"It's not too late to turn around now..."
"I'm surprised we are so committed."
Ryan and Christian, two friends I met at UCSB freshmen year were ecstatic at the idea of a backpacking trip. Making the long haul up from Southern California they were ready with their gear for an adventure.
After changing plans multiple times due to weather, we came back to the original plan - backpacking the King Range in Northern California. With dawn around the corner, we stepped outside and let the cold crisp air bite into our bodies. Loading our packs into the Tacoma, Ryan looked at his watch and comments, "we need to get on the road now otherwise we won't make no pass."
In the truck, trying to find a radio station without static we cruise Highway One in the dark. As the One veers inland, the first sunlight softly shines through the towering redwoods and fog. Climbing out of the fog into sunshine we drive along a high mountain pass. The fog below looks like a dark grey ocean as it sits in the valleys around us.
Three hours later we make it to the trailhead and unload our gear. A small rusted car drives by with it's windows rolled down. Smoke wafting out of the window eventually reaches us.
"Dude I love this place. It's nine in the morning and they are already smoking joints." I laugh in return to Ryan's comment.
The car drives around the parking lot and parks by us. The man stepping out of the car in grimy clothes comes over and asks if we want a photo taken. Saying yes, Ryan hands him his camera. With the three of us posing with our packs, the man says, "One... Two... Three.. Say Weed!" Handing the camera back to Ryan he looks at the three of us and says, "have an epic!"
While the man is walking away, Christian looks at Ryan and I and retorts, "have an epic? What does that even mean?"
Grabbing our packs we make our way down to the trailhead. Stepping onto the beach with our fifty-five pound packs, the black coarse sand gives way as our boots sink in ankle deep. Each step is slow and exhausting.
"This is gnarly..."
Having done the hike before, I reply, "it gets worse, we only have ten more miles of this. We have to make it to no pass in time before the tide gets too high."
Slowly making our way along the ankle deep sand, it eventually gives way to grapefruit sized cobblestones. Walking across them our feet slide out from underneath us with the sound of crunching ice. Each step is a potential for a rolled ankle.
I jokingly comment, "what's worse, walking in ankle deep sand or these cobblestones."
Ryan laughs but Christians looks at me and says "shut up, I think my IT Band is going out."
Stopping and unloading his pack in a sandy region, we look at his knee. The tendon on the side of his knee is slightly bulging out. Grabbing my first aid kid I grab a Motrin and hand it to him. Finding my Ace elastic bandage I begin bracing his knee.
"You good."
"Yeah I think so."
Continuing on I'm a little worried looking at Christian's knee. Limping in the sand like Forest Gump, he hobbles on swinging his leg around on each step. I'm thinking about how it's bad to push it but we have to continue on. We are in no pass. There is no turning back. There is no waiting. If we don't continue we will get trapped by the tides.
A couple more hours pass by as we slowly make our way along the coastline. Eventually we spot our destination. A large expanse of headlands at the edge of the mountains lined with towering evergreens. Deer graze along the oceanfront while whales spout and jump several hundred yards out at sea. Logs line the beach where people hunker down between them for protection from the wind.
Stoked that we've finally reached our destination we set down our packs and sprawl out on the logs. Stretching out Ryan asks, "do we need to make our camp now?" "No we can wait for a little bit," I say.
With dusk approaching we put on our headlamps and begin preparing dinner. Looking around we see other camps along the headlands do the same. Glowing fires begin illuminating their camps as their headlamps flick to and fro like searchlights. As it gets later, campfires and headlamps begin to disappear.
Hemingway...
"I'm going to sleep so good tonight."
"Yeah I can't wait to pass out."
With the North wind picking up, sorely I crawl into my tent and my down sleeping bag. It's going to be a cold night.
Some other photos from the trip
Where mountains meet the sky and shadows meet the light.
Welcome home
