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Hiker's
Oasis to Scissors Crossing |
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April 29, 2010 I opened my eyes under my tarp's rear hoop just as the sun was starting to peak over the eastern hills. Last night's winds were now gentle breezes as I twisted my neck to see if our site-mates were still grounded. Amber was snuggled deep into my chest, facing me, making my left hand go numb. I gently slid out from under her and rubbed my aching shoulder before crawling out from our flattened tent. All I remember before passing out the night before was peering out of the rear of the tarp, looking up at puffs of black clouds dart overhead, temporarily blocking out the moon's incredible beam of light as they swiftly flew by, seemingly just feet above our heads. Vicki and Denis were still asleep as I woke Amber and looked over the tarp. I shook Henry's hand in Lake Morena Park and would do so again. There was not a bit of damage to the tarp other than the front guyline adjustment webbing; a snap to repair and not part of the actual tarp.
The sun felt good on my weary body as we packed up and set off at a leisurely pace. Laughter bounced off the local boulders as I pointed to an overhanging rock where Jeremiah had sat on a cactus in the quest for shade in 08'. After the laughter subsided, I knew what we were both thinking.
For the first time, the night before had placed a fear into my little one's heart that was still quite vivid. We really were quite safe as the rear hoop eliminated any possibility of suffocation especially after I staked the tent into a make-shift bivy. The silnylon would have protected us against any rain and it was so windy, condensation was not an issue.
I let Amber take lead as I slowed to reminisce about my time in the area just two years prior. It was hard to think this trip may end like my last one; a thousand-plus miles from home, 80+ miles of hiking, ending at the same spot, feeling the same failure. Knowing I have a habit of looking at the bleak side of things, I took a moment to think of what has happened. Through the rain, snow, and wind, I was able to re-live my hikes from 07' and 08's with my daughter from beginning to end.
We neared the San Felipes as I tried to change my perspective. I wanted so bad to see what the land was like ahead, but would not be able to. Not today. We crossed highway S2 before plodding through the sand under the trestle of 78. I laid out the ground cloth under while staring at the cold, grey concrete. I remembered Wild Bill, Jeremiah and the other faces of people whom I never asked their names. This morning, I thought we would be continuing back into the mountains, but the wind was picking up speed, equaling what we had dealt with the day before. One glance towards Amber's face foretold the future. I fired up the stove and hunkered down, closing my eyes, as the spray of sand stung our cheeks.
I assured Amber we did not have to go on, even through her weak attempts to tell me otherwise. With the wind at the force it was the day before, heading back up into what we managed to survive the day before did not offer a promising future. As one solitary tear rolled down, I hugged her, telling her "now we can both start were we left off." The dreadful thought of calling my uncle weighed heavy on me, but like a Band-Aid, I made it as quick as I could. I shuffled back to our boiling noodles before Denis and Vicki showed up to make lunch. We talked for a while before they took off for the mountains as Amber now had tears running down both cheeks. "I want to go on dad."
I was irritated and anxious, but figured I had made the right choice for my daughter. We gathered our packs to wait out my uncle in the sun at Scissors Crossing. We sat and talked with the passers-by including a couple named Tradeja and Jess. They were concerned about hitching into Julian, but were even more concerned with their current lack of food. Amber and I took the opportunity to pay forward a piece of what had been given to us along this trip, giving them our remaining goodies. As my uncle pulled up, Amber said something I had not heard since talking to Chris Willett before my first step in Campo; it is the people, the relationships, that you will miss most.
After some pie at Julian, Unc dropped us off at Motel Circle in San Diego. I had not planned on the trip being like this. Amber averaged 15.5 miles per day, leaving us with an entire week until our plane left. There was nothing I could do as I just embraced the unknown future and figured this would be a vacation for the record books. I grabbed a cheap room for the week before we took four showers (2 a piece) while waiting for room service.
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