After our long break (I hadn’t taken two rest days together yet), it was very difficult to adjust back to trail life. The trail didn’t take it easy on us the first day. We had our full resupply, plus four liters of water to carry up a big hill. It was already hot and sunny by nine that morning. That was a huge contrast to laying in bed, watching Pretty Woman, and drinking beer in an air conditioned hotel room. The next couple days were also challenging – lots of elevation change and very hot. We woke up very early and left by five in order to get in as many miles as we could before the heat really started.

These hard days were so much better for the little things. Early mornings meant we got to see the sun rise over mountains and wind farms ahead of us, while the moon still shone bright behind us. Excel (Kristy) had downloaded the bouldering world cup and I found a cool new sport. Eating chips and watching other people work harder than we were, while sitting in the shade, was an unexpected treat. Posing as a boy band at the 600 mile marker was also fun with the newly mixed group. We’d joined with some Iowans, Dainty Hulk Smash, Twinkletoes, and Jinx. One of the rewarding things about the trail is that pretty much any group of people is guaranteed to get along and have a great time. Another cool thing as we approached Lake Isabella was that I could tell that the landscape was changing, giving over slowly to boulders and pine trees, a sign that we really were getting out of the desert.

Up until Tehachepi, I’d been feeling generous towards the desert. We’d had some hot days and long water carries, but it’d also been diverse, and not as hot as I’d expected. I made the mistake of thinking that I’d kind of miss it. These last few days of the desert killed all positive feelings for the last 600 or so miles. It was as though the desert was trying to pack everything awful that the desert could hold into those days. It was hot and hilly, there were prickly plants that stuck to everything, biting ants, and the crowning glory, a forty-two mile waterless stretch. The only reason this part of the desert didn’t literally kill us was was the water caches. There are a couple water caches in this section, maintained by angels. We actually got to meet an angel who helped to bring water to the caches. She also gave us a ride back to trail from Lake Isabella, so she was a double angel for us!

Lake Isabella was our last stop before Kennedy Meadows, the point on the PCT where we enter the Sierra Nevada. On our way into town, we caught sight of snow capped mountains, including Mount Whitney. These signs that we were probably going to make it out of the desert, barring any disasters, were so exciting to see. Also exciting was an amazing hitch into town. A couple in an RV picked up all eight of us at the road and brought us straight to Burger King. This time, I didn’t need the restaurant to tell us how bad we looked. Getting into the RV, the couple’s granddaughter burst into tears at the sight of us. Ouch.

Once in town, Daisy Dukes, Tinkle, and I found a motel to stay at- a 50’s style place that probably hadn’t been renovated since then. We took another zero day, giving the snow time to melt in the Sierra. As per usual, we spent our time eating, getting clean, and talking to people in the “real” world. The five other people that we’d been hiking with left a day early, which was a bummer- goodbyes aren’t fun on the trail.

We got back to trail the next day after a huge breakfast, supplemented by a milkshake. The aforementioned trail angel dropped us off and we began another hot section, the last two days of desert. We’d sung and danced to “Ice, Ice, Baby,” which I’m positive angered some desert spirit, because it was 100 degrees that day, with no shade. Our mileage was lower than we’d planned, which is more disappointing than I like to admit. I left camp the next morning at 4:30 to avoid walking in that heat again. We took a break at the top of one of the hills and I learned some German words from Daisy Dukes and Tinkle. Obviously they were curse words, the first things you learn in any language.

That night, we stayed near a creek where there were ants. Lots. Of. Ants. We couldn’t escape them during dinner and I got bitten by one. There aren’t ants like that in Michigan. I got a huge red welt about three inches in diameter. I’ve definitely held a grudge ever since, wasting no chance to flick any ant that dares to draw near.

We were only nine miles from Kennedy Meadows, the end of the desert, and a restaurant. That distance, over relatively flat terrain, flew by the next morning and I broke my very loosely measured personal record for speed. At the 700 mile marker, I waited for Daisy Dukes and Tinkle and we walked the last two miles together to Kennedy Meadows, triumphantly listening to “Ice, Ice, Baby” once again.