Until now I had assumed that I would continue along with Tim and Frenchie once “Love Donkey” left (yes people have continued to refer to him as that since he left).  But for whatever reason when they were moving out I hesitated and let them go ahead of me.  I knew I might never catch them but I didn’t think much of it.  So I wandered around town with John, got a big breakfast, resupplied my food and took a little nap before saying goodbye and hitching alone to the trailhead.  

As I was catching a ride from a bearded man in a big truck, some Californians watching (who themselves didn't offer a ride)  warned me scornfully “be careful.” Other Las Angeleans in with second homes in Idyllwild also warned me of the “local redneck trash” with completed assurance that I too hated them.  I thought about these encounters for while and have an essay coming soon on the subject…

ANYWAYS… I was dropped off at the trail and had to resume the same brutal slog up those switch backs to get back to the trail with all the water I could carry.  For some strange reason I wasn’t angry for the climb, or scared, or anxious. 

I was feeling calm, strong, and excited for the beginning of the real adventure.  “I sure loved having a buddy but lets see what I can really do now” I thought confidently.

I then proceeded from the trail another several miles and thousand feet of elevation up to the summit of San Jacinto.  So much for easing back onto the trail…

But it was absolutely worth it.  At 10,834 ft tall and being the 6th most prominent peak in the lower 48 (8,319 ft prominence) it was absolutely stunning.  

Once at that view I knew I couldn’t go further or dare to miss the sunset, so I set up my pack and pad at the top and for the first time of the trip truly sat and enjoyed a view.  And with that, I also did my first typing! (Sorry I’ve been behind)

Standing there above the endless sea of clouds with a stomach full of town food, fresh shoes, the wind in my hair and the sun on my face I could not be stopped, I could do anything.  “This trail will be wonderful.”

I even found out that there is an old abandoned cabin near the summit where I could escape the cold and wind of the summit and more importantly, begin early the next day for my long descent!

The next day I woke up in the cabin and began early.  

I was moving fast and I seldom stopped.  By 1:00 I had done 20 miles, by 5:00 I had done 28. -The day was all downhill and I was rolling smooth.  I stopped by a sweet lady's house to charge my phone and get a water before pushing another 2 before bed.  I fell asleep exhausted and proud.  

^(actual desert like the movies as I leave pretty mountains)

Pride comes before the fall and that Sunday was (like many of a different sort before it) my reckoning.  I struggled to get up with my alarm and then lost my breath quickly while walking.  In about the same amount of time I had gone 15 miles the day before I barely managed 9.  I was probably just tired…

Luckily at mile 9 was the first/last/only river of the desert section and I was able to bathe, drink, and relax.  

After washing off I tried (unsuccessfully) to find a place with some shade to wait out the peak sun of the day.  —->I actually ended up just burning my legs.  

After that was 7 miles to the next water source and so I got going and resumed my audiobook.  

—>Advice for hiking alone: DON'T READ The Road BY CORMAC MCCARTHY

The book is masterfully written (hypnotically so in my case) and is about a man and his son wandering a road as they starve to death and are hunted by cannibals…. Yeah, horrible, horrible, horrible for a solo and hungry hiker.

At one point I was exhausted and taking a nap under the tree and realized I wasn’t distinguishing between the nonsensical internal monologue of the starving protagonist acceptant of his death and my own.  What is wrong with me????

—-> Anyways, It was silence for the rest of the day and I’m only listening to epic or fantasy from now on!!!

{{for anyone doubting the power of literature-> go to the desert alone and briefly lose your mind}}

When I finally reached the next little creek bed I sat down angry with myself and cursing the desert, pissed I was stuck on this trail, lonely and just altogether down in the dumps. —-> So yeah, it took me less than 2 days alone to completely unravel.  

Looking back I can say technically that I was sunburnt, dehydrated, and probably lonely.  But in the moment (and in actuality) it was an immensely spiritual darkness that I felt.  I remember looking at the great cliffs surrounding me, the lizards crawling, and even the stream trickling but with indifference—I in my “misery” had so quickly become completely blind to the grandeur of creation which I am often so proud to notice.  The world of course is always “charged with the grandeur of God” but I was having no part of it.  

I sat there praying angrily for God to make me happy again (yes, like a 4 year old). It didn’t work and so I just stumbled along the rockbed for another several hours.  Finally, I saw a campsite that would work, and just as I put my pack down Victor the Ukrainian who passed me that morning popped out.

  F**K!! I said, maybe even loudly enough for him to hear, I hope not.  

Victor invited me to camp with him and then even convinced me when I objected.  I grumpily set up my tent and then sprinkled myself in the stream ( a luxury I was too angry to celebrate).  Then me and Victor cooked dinner and ate together (15 yards apart from our adjacent campsites) and we talked for about an hour in his broken English.  We talked about the war, and about his window installation service, and his baby son, and about trucks.  

I don’t know how to say this in my prideful intellectual way, so at the risk of sounding like a silly evangelical: It feels like Victor the fat Ukrainian was a total gift from God.  Just that little bit of friendship lifted my spirits more than almost any other experience in my life.

After that day I hiked 26.5 miles easily and was happy as a peach on the trail.  Somehow I got out of the weird dead zone of the trail I had been where there were no people and got to seeing tons of people.  

None of the Europeans are particularly fond of the cross and American flag on my pack(even the hot French girl), the American hippies are even less fond.  But I’m gonna win them all over. And if all else fails I can slow down and hang with Victor!

The next day (Tuesday, June 2) I quickly pushed the 11 miles to the town of Big Bear!  It was a great day.  

I hit 1/10th done with the trail 265 miles!!! I slept in an international hostel (interesting folks believe it or not), I sat in a pizza shop for 5 hours and updated my blog as well as ate several pizza, and my weight returned to a normal 203 from the hungry dehydrated 192 of my arrival. Finally I slept wonderfully in a bed and very much appreciated a shower.  

—I found a spare backpack in the hiker box that I’m gonna try out—this could be a legendary pull or a horrible/hilarious mistake.  

—Now I’m sitting in Starbucks on Wednesday, June 3rd publishing this before I go out to the trail and try to push the 20 miles to the next water source tn.  First night hike!!!!

Wish me luck!!

-Treebeard