Caleb drives Gert and me to the trailhead outside of the park, saving us some road-walking, but it skips a mile of trail, which brings my total missed to about 198 miles. I have Gert turn on my Garmin after 15 minutes when I remember. The hills are nice with warm and chilly breezes. The clouds are bursting with color.
The bushes are covered in webs waiting to hit my face if I don’t get them with my trekking poles first, and Gert is kind enough to remind me as it clears his path too. Yesterday’s incline was more gradual and the shadows longer. Gert has a cell signal and uses it to call work. He is leaving the trail after his wife comes because he’s answered the questions he brought with him.
He’s speaking in Dutch so I don’t understand him, but a laugh is international and his is full of youth. Trailer Park will join us at 7am and tells us that Rachel chose to take a zero. She is quickly learning from Gert and Ravi’s blisters what not to do, so we are happy with her choice. She and Caleb will drop Jessi in San Bernardino so she can take the bus to the airport.
Her visit was short and sweet and left a mark on our tramily. If she can handle the desert with such grace, I hope she’s able to return and show the others how to hike a forest. Though maybe one of these times she’ll wear her pack. We admire the views and chat occasionally. Otherwise, we are in our heads, twirling our poles (I’m not there yet), or just trying to take it all in.
Trailer Park had his phone ready if we needed to order ahead, but we reached the sign with 0.4 miles to go before 10am. Caleb and Rachel are at Cajon Junction waiting to give us a ride to McDonald’s. If it were just Caleb and me, we’d have walked on, but this golden arched establishment is a point on the trail that many hikers look forward to.
I used to love their fries until they got rid of the trans fats, and Caleb makes a better version of their McGriddle, so it’s been years since we’ve eaten here. I get my excitement up when I see a s’mores McFlurry poster on the window and am disappointed in their advertising when I get a vanilla soft serve with sprinkles instead.
You order from a screen and take a number. I got an ice cream and a chicken McGriddle because I knew I needed the calories. An employee asks if we’re hikers and hands over four apple pies. We are delighted and all having a good time, except for Troll who is wondering which person took his smokes. He has a PCT tag on his large pack and tells us he’ll camp nearby again and head out later.
We’re still sitting there while others order more food, make good use of the restroom, and charge what they can in the two outlets provided when we are given bags of biscuits and McGriddle bread labeled for donation. The same employee quickly brings over paper bags to hide the evidence of her kindness. We return to our current base camp, now site 39 in the most shade, and leave Rachel to nap while Trailer Park is on the phone.
We drive into Wrightwood to pick up Gert’s resupply and buy some meat to go with all the free bread. It’s a good thing Mountain Hardware is next to the post office. The sign out back says we are 373 miles from Mexico and the three hiker boxes have some used fuel cans that Trailer Park can transfer into his later. As part of Gert’s return home plan, he needs to sign something and send it back.
We go to the library where he’s able to do that and then to the store for a fruit tray and veggie tray to go with the chicken patties and spicy meatless sausage. We start dinner at 430 and as we’re heating up apple pies an hour and a half later, Ravi is just getting started.
We clean up camp after he’s had a chance to eat because I’m more concerned with squirrels and birds than any bears. We hear him crunching through half a bag of cereal like a raccoon after the rest of us have crawled into our tents for the night. This isn’t the first time our schedules have been off.
TheJessicaness 