Town Suck. June 2.

I can finally admit that this trail is harder than I thought it would
be. Each section seems to be more mind-bogglingly difficult than the
last, but if my tears are any indicator, I didn't cry or even think of
crying during the last 104 miles--and they were brutal. Success!

I left the Saufley's alone (which was rather depressing) determined to
hike to Mojave, CA in four days. That meant at least 26 per day, which
at this point in the trip was totally doable. The heat had cranked up
a notch since last week, and I would be facing long waterless
segments. Better to move quickly...

Team Zero was sending me pics from two days ahead, including a sweet
hitch into Lake Hughes, CA for Philly Cheesesteaks and ice cream. But
things get weird when you are alone, and suddenly walking all day
without the distractions of other people, long breaks, and gluttonous
food stops seems reasonable, and even preferable...

On my first day back on the trail I met Ann, a former investment
banker who has run every day for 30 years, carries a reflective
umbrella on the trail and has bright pink painted nails. I just knew
we would get along. Yet, strangely, solitude won out for both of us,
as we only spent a brief break together at the Hikers' Oasis, a water
(beer and soda, too) cache, and later as I cooked my dinner before
departing for another few miles before dark. It's the curse of being
alone. The constant need to continue competes with the urge to stop
and chat, creating a dichotomy in your emotions on the trail. I want
to be with people, yet I want to be alone.

Green Tortuga expressed the same sentiment as he left the Saufley
house, having hiked for weeks with Charmin, and now leaving for the
desert, alone, pressed by an internal schedule, by the omnipresent
drive to experience the trail and the guilt of spending too much time
in town. It's called town suck. You are sucked in by the supposed
creature comforts that you believe you need, juxtaposed with the guilt
of enjoying things that you know you can survive without. You try to
flee, some fail and never emerge from the vortex. Others make it out
but subsequently may long for the luxuries and the companionship of
others.

On Day 2 post-Saufleys I didnt see a soul the entire day. My ipod ran
out of juice, and I almost ran out of water, but I managed 28 miles,
and I hit my halfway point. It's not as much fun when you have to take
pictures of yourself.

The next morning I made it to Hikertown, a toyland-looking western
town built on the edge of Hwy 138 and the LA acqueduct. I met a few
hikers and then fled (there's that bizarre drive again). I walked all
17 waterless miles of the acqueduct alone (and thought I might lose my
mind out of boredom), but while sitting on the dirt road a toothless
rancher pulled up in his beatup pickup.

"Hey little lady, be careful of the rattlers. They're out right now. I
seen some big ones tonight...the Mojave Green....and be careful of
strangers, too. " It was like a scene out of a desert version of
Deliverance. That was the shortest break I took on the entire trail.

Just as I approached my campsite for the night, I caught Running Wolf
who was limping and swearing at the ferocious headwind. The wind was
so intense that I decided to forego sleeping and just got up at 3:30.
I said goodbye to Running Wolf then I fled at 5:30am (trail dichotomy
again) and climbed over 4000ft for a view of the entire last week's
worth of walking! The final moments of yesterday's trek into Mojave
town were spent directly under the huge wind turbines. I was in awe
and thankful to still be in such good shape to enjoy the scene. I then
promptly got lost just one mile from the road from too much gawking, I
suppose. Oh well, the other 103 went just fine.

At the risk of being sacrilegious to one of my favorite bands, the
song for this section is Metallica's Nothing Else Matters: "So close
no matter how far. Couldn't be much more from the heart. Forever
trusting who we are. And nothing else matters." Not even a Philly
girl's cheesesteak in the desert. Battling town suck is rough, but I
emerged from the vortex.

I'll be slowing down in Mojave,CA for a few days, then pushing forward
for my final stretch alone before the Sierras. Stay tuned for more on
the Mojave Spaceport. 10-4 from the vortex at Mile 559!