Losing the Team but Finding Myself. May 28.

This blog was going to be entitled "Low point on a High Point" after
my tumultuous solo ascent of Baden-Powell, but since Wednesday I found
a new sense of strength on the trail which only emerged after
surviving alone for three whole days...

Wednesday morning Ani departed, leaving me to contend with Mt Baden
Powell. The trail switchbacks were fine until the snow buried them
completely. I made a few wrong turns in sight of Special 41, Dr. No
and Old Man Turbo...I hate it when that happens. The dumb girl in the
skirt doesn't know where she's going.

Soon there was no where left to go but vertical. Solid snow as far up
as I could see. The three guys stopped for a break and I decided to
begin kicking steps to the summit, at least another mile up. Once on
top, the wind was fierce (and I should mention here that I hate wind),
the clouds were rolling in, and I stood atop a shear ridgeline that
stretched another seven miles in front of me.

I had accomplished the climb, but that was the easy part: just go up
regardless of where the trail really is. The tough part was descending
without breaking a leg or getting lost. This required negotiating the
windy crest, avoiding the snow patches, but constantly surveying for
the trail, which would occasionally pop out from under the snow to
entice me.

I made a few wrong turns. I cried, and I also screamed at myself when
I had to backtrack uphill to find the trail again. Eventually I
redeemed myself, hitting a campground as The Graduate and Picker were
starting a campfire. They were stunned when I cooked my dinner and
continued on...I just had to get out of the snow, plus it was
difficult to commune with two 20-somethings who admitted having $11 to
their name and no maps of the next section.

I walked until 7:30pm and had a beautiful sunset from my tent. The
views from a cloudy day on Baden Powell may not have been worth the
effort, but the sense of accomplishment was. It rained really hard
that night. I was impressed that my tent withstood the pounding. I
guess that I have learned something, considering that my tent fell
over on me at least twice on this trip.

The next two days were road walking. Many cursed it, but I loved it,
especially when I realized that my iphone google maps had even better
suggestions for road detours. I hitched into Little Rock for a burger,
fries and shake. Then I walked into Acton for pancakes and sausage the
next day.

On my way out of town Musk Ox called me to say goodbye. He was two
days ahead of me, still at the Saufleys, but waylaid by tendonitis,
and headed home for some recovery. I walked fast to catch him just in
time. (a photo of us at the Saufleys, above) I couldn't convince him
to even hike slow with me. Back to the "I'm looking for cool people to
hike with" drawing board. Maybe I'll find my next victim here in Agua
Dulce. Stay tuned for an entry on Hiker Heaven--the Saufley's house.

Song for this section is NIN's "Home": "To break from what we're tied
to, God knows how much I've tried to." I've made a break, tested
myself and I succeeded after much second-guessing. It was hard, but I
guess that it can only get easier from here??