The Wonderland Journal

Miles hiked: 14.5

Mile marker: 383.9

I love real beds. Real mattresses and real toilets. My double French braid is halfway pulled out, so I look like I’m rocking a soccer mom haircut from 2010. 

My earplugs are out and hiding somewhere beneath the blankets. I wonder what compels me to take them out in my sleep. 

Bumper and Dad are already awake and on their phones when I finally accept that I can’t go back to sleep.  

The plan was to leave at 9:00 AM, but at our rate, we may be a little slower. I walk down the shallow carpeted stairs and discover that Lucie is in the shower — again! That girl will take a shower anytime one is available. Both Dad and Bumper later take a second shower too, so maybe it’s just me not taking advantage of the showers. 

Our Airbnb has a Keurig machine, so I sit on the couch and enjoy a black coffee and the rest of my bland cinnamon roll. 

Yesterday Dad helped Lucie shake down her bag. Lucie had a lot of weight, so there is a pile of her items: hydrocortisone, glasses cleaner, medicines, eye drops, and other random things. She did get rid of her conditioner and deodorant, which she later took back — and tried to take back her sunshirt before I stopped her by pulling the box to send home away from her outstretched arms. 

We mosey around the Airbnb until we finally close the door behind us and walk down the steps of the porch. 

Poor Rafiki doesn’t have a sleeping pad anymore, so we head over to the Mountain Hardware store so he can purchase a thicker Nemo pad. Also, the tips of his trekking poles are gone. Basically all of his gear is failing him. 

The girls, Bumper, and I go back to the bakery. Savannah stopped by the grocery store and got an orange. It smells delicious, sweet, and juicy. Oh how I regret not getting more produce in town!

Oh yeah, let me tell you about Savannah. Her and I were both born in the same year, so we’re apart of the 1997 club. She’s a strong runner with a brunette braid and she’s really smart. She recently got her PHD in aerospace engineering, or bioastronautics, if you want to be fancy. This is great, because Dad loves this stuff and now gets to chat with someone who really knows about it (aka geek out). 

Savannah has met Christina Cook, who is the Artemis astronaut who went around the moon! Savannah was with some of her friends from grad school on Mount Albert in Colorado. She came across Cook and was chatting with her when she realized who she was! 

She’s also met lots of other scientists. It’s so cool to hike with her!

I order a breakfast burrito and an orange juice. I bet you can’t guess what I thought of the burrito. 

Bland. 

Wrightwood has not impressed me with their culinary skills! Nice people, though. 

Dad and Rafiki return with a new thick Nemo mat, one which Rafiki will be using until he can get a new air mattress. 

We all lounge around outside as we eat our breakfasts. Then we make our way back to the Mountain Hardware store. We all weigh our packs. Mine weighs in at about 38 lbs! 

Woof. 

That includes most of a full food carry and full water carry. 

Yikes. Pretty heavy. 

We make our way to the road to hitch a ride. Awkwardly (not for Dad), we put our thumbs up and out. No takers. We walk down the road a few meters. I turn my head to see Lucie running across the street. An older guy holds up two fingers. “I can take two!”

I run after Lucie. This guy is fueling up at the gas station in his Subaru Outback. We hop in the car and his black lab, Bella, wags her tail and tries to lick us. I sit in the front while Lucie gets attacked with excitement in the back. 

I soon see the rest of our group grabbing a ride as well. 

Once we’re at the trailhead, we bid our driver goodbye as our group is pulling up in the other car. 

We begin to walk, and I hike alone and behind everyone for a while. 

Soon I catch up with Bumper. We run into an older French couple. 

“Your dad? He said you have cats?” he says. There is a cat carrier on his backpack! A white and black cat hops out of the carrier to chase something up the slope. He is attached by a retractable leash.

“I’d love to live in France,” I say, recognizing their French accent. 

He goes into a long conversation on why he doesn’t like France. His parents are Iranian, and the school system he worked in were very racist. Even by seeing his last name, he and his wife didn’t get the same insurance coverage as others. Plus, he and his wife make much more money and retirement here, in the U.S.

Bumper and I continue on trail. We run into everyone who has received trail magic from someone we hiked with: Karen! Bumper and I do not get a Gatorade like the others. Early bird gets the worm, I guess. 

We continue on an awfully long uphill battle. Oh boy. It goes on forever and I start listing all the things I like about trail… with a hint of sarcasm. 

“I love uphill!” I pant. “I love blisters. I love when I pee and it splatters all over my shoes.”

“Okay, so I’m not the only one,” Lucie says.

“I love the heat and the chafing and I love freezing at night. I love getting up at five in the morning. I love that my feet hurt all the time!”

This is, of course, not true at all. My calves burn as I slowly walk up the hill. 

At last we make it! Dad and a bunch of hikers lunch at the top. I sit behind Dad and eat. It’s sunny and hot but as soon as the wind comes it’s cold. I pull my wet shirt off and replace it with my rain jacket. 

Dad and I retreat to a log where a great view is in front of us. We grab a photo and end up talking about life. About how you are the author of your life. About regardless of what hand of cards you’ve been dealt, you can make your life better, with what you can control. 

We talk for a long time. I expect everyone to be gone. When we return to the trail, our group is still there! I feel something tug at my heart that they waited for Dad and me. 

We take some photos at the top of Bader Powell. I begin to sing the nation anthem. Bumper joins me. Soon, we’re all singing the song in different pitches with big pauses where we can’t remember the lyrics. 

All this happens as Dad takes everyone’s individual photos. I’m singing through eating my beef stick, so bits of beef occasionally fly out of my mouth. 

It is a fun memory. Even though we have a good time singing the song, it really does mean something to me to stand there with the American flag behind me. The flag that my dad fought for. The flag that my family sacrificed their dad for. 

I didn’t used to understand why military families were thanked for their service. I never served. As I got older, I realized that I did, in fact, sacrifice something very big for the country. My sacrifice was my dad taking risks for the country and being gone. 

Our group files down the peak like ants. We pass over rocky ground and burnt trees often are fallen over. We descend further and further. A slope of tiny pebbles is our pathway as we make our way to the campsite. 

We arrive and set up camp. The bathrooms smell so bad. The wind catches the putrid odor and flings it into ours noses. 

It’s so disgusting. 

My new tent is glorious! So big! It’s basically a palace! For dinner, I eat a disgusting ram-bomb with chicken salad and cheese. I have to force myself to eat the rest of it. I wash it down with a snickers bar. 

Soon I’m in bed with all the space in the world. Good night!

https://thetrek.co/day-24-out-of-wrightwood-memorial-day-on-baden-powell/