The Wonderland Journal

Miles hiked: 19? We went off the red line to blue blaze a side quest so I can’t be sure. 

Mile marker: 182.1

Our day begins with a sunrise over a city and a really long trek up some switchbacks. The trail didn’t used to be this way, Dad says. It used to be straight down. 

That explains why the sign said .3 miles when it was actually twice that. 

At our campsite, we met a lady named Miran, who came down to get some water. We will later spend some time with her as we continue on the trail.

I didn’t expect the weather to start off so warm. But it did, so we hiked up the hill until it turns into pine trees. These remind me of Tahoe, where my brother lives. Even though I’ve only been there twice, it brings me comfort smelling the sweet, fresh scent of these trees. I suppose 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 carved into my memory and bring me a sense of comfort and familiarity. 

We walk through the wooded pine forest. The ground is smooth and easy. This is what I like. Dad and I get to hike together, and we continue our conversation from last night, something that also continues to ease my anxiety. 

Soon we’re climbing up on 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 out at the trees. 

I realize for the first time on trail that I still have 2,500 miles to walk. That seems like so much! This entire time I’ve been on trail so far, I haven’t been thinking about that. My struggles up until this point have been so monopolizing that I can’t even imagine what the next couple of thousand miles might be like. 

It gets easier, I know. It just seems so far away! Things really do pass day by day here. 

We pause several times to admire the views. Every opening that occurs that shows the contrast between dessert and trees, the wind blows loudly and we get to cool off from all that uphill. 

Soon we come to a creek, where I attend to my blisters. Between lunch, foot soaking (my feet turn to icicles as my breath is taken away), blister care, fending off big red ants with black butts, I soon find everyone waiting on me. 

Not much of a break. 

We hike a while longer then come to a stop at a big opening. 

Two options: summit the peak of San Jacinto or follow the redline PCT, which is longer but easier. 

By this point I’m pretty exhausted from all the uphill. I’m teetering on the fence about it when Dad says, “I like Katy’s idea that we summit then find a place to sleep!”

And so it begins. Dad trailing with me. Long, lumbering steps up rows and rows of rocky switchbacks. The sky turns bluer as the altitude increases. Dad informs me I may be so tired because we’re at 6,000 feet of elevation. 

Oh. I was wondering where the exhaustion came from. 

Soon it gets too cold for Dad to move at my snail pace. Rafiki walks behind me, frequently offering an encouraging, “You’re doing great.”

I can’t believe this is going to last four miles. Occasionally, it flattens out. My quads are burning. I don’t know what on earth compelled me to do this. 

Lots of day hikers come down as we go up.

“How close are we to the hut?” I ask as I rest my burning legs a moment. 

“Oh, a mile,” one woman says. 

“Less than that!” her friend corrects her. 

At last, we reach the hut! I can see the stone building but wait for Rafiki to unlock it before I drag myself up the giant rocks. 

It feels like I now have legs of led. 

Dad said we may be able to sleep in there if it is unlocked, but it’s only for emergency use. I’ve been praying for the last three miles that God would bring me through this climb. 

I drop my bag behind the hut. The air is cold and goosebumps appear on my arms. I thrown on my fleece and puffy vest before Rafiki and I head to the summit. 

Dad passes us on his way down to drop his pack too. 

Like Frodo near the top of Mount Doom from Lord of the Rings, I climb my way up to the summit. It’s a scramble and I’m slower than slow as my muscles protest. I’ve got two trekking poles to fight my way over these boulders. 

One last pull and I’m up!

It’s dessert and wind mills on one side and mountains on the other. Beautiful! 

That being said, was it worth this grueling hike to the summit?

Well, I did get some good photos. 

Am I proud of what I have accomplished? The trek up here was like being a magnet with the other half pulling me down hill. 

Yeah. I’m proud. 

I’m more glad it’s over. 

I don’t see summiting the peak of San Jacinto as a single moment, but as a part of the challenge of what the whole trail offers. 

We all eat dinner in the hut 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 he’s not comfortable with staying here. Mice in the huts and potential rangers who may kick us out in the middle of the night? Maybe not the best idea. 

Now that I think about it: what would rangers be doing up there anyway at that time? There is a tram to take people to the top, though. That’s why we saw so many hikers!

We go down about a mile, the whole way which I chat with Miran and get to know her. While I was reluctant to leave the hut, I soon had a new burst of energy that allowed me to fly down the rocky trail.

It’s sort of spooky here, with all these dead trees and desolate spaces. But there’s a creek , which water is good, and I choose to cowboy camp. Dad was going to as well, but decided to put up the tent. I thought I should too but want to get away from always doing things how he does. My bag is a 10 degree bag anyway, so I should be okay. 

Wrong. 

I change in the ladies room — a space behind a big boulder, before I bundle up tightly in my fleece and puffy. It’s definitely cold, but here I am, without a tent. 

Only when I close my eyes to sleep, drool and all, I find I’m only dozing for quite a while. I didn’t even finish my journal tonight, I’m so exhausted. Another day of cowboy camping proves I love the stars but also feel a lot of security in my tent. 

I lay flat on my stomach with my hands underneath my legs. Sometimes I look like a worm with my knees tucked in. 

Another night here is just another lesson learned: always use a tent when it’s cold. 

https://thetrek.co/pacific-crest-trail/day-11-the-peak-of-san-jacinto/