To Hell and Back

The day we left from Tehachapi we had to walk 8 miles through a wind farm with 50+ mph winds and heavy fog. Everyone else who I was hiking with claimed that they preferred the weather we had to the normal 100 degree blazing sun, but I'm not so sure. It was pretty hairy. The next 4 miles after getting out of the wind farm was a big climb, and by that time I was already in a foul mood. We got nearly to the top of the hill and I decided to stop for the day while everyone else kept hiking. I realized that, after spending over a week with my friends, I needed some time alone. I was also getting extremely sick of the desert and the ups and downs of the weather; I felt like I wouldn't be able to stay on the trail if I had to deal with the desert for much longer.
I fell asleep before the sun went down and woke up feeling much better. I was happy to be able to hike by myself and to go my own pace and stop for a break whenever I wanted to. By 3:30 in the afternoon I had hiked 22 miles and my feet were calling it quits. That night was the first time that I had ever "cowboy-camped" by myself. Up to that point I had been very nervous to sleep out in the open without my tent, but it felt like that fear had suddenly disappeared, and it turns out it was totally fine! The next day I was trying to get as close to Onyx as I could so that I would be able to pick up my package from the post office before it closed for the weekend. That would mean hiking at least 25 miles, so I saddled up for an early morning start. I ended up making it about 26 miles and camped somewhere on the side of the road I was walking on because it was getting dark and no cars had driven by to give me a ride. The next morning I woke up and as I was just packing away my tent at 5:45 AM, a truck drove by and agreed to give me a ride to the post office (which I was very happy about since it was still 17 miles of road-walking to the highway). Once at the post office, I waited for 4 1/2 hours for it to open so that I could get my resupply box. I then took an hour-long bus ride into Lake Isabella where I had reserved a room for the night in a small motel. I awoke the next morning with feelings of dread flooding my thoughts; I had absolutely no desire to walk even one more day in the desert. After much humming and hawing (and some tears too), I decided that I would get a ride to Kennedy Meadows, the last resupply before the High Sierra. I have been feeling terrible about skipping little sections here and there, but I finally put some deep thought into it and realized that its okay. This is my hike and my trip and I can do whatever I want to. I don't have to be a trail nazi or a "purist" (someone who doesn't consider it a true thru-hike if you don't hike every single mile) if I don't feel like it. The desert was making me unhappy, and it just isn't worth it to be miserable because that would defeat the entire purpose of the trail.
Since it was about a two and a half hour drive, I knew it was going to be tough to hitch there, so I shelled out some big bucks for a cab to take me. It was so worth it though. Kennedy Meadows was like a combination of the Saufley's and the Anderson's all over again except that everyone was even happier because they were finally done with Southern California. The Kennedy Meadows General Store knew what they were doing: they would let hikers open a tab instead of having to pay each time they buy something, which is extremely dangerous for hikers when you're ravenous and there's all the chips and Ben and Jerry's you can eat. I stayed in a trailer at Tom's Place, the local Trail Angel house, where there was a movie on a large projector every night. Two days later, my hiking buddies rolled in and I decided to stay another couple of nights and hike out with them. The night before we were going to leave, I went to the store to close my tab. After 3 1/2 days of lounging around and pigging out I was nervous to see how much my bill had racked up to, but was pleasantly surprised when it only came out to $85. In the morning, we all took our time packing up and getting ready to leave. Tom had a scale that we could use to weigh our packs, and since everyone had to carry a bear can from this point on, we were all anxious to see how much more weight we were going to have to carry. Even though I had never weighed my pack before, I knew it was on the heavier side even without the bear can, so I wasn't too shocked when the scale read 47 pounds. However, as we began walking back to the trail, I could already feel the extra pressure in my feet and my back starting to ache. Hopefully it will get lighter quickly as I eat food and don't have to carry as much water as I did in the desert. But I would so much rather carry a little extra weight than have to hike one more day in the heat. I can't tell you how excited I am to finally be in the mountains! I feel exponentially happier than I did a week ago and can't wait to see what this next leg of the journey brings.