Caleb is getting water from the creek when I find him. I help carry it back to camp and then we walk and watch the birds and chipmunks around us. There is a phone signal some four miles from camp, so we drive there so I can edit and publish posts. I’ll get a bunch of writing done while we move between the sun and shade as the temperature changes throughout the day.

We stop at Parker Meadow and get to see Search and Rescue training in action. The tent and vehicle setup is similar to movie depictions, but the permission to throw rocks or use bear spray on the people running around in red shirts is only in real life. We see a bunch of four-wheelers and up on the hill, we hear, “I was fucking around with everyone else’s, I didn’t even put it in four wheel drive.” Each driver will wave as they pass.

We meet Red, one of the sheriff’s office’s trainers, who is looking forward to finishing her last 200 miles of the PCT with her husband Grizzly. We continue up the sandy path that sends little particles onto our pants and into our noses with every step. It seems more obvious here but it is also what happens every day on the PCT, which I’m sure occurs on other trails but I’ve never felt so dirty as I do walking through the desert.

The day-use lot and any campground spot are taken, as is the space near the entrance, when we return. Caleb will move the full-lot sign barrier as Darin recognizes us and calms a guy wanting to know where to go.. perhaps park near a no-parking sign like other vehicles on the road. We attempt to walk the trail in the afternoon but the amount of human traffic is too much.

We will go up the road and explore a softer sandy road down a decline to see more big trees, hidden in a valley, and plenty of piles of dead wood just waiting to burn in the next wildfire. We find an abandoned five-gallon shower bag in need of some repairs and it feels good to rinse my hands, even though the chipped polish shows how dirty my nails are, after a seven-mile day.