July 27, 2016

Kennedy Meadows was still empty when I awoke. I had been hoping that the hikers Mike had mentioned the night before would still be around but they must have found an early evening ride into town. The store opened at 9:00am so I camped out on the porch to patch holes and think.

Signs of life began appearing at 7:15am and at 7:45am a couple showed up for a social visit. At this point I figured it was safe for me to wander over and say hello. Despite protests, Scott insisted on cooking me a hot egg breakfast. He said he would put the word out about a hiker needing a ride down into town but to sit tight for now; I knew the drill. Brad, another one of the Kennedy Meadows General Store crew, showed up shortly thereafter and, triggered by the fear mongering experience with water I had had the day before, the three of us began talking about the Wild Effect.

The Wild Effect is the name they gave to the surge of hikers on trail this season inspired by the movie Wild. They have done little to no research on backpacking in general or the trail itself. Many of them are trying to experience exactly what Cheryl Straid experiences in the movie going so far in one case as to ask for Meadow Ed, a legendary trail angel known for frequenting Kennedy Meadows. He hasn't been seen at Kennedy Meadows in 15+ years and yet hikers insisted they needed him to help go through their pack.

I landed a ride late morning with a local firefighter. We had to stop by his place on the way down to town. Along the way there we passed through some of the burn area caused by a PCT thruhiker earlier in the season - further reflection on lack of preparedness and respect rampant on the trail. We picked up his son and the three of us headed down into Ridgecrest.

I had lunch at the familiar Arby's and then headed out to face the heat and wait for the bus over to Bakersfield. The bank thermometer read 117 degrees Fahrenheit and there was no shade. The bus was late. I was a sweaty mess. It did add some perspective to the days in the high country I had considered hot and sunny - the temperature difference and still air down here would have been miserable to hike in and I was glad we had hiked SoCal when we did.

The bus finally arrived and I welcomed the AC onboard. The first half of the ride to the transfer stop was uneventful. I listened to a book on tape and continued thinking about my plans for the remainder of the summer. I thought I had missed the transfer, and thus the only option for getting to Bakersfield for the next 48 hours, and had a little bit of a freakout before someone kindly corrected me. The second leg of the journey started off with a bang as we passed a car that had rolled 100+ feet off the road into the valley. It appeared that everyone involved was okay but it got me thinking about the dangers faced on and off the trail and how I was almost certainly safer on the trail. The hazards on trail were more foreign and thus seemed more dangerous but they were, by and large, within my control; instead of worrying about a distracted driver crashing into me I worried about whether I would make the right calls about weather conditions, about water carried, and about animal safety practices.

Bakersfield was not any better the second time visiting. I hoofed it from the bus station to the train station, called my family to check in, and sat down to wait for the train to Stockton. I was challenged by the conductor about my trekking poles, which I ultimately had to surrender for the duration of the trip, before settling in to sleep. The train got in an hour late but fortunately the bus to Oakland had waited. I transferred only partly awake and slept the rest of the way to Oakland. The other passengers seemed to scatter as soon as they disembarked and I was quickly left alone waiting for an Uber at 2:00am. I made it to Ostin's place without incident, however, and passed out almost immediately.