Day 37 – Hello Kennedy Meadows

Posted on June 30, 2025 by TheJessicaness

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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Day 36 – Driving On a Donut

Posted on June 29, 2025 by TheJessicaness

Trailer Park makes sure we’re awake (not intentionally) when he leaves the room and the sun bounces off the wall and into our eyes. Trailer Park and Rachel will both get a chance to talk with the couple from yesterday who were so excited to meet hikers as the husband wanted to attempt the trail and the wife was hoping to lose him out there. We empty the hotel’s coffee pot, make what’s in the room, and return to the lobby for more.

Caleb calls to let me know that the sidewall on the front driver side blew out, in two spots, so it’s very unfixable. It’s also Sunday so I wasn’t sure when we’d get a replacement; turns out tomorrow morning. We check out at 11a, our latest ever, and spend the afternoon at Walmart, Grocery Outlet, and Marshall’s before going to see the longest movie the theater had playing. We were going to choose between some animated films, but F1 at 2.5 hours won.

We got there early, sneaking in meals and snacks, and still ordering from the counter as hikers do, expecting a half hour of previews. They don’t mess around here, there’s one and then it’s on with the show. I found myself rooting for the racers, easier to do when you don’t have to watch every loud and repetitive lap. The count varies and all but one race (Monaco GP) has to cover a minimum distance of 190 miles.

We arrive at Walker Pass and there are Forest Service firefighters at the table next to ours, so of course I ask what brings them here. They are orienting themselves with the areas they will have to navigate in less fire-free conditions and name Death Valley as one of the places on their list. Homeless walks out from under the tree he’s been living under for days to steal the conversation and ask if they have a special phone that gets signal here.

Once they drive off, to escape him, he meanders over to our table. He asks Rachel if she’s hiking in thongs, and she’d never heard that as a flip-flop synonym, so she’s shocked that he would ask that until he points to her sandals. He tells her his boots cost him $500 (only $180 for the rest of us) so he didn’t get a good deal. He also shares that he’s suffering from altitude sickness at 7000 ft. when we’re only at 5200 ft.

Eventually, our silence sends him on his way and we can watch Trailer Park and Rachel begin the last 50 miles that will take them into Kennedy Meadows, the 700-mile marker of the PCT, which signifies the end of the desert and over a quarter of the hike complete. We will drive to Victorville tonight so that we’re an hour closer to the tire shop in the morning.

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Day 35 – Walker Pass Campground

Posted on June 28, 2025 by TheJessicaness
best hotel room art

We start the morning slowly and then drive to Walker Pass Campground to wait for our hiker family. Trailer Park and Hillbilly are already there, the latter letting us know this is his first trail magic in 650 miles. Sometimes this is a timing issue or being in the right place when a trail angel is around. We load him up with Gatorade and sit under the shade that Trailer Park has created with his ground cloth.

Bangkok House art

Umi recognizes the car from up the hill and hustles down the trail, excited for fruit punch. He tries to deny a ride into Town but Hillbilly is ready to hike and Trailer Park says he could use more food, so he’ll go with us. Umi has such a contagious enthusiasm and I’m glad to cross paths with him again. We drop him off at the grocery store in Ridgecrest to figure out his night and after Trailer Park buys a chicken we return to the camp to wait for Rachel.

food art

We see her, watch her throw down her poles to sign the hiker log because she’s a lefty and the book is at the wrong angle, and then she sees us. She knows she has survived another portion of the desert and is grateful for the small feast to celebrate. We pack back into the car and return to town for dinner at Bangkok House where we try jalapeño wantons before Rachel goes to her room to stomp her clothes clean.

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Day 34 – A Night at China Lake

Posted on June 27, 2025 by TheJessicaness
where we started the day

It is nice to sleep in, something I just talked about not being able to do (in a tent), but a luxury when your eyes can’t register sunrise or your body the urgency to gain miles in the desert before the heat arrives. My nose is full of dirty treasure, my ears are waxy, my lips are chapped, my shoulders and chest are rashy, my nails are clean and four broken ones clipped, my legs aren’t dirty, and my feet are sore.

We are in no rush so I lie in bed until my hunger has me choose the Red Rooster Cafe for breakfast. There are two people who don’t know each other but are sharing a table behind Caleb. It sounds like an interview at first as they talk about the railroad and religion. It’s not until the happiness of Canadians with their country comes up do they start to get heated as the man still has family there and wants to know where the lady is getting her information.

I get the rest of my biscuits and gravy, this one with potatoes and veggies, to go. I will definitely be adding peppers and onions next time. We drive to Walker Pass Campground, where it’s 80°F at 10am, in the off chance we see someone in need of a Gatorade, but since we’re not expecting anyone until tomorrow, we just as quickly leave for Ridgecrest. Rachel said she was fine with her cheap bra so we thought we’d look around.

I try on 12 so I can leave with three, figuring one will give me issues since I didn’t put them on under my pack. Sweat-wicking and quick-drying are important factors for anything going near private bits, so I thought antibacterial would be good too, but it seems to be causing the issue. I’ll take some mango-jalapeno jerky with me into a coffee shop so that I can get some writing done before they close at 2pm.

where we ended the day

Our room is ready, if we can find the right M door, on base. Caleb feels bad that I didn’t get a bath yesterday, something every hiker wants (to see how gross they are) along with as many ice-cream sandwiches as they can stomach. A maintenance guy comes by first to fix the shower rod that was reported loose by the maid earlier. With that done, I can enjoy my warm bath (tub takes a lot of the heat) and my juice box.

The hard part about being in town, even with a kitchen in your room, is wanting to eat the meals you made months ago when you have fresh and greasy options available. We are spotted by a PCT’er, class of ’85, for Caleb’s shorts, our sandals, and our attention to his dog Doja. Her boyfriend, Snoop, is at home on guard duty while we enjoy garlic waffle fries! Another guy with a dog will ask us about the trail too. I suppose we stand out.

Back in the room, I will write while Caleb does laundry, since he has to go back to the main building, and I don’t want the distraction of sitting in the lobby or going back and forth. I have trouble sleeping and am up an hour later to turn off the back patio light but I can’t find a switch for the front, so Caleb uses the breaker to put us in darkness – the body’s signal for rest.

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Day 33 – Hiking In My Sleep

Posted on June 26, 2025 by TheJessicaness

I set up the one-person tent last night, put a rock on the stake to hold the vestibule door open, and passed out. I’ve woken to agreed-upon group alarms but have yet to set one for myself, which I suppose could be risky, but I’m far from sleeping in. Just the opposite, as I climb out of my tent with the help of my headlamp, which I have to assemble with the help of my phone light because I have yet to use it.

I’ve declined night hiking up to this point because I want to see the areas I’m walking through but as I’m recovered from yesterday and it’s too early to eat, I get to navigating the path with the glow of dead grass highlighting the edges as I step slowly because I don’t want to trip or step in a hole. Dried poop with berries in it would be the safest hazard at the moment.

I see a scattering of lights and what must be the city of Bakersfield in the distance to my left. In front of me, a graveyard of trees to mostly climb over, as I attempt to look for the path on the other side, and decide whether under or around the pile would be the better choice. This definitely slows me down and then I wonder how the others made it through this mess at the end of the day, at least it was for me.

I’ll stop for the first half of my breakfast once my headlamp is off and there’s a rock to sit on. The further from the ground I am, the easier it is to get back up, especially with a full pack (not an issue for now). A bush grabs my hose, which I’m surprised doesn’t happen more often, and I stop to stick it back in my hip belt. They come with a magnet but I don’t have the attachment, so mine gets to swing into the dirt when I put my bag down.

It’s a good thing there’s always a few drops of water left in the tip so I can give it a rinse before letting sand do the job of my toothbrush, which I don’t use as much as I should out here. The elevation is destroying what energy I thought I had. I stopped an hour later to finish my protein granola with mixed berries, this time on a log. I finally reached Robin Bird Spring, located 100 yards off trail, and am surprised to find Rachel and Trailer Park.

He’s preparing tea while she’s getting ready to break down her tent. I let them know I’m getting water and returning to the trail. They tell me the two French guys made it here last night but have already left. There’s a phone signal and they made use of it, so they went to bed even later and are struggling to get motivated this morning. I hike on, encouraged to continue by the shade of the forest.

I cross a dirt road, sign the hiker log, and skip the janky-looking bench for a more sturdy snack spot. I’ve been expecting part of my trail family to pass me the rest of the morning, so imagine my surprise when I see a skirt very happily heading my way. I nickname her One Pole and she says she hasn’t seen anyone else, except meeting Tea Time. Is it possible they were both trying to spot a bear at the same time?

She’s quickly on her way before I can pack up my stroopwafel and peanut butter wrappers. I’ll pass her taking a power nap in the shade at another road and we exchange names on our second meeting, hers is Mercury, and I’m still without a trail name. Some are super motivated and can hike alone but I push myself more when I am hiking with someone or feel that they’re waiting on me.

I’m exposed in the heat again, and I know today is cooler than the weather that’s coming, but I can’t help but feel like quitting or turning around sometimes. It’s hard to express that when all the photos are so beautiful, so some take pictures of themselves crying. Other hikers listen to music or podcasts to drown out their thoughts, but that’s just another reason I love being out here, because I don’t mind being in my head.

It’s when the passing thoughts stop that I know I’m exhausted and then my brain goes on a loop of just finding a spot to rest. I’m counting down the five miles until I see Caleb when I crest a hill and recognize the car. He was able to find a decent dirt road, after driving a few of them, that intersects with the trail. I am relieved and gladly sit in the shade with a juice box.

We wait for Rachel and then at least another half hour for Trailer Park, both of whom are just as surprised as I was to see the car so soon. They chug Gatorade, leave their packs with us, and hike back into the desert. I’m getting sores and dye stains from my bra, so I take it off while we wait an hour and a half in the shade before driving to the water cache to meet them.

I shouldn’t be surprised by how quickly they got there, but I am shocked to find out that the French guys have been here since noon, sitting in collapsible camp chairs in the full sun listening to Old Yeller talk about hugs and such since he brings beer and fresh fruit. Also astonishing is the number of five-gallon jugs, at least 60, kept stocked by Devil Fish. I’ll sit long enough to hear some stories about Soccer Mom.

A woman came through the desert with bleeding blisters because her shoes were too small and the stores she had shopped at didn’t have her size, but a pair of mine did the trick. Old Yeller says this is the best trail magic he’s seen in his two years of sitting on the hill, because his house doesn’t get signal, but this spot does. He also brags about our freeze-dried cheesecake, so Caleb gets out another bag so that Rachel and Trailer Park can finally try some.

I’ll sit in the shade in the car while we wait for the two to resupply their bags and take them from the car. I’m ready to leave Old Yeller’s stories in the dust and go to Lake Isabella. Dinner is at Miller’s Sierra Vista and though Caleb drowns my salad in dressing, thinking it’s his, I’ll still eat most of it. I booked a room while we sat and when the call came letting me know the TV doesn’t work, I assured her it’s no problem as we won’t be using it.

I send her my driver’s license number and she replies with the code to our room. There are a few signs inside – one for the window that’s out of order, another telling you not to use a washcloth on your shoes and luggage, and the wireless info that asks you not to do anything illegal or mean. It’s a cute place, but I will shower and sleep, as I usually do after a day of hiking, driving, or adventuring; even if my legs think they’re still out on the trail.

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