Some Celebrate, I Cry

I had chosen to share some childhood memories before the great departure for the PCT, but they were deemed too sad for such a happy space, so they were removed. I believe this is different since these tears are for so many reasons, even if Caleb can’t understand why I’m so upset. I’m going to miss what the trail could’ve been, especially with so many good memories already.

I spent the day crying over the loss of Caleb’s dream, something he’s wanted for years and spent the last month watching me do in pieces, so we could still spend time together while one of us got to hike. He’s done with the hike and the people and the dirt roads. He’s done being in pain and feeling like an outsider, as anyone would who isn’t putting in the miles.

Caleb didn’t know that I wanted this more than I knew and wasn’t prepared to have me so sad. This will be a huge adjustment, even with all the zero days, as I had planned to poop in the woods for months and we just got out of the desert and have to leave the beautiful forest behind. I’m not ready to return to society and the reality that brings. I enjoyed having my phone on airplane mode, choosing between two outfits, and spending the day in nature.

Back with all the non-hikers, I will have to pay rent, drive to the store, and sit on a toilet. This also means a return to school, which I knew would happen, but I now feel rushed into. People will expect me to answer the phone and check my mail (which the post office still can’t figure out after two months). Their new anti-fraud system is a bit trash when the employees haven’t been properly trained.

Caleb doesn’t know what to do either as he feels overwhelmed. He doesn’t want to return to the trail this year as he feels he’s already missed so much and might just get hurt again. This affects his opinion on whether to attempt it next year when we already have travel and education plans. He doesn’t want to camp because being outside means being on your feet. He doesn’t want to burden his family but Airbnb’s cost way more when not sharing one with hikers.

We have to patch my tent pad by finding the hole in the tub in Bishop. We stop at the ER on our way out of town, way better service here, but nothing on the x-ray that requires a special shoe (not even an offer from the last one), so Caleb is given some gauze and wished good luck. He’s told to ice and elevate it, which we’ve heard before. We’ll have dinner in a Love’s parking lot before I call it a day some 400 miles from where we started.

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Day 40 – The Last Mile

There’s a bathroom near the campground and I unknowingly went the long way to get there, i.e., around the tents and yurts instead of behind the trailer. There are two sinks, two toilet rooms, and three showers, but those are behind a locked gate. I suppose hikers before us trashed this area, or other campers, but it should still be an option to pay for – a shower without the breeze blowing under the door.

pool at Grumpy Bears Retreat

I almost don’t recognize Hoochie Mama this morning as he has on all his clothes, balaclava included, to keep out the cold. He shows me his cowboy camping system – a sleeping bag with a net for the upper top half to keep the bugs away. I walk with Polish to breakfast and let everyone there see her face when I announce that they (the kitchen) are not making (pizza-size) pancakes today. They are the size of two diner plates, but only served on one.

Greg, Trailer Park and Hungry Bear, Hillbilly

The first pancake served to Lyric at 810 is the last one finished on the porch at 1030. He is one of three (Hillbilly and Kaito being the other two) to accomplish this feat. Dobby will take leftovers in a gallon bag. His mom showed up last night and plans to spend a few weeks hiking with her son. It will change his fast lone-hiker status but he seems eager to get back on the trail. I will be one of the people helping finish pancakes, as I know better than to attempt this beast.

Polish, Nightcap, Dogman

Lyric’s dad arrives and tells us that had his son been a girl his name would be Melody as his wife plays the piano. I’m not sure if she’s a professional but we all think it is as unique as he is. We take Dobby and his mom to get his hiking poles and hat that he left at the store, get distracted there (me eating freeze-dried raspberry-infused apple), and then stop the car so he can run back for them. We give them a head start, because we have to park the car, and then also walk north.

PCT in Kennedy Meadows

We make it a mile to a gate, and Caleb’s foot is bothering him, so we turn around. Caleb is ready to leave, so I suggest I can hike out when we get back, but he is done not spending time with me when we were supposed to do this trail together. I drop Howie and girlfriend, a guy with the same fox gaiters as me, and Iceman to the trailhead. I give Polish her boxes to mail and take TeaTime to the store.

view from the 395

Polish lets me know there’s a sticker from her to us at Grumpy’s. We grab it on our way out at 2pm. We stop in Big Pine to mail her postcards and then again for sandwiches from Erick Schat’s Bakkery in Bishop where we get a room for the night. I stopped in the street, with hazards on, to offer “Crackhead” a ride to the hostel, but this hiker turned us down, even though we looked like nice people.

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Day 39 – Happy Birthday Flower

view from General Store

I don’t quite feel like climbing out of the tent just yet, so I’ll wait until Caleb returns in need of the car key, to tell myself I can sleep tonight, since I didn’t very well last night, but the day is upon me so I must participate. It’s easier to rise when you have a goal or plan to get through, not as much when the sunlight is spent going back and forth between two places spaced three miles apart.

The guys are in their morning attire – coats and sandals – while they eat pancakes with their choice of M&Ms or blueberries. While I help Trailer Park finish his syrup-soaked carbs, Hillbilly lets the group know that Soccer Mom stopped by his tent last night and whispered, “Jess” and carried on when he heard, “no.” It makes sense that he would go to another two-person tent, but also, this is why phones and headlamps come with a light.

by Grumpy’s campground

We sing “Happy Birthday” to Flower and her surprised and giddy reaction is worth it. She already has a Bobo’s birthday cake oat bar waiting, but if we can do anything else to help set this day apart, then I’m in. We have decided to camp at Grumpy Bears tonight as they offer free showers and laundry to their guests, which we make full use of while Caleb sets up the tent in the distance.

I met Elf, the Italian woman who was gifted a pair of my shoes via Soccer Mom, and she is still very grateful. I drive back to the store to pick up Rachel and wait while she paints Greg’s nails. I’ll watch Beacon paint postcard-size images previously captured on her phone. She’s an artist, a climber, and a teacher, which is why she is hiking the PCT in sections. Being on the trail comes with so many opportunities for solitude and companionship.

Rachel was napping in a hammock, which is outside of the provided wifi range, so she didn’t get my message that Grumpy’s was going to bake brownies for the birthday girl. This is the reason I drove back but Flower couldn’t be found, so we took three guys back with us instead. Caleb and I walk over to TCO (Triple Crown Outfitters) with Trailer Park so he can rent a bear can.

There are free stickers (not good ones) outside along with some coloring pages and a range of nail polishes. Inside has food, clothes, gear, and a purple bandana for 2025 with the PCT map that can be used to hitch between town and trail. The years prior are on the ceiling along with their lists of popular resupply points that have grown with the crowds (way fewer people here than in NYC on NYE).

the path to sleep

I’m asked if I want to wait for the birthday girl to show or just have the brownies made and hope she gets one. They are fudgy and delicious; I will have two while the others decide on their next round of shots. I take half the brownies to Flower, we sing, and then return to Grumpy’s for live music and more shots. A local buys a few rounds to keep the party going.

Rachel gets her hair braided by the same woman after the bartender and then paints Kaito’s nails. Rapunzel lets us know the pool is locked and dirty. Hoochie Mama shows up and there are more shots ordered, beer drank, food eaten, laughs had, showers taken, and camps set up. Caleb and I will walk to our tent at dusk while Greg and Dogman answer last call.

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Day 38 – Rachel Gets a Trail Name

We’re up early but Caleb is not in a rush. We break down camp as we know it will be easier to sleep by the general store tonight than trying to bring people up to our site to hang out and delivering them back to their beds; especially when I’m going to sleep before them. We leave our packs behind as I’ve guessed Rachel is only six miles away and bring a liter of water each.

The road walk is one mile and then we’re headed south through a verdant and expansive landscape. We follow the Kern River as it winds through the valley at varying distances from the trail; our footsteps are the only ones in this direction. After three miles I figured out my mistake (that Rachel must be twice as far) and we turned around because we hadn’t eaten yet and were already low on water.

We eat and someone notices Rachel. As is tradition here, one person rings the cowbell and the rest of us clap in acknowledgment that the hiker has survived the desert. She is surprised Trailer Park didn’t pass her last night, as she was camped ten miles away. We wait for his arrival before driving over to Grumpy Bears so they can check it out. Back at the General Store, Matthew, who used to hike with Yogi and helped with her trail guide, will talk our ear off through the afternoon.

Matthew makes me think his adventures were in the 80s, but he’d have only been ten years old. His intentions are good, and he wants to do more for hikers, but he is currently waiting a few years for the retirement funds to do so. Sew Job and TeaTime arrived when no one was looking. Umi gets the most claps and is followed in by Ben, Trail Daddy, and Beacon. We drive back over to Grumpy Bears for dinner.

We are joined by White Trash, Valentin, Trailer Park, and Zumi (Umi’s new trail name) who sweats while struggling to balance eating jalapeños on his triple-patty burger in the sun. We move the table around the patio but the closer that large star gets to the horizon, it just continues to chase our faces with its fiery gaze. When the shuttle arrives, we all return to the shady deck filled with other hikers and buckets of beer.

Zumi showed us pictures of his late night in Ridgecrest where some trail angels took him in, fed him, then took him back to the desert to shoot a handgun (9mm) and rifle (.22), the machine gun being too scary for his first time. All the other hikers wanted the same experience but they knew that even though Americans have a thing for accents, they have a special place in their hearts for Japanese hikers.

Beacon, Sew Job, Dobby, Soccer Mom, White Trash, Valentin, Flower, Ben, Hillbilly, Zumi, Rapunzel       Not here: Polish, Trailer Park, TeaTime, Trail Daddy

Rachel will cement her new name, Polish, by applying two coats of purple or blue to at least 15 hikers before sunset. It is so much fun to witness a guy’s first time having his nails painted as they act more dainty in hopes of not damaging the color. It’s too bad the dirty nail tips are the first to be exposed as having them covered makes one feel just a little bit cleaner, but that’s not the hiker trash way. Caleb is up at least an hour and a half later than me talking about baguettes.

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Day 37 – Hello Kennedy Meadows

We leave the motel early to drive to a version of Discount Tire (meaning each location has a variation on their name so they don’t have to honor their nationwide warranty, even in the same state). If a company offers this, it should come with a map of their other locations and transparency of that charge, as the guy in Redlands, after hearing our situation, tried to secretly charge us for a service he knew we couldn’t use.

Anywho, we left there 70 minutes later with a leaky bottle of permethrin. Caleb was able to soak some of it up with his shirt. We will deal with the rest later. We drive north and though we have time to camp at Fossil Falls, about 12 miles north up the 395 from the Kennedy Meadows turnoff, I remind Caleb of the 100° F afternoon temps we would have to sit through to get to the starry views (which are always worth a little sweat and discomfort).

We turn onto 9 Mile Canyon Rd. and are pleasantly surprised when we don’t hit dirt road (as the navigation warned). It’s a lovely drive and Hillbilly recognizes us and waves as we walk up. Others are quick to say hi to Soccer Mom before we go inside to pick up a package that comes with a $4 fee to do so. It’s only a dollar per box after that. We are given free Class of 2025 stickers, which feels like an even exchange.

Ranger at Kennedy Meadows

I meet Archive, known for her need to write down the answer to every question she asks. I don’t feel like being interviewed, but perhaps she’ll put together a neat infographic of the data she has collected. The sleeping cat is named Ranger and three dirty dogs are running around outside. There are two tables and a few boxes of used hiker gear to go through. There are charging stations, boxes for recycling, and a $5 fee for a shower or to use the washing machine.

All laundry is dried on a line and all camping is free. There are vehicle accessible spots three miles up a rough road, potholes turned into Joker smiles that leave drainage ditches to drive over. Perhaps I’m exaggerating, but after two flat tires, I’m also hesitant to have to drive south again for a third replacement. We drive the loop and decide on a large spot with plenty of shade so that Caleb can set up the tent and then we can pack our bags for tomorrow’s hike.

We’ll be going south and returning here, but we will need our bear cans to continue north, so we swap out the items they are holding for a few days’ worth of food. Caleb uses the rest of the leaky permethrin bottle to spray our clothes. It’s still warm here and cooler by the store, so we decide to drive back down.

hiker box

Caleb gets out and attempts to help a camper back into a site, but the angle is wrong, and the driver’s skillset is not where it needs to be. (They find a spot with the help of Nightcap’s mom). I meet Flower, from Orlando, who is Hillbilly’s partner. She is resting here with a stress fracture and hoping to be back on the trail in a couple of weeks. I didn’t realize how popular or common this is, but it makes sense as an overuse injury.

Hillbilly will celebrate her birthday in two days and then continue north. Simba (part of his last name, not from his mane) was doing 30-mile days in the desert and wants to slow down to 22 miles on average to enjoy the Sierras. We gave a couple a ride to Grumpy Bears Retreat since they serve dinner after 5, and the hikers had missed the shuttle (ran between 1030am and 7pm daily).

Back at the store, we watch a group (Adam, Uhaul,  and Iris) debate leaving or returning to camp to set up their tents again. We let them know there’s another campsite just over two miles up the trail that will get them out of here (with a 12-pack in tow) and make it easier to leave in the morning; especially after already being here a few days. We leave shortly after they do, and I’m ready for sleep.

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