The Wonderland Journal

Miles hiked: 22.12

Mile marker: 41.5

It’s 5:00 AM when I hear,

“Hello? Hello?” Dad is singing, and it carries through my ear plugs. We stayed at a campground full of RV campers, so it was on the noisier end last night. 

Looking around inside my tent, I see my electronics bag, my first aid kit, my clothes, my sleeping bag, my sleeping mat, my pillow, my ear plugs, my head lamp, and everything else. 

Should I go brush my teeth first? Stuff away my sleeping bag? Put on my day clothes? I feel lost just looking at it all. 

It’s been 30 minutes since we woke and Dad is packed. I am not. 

Welp. 

“We’re not in a rush, Kate. Take your time.” Dad encourages me so I don’t become stressed. Upon request, Dad makes my morning drink: a hot chocolate mixed with an instant coffee in cold water. 

As soon as I get out of my tent, I hobble forward like I’m a tree who’s suddenly sprung two feet. My walkers? Yeah. They hurt. I have a safety-pin sized blister on the outside of each of my heels. Even though I fought the hot spots off with Compede yesterday — plus four other spots between my two feet — it didn’t prevent those bad boys from forming. 

Soon we’re on the road again, and I have two protein cookies ready to go. It turns out the snicker doodle is my favorite. Today will be a long and subtle incline up Mount Laguna. 

The day starts off easy, but soon it warms up. Our path turns into rocks. Big rocks, little rocks, all rocks that either hurt my feet from stepping on them or hurt my knees from stepping down. My legs are used to the easy motion of taking a step forward. A big step down? Apparently that’s asking a lot from my knees. 

There are unique boulders everywhere. Some of them look like a giant took an ax to it: completely cut in half! They’re rounded and in all sorts of shapes. Dad is fascinated by these. How did the boulders get here?

Kitchen Creek is one of our water points. It’s a small scramble down to a little pool of water. We get in and immediately my body seizes from the cold. There are other hikers here, too.  Many we met back at Cleef, our starting point. I lay out my sleeping bag to dry out a bit since the condensation from my tent gets the foot of the bag wet in the mornings. 

Rafiki goes to filter his water, but there’s a problem. This was our first point we use our filters but his Sawyer Sueeze water filter isn’t working! We share our filters with him, but he hiked the Appalation Trail and never had issues before. It looks like these things need to be tested before hand. 

Before we go, the sun makes its full debut and I’m sweating. I decide to take a full dunk like Dad and Rafiki did. I slowly slide into the water, and the cold crawls into my skin. Hell with it! I throw myself backward under the water. Once I reemerge, it’s not so bad!

I gear up again, then feel something against my lower back. It’s abrasive and not supposed to be there. 

Uh oh. 

It looks like pebbly sand made its way into my shorts. 

I take my shoes, socks, and backpack off again and get back in the water, trying to flush the debris out of my shorts. 

It worked. Kind of. 

The sun gets hotter, but thankfully not as hot as yesterday! It’s slowly drying out my clothes, and it feels so good to have the cool clothes again my skin in this hot weather. The debris in my shorts takes about four more sessions of futzing before I feel sand-free. 

We spot a perfect shady spot to rest underneath a tree. It’s a little early for lunch and I feel good, so we press on. Dad mentioned there should be some canopy trees up ahead. 

Only there isn’t. 

We walk and walk. Where are these canopy trees? We’re walking on a narrow path. The trees in the distance are turning greener and more are joining the show, but none a shade for us against this hot sun!

Finally Dad spots a bit of tall brush on a slope. Flies zip around him and he brushes them away. Not the best place, but I was ready to eat about a hundred miles ago. Caterpillars litter the ground, and the questions comes up of they’re venomous. I hope not! I try not to touch them after that. 

My tuna tortilla wrap tastes a little wimpy compared to my lunch yesterday: a tuna wrap with potato chips! It was amazing. Salty, crunchy, and everything perfect for a hike. I’m still so hungry, so I eat an extra snack bar. If I eat too much we can always go into town for more this evening. 

We press on as soon as we’re finished. The flies are bugging us and it’s not even a good rest spot. It’s hot, but Rafiki and I have good conversation about celebrity crushes — which he has basically none, by the way — and favorite foods. 

With an upset stomach, I start to slow down. Dad walks with me until I feel better, but I slowed down so much that the rest of the group went ahead. 

The day is starting to feel endless at this point. It seems the after-lunch drag is still present on trail as much as it is off trail. Except worse. We’re at about 15 miles when we spot Rafiki elevating his feet on the most beautiful shady tree. 

We join him, watching the sun dance through the branches and the caterpillars crawl onto our bags and legs. There’s too many to fend off, so I forget my worry of venomous fuzzy crawlers and pick them away with my fingers. 

No symptoms so far. 

My Compede blister tape has been unsticking from my feet, so Rafiki lets me use some of his Leuko tape for my fat blisters on my heels. What a saint. 

We step from dusty, rocky, and low brush into another page. It’s green with tall trees here, and it’s like I stepped into the east coast. It cools down significantly. We walk a little longer and I know our campground is near. 

Even at only one mile away, it feels like three times that distance! My feet hurt from the pressure of my weight on them all day. Plus, we have been walking on rocks. I’m exhausted, hungry, and my feet are so sore. 

We finally get to the campground! You have to pay $35 per lot, but a gentleman there lets us camp on his ground. There are only supposed to be 8 tents per lot. With Dad, Rafiki, and myself, we add up to nine. Nobody is counting!

Now that we’re in the trees, the temperature has dropped significantly. It’s about 6:00 PM, and clouds roll over us. I throw on my fleece and my rain coat quickly to cut the chill. 

Dinner is something I’ve been thinking about since lunch time. It’s even better than I imagined. 

Ram Bomb. 

A pack of instant ramen, buttery mashed potatoes, and a packet of tuna 

It was scrumptious. 

Denis from Ohio and Thomas from France had gotten into camp about an hour before us. They stand around the table as we cook, chatting with us and the other hikers. By us, I mean Dad. Exhausted from the day and freezing in this cold, I only care to eat then sleep. Denis asks Dad lots of questions about gear. I finish eating and am off. 

A cold snickers bar for dessert — it was a bit hard for my liking but still tasty. Then the tent goes up. 

The tent is something I still haven’t mastered, so Dad has to help me get all the stakes lined up properly. At last, it’s up. 

I rinse my dirty feet off in the sink of the bathroom — I forgot my towel at my tent but my feet hurt too much to go back — and change into my wool sleep clothes. By this time it’s dark outside, and I crawl into my tent. 

Sleep wants to overtake me before I’m finished journaling. The days have been long and hard so far. My feet are tender when I walk, and I most definitely have hiker’s hobble in the early mornings or after a long rest. 

I close my eyes to sleep, only to find that while my head is slightly higher than my feet, I’m also slanted to the right. If I lay on my left side I begin to slide a little off my mat, or so it feels. So I can only sleep on my back, stomach, or right side. 

This is going to be a tossy-turny night. 

https://thetrek.co/pacific-crest-trail/day-2-lake-morena-to-mount-laguna/