We are up at 330 because though I want miles, I’m not willing to hike in the dark to get them. Caleb drops the four of us at Big Rock Camp at 515am. It’s 63°F, we are around 5,000 ft. of elevation, and only two miles of climbing away from the PCT at Vincent Gap. Trailer Park took his coffee for a walk and Rachel ran up the hill, with her rain pants on.

Gert is feeling much better and leaves me to hike at my own pace. This will be my first time alone on the trail and it’s half-freeing while also reminding me that others are waiting because Caleb is tracking me, even if he knows to get to the meeting point and hour or two earlier for Trailer Park. Back on the trail, I had to walk with my feet at an angle due to the steepness.

I see Gert again while he’s on his break after two hours of hiking, it had been every hour when he started, but the threat of heat and lack of water is a great motivator. I stop for a snack at 8 as all this huffing and puffing, just to hopefully only be an hour behind the group, is exhausting. I felt great when I woke up but now it feels like it’s already 2pm.

Gert passed Rachel and I feel like he gave her the “wait on Jess” baton, but she’ll let me know she did because I don’t have FarOut and could get lost when the trail splits. We will hike to the summit together and reach it before 9. Gert is on the phone, there are a few trail runners, and Trailer Park is long gone. I borrow Rachel’s pen to sign a random page in the stack of hiker logs and take a quick selfie before slumping in the shade.

I have a snack, and as Gert packs up, I’m ready to go. Rachel says she’ll catch up, because she has trail legs now and has been faster downhill than us. We are still making good time and we notice the red tint in bark and on rocks. Gert will get ahead on the inclines and wait at an intersection to point me in the right direction before going on.

The people who use this trail weekly let us know that we are a mile from the Little Jimmy Campground (currently closed to cars) which is two miles from the day use only parking lot. Gert and I use this as a snack spot to wait for Rachel who is just minutes behind. Gert gets behind a couple and when they let him pass, I see him start to jog like he can see Caleb with ice cream sandwiches.

We reach Islip Saddle to the sounds of Trailer Park and return noise at him. He saw Ravi and last heard that Caleb was stuck in traffic. There’s a campground across the street but the road is closed, so Caleb had to drive around. While we wait, a trail angel from El Salvador, who’s been in California for 40 years, delivers us pizza and baked goods and offers us one beer and cold waters.

While we eat, he sips the beer and tells us about his motorcycle collection. We see Caleb pull in, but we’re behind the vault toilet (we’ll take shade where we can get it) so he has to walk around to find us. It’s then that I see the poo paper nearby and call this meeting to an end. We find a spot at Buckhorn Camp and spread out so we can have a table in shade and the other in sunlight.

I am worn out and lie on the picnic bench in a nap-filled daze until Caleb mentions dinner, and Gert helps me up. I have to potty but the vault toilet smells so terrible that I must find a tree. I thought I’d get used to having to go inside those terrible contraptions, but they shut my body down. I’ve seen lots of pads in hiker boxes and they’re either buried or carried out. There’s a reason people bring a bidet and hand sanitizer.

The group is going to bed at 430, so I’m not the only one exhausted, but they are also hiking out tomorrow. I use a wet handkerchief to wipe down my dirty legs but am still too sweaty to sleep. There are also woodpeckers, my sore neck from last night, someone chopping wood, and I have a headache. There’s a guy who sounds like Ravi who is joining the two guys across from us.

Our bear box is full of trash and the ladies next to us sound like they’re at a wine bar and cackling to attract the opposite sex. The rest of my dinner is in the car, so I grab a snack from my bag and finish my water with electrolytes even though I’m over getting out of the tent repeatedly to pee. I will attempt to sleep again at 7pm and make it two hours before other campers’ lights are shining on our home.

This, of course, means I have to get out of the tent again and wake Caleb when my top gets stuck to my earring, let alone the noise my tent pad makes. I’m still hungry and there’s snoring. Writing about all this now, I feel better. I can’t push myself to keep up with the others all day and expect to function properly. I also should’ve been able to pass out as usual, but not every day should be the same.