We’re up before the other campers and take our time on The Trail of 100 Giants while we have it to ourselves. We will make the over-hour-long drive into the town of Ducor, at 39 mpg, so that we have enough gas to make it up these hills. It’s another 13 miles to the Chinese Food Factory in Porterville where we can sit in the shade for two hours before Caleb is ready to return to the trees.

Music is rare these days, mostly because of choosing to hike without it, but also the choices available when the radio picks up a station. On our return, I will hear “One Minute Past Eternity” performed by Jerry Lee Lewis in 1969, and I think of how much Caleb loves me, just a bit more than the coast redwoods of national park fame. We got 39mpg going downhill but forgot to check the other direction.

With the picnic table back in the sun, I’m free to write offline. Caleb will get into the tent to read more comfortably after we watch a dad try to run over a tree. I’m glad it was there, though, or he’d have driven into our site. I watch the son move the car, again, but this time to air up a queen mattress to fit in their yurt with bunk beds and a futon. We’ll take a break from reading, writing, and people watching to stare at trees across the street.

We nickname our evening entertainment Timmy Tacticool due to the way he parades around his site with army reserve gear and a rude dog. He was sure to bring charcoal, wood, and gas, and to pick some grass to help start a fire. I have a visit from an aphid of the striped variety and a possible mayfly before we get in the car as the sun goes down. It’s too cold in the shade, even with my jacket on (though I can sweat in it while hiking).

The mosquitoes come out at night, so I can’t leave the car door open for fresh air once our hot breath has warmed the interior. This will get Caleb back in the tent, and I will be there shortly after. The wind has blown dust under our rainfly and onto our sleep gear. I suppose it’s no different than climbing in after a day of collecting dirt on the trail. Everything is always dirty.