Miles hiked: 19.4
Mile marker: 517.6
The moon is a nightlight out here.
My alarm goes off.
I need to change my ringtone, I think. I hate this sound! I’ve hated it for the past year and keep forgetting to change it!
It pulls me out of my light sleep I’ve been in for an unknown amount of time.
My first thought upon waking: I don’t want to hike today.
I’ve yet to think that on this trip, but I just don’t have it in me today.
But, what else am I going to do? Not hike?
That’s a joke Rafiki and I share. If I’m struggling on an ascent in the heat of the day, what will I do? Just sit down on the trail and do what? Roll down the hill?
There’s a slight breeze this morning. I throw my fleece on and begin to patch my blister I stuck a safety pin through yesterday.
Savannah is brushing her teeth by the log next to Rafiki’s sleeping bag.
“You see that?” I say to Rafiki. It makes laugh because early on at Paradise Valley Cafe, I was getting ready for bed in the dark. Denis and Rafiki had camped pretty far away from the others. It was getting dark, though, so I found a spot to brush my teeth. I got tired of walking and ended up too close to Rafiki and Denis’s spot.
“Why are you brushing your teeth five feet from us?” they asked, both laughing and appalled.
Since then, I always ask Rafiki why he sleeps in the bathroom. About five times a week, I make sure to brush my teeth next to Rafiki’s domicile.
I’m happy to see Savannah brushing her teeth next to Rafiki’s sleeping bag. The only thing is that she doesn’t know about this joke!
We come to the picnic table to finish up packing. I moved all my stuff because Bumper let me borrow his Tyvec ground sheet last night and gave it back to him so he could finish packing.
“You’re making me bummed by just looking at you,” Rafiki says to me.
Maybe it’s my hunched posture that gives it away. I’m not feeling great at all.
The six of us start moving. We walk downhill a quarter of a mile to the trail. We’re surrounded by some trees and walk on a heavy slope. It’s shaded and the light pokes through the trees. I look over my shoulder and see the orange egg yolk sun through the branches.
Gosh, I’m tired. We’re about 201 miles away from finishing the desert, and I’m ready! This heat has gotten to me. I didn’t expect the heat to affect me as much as it has. The cold front we just experienced was very uncomfortable, what with the frozen fingers and penetrating wind and all, but I also hike better in the cold.
Did I already say I’m ready to be done with the desert?
The sweet scent of grape fills my nose. It smells like grape soda lupine, but I don’t see any around. Maybe these pale purple powers are grape soda lupines, too. Grape soda lupines are a bright but deep purple that has a lot of personality.
It’s 6:15 AM and we bump into Dad. He’s holding a sign that says 500 miles!
Wow! We did it! 500 miles of hiking through the desert! I’ve never hiked this many miles in my life! I’m exhausted today, but it’s a small encouragement to see how far I’ve come.
A very small encouragement.
Bumper plays I’m Gonna Be (500 Miles), and we all sing along as we get our photos taken.
We keep walking. The sun shines brighter. Why is it so hot already? The crazy thing is that it’s not even too hot. We stop at the water cache. It’s a low tin shelter with a big circular opening and a lid over it. I stick my head low into the cistern and hold my water bottle under there until it’s full.
When I’ve finished, I crawl out into the bright daylight.
I return to the crowd and we all sit around for a few minutes in the yellow grass. Soon I throw my pack over my shoulder. It’s going to be too hot today to lounge around for long.
“You look tired,” Dad says.
“Yeah,” I say. “I don’t know why. I’m just not feeling it today.”
He holds out his arms for a hug. It’s a lot like two scuba divers trying to embrace, as our water bottles on our right shoulder straps prevents any real hug from incurring. I still appreciate it.
We begin to walk back up the road to the trail. “You might look at what you’re eating to see if that is not going to be enough energy for you. The beans and rice you’ve been eating are less carbs than the ram-bombs.
The road is hard and sandy. “I’m eating a honey bun for breakfast now. And I changed my dinners to rice and beans.”
Maybe it is the fact that I changed my meals.
We keep walking until we get to a long road. I’m still feeling quite down in the dumps.
“What are you craving right now?” I ask Rafiki.
“Uh, I’m not really hungry,” he says.
“I’m not either. Just play the game.” I say as we walk down the wide, hard-pact sandy road. We can see the flat plains that we’ll soon be walking on in the distance.
“Maybe a salad,” Rafiki says. “With balsamic dressing or thousand island.”
“Ooh, with tomatoes, salt, pepper, cheese, and black olives! And green olives and the green olive juice. With a strawberry lemonade. And some watermelon and pineapple.”
“I want a regular lemonade,” Rafiki says.
“I want an Arnold Palmer,” Savannah says. “Anything cold!”
It’s pretty hot out here.
My mood seems to have improved after talking long and hard about what salad I would want to eat.
“I hope I’ll return home wanting to eat healthy things,” I say. Healthy foods really aren’t my favorite category.
In the distance, a vast plain of sand stretches out before us. An army of windmills are just visible through the dusty grounds.
We soon enter trees again. They grab at us, but at least these aren’t as scratchy and stiff as some of the other branches we’ve had to go through. Sometimes it’s like a tunnel that you plow through, hoping the thorny leaves or sticks don’t tear your clothes.
We reach a creek! The water bites my feet as I drop them in the water. I let them soak for a few minutes. My left foot has been bothering me today. It’s actually the same blister issue as yesterday, just on the other foot. It’s not bad like the other foot, thankfully!
I rinse my socks and soak my shirt. My shirt sticks to my skin as I put it back on.
“I’m waiting for your cringe,” Rafiki says. The trees shade the trail, but we’ll be moving to a better spot in a minute.
“No. I’m good. No pain,” I say. I wince anyway as the wet shirt plasters to my body like a sheet of ice.
We keep walking about a minute and reach the spot Dad lunched at last time.
It crosses a dirt road and a tree shelters a flat area. I cook up my rice and beans and lay down for a nap.
The flies attack me as I try to sleep. Darn biting flies. Soon, Rafiki is gone. He’s also under the influence of Benadryl, since he’s allergic to fly bites.
The rest of us follow suit and get ready to walk.
“No! Not uphill!” Bumper yells behind me. He cries out like Frankenstein’s monster. I commiserate with him. The sun beats down on us as we walk up the hills, down the hills, wind through the scrubby bushes. A nice breeze comes along and cools me down for a moment.
Dad holds out his arms like an airplane when the breeze comes. I’ve never been more grateful for the wind!
We come to a road and walk down a long dirt road. “Hiker Town” is written on a sign. We enter into a giant dirt backyard. It’s set up like a spaghetti western, with the two rows of buildings that read things like “Feed and Store, City Hall, and Hotel.”
Hikers are laid out everywhere in the shade! It’s just piles of backpacks and people hiding from the sun.
We join a group of people under the shade of a tree. Not ten minutes later as I’m attempting another blister pop when a guy named Ed Brown shows up to take us to town.
It turns out he’s a movie director who directed the film, “Unacceptable Levels.” He is from Pennsylvania, but is helping his friend Richard out to run Hiker Town.
We get to the market. It’s about a hundred muggy degrees in here. We order burgers and lounge out at a table outside.
Sadly, they were out of their homemade pickles. But we still scarf our burgers down. I enjoy a strawberry Fanta. Orange is my favorite, but they didn’t have any cans of it.
Ed shows up, and I hop up. I totally forgot he was going to pick us up! I was so comfortable lounging that I didn’t even think about him!
I purchase some candy, ramen, and snacks, and hop in the truck. Some people are riding in the back of the pick up truck.
A hiker named Barcelona says he’s going to leave at 3:00 AM, and we decide to go this route.
I finish the evening with a pot of ramen as I watch the other hikers walking away with painted faces.
As I wash the dirt off my legs, a cat comes up to me. It’s a little pale orange cat, but it lets me pet it. I do miss my cats! I wish I could pick this kitty up and hold it. But it’s getting late and I need to get to sleep.
Next thing I know and I’m in bed, dreading a 2:00 AM wake up.
Dad comes over, “The owner said we could stay as long as we like. He let me shower for free for helping him with the trash. He set out another towel,” he says to Rafiki.
I would love a shower! I smell funky!
“It was really nice. Hot water!” he says.
But I’m already in bed and have to be up in a few short hours.
The sun is settled and the sky is a dusky blue.
Nighttime hiking, here I come.
The Wonderland Journal 
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