Miles traveled: 19? We left the red line to start a side quest in blue, so I can’t be sure.
Mile marker: 182.1
Our day begins with a sunrise over a city and a very long walk along some switchbacks. The road didn’t used to be like this, Dad says. It used to be down.
That explains why the sign said 0.3 miles when it was actually twice that.
In our camp we meet a lady named Miran, who goes down to get water.
I didn’t expect the weather to start out so warm. But it was, so we climbed the hill until it turned into pine trees. They remind me of Tahoe, where my brother lives. Although I have only been there twice, it comforts me to smell the sweet, fresh aroma of these trees. I guess that’s how traveling affects me. Something as simple as the look of a corner store or the smell of cigarette smoke (things I experienced abroad) are etched in my memory and give me a sense of comfort and familiarity.
We walked through the pine forest. The terrain is smooth and easy. This is what I like. Dad and I go on a hike together and continue our conversation from last night, which also continues to ease my anxiety.
Soon we will be climbing the ridges. It’s a slow climb for me, but it’s beautiful. There are mountains in the distance. The ground is rocky even as we walk along the ridge. I love looking at trees.
For the first time I realize that I still have 2,500 miles to walk. That seems like a lot! The entire time I’ve been on the road, I haven’t thought about that. My struggles up to this point have been so monopolizing that I can’t even imagine what the next two thousand miles will be like.
It gets easier, I know. It seems so far away! Here things really happen day by day.
We take several breaks to admire the views. In each opening that occurs that shows the contrast between the desert and the trees, the wind blows strong and we manage to cool off from all that uphill.
We soon reached a stream, where I healed my blisters. Between lunch, soaking my feet (my feet turn into icicles when I run out of breath), tending to blisters, and fending off big red ants with black butts, I soon find everyone waiting for me.
There is not much rest.
We walk a little further and stop at a large opening.
Two options: ascend San Jacinto Peak or follow the PCT Red Line, which is longer but easier.
At this point I’m pretty exhausted from the whole climb. I’m hesitant when Dad says, «I like Katy’s idea of getting to the top and then finding a place to sleep!»
And so it begins. Dad follows me. Long, heavy steps climb rows and rows of rocky switchbacks. The sky becomes bluer as altitude increases. Dad informs me that I may be very tired because we are at 6000 feet.
Oh. I wondered where the fatigue came from.
Soon it’s too cold for Dad to move at my snail’s pace. Rafiki walks behind me and often offers an encouraging message: «You’re doing great.»
I can’t believe this is going to last four miles. From time to time it flattens out. My quads are burning. I don’t know what the hell prompted me to do this.
Many hikers descend as we climb.
«How close are we to the cabin?» I ask as I rest my burning legs for a moment.
“Oh, a mile,” says one woman.
“Less than that!” her friend corrects her.
We finally arrived at the cabin! I can see the stone building, but I wait for Rafiki to open it before crawling towards the giant rocks.
It looks like I now have LED legs.
Dad said we could sleep there if it’s unlocked, but it’s only for emergency use. I have been praying for the last three miles that God would help me get through this climb.
I leave my bag behind the cabin. The air is cold and goosebumps appear on my arms. I put on my fleece and puffer vest before Rafiki and I headed to the summit.
Dad passes us as he goes down to drop off his backpack as well.
As Frodo near the top of Mount Doom from the lord of the ringsI climb to the top. It’s a struggle and I’m slower than slow as my muscles protest. I have two trekking poles to make my way over these rocks.
One last tug and I’m up!
It’s desert and windmills on one side and mountains on the other. Beautiful!
That being said, was this grueling hike to the summit worth it?
Well, I got some good photos.
Am I proud of what I have achieved? The walk here was like being a magnet with the other half pulling me down the hill.
Yes. I’m proud.
I’m glad it’s over.
I don’t see the summit of San Jacinto Peak as a single moment, but rather as part of the challenge the entire trail offers.
We all had dinner in the cabin with Miran. I’m exhausted but we have to go down to another tent site. Dad asks me what I want to do. I can tell you don’t feel comfortable staying here. Mice in the cabins and possible rangers who could kick us out in the middle of the night? Maybe it’s not the best idea.
Come to think of it: what would the rangers be doing up there at that time? However, there is a tram that takes people to the top. That’s why we saw so many hikers!
We go down about a mile, all the way I talk to Miran and get to know her.
It’s kind of eerie here, with all these dead trees and desolate spaces. But there is a stream, whose water is good, and I choose to camp as a cowboy. Dad was going to go too, but decided to set up the store. I thought I should do it too, but I want to get away from always doing things the way he does them. My bag is 10 degrees anyway so it should be fine.
Mistaken.
I change in the women’s bathroom, a space behind a large rock, before bundling up in my puffy fleece. It’s definitely cold, but here I am, without a tent.
It’s only when I close my eyes to sleep, drooling and all, that I find that I’m only sleeping for a long time. I didn’t even finish my journal tonight, I’m so exhausted. Another day of cowboy camping shows that I love the stars but I also feel very safe in my tent.
I lay face down with my hands under my legs. Sometimes I look like a worm with bent knees.
Another night here is just another lesson learned: always use a tent when it’s cold.
