Day 19: Mile 300 — Holcomb Creek to Deep Creek Hot Springs

Miles hiked: 22

Mile marker: 307.9

As many early mornings begin, mine begins with a dream, which I mistook for reality.

In the dream, Dad was trying to get my attention in my tent. I think he was going to continue hiking or something.

Now — back to reality — it’s the middle of the night. I take out my earplugs — to hear Dad, even though that was a dream. My mat seems deflated. There’s no way it’s deflated, though! Rafiki and I just patched it yesterday.

I doze off and wake a little later, check the time, and it’s only 3:30 AM! Oh, and my ear plugs aren’t in. I took them out based on talking to Dad in the dream.

5:00 AM hits and it’s freezing. The temperature got down to 26 degrees last night. Anything and everything I can do from my tent, I do. Excluding making some coffee.

I try to roll up my sleeping mat, but I’m kneeing on the rocks underneath the tent and the rocks are pressing into my knees. I try to flip my sleeping mat around to fold it and end up dragging my head across the ceiling of my little tent. In Wrightwood, I’ll be getting a bigger one and I can’t wait!

When I step out of my tent, it’s even colder and my fingers sting as I try to pack my bag. Dad urges me to move quickly as he’s standing, freezing, waiting for me. I almost had my bag ready before his, but the morning coffee drink has to be made.

We get going, icy hands stuffed into pockets. Dad flies ahead, something my feet aren’t allowing me to do at the moment.

“How’d you sleep?” I ask Rafiki.

“Awful,” he says. “I was freezing my ass off. There was a frozen cockroach in my hat. I didn’t sleep from 11-5!”

Well, I slept better than Rafiki, at least.

We catch Dad in rays of sunshine. He’s watching a raven in a tree. “How’d you sleep?” he asks Rafiki.

“Oh. Great,” Rafiki says in playful sarcasm. “I had a nightcap in my cozy chair by my fireplace.”

“With a hot chocolate,” I add.

“With a hot chocolate,” Rafiki says. “I had the neighbors over for a game of charades. Then they went home and I had my nightcap. Then I went to bed and froze my ass off.”

I laugh aloud at the nightcap. I dubbed this story “The Rafiki Saga.”

A chipmunk is perched on top of a burnt tree. We stare at it a moment. In Idyllwild, there were squirrels with big, bushy grey tails everywhere. Now we see so many chipmunks!

We continue on the dirt and rocky path. Rafiki is somewhere behind us. Dad and I chat about how time passes here on trail. It is passing quicker on trail now than last time.

I share my theories about novel experiences and neural pathways. We discuss the dopamine effect of being on trail.

An older hiker walks our way. Dad and I step aside with a “Good morning!”

The man doesn’t respond. Another man hikes towards us. “Good morning! How’d you sleep?” Dad asks.

The man grunts. “It was 38 degrees last night,” he grumbles.

It’s a good thing he didn’t sleep where we slept.

Crawling over rocks when we couldn’t find the path

Our dirt path crosses over paths of rock. We emerge on a road and Dad says, “Last time I was here, there were rock crawlers going up this. We were just standing watching it.”

The boulders the rock crawler are driving over— a vehicle designed for driving over BIG rocks — are at least the size of my tent. Huge! I would love to see that!

We hike a while in weather that is warm in the sun but cool in the shade, like yesterday. Rafiki and I walk together for a while. My mind is set on burgers. There’s supposed to be a really good burger place coming up! We run into Denis and he gives us some of the details for it.

We come to the river where Dad and Denis are waiting. Sad news. The burger place? We have to walk a mile and a half down the road and then we call the place, and they’ll pick us up.

No one is feeling up for an extra three miles.

Instead, Dad tells us about a little bit of rock crawling and a fun water jump. We go this way.

The rock climbing is atrocious. I fear for my life as I crawl along rocks, trying not to fall into the river, or worse, snap my leg in half trying to get from one rock to another.

The branches are bendy. They grab at my oversized pack as I push forward. Sometimes they pull me backward.

At last, we arrive! It’s a scramble down to the water, but Connor is already in there like a pro. I slide in and screech.

This is ice! I’m basically in an iceberg! I walk in a hair deeper, my breath taken away, and my feet sink into the sand.

Okay. I’m done.

Previously, there was a rope that you could use to crawl up the ledge. Now, there is no rope. None of us want to scramble up a rock wall with rocks right underneath.

Denis makes his way down, so I go back in and dunk my head under. When I emerge, it’s much warmer.

I get out and start on a lunch of tuna and Cheezits. Denis is next, screaming like an alarm clock as he goes in.

Next: Rafiki.

He screams as well, and I can’t stop laughing as he screams like a little girl (as he says, not me).

Soon we’re all having lunch. Rafiki and I are crammed next to each other, trying to stay warm.

Dad walks ahead over the rocks to wash his socks. We soon follow, and Rafiki helps me across the rocks since I’m so afraid of taking a misstep. Because, you know, broken legs. Twisted ankles. Falling into the freezing river. On my head.

I made it over the rocks alive! We hike along the ridge of a hill for a long, long time. It’s hot now, in the sun. My foot hurts to step on the heel of and the pad of my foot is hurting.

It goes on like this for miles and miles.

After about eight miles of this, we reach a river where Dad is. Two choices: stay here or go to the hot springs. Here has good campsites. Hot springs is only two miles off. But may have Norovirus.

I choose to stay.

Rafiki bids me goodbye. I immediately feel like I’m missing out. I know they’ll have so much fun at the hot springs. And I’ll be here in pure daylight. Sitting on a rock.

I express this to Dad and he says we should go if I want.

I pack my tent up (it was laid out) and head that way. Dad tells me about the trail coming up in the Sierras.

We reach the hot springs! Ants are crawling on our things but I go ahead toward the hot springs with some other hikers.

I wince as the hot water singes my skin. My legs burn as I slide slowly into the hot spring. It’s a little pool of water in the corner of the large river. On the mucky steps is slimy algae and about ten little bees. I make sure to avoid them.

Bumper, another hiker who I’ve seen around, gives me a potential trail name — Tailwind — because I said I hike in my dad’s tailwind which is why people think I’m so fast.

I have dinner with some of the hikers — Truls from Norway, Lucie from the Czech Republic, and Bumper from Vermont — then head off to my tent for bed. We got some good miles in today!