Yesterday was 18.4 miles, by my watch. Caleb, Rachel, and Gert go back half a mile or so to the Sunrise Highway junction, where it’s a quarter mile to a water source. The other two had planned to leave at 5am but were just as tired as we were. They leave at 6am, and we are half an hour behind, so we skip breakfast to get on the trail.

Ravi asks if we have spare water, twice, but it’s the most precious resource out here, and he was already offered water that he turned down. He will take off at a quick clip as Gert has offered to get him more food in Julian after giving him a few items from his pack. I know that it saves weight but I had our night cocoa with my breakfast the other morning, so I would only offer my unused coffee packets, as food is necessary also.

I’m sore and exhausted and feel at about 50% of my potential. We go slow and steady up a truck road; if you don’t lean forward you will fall back. We stop in the shade three-quarters of the way up for a snack at 9am. We see a random ball of red in the bush but leave it unpicked as it’s unidentified. The views are incredible but the heat is already hitting us from above and from the cooked earth below. Cactus are in bloom while we feel like withering into a tub of ice.

Just before a cattle guard, I feel like I’m going to be swallowed into the sand like a scene out of Dune, and a man hiding in the shade next to water hears me cry out, “Whoo, that almost got me!” and of course has to ask as it could be a rattler waiting for him. He points out a shade bush and we quickly take our noon refuge. I finish my dinner and then my breakfast. Caleb waits for the man to walk south before taking his spot near the water.

We’re not ready to leave, but the sun is slowly encroaching on our shade, so we have no choice but to press on. We both drink water just to the point of nausea and I have remembered my nightly chapstick to keep my lips from splitting open. Part of the path looks safe for cliff-diving cats of prey and the goats they’re after. We stay as close as we can when rocks and bushes don’t push us closer to the thin edge.

We were warned that the first part of the trail was physical and then, further on, it would be mental, but people have to be crazy to traverse this crumbly mountainside. We agree there is no choice but to continue as others have preceded us and succeeded. Even worried about whether my bag or body would hit rock or bush first, I’m able to pause and appreciate the snake watching me from his spot in the shade.

We pass a man with a mustache at 3pm as he’s finishing a break. He will pass us when we find a tall rock to hide beside for a minute and we watch him fall. He assures us he’s fine as it’s not the first time, even with trekking poles which pose a hazard of their own. The cactus grows closer to the trail as we continue and the wind brings temporary relief. The ant population increases activity as the high heat of the day is over.

We find a sloped spot under a rock about three miles from the road but are determined to get to Julian tonight, about a 17-mile hitch into town. The rest of today’s trail is flat and has a few jackrabbits crossing to keep up motivation. We almost take the last tent site but hope that the man behind us at least makes it there for some reprieve tomorrow. It’s about 0.7 miles to Scissors Crossing which is marked as a PCT parking lot on the map.

The fence is open, though, so we pop onto the road, and after giving a kind wave to four cars, the fifth pulls over with PCT Trail Rides written on the door. We are offered an air-conditioned ride as long as we are willing a 20-minute detour to help two other hikers. At this point, we would have slept in her car while she ran errands all night. She’s concerned we’re out too late and even more worried about the 16-year-old in the American wilderness on his own.

I thought Ravi was turning 18 in a few weeks, but he has the trail on his side as hikers look out for each other, after self-preservation, of course. We drop an umbrella to one hiker and return another to get back on the trail. We’re fine on the straight road and when not facing the sun but the windshield is bright white otherwise. She managed to not make two turkey road sandwiches and we arrived safely in Julian at 645pm.

We’ve only ever day-tripped to Julian and expected inside prices to be high. Outside offers a cot and mosquitoes for $10 a night, the bed & breakfast offers just that – and a dark blanket for dirty hikers. Check-in is very small-town friendly, and we notice Gert and Ravi’s names in the guest book, but we’re on a time constraint to wash quickly and get to dinner before the restaurant closes at 8pm.

We use almost a bar of soap, scrubbing as many body cubbies as we can reach and washing our hair at least twice before throwing on our cleanest dirty clothes and camp shoes and walking very quickly about a block away to Julian Beer Co. On a day visit, this town only seems like a block long, but after 17-ish or more miles in the desert, it’s a journey to salad and conversation.

I have a drink waiting for me and we clink glasses upon my arrival. Caleb had to order half a chicken to go on our otherwise meatless salads, and Rachel ordered the table some garlic cheese bread to go with their pepperoni pizza. Gert found some shoes in the hiker box, along with stakes for a circus tent, a home water purifier system, and a jar of peanut butter. I can’t imagine carrying that much weight.

The shoes are too small for him, but he will offer them to Denver, who is staying on a cot nursing her heel and toe blisters until she can arrange to go home with the possibility of returning. I tell her she definitely should as I realize how many people section hike in a year and how others take years to complete this beast of beauty and burden.