Wednesday, May 22, 2013

Pictures #1



This big fella wouldn't move! Finally, after accidentally hitting him with a rock, he coiled up and slithered away. 

Mile 200!

Mesa Wind Farm

Waking up to a frozen tent..so cold!

Last section with Dad and Mom

Happy Mother's Day!


Summit of Mt. Baden-Powell

The greatly feared Poodle Dog Bush

Road walking on a Poodle Dog Bush detour. 


Rock painting at The Anderson's. 

Monday, May 20, 2013

Taking Care

After spending a relaxing night in a Big Bear hotel where I had a jacuzzi bathtub in my room, I was feeling refreshed and ready to move on. I nearo-ed (nearly zero miles) out of Big Bear City and set up camp just in time to be sheltered from the rain/hail/thunder/lightening storm. I woke up the next morning feeling like I was on top of the world and I hiked 16 miles by 1:00 in the afternoon, where I met up with some friends I had been hiking with before. Since they had camped a bit farther than me, they wanted to keep walking and I wanted to stay with them, so I ended up going almost 24 miles, the farthest I've ever hiked in one day. By the time we got to camp, I was so toasted, but proud of myself for such an accomplishment. We got an early start the next morning so that we could get to some hot springs that were 4 miles down the trail and soak our feet for a while. When we arrived we were greeted by some hikers that had been there for three days and were leaving only because they were running out of food. Not wanting to get sucked in, we bounced right out of there after only an hour and a half. I'm not sure if the heat was getting to me or what was happening, but as we descended down the mountain I began to think of my life in the past few years and everything that has brought me to where I am now and I was overcome with emotion and just started to cry. By the time I got to the bottom of the hill, the tears had mostly subsided, but I was feeling a little drained. It was getting extremely hot, and so after a few miles we were searching for a nice shady spot to take a siesta when we suddenly stumbled upon a miracle! Some Trail Angels had set up a hot dog and rootbeer float feast for hikers wanting to wait out the midday heat. We stopped to rest, intending to take off sooner than later, and we ended up spending three hours there because it was unbearably hot and there was no way we could hike in the beating sun. Others hikers also trickled in while we were there, and around 4:00 pm we all decided it was time to hike out, even though it was still quite hot. We immediately started climbing and I was not feeling so great. All of a sudden I couldn't breathe very well, my heart rate skyrocketed, and I began to panic. I found some shade and one of the friends I was hiking with asked if I was okay. All I could do was sort of shake my head,"No," because I knew I would start to cry if I tried to speak, and I was trying really hard not to. A few other hikers stopped, all wondering if I was okay, and I finally had to respond, and the tears just flowed as I explained to them what was happening. Luckily, two of the guys who were there with me were Wilderness First Responders, so they helped me sit down and relax and put a wet bandana around my neck. As we sat there, they calmed me down and one of them pulled out his ukelele and started strumming to try and distract me. After about 20 minutes, I felt like I still wouldn't be able to go on anymore and I made the decision to walk back to the Trail Angels and see if I could get a ride into town. On the way back, I cried some more because I was so bummed to have to be leaving the trail. One of the Angels agreed to drive me into Wrightwood (my next resupply stop), where I would take a couple days off and wait for the rest of the group to hike in. Once there, I immediately called home and cried some more on the phone while talking with my parents, but after a while I realized I had made the best decision I could have in a bad situation. I needed to take care of myself first and foremost. Also, I had just experienced the most amazing Trail Magic ever. These people that I had barely known for a few hours had done this beautiful thing and had helped me and become my family. It had been a good bad experience and it made me realize that everyone on the trail has this extremely intimate connection because we are all going through the same shitty stuff, and so we all become really close really quickly. And I now know that the trail, and my fellow hikers, will always provide and always have my back.

I spent three days in Wrightwood (basically laying in bed the entire time) to rest and rejuvenate, and by the time my hiking group rolled into town, I was good to go. My body definitely still felt like it was recuperating, so I decided to take things easy on my way to Agua Dulce and only go 15-18 miles per day, so as not to push myself past the point of no return.

As I near my 1-month marker, I look forward to a day off in Agua Dulce at a Trail Angel's house and then some cooler night hiking on my way into the desert. And then on to the Sierras!

Thursday, May 9, 2013

Riding It Out

I've found that spending time in towns is a bit of a catch-22. While I think it's necessary to have adequate time to rest my body, especially in the beginning, it is quite difficult to get back to the trail after spending a relaxing evening in a comfortable bed and having a hot shower whenever I'd like. Once I'm back on the trail, it's all okay, but making that initial jump to get there is the hard part. I'm hoping it will get easier or it won't be as crucial to take as many days in town as my body gets more and more accustomed to the trail.

The time has come for the real journey to begin. My parents have gone back to their lives and I am left on the trail to figure things out on my own. 
Pretty much the whole first day of being on my own I felt like I was going to cry. Even though I wasn't actually alone since I was hiking with a few other people. I think it was mostly because it had been so fun and easy hiking with my parents and now the unknown seemed much more daunting. But after the first day and night, I realized that I was going to be okay. I know what I'm doing and I just have to trust that. Even now as I sit in my tent as it rains and hails and ominous clouds swirl overhead, I know I'll be okay. All I need to do is ride it out and let the bad weather pass. And that goes for almost everything. 

Friday, May 3, 2013

Moving Forward

Mom and I took a few days off to attend the annual kick-off party back at Lake Morena called ADZPCTKO, where there was good free food and lots of down time to rest. I finally got my trail name there too: Mermaid, given to me after telling a friend the story of how I was rinsing my clothes in the lake and accidently fell in. It feels a bit silly introducing myself as Mermaid on the trail, but I think I'll get used to it eventually.
As we moved into week two, I said goodbye to Mom and hello to Dad. I was a little nervous about hiking with Dad since I had already been on the trail for a week and my hiker legs were starting to kick in. I didn't want to be held back by any blister problems that he would have either, but I would do what I had to do to accomodate him.
Our first day out was hot! I didn't mind having to stop in the shade and wait every once in a while for Dad to catch up. I finally had to pull out my Chrome Dome reflective umbrella to shield myself from the sun while walking, which made a huge difference. We endured the heat and ended up going 18 miles! A big first day for Dad and for me after taking 2 1/2 days off. We camped at a Trail Angel's house where they had cold beverages and chili waiting for us when we arrived. It was nice that my Dad was already getting to experience a little bit of Trail Magic.
By day two, I was no longer having to wait for Dad to catch up and he was keeping pace with me just perfectly. We saw a myriad of desert wildlife: rattlesnakes, gopher snakes, garter snakes, and horned toad lizards crossed our path all day!
With time passing, the days sort of meld into one another and I can't remember what happened when. As we entered the San Jacinto Wilderness, water sources became farther and farther off the trail, and we would have to hike close to a mile or two detour with an elevation change of 500+ feet to refill our water supply. But we would try not to complain since water is extremely critical in the heat and we have no desire to get dehydrated. Since the San Jacintos are fairly large mountains, we had a ton of ups and downs. It literally felt as if we were constantly trudging up a 30-50% incline in the beating hot sun for two days straight. And just when we thought we couldn't climb anymore, the trail would take a brief, but steep, nosedive and then lead us straight back up to where we were before. It was hard and even frustrating at times when we were tired, our legs were screaming, and our feet were aching. However, we didn't really have any other choice than to just do it, so we did.

With each day I can feel my body hardening. Not only are my legs getting stronger, but also my core, back, and arms are as well from carrying my pack and using my trekking poles. Speaking of trekking poles, I have the weirdest diagonal tanline on my hands from the pole straps, and the handles of my poles are so caked with dirt and sweat that they are sticky, and I'm left with a gross, balck residue on my hands every time I put them down.

My appetite is still quite depressed. I've gotten to the point where I get hungry, but after a couple bites I have to force-feed myself, and sometimes it isn't until I can't barely walk that I realize I need to eat something. I'm sure the "hiker hunger" will kick in soon enough though and my stomach will be a bottomless pit.

There is definitely a certain point almost every day that I think to myself, "Screw this. I'm done," but then I take a rest and have something to eat and I change my mind. Also right when I wake up in the morning I think, "Do I have to get up and leave my warm sleeping bag?" The answer is always "Yes."

I move forward with my adventure and with each day I get more accustomed to the trail and enjoy more and more what it has to offer. A past thru-hiker told me, "Day to day, town to town, state to state, border to border. That's how it's done." And it is so true. If I think about the fact that I am hiking for 4 1/2 more months, all the way to Canada, I get extremely overwhelmed. But if I just think about getting to the next town, it doesn't seem so daunting. So with that, I'll meet you all in the next town.