Day 7: Mike’s Place

Miles hiked: 19.5

Mile marker: 132

I’ve been awake for about twenty minutes before my alarm goes off at 5:00 AM. The morning chill is in my tent as I pack my bag and get ready for the day. Packing is becoming a little easier. I eat my cold-soaked oatmeal while I work. Tasty!

“Hey, Kate,” Dad says. I look over. “My food. Sg is over here whenever you’re ready to grab it.”

What a goober. Apparently, I had his tent stakes in my bag all of yesterday so he told me I could carry his food bag today too, if I wanted.

Even though Dad and Rafiki are waiting on me for at least ten minutes before I’m ready, I still was ready to go in an hour. Getting faster by the day! Dad rolls his tent on his body when it’s wet, so I attempted that too. At least it fit in the tent bag.

The hike begins uphill, and it’s not but a few minutes in that I’m ready to take my fleece off. The guys continue on as I shed the layer and walk alone for a bit. We’ve been walking into warm pockets. As Rafiki says, “Be bold, start cold.” I’ll have to start hiking cold to save myself the extra step.

The meadow we walked through yesterday is off in the distance. It is a sea of fog, the mist settled down on the ground like a silver ocean.

While I walk alone, I realize I’m getting used to being on my own. It’s quiet and I can just rest with my thoughts. The mornings are special in that way. There isn’t any pressure to talk with people or entertain anyone. It’s a new day, a fresh start, and a new cup of energy.

By the creek, I run into Kevin, the painter. He tells me he uses gouache paint — pronounced GOW-AH-CHEY. He used it to teach students because of its versatility.

Dad is just around the corner when I continue on. We hike and chat for a while until we run into Rafiki, walking through the trees and low brush. The trees here remind me of Jurassic Park, with their bright green canopies.

At the creek we fill up on water. When I take my sock off to glue a hot spot on the tip of my toe — the blister disappeared — I realize my Leuko tape, too, has fallen off.

While I don’t want to drain my blister now because it’s still cool outside and we are able to get good miles in, I don’t have a better option.

Call on the foot doctor.

With Dad’s guidance, I clean my blister and a safety pin. The blister has already healed at the bottom but is pushing up at the top. It’s basically crawling on my foot. I insert the needle into my blister. A warm fluid shoots down the side of my foot. We glue a bandaid to my food then glue Leuko tape to that.

My shoe fits into my food so easily now!

The day from here gets intense. It’s all uphill and it is hot! Dad and I talk about one of my insecurities: that I feel that I’m not very smart.

“How old were you when you wrote your first song on the piano?” he asks.

“Twelve,” I say.

Dad says that I’m so intentional about life and have learned a lot of really valuable skills because of how I approach life. I guess people see me differently than I see myself.

It gets even hotter, so Dad hikes on while Rafiki and I stay together. It’s nice having Rafiki around. Without him today, I would have slowed to a crawl. We chat about nothing-things: like what we cook best and what our favorite things are in life.

This path is endless. It feels like we’re wrapping around and around this hill. Dad is waiting for us so we all walk together. I nearly walk off a cliff trying to unzip my pocket then drop my snack in the dirt.

I try to wipe off all the dirt from my Bobo’s maple pecan oat bar. I’m so clumsy out here trying to walk and do things.

Later, the three of us rest under a giant rock. There are so many boulders in this area. We all take turns listing words that begin with ‘MAG’ like magnificent, magma, magazine, maggot, etc.

Soon we’re on the road again. Dad is shade hopping and I’m dragging behind. We keep going up and down and around.

At last we see a sign for Mike’s Place. It’s a squiggly line pointing to a washed out river bed.

“It says that way,” I say.

“I think it means this way,” Rafiki says, flipping the sign so the writing is correct. We continue on, swing a right — thanks to Rafiki, because I’m directionally challenged — and follow a road to a big water tank with hikers hiding in the shade.

And a big treat here : Denis! He was in limbo for a while because we all got separated, but he waited for us! I’m so glad to have him back. He’s a witty, confident, and silly 23 year old. A good addition to our pack.

There were some sodas and gatorades down by the cabin, but I went too late and it was empty.

Dad has a hurt toe and we watch him heat a needle to sterilize it. He pokes it into his toenail — which smells like burning hair — and yellow fluid shoots into the air. He has to press all the fluid out which really hurts.