stab it with my pole. I put the chin strap on and continue until we find another shade tree at noon. Ravi will pass us again. We all have a planned rendezvous at the Cleveland National Forest so we will see him again soon.

The cloud cover is convenient but the day is still warming up. We’ve stopped at Pioneer Mail Picnic Site to chat with our trail family, nap for an hour on acorn hats with our jackets on, and get our permits stamped and bag tags from a ranger. We refill our water and have dinner before 4pm so we can get another six or seven miles added to our eleven-mile morning. A fellow hiker has hurt her knee and chooses to spend the night.

Past the water source is a hall of fallen rocks and memorials. Later Gert will show us him posing on the concrete barrier wall that is holding the mountain up. The other end is Kwaaymii Point before the trail crosses over a turnaround point for cars. The PCT also travels along roads, sometimes hiding hikers in changing elevations and other times leaving us exposed for drivers’ viewing pleasure.

We get passed by a hiker with a permit tag on his bag that looks like it belongs to a day hiker. I suppose that’s the benefit of being fit enough to power walk up mountains (double our speed), something I was able to do up to Potato Chip Rock once and then catch up to my friend who chose to run down. Perhaps if I hadn’t broken a bone in each foot I would be more willing to take another risk, but an injury would only slow us more.

We had our tent opened between trail and bushes when Gert reminded us about the long walk to the water tomorrow and that both our watches were off on mileage count as we weren’t to the five-tent site as planned, so we’d have room for four tents. We saw two women in a large spot in the sun and assumed we had passed it. We would take another hour and a half to reach sleep for the night, but they saved us a large spot with some privacy.

I attempt to undress and set up my bed at the same time. I’m glad we’re not set on top of an anthill here, and I will think about the other half of my uneaten dinner as I pass out in a mixture of dirt and sweat. I’m accustomed to the late-night zippers and ground crunching as hikers are finding a pee bush or passing by and making use of the moonlight to reach their daily miles. We are only limited by our permits (with PCT thru-hiker discounts) but other travelers have visa restraints.