Will Hike 4 Burgers

I woke up to a rustling sound in the bushes by my tent. It startled me but it was too sloppy and noisy to be a predator, and when I saw a little tongue licking the moisture off my tent I relaxed a bit. A couple seconds later a voice called out for the pup and off he ran. Too fast to get a pic but an interesting shot all the same!

I rolled around a bit and packed up shop and took off. I was at mile 329 and the goal for the day was 342. The first few miles were a steady uphill and I aced it. I walked quickly and evenly, paying very close attention to my gait and trying not to stomp or place undue stress and jolting impact on my ankle which had developed a dull pain. I made it to the summit of the first ridge and stood relaxing for a minute, looking back at the beautiful landscape behind me.

I was nibbling on dry ramen noodles and reading a wildlife sign when a woman quietly walked up behind me and said "Hi!" I jumped and ramen noodles went flying like confetti and my heart skipped a beat. Hiking alone you constantly wonder in the back of your mind if you're being stalked by a big cat or approached by something scary and perhaps the crunch of the ramen had muffled the sound of her footsteps but she very nearly literally scared the shit out of me! And I scared her, too. We both laughed (at me) and started down the hill. She was a 5th grade teacher who ran ultramarathons, and as we walked she got quicker and quicker. I kept up, not wanting to stop the pleasant conversation we were having but soon it became clear she was going far too fast. I saw a creek and had an out, telling her I needed to stop for water. Like every day hiker or trail user I've encountered she was very happy and supportive of us hikers and sincerely wished me well. I crawled into the woods and sat by the spring, purifying another few liters for the final stretch.

I had been texting KC and she was waiting for me at McDonald's. I had 4 miles to go. These last 4 miles were downhill, like really downhill. The view was incredible from the top and the trail was exciting with sections of trail winding along narrow ridges on what all of California looks like to me: a fragile, loosely held-together pile of rocks and sand.

My pace fell to almost one mile every 40 minutes as my intensely painful steps with swollen feet required constant breaks. patient KC cheered me on via text and a couple more hikers cruised past me on the descent. I've said it before, but this was one of the longest stretches of the trail yet. I couldn't shake the pain in my feet and as I entered the final canyon approaching the hwy I could feel myself transitioning into a full-on Mac attack. I went through what felt like 45 curves before finally laying my eyes on the parking lot at mile 342. The sign pointed the way and soon I was walking like a zombie up the hill to the fabled Mickey D's.

It was good to catch up with other hikers I hadn't seen in a while. Between shoving nuggets in our mouths and chugging milkshakes we all swapped stories of the last week, including snow storms which had swept through...and a group of hikers who bailed on the storm and went to LA to wait it out!

KC and I shared a room and lounged around all night dining on Del Taco and catching up over terrible tv and beer. She left early the following morning and I decided to stay and let my ankle calm down since it was a bit sore.

The following day, fresh off a zero (and a McMuffin at the trailside McDonald's) in Cajon Pass I headed off uphill with 7 liters of water and what I thought was a well-rested, sore-yet-healthy ankle. There was a patch of poodle dog bush (a nettle, very poisonous) and the scenery was again, gorgeous. There was even a water cache, with water!

I had just taken the zero and bummed (or rather paid way too much for) a ride to the San Bernardino REI with some fellow hikers where I paid a chunk of REI's mortgage in exchange for new shoes and insoles which were meant to do great things for my achey feet and tender ankle. Back to the trusty Keen boots, the same boots that carried me through New Zealand and the French Alps, I was back in business!

Before this hike I had a short list of old soccer injuries that I thought might come out of hiding somewhere along the trail. It took 350 miles (and a stroke of bad luck) for this to happen, but happen it did, and it happened hard.

My blind confidence in my new kicks lasted most of the day. I was happy with my progress and took a serious of photos showing how far I had hiked that day..

My hike was going fine until at about mile 350, when a tiny disaster struck. As I climbed up a switchback on what looked like a normal flat trail my left foot collapsed 6 inches into the trail. I had sunk into a gopher hole! And of course it was my sore ankle and, unprepared for this strange occurrance, down I crashed onto the ankle, with all the weight of me and my water, a full weight of....let's just say it was heavy. Don't panic. Don't panic.. I sat down in the middle of the trail and did a little exam of my ankle. I wiggled it, pressed on it, looked real hard at it and basically came to the conclusion I had no idea what anything meant or what I was doing. I stood up and hiked on, slowly.

Six miles later at the top of a small saddle I came up to a couple tents and decided it was a good time to call it a day. I pitched my tent and cooked and ate a pleasant dinner with a new friend, Rick. I crawled into my tent and spent the rest of the night trying to ignore both my ankle pain and my suddenly leaking air mattress. I finally fell asleep around 4am.

Of course, at 6am (as per usual- no matter how unfair or unwanted) I was wide awake. I rolled around a bit on my deflated air mattress and peeked outside. 2 guys were gone, 1 remained. I packed slowly waiting on the 1 guy to pack up and go. We had briefly talked and he appeared to be stalling, perhaps waiting for me to get up, maybe wanting to hike out together, but I was ready for another solo day....and digging and using a homemade toilet is so much more peaceful when no one's around ;)

Eventually I heard him leave and I finished packing inside the tent. I took my daily ibuprofen and crawled outside. My ankle was all kinds of hurt. Standing up I realized this was a pretty ugly injury and as I packed up my tent and took off I was already thinking this was going to be a problem..

I hobbled on with the distinctive waddle of a hiker who is trying to redirect weight, change their gait and avoid pain. I was quickly passed by a couple hikers who seemed unconcerned with my pronounced limp as they said excuse me and walked past without small talk. I took frequent breaks and elevated my ankle (again with no idea of why other than having seen another hiker do it). Even when injured its nearly impossible to be in a bad mood when faced with views like these:

(Happy Mother's Day!)

I hobbled almost 13 miles before flagging down the first vehicle I had seen that day and getting a ride from a forest service ranger. His name was Spiritwolf and he was so interesting I forgot the pain in my ankle and listened as he drove me down hwy 2 telling me stories of his life and goals for Native Americans. He also told me he thought I was like his wife who was descended from warriors, and who was stubborn when injured and determined to keep going against better judgement. Guilty..

I arrived at the Mountain Hardware (not Mountain Hardwear) store and went to the hiker section to look through their resources and find some lodging. I didn't know it at the time but I was about to spend a considerable amount of time in the town of Wrightwood, CA, and I was about to luck into the perfect place and perfect people to make my time away from the trail as interesting as I could have hoped for. But I think they deserve their own post, posted soon :)