Ill-fated adventure amongst cold mists and desert flowers.

The Day’s Stats

Miles walked: 22.0

Cumulative Miles: 42.00

Gross Elevation Gained: 4,481 ft

Cumulative Gross Elevation: 7,545 ft

Me, most of the second half of Day 2.

Given how day 1 ended for me, hobbling on aching feet into Lake Morena at a snail’s pace, I really shouldn’t have been so ambitious about day 2. But there I was, planning out my water and scanning the map to my desired destination 22 miles up the trail at Mt. Laguna. I had woken up feeling fine, though, feet refreshed and with a set of new legs like Lietenant Dan.

I was able to get water out of a spigot at the Lake Morena campgrounds and had some practice using my squeeze filter for the first time, outing myself as a total backpacking newbie as I struggled with it and my pack in front of the other hikers who had camped there. I didn’t need as much water for this stretch, meaning a lighter pack by several pounds, but I fortified myself with a hearty breakfast of hot fries and waxy chocolate donuts anyway. Pre-hike I had promised the chocolate donuts we would be together soon; we just had to be patient. And here we were, in a guilt free affair in the wilderness.

Check out them crusty socks after only day 1! Turns out it’s of utmost importance to keep your socks dry and the dirt beat off of them in order to avoid the devil’s lesions (blisties).

I managed to pull a 10 by 10, as they say in hiker world. This means 10 miles by 10am and pretty much means you’re having a good day. Which I was! The terrain had turned flat and meadowy, the cool mists and clouds had stuck around from the day before, creating hiking conditions that just let the miles slip by unnoticed. I even messaged my friend Thigh Gap and told him I’d easily be in Mt. Laguna before sundown, where a couple of his friends, who happen to be experienced thru-hikers, trail angels extraordinaire and people I had wanted to meet, were staying. Oh what an idiotic boob I was back a week or two ago. The next 12 miles were a race against time and battle against my failing legs and feet that humbled me completely.

The first few miles out of Lake Morena were lovely as hell. I guess by lovely I mean easy, with pleasant, Shire-esque scenery and cool temps.

Flowers always seem brighter on cloudy days, and the trail thus far had been an orgy of different varieties.

Fields of sage and Indian paint brush(plant check on the last one please).

Cruisey strollin.

As soon as I started up again after my 10am coffee break I noticed some nagging from my feet. I’m flat footed and have always had issues with standing or walking for long periods of time. Teeheee I must’ve compartmentalized that fact or thought I could overcome it on this trail through sheer will. A fair amount of foot pain is normal starting out on a venture like this after all; if you’re not used to walking 20 miles a day over baby-head-sized rolling stones with a fully weighted pack on your back, it only stands to reason it’ll take some time for your feet and joints to build up the strength to manage these demands.

I didnt expect, however, to feel like the Little Mermaid(the scary one, not the Disney one), walking on stabbing knives with every step I took. But it was exactly what I was imagining as each painful stride took me infinitesimally closer to Mt. Laguna. I must’ve stopped every thirty minutes to take off my socks and rub my cramping, stabbing arches. Time got away from me this way and I found myself, around 2:30 pm, only 2.5 miles farther down the trail. It was getting colder too. I put on my gloves and puffy jacket and swore to stop taking so many gd pictures and get a move on.

The trail got a lot rockier and needed to climb a couple thousand feet from the meadows below to get to Mt. Laguna.

Stop taking pictures of the dag-gern yuccas Becky! We all get that they’re perty.

Ruh roh. @<@

At around 5pm I started passing a lot of the hikers I’d camped with the night before. They were all setting up camp before Mt. Laguna because of the cold, windy, and now wet conditions. They asked how far I planned on going. When I hobbled by and told them I was going all the way to Mt. Laguna I got a lot of “……Really?….”d, “uhhh, be careful”s, and “We’ll send out a search party for you tomorrow maahaaa”s. I still figured I had done 20 the day before, I should be able to do 22 today. I had a headlamp if it came to hiking in the dark, which it was definitely going to. I had 7 more miles to go, and although I was hobbling, I wasn’t taking any breaks since I would start shivering if I wasn’t moving, even in all my layers. A word on shewee usage for day 2: still peed on myself a lot. I didnt remember using it being that hard, but I’ll let you all know when I ended up having a breakthrough.

At this point Thigh Gap said his friends, Leslie and Keith (the best Canadians in the planet, bt dubs!) would be happy to grant me refuge in their cabin for the night, let me shower and wash my clothes, and feed me dinner and *PIE*!! This, if nothing else, spurred me onwards and allowed me to ignore the screaming in my feet and now my knees and ankles.

It was getting dark and scary about 3 miles out of town, and it turns out prescription sunglasses dont work none too good with a headlamp. Actually they just cancel each other out in a weird, dimensionless haze. I had only brought sunglasses since I wanted to be as m.k minimalist as possible, and figured I’d always either be hiking in the sun or sleeping. Good one, Reborkles. Luckily Leslie had set out to meet me on the trail and found me wandering around like Stevie Wonder in the dark. She hugged me and pulled a frosty Coor’s out of her pack, asking if I’d like to chug it before we braved the dark 3 miles ahead. Erm..YES. Best beer I’ve ever tasted in mah lyfe. She put on my headlamp and basically led me down the winding trail and through the campground on the edge of town. Finally we arrived around 9pm! I met Keith and their other friend from Canada, Angela, and we had a great time at dinner as I recounted my foibles of the day to them. They had tons of advice on how an inexperienced, or really any, thru-hiker should begin a long journey. I was doing almost everything wrong, it turns out: pushing my pace and distance too much, ignoring pains that became injuries, and giving in to the pressure of doing 20 mile days just to keep up or feel like I was making good time. Never has a glowing cabin looked so good to me, or dinner tasted so good, or advice been so welcome, or a couch with tons of fluffy blankets feel so comfortable.

Lookit what Leslie dragged in. Woof.

Healthy food yummmm. Sorry chocolate donuts, I’ll see you back on the trail.