The Wonderland Journal

Miles hiked: 21.3

Mile marker: 112.5

Cowboy camping, while it provides beautiful stargazing, also provided with a very bright moon. I was awake before midnight and a few more times after. It may have had something to do with the slope that had my head slightly higher than my feet. 

The morning is a cool blue: the shade of dawn. Dad is wearing his fleece, so I wear mine too. Monkey see, monkey do. But this monkey needs to stop that because many of the processes out here — and out there in the regular world — are to be of individual preference and practicality. 

I’m a little chilly as I turn the valve on my sleeping bag and let it deflate. Since I cowboy camped, I attempt to modestly change my shirt only to successfully tie myself into a knot. It takes me a couple minutes to sort this out until I just decide to hide under my sleeping bag.

The plan was to cold-soak oatmeal, but the clock is ticking. I settle for a lemon poppy seed protein cookie and my morning drink: hot chocolate, chocolate breakfast essential, and instant coffee. 

That’s one of my favorite treats on trail so far. 

We begin the trail as the sun is making its morning debut. Our walk dips into warm pockets — which feels a bit like stepping into 80 degrees — and then into the cool morning once again. 

We reach the ridge again. There are trees in the distance and low brush is to either side of us with a steep drop just beyond the shrubs to our right. 

“Hey, Kate, did you see the cave?” Dad is paused a few feet behind me. My head was down and I didn’t even see the cave tucked away in the flat space of the giant hill we’re on! It’s only a crawl space and is about eight feet deep. 

We take photos and our packs on to leave. “It looks like there’s a note in there,” I say. I pull my pack off and use my trekking pole to retrieve it. Just a sweet sentiment. Thanks to CrossFit, I can duck walk into the cave to put the note back and out again. 

Thank you, Coach Rich!

We continue on our hike to catch up with Rafiki. Unfortunately, Dad accidentally surpassed his 100 mile marker — which is a big deal — last time he hike the trail. Pausing here, we throw our hands into the air for some photos. 

100 miles! My longest backpacking trip ever!

Two miles later, we’re at a watering spot where other hikers are sprawled out. Their feet are elevated, resting on logs or trees, to let the swelling in their feet go down. 

Shepherd is already here, the man who hikes in Chacos and has done the trail two and a half times already. He and Dad converse about losing toenails, as Dad has one in jeopardy and Shepherd has two missing toenails that never grew back. 

Ouch. 

American Kevin, who we met yesterday, is an artist who will take his work home and recreate it for his oil paintings. He showed us his work, and WOW! I don’t think anyone expected his work to be as colorful, detailed, and skilled as it is! 

The next four miles is going to be very exposed. I chow down a cliff bar, beef stick, and start on a chocolate chip cookie dough protein bar. There’s no time for lunch if we’re to beat this sun. 

We walk out to the road and — for the first time on my bike — trail angels! 

These are people who give PCT hikers free food, drinks, and anything else they might have to offer us! One Way Mike and Kathy offer us Gatorade, bananas, oranges, apples, cherry tomatoes, and lots of cracker options. Finishing my protein bar, I grab a banana and a Gatorade. 

It was so kind of them to offer food to us, and it’s was quite the spread! Thank you One Way Mike and Kathy for your generosity!!

The next four miles flies by. Using my umbrella, I try to block out the sun. It works, but I can’t see the scenery. I end up just putting it back. 

We enter the meadows. It’s incredible out here. We’re walking on a path in the middle of yellow grass that looks like wheat. The big hills are off in the distance, and the grass is shimmering in the wind. It looks alive, like it’s dancing to the wind and shifting colors from tan to mustard. 

Rafiki flies ahead of us. He enjoys this section so much, and it really was a little piece of magic in the desert.  

Soon we reach a cold and refreshing creek. I sit down on the rock next to Rafiki and drop my feet in the water. Boy, is it cold! The water flows over my feet, stinging them until they become accustomed after a few minutes. Here we have lunch and rinse out our dirty socks. Dust in socks can mean blisters!

My clothes are so salty, so I attempt to rinse out the grime from my shirt. Did that work? Eh. At least when I put it on, it gave me a cool layer to walk through the magical meadows again! 

We trek our way to Eagle Rock when we’re met by a man named Hamburger Helper. Another trail angel! He walks with us up to the rock, where a tarp is laid out in the shade. They give us wipes to clean our hands and offer us sodas. I get a cola, but they also had ginger ale and beer. We’re showered in pretzels, PBJ tortillas, snickers, Oreos, fake mustaches (Connor and I sported these), sunscreen — which was PERFECT because I just ran out of my spray sun block about an our ago. 

Hamburger Helper is assisted by his wife Emmy, and friends Victor — King of the Toilet Paper (whatever that means, but he told me to say it), and Cindy. We sign his log book, which we’ve signed about five of these since we started the trail. People often have these as journals to mark who we are and where we’re from. 

Hamburger Helper reads us a poem he wrote: for us! It brings him so much joy just to help us. He also shares with us a log so if we get to a future part on the trail, to think of him in memory of his sister. 

It’s so sweet of people to help us out, and specifically special that helping us brings them so much joy!

By the way — Eagle Rock? Shaped just like an eagle. Check it out. 

Hamburger Helper concludes our time with him by giving us a hug. Every thru hiker gets one before they depart. How special is that!

Our next stop is Warner Springs Community Center. This is an easy walk, exposed and bordered by brush. My feet hurt a bit, but the reprise from walking on smooth ground makes a world of a difference. 

“Ouch!” Rafiki says as we walk through the meadow. His pinky finger is bleeding, blood dripping down his hand. The sharp blade of yellow grass we walk through cut his finger. 

“Do you need a bandaid?” I ask. 

“It’s okay now. It’s congealing.” Rafiki holds his suns out, contemplating whether or not he should use his trekking poles with his bloody hand 

By this point I can’t stop laughing. I don’t know why, but the concept of someone cutting their finger on grass just makes me giggle. 

The community center lets us refill water and use the bathrooms. We again sign a log when we go into the little store that sells all sorts of snacks and items a hiker might need. 

Another layer of sunscreen to protect the skin, and we’re on to our last stop. Camp!

My feet are quite tired at this point. The bottoms of my feet are sore, the pointy part of my ankles have been hitting my shoes a bit hard, and my blister on my left heel has stretched out further beyond the Leuko tape while I have a new, baby blister at the tip of my other toe. 

The path is easy, but Dad is tired, I’m singing a tuneless song, and Rafiki is trying to hear what I’m saying only for me to respond, “I’m talking to myself.”

The camp is a welcome site. We travel a little bit further to get some water from the creek and decide to stay at the campground we just passed rather than pressing on. 

Camp is set up, and my tent is the best I’ve put up yet! The only help I had? Dad put a rock over a stake for me. Thanks, Dad. 

The mosquitoes are the unwelcome visitors here. Dad and I sit around Rafiki, joking that I bring the mosquitoes and Dad the mice, when American Kevin joins us. 

“What critter are you bringing to me?” Rafiki asks. 

“Oh, the coyote! I saw one in my way over here!” Kevin responds. 

“The cuddle puppy!” Rafiki says. 

There are more hikers around us, and soon, Hummingbird (she’s super funny) joins us for some social time. Her friends come along soon, and just as I’m getting the inside of my tent ready, Shepherd is joining the group. 

I prepare my oatmeal in a cold soak for tomorrow. It’s dark now and everyone is in their tents. On the way to mine from the nightly restroom visit, I hear something rustle in the grass. 

My headlamp lights up a big front, the size of my hand! He jumps again and I see a trickle of urine running out of him. 

I’m sorry, froggie! I didn’t mean to scare you! I think. 

Disrupting nature is not on my list of to dos out here. 

At last, I’m in bed, wondering if that distant cry was a coyote. Today was my best day yet. I have a feeling it has something to do with that smooth ground. Those rocky paths are not my choice of terrain. 

Now, I will sleep. It’s been a fun few days that have flown by, but I am exhausted!