Miles hiked: 22.1
Mile marker: 688.4
It’s 2:00 AM. The stars are shimmering in the sky and as plentiful as sand on the beach. The Milky Way is a hazy white stroke in the universe.
I’ve never seen it this clearly before.
A bonus? My sleeping bag is soaked. A lot of moisture floating around, I guess. Now I don’t feel so bad about accidentally getting water on Rafiki’s sleeping quilt last night while I was filtering water (my water filter gasket was on incorrectly and no, I should not have filtered water by his down bag).
4:15 AM hits and I quietly accept the fact that I need to start packing. Yesterday Dad mentioned that we should pack my bag in town. It takes me too long.
It doesn’t help that my feet are swollen, making it really difficult to fit my sausage toes into their designated positions of the toe socks.
In addition, because I’m already killing it this morning, I put way too much water in my bottle for the breakfast drink. It’s not a big deal if it’s watery. It is a big deal if I can’t even fit the powder into my drink due to it being overfilled. So basically my cherished protein powder is flying everywhere. Great.
Oh another thing? You’re gonna love this. After shoving my fat feet into my shoes, I went to the bathroom. I don’t know what I was thinking not tying my shoes, but I ended up peeing all over my laces in the darkness of the early morning.
I love thru-hiking.
I’m about five minutes late by the time I’m ready to go.
The sky is hazy as we begin our uphill walk. I’m pushing to stay with Dad and Savannah. We hike along the hard-pact sand bordered by sage colored scrub brushes.
A hazy orange glow shines above the hills. It illuminates the top of the ridge with a red rim. From the peak of the hill is a yellow line that fades into a pale blue.
An hour and a half later and we are at our next water source. I’m still working on my breakfast drink, but I sit around with the others while they filter water. There’s another water source coming up soon. It sounds like everyone is going to grab a liter here and get more at the next source.
It’s chilly as everyone filters water. I sit next to Dad on a log to warm up as I wait for everyone to finish filtering water.
We cross a grassy river and continue our walk. I spend some time with Savannah as I walk on. We find a very rusted wrench — where on earth did this come from?
The cacti are sprouting Barbie pink flowers from their tops like a crown that sits atop a head.
“Oh, uh, did we already pass the next water source?” I ask Savannah.
“Yeah, a while ago,” she says.
Uh-oh. I totally forgot to grab more water. I was so engrossed with my conversations with everyone this morning, I totally forgot about it!
It’s getting hotter now and I only have one liter of water. What was I thinking? I only heard what the others said about getting water but didn’t look it up for myself! If I had looked it up, I would have been more aware and either cameled up on water then or gotten some when I saw Broccoli — another hiker — grabbing water from that second water source!
I break off from Savannah. “I’m going to catch Bumper and see if he has any water to spare,” I say.
Savannah doesn’t have any extra water. We have a ten miles until the next water!
I push it until I reach Bumper.
“Hey! I forgot to grab water. Do you have any to spare?”
He laughs. I walk behind him a few moments. “I’m going to try to catch Rafiki to see if he has any extra,” I say.
“Oh! Yeah you can have water. I thought you were joking,” Bumper says. We step aside so I can get some of his water. I don’t want him carrying my weight for me
The sun shines brightly as I get water. I continue on the hike only to pause a moment, put in some music, and hit the road.
I begin to push immediately. Walking quickly. Faster than I like to go. I jog here and there a little. My breathing gets heavy and laborious. My face is flushed. I run on the uphills.
Bumper is behind me.
I see a few hikers I could ask for water. I’m thinking a couple of things at the moment. One: the sooner I get to water, then I don’t need as much to drink for a long hike. Two: it’s not even 10:00 yet. I can get ahead of this heat. Three: this is a game. Can I catch Rafiki?
I see Rafiki in his red shirt and cowboy hat, swinging his arms like a little Huck Finn wandering the woods. He’s only three to five minutes ahead of me. It’s amazing how hard it is to catch up to someone: they are so close yet so far.
My breathing is caught in my lungs and I huff and puff heavily in through my nose and out through the mouth. My nostrils burn.
I see Rafiki round the ridge again. He is a little bigger now than when I last saw him!
I run uphill. Run downhill. Bumper is just behind me. I know he’s trying to keep up, probably a game of his own.
I race up the path. My heart is pounding in my chest. I haven’t called out to Rafiki because I wanted to reach him. Plus, I don’t have the breath to yell.
I see a cloud of dust floating in the path. “Rafiki!” I shout.
He’s on the path above me. He stops and looks around. I can see him just through the trees. I push around the switchback and push to meet him.
I’m reaching fire as I reach him, face beet red and sweat pouring down my face.
“I forgot,” I pant, “to grab water!”
“How did you catch up to me?” Rafiki says. “Yeah, here. You can have some. You were flying!”
I was. I was flying. It’s amazing what a little determination and a mental game can do for you.
Bumper comes up behind me panting heavily. “I was — trying — to catch — you.”
We keep going up the hill. Fortunately, Rafiki slows down significantly to a moderate pace. We follow him up to a flat area.
The hills are laid out like pale sand dunes. There are circles of green water lined up far in the distance. The ground is dry and rocky with a thin layer of dried up grass.
We’re all splayed out on the ground as the rest of our group trickles in and plops down next to us. It comes as a great surprise when Rafiki realizes there are ants all over his pack. He jumps up and leaps away from the rest of us to brush it off.
“Ouch!” he says as one of them buries its pincers into his skin.
I snag a look at Bumper next to me.
“Oh, Bumper. Stand up! You’ve got ants all over you.”
We get them off, about fifteen ants in total.
“I thought there were thirty on me by the way you reacted!” Bumper says.
Fifteen fire ants isn’t enough for cause for concern?
We keep walking through the hot and dusty desert for about another three hours until we reach a rushing creek. I grab some water while Dad scouts out a better shade spot ahead of us. It’s just a minute walk from the creek.
We lay out our things under the shade of a tree and open up our food bags for lunch. The sun is shifting as we sit, so the many people around us shift here and there to avoid the hot sun.
Luxy Lucie has been making a second coffee drink of the day, so I copy her and toss in two instant coffees since I have extra. Now I enjoy an afternoon drink of my own.
I’m not completely sure that agreed with my stomach.
I go to the creek with Savannah and Luxy Lucie. We all rinse off our clothes and try to scrub the dirt off of our legs. It’s so hot outside that I can almost feel my skin singeing! While my legs are somewhat browned from the sun, my back is very pale and turning into pink splotches.
We swat at occasional horseflies. I’m sitting on a rock with my feet drying on a skinny pipe as everyone else finishes up.
We go back to the tree and lay down.
We end up hanging here at Chimney Creek for five hours. Laying around is kind of boring, especially since I am a little wired from my second coffee drink!
Luxy Lucie hasn’t been feeling well. She’s been such a trooper, pushing through all of her illness to keep moving forward. She’s got some sort of cold. Sore throat, feverish, fatigue. She has felt awful these past couple of days.
Luxy says, “Are we leaving soon?”
“I was thinking to leave around six,” Dad says.
“Oh. I just took an acetaminophen. I will leave now because I am slow up the hills,” Luxy says.
We have a 6.5 mile hike uphill. The UV is like stepping into an oven right now. Luxy hikes on. We follow her shortly after.
Up, up, and away.
I am not feeling this. We hike for a bit up the hills, by the brush, and soon we reach Fox Mill Spring. The bugs try to eat my flesh as I duck through jungle leaves to reach the little stream. I step onto the soft dirt mound covered in long vibrant green grass and fill my water bottles.
Dad is behind me as we continue on. Bumper runs to catch up. Western paintbrush flowers border the path. I step aside and let Dad pass. The fatigue is beginning to swallow me. I’m nauseous from hunger. I take a couple minutes to chow down a brownie cliff bar and immediately feel better.
Hm. That’s the first time that’s happened. Dad has talked about this before. When your body needs energy and you eat, you immediately feel better.
I’ve never considered myself an athlete. I didn’t play sports much growing up. It’s interesting to think how far I’ve come from being a soft, unmotivated kid to the physically strong, determined, and capable person that I am today.
That being said, this hill is kicking my butt. Why don’t I have that vigor I had earlier when I was chasing Rafiki up the hill? Or the energy I had from drinking two coffees in the middle of the day?
The hills go on and on. It’s not actually that big, and at times there’s a little bit of downhill. I plug in my audio book I’ve been listening to: “The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F*ck.”
This book has been really good. I deal with some social anxiety, care too much about what people think about me, and this book relates to me in many ways. It’s funny and pretty philosophical.
My cup of tea.
I try to enjoy the view. I’m pretty tired and surrounded by a wall of shrubby mini-mountains, but the thought that I’m going to be done with the desert soon keeps popping into my head. Just enjoy it.
There are small skinny trees that sprout out of the ground on the hills. They remind me of sparse hair poking out of an unshaved leg.
I see Dad and Bumper wrap around the edge of the ridge. A few moments later and I see hiker heads over some big shrubs.
I made it!
I cowboy camp here, avoiding an ant pile and too tired to check for the best angle to sleep on. I sleep close to Luxy Lucie. I’m basically in the pathway, squeezed in between the shrubs.
I’m brushing my teeth when I see a kangaroo mouse. Dad comes to stand next to me. The mouse has a long face, similar to a bunny, and is a little smaller than a tennis ball. His tail is as long as a pencil. When he moves, he hops like a kangaroo.
I was wondering how they got their name.
He runs around my feet like a little circus mouse and skirts into the bushes.
Now I have real reason to be paranoid about mice. Not that I can do much about it. I hang up my pack on the tree and prop my poles up so that the mice hopefully don’t eat my trekking pole handles.
Yum. Salty.
The sky grows darker and the stars make their nightly appearance. I’m so tired that I don’t even finish journaling.
I lay down and close my eyes.
Uh-oh. I can’t fall asleep.
The Wonderland Journal 
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