Keïteï Ventures

When I awake it’s super misty and damp, condensation layers my sleeping bag. Animals such rabbits and chipmunks scurry around. I get up at 6am, hang my sleeping bag from the tree and wander down to the petrol station. If it is closed I’m hoping the helpful lady the trio talked of yesterday comes in to help hikers again. The petrol station is only a mile away and without my 20lb pack on it’s great! I skip a little and dance down the desert road. It’s still a bit foggy and I can make out little bimble along. Suddenly I hear yelping yowls ahead and see a coyote skirt the road. It like I am enjoying the solitude of the road. Suddenly it’s large ears twist up and it clocks me. I marvel at the sight of the mammal having never seen one before, then in an instant it’s gone. I walked on and found the petrol station and golf park – which offered meals including breakfast. Then I soon realise they are both closed, the shop open for business soon! Darn~! The first instance of my book failing me due to it being published three years ago. I desperately needed to refuel. I walk back and wait for the others to wake and the center to open – which it doesn’t. One of the girls checks her guide and says that there is a decent resupply shop about nine miles from here, she gives it a quick call and they’re open. I pack up and the trio call a dial-a-bus service for a ride into Julian, a nearby town. We bid each other farewell and good luck.

So off I go. I begin walking in the mid morning heat and reach the golf course again. I see a man emerge from the vapour with an energetic little dog. I smile as we cross paths and realise how odd I must look, perhaps he is used to hikers. A conversation sparks between us; about the trail, that I’m from England and the fact that I’m going to walk nine miles to the shop. Something the man has done before and knows what it’s like to do so in this heat.

“Well I don’t envy you Katie, good luck with your hitch” and we part shaking hands. I bid goodbye to the man, David and his dog Duchess and trudge on. I’m able to thumb a ride from the welcomed shaded patch beneath a tree.  This will be my first ever hitchhike. I’m pretty nervous as I’ve never done this before but people do this on the trail so this was part of the PCT way of life. Unfortunately every second person is on a motorbike as it’s Confederate Memorial Day, a state holiday, something I was unaware of. It gives people a chance to honour and remember the Confederate soldiers who died or were wounded during the American Civil War during the 1860s. So I won’t be getting a hitch off a biker and every car that drives by doesn’t want to know. A few large RVs drive by and they all look in the opposite direction, completely avoiding my gaze. After twenty minutes I’m a bit disheartened but still wiggle my thumb hopefully at everyone. Then I see a large white land-rover vehicle slow. I look to the drivers side which is on the wrong side as it’s an American car and see a small black dog sitting there, it looks like David’s dog. I then look to the actual driver and see David waving at me. I can’t believe my luck! I wave back and rush over.

“Toss your pack in the back and get in the front” David says, he directs Duchess his dog into the back and allows me into the front seat. Duchess however immediately climbs over and plonks herself on my lap regardless, her tongue lolling out, allowing the air-con to blast over her. 

“Thank you so much for picking me up” he chuckles at my gratitude and waves it away.

“My pleasure, I know what it’s like to walk this road in this heat, not fun”

Off we speed to the shops and I still marvel at my luck.

“Now if you don’t mind me asking, what is it exactly about the PCT which captured your imagination so thoroughly?” David asks kindly. I smile, a question I’d have to get used to. 

“Erm, I’m not exactly sure” I begin, “I’ve hiked a bit before but nothing on this scale, after I discovered the trail I got hooked on hiking blogs and before I knew it, I was applying for my visa, acquiring a hiking permit, booking a plane to L.A. and here I am”. 

“What was your job before here?”

“I worked in London, as a Personal Assistant, general office role”.

“Ah London, interesting place, always so much going on, I worked in banking”

We pull up and I reach back for my pack, “I’ll be driving back if you want a return ride”. I freeze dumbstruck by his kindness. 

“Yes please, that would be amazing”. 

I dive in head first, my stomach is beyond excited about the prospect of new food. Not cold couscous or dried fruit, broken parts of cereal bars and bland warm water. It is definitely a bad idea to shop on an empty stomach as I end up getting two bags of food, all bad for me and my teeth but I don’t care, I shall feast to night on the trail! David points out the deIi and I buy a waffle and omelet combination, not something I would normally order but I was pretty ravenous.

I scout the food shelves for anything else and quickly pay. I probably have too much, who am I kidding I have way too much food but I don’t care FOOOOD! I can deal with the consequences of my actions later, when my pack rips due to grocery overload. The ride back is swift and I prepare my thank you speech in my head when David drives past my drop off point. Erm I’m about to politely interject and inform David with my English awkwardness that we might have missed the trail junction when he asks. 

“Would you like to have lunch with me?” O my! I think suddenly panicked, then David finishes his sentence “And my wife”. 

“O yes that would be lovely” suddenly feeling bad about my knee-jerk reaction to his offer. 

David turns down a street lined with fancy houses all large and neatly kept. We pull into a driveway, an electronic gate swings open and we cruise up the driveway. The house looks like it belongs in the Flintstones movie; large and white, deceiving in size. The garden is well kept with everything in its place, despite the harsh climate it looks stunning. We pull up round the back and park up beneath a sheltered spot. A woman who must be David’s wife appears. She wears a cap with the New Zealand emblem; a fern embroidered onto it and removes gardening gloves to shake hands. They welcome me inside and it feels like I’ve walked into an episode of cribs (when celebrities invite camera crews to check out their homes known as cribs). Their living room, kitchen and dining room are rolled into one and are open plan so it feels huge. There is a baby grand piano in one corner and an enormous fireplace in the other – I could have fit inside it easily. Olivia, David’s wife recommends that I sit on their balcony and I wander out into the Greek style platform, built to be cool in the heat. A magnificent view stretches out before me leading towards the Cleveland National Forest, green bushes spring up from the chaparral earth and give way to darkened mountains on the horizon. I slide down into a deck chair, admiring the view before me and try to comprehend my luck. I set about eating my egg and ham waffle combo, a napkin with the United States flag on it accompanies my food celebrating the day. Olivia returns with an amazing pot of English tea!  Dare I ask if it’s Yorkshire tea? She then proceeds to bring out yesterday’s homemade pizza and fresh berries for dessert. I think I’ve stumbled into some sort of hiker holy grail in terms of hiker magic. They then leave me to my devourings and I attempt to absorb what has just happened. Olivia proceeds to set the table for what would turn out to be a second lunch. 

“If you like, you’d be welcome to use the shower in the guest room”. 

I’m pretty sure my jaw drops as I follow her to their amazing twin bed guest room complete with en-suite. The wifi password is framed and hung on the wall. A kettle sits on a table with a selection of hot drinks to choose from. She slides the doors shut, leaving me to shower. I don’t move momentarily feeling like I’ve stumbled into a dream. Returning to the real world I strip off and scrub down well. A collection of tiny bottles of soaps and shampoos sit ready for my use. They definitely know how to treat guests, never mind hiker trash such as myself. I press the towel to my body savouring the softness and now fresh feeling. Shame the clothes I was putting back on weren’t clean, I hold them up and smell the pit on my shirt to almost gag. Alas, I emerge a new person and help them carry plates out to the table keeping my arms tucked to my sides. A center piece of salmon and pomegranates lays ready for the three of us. Fresh salad lines our plates, my mouth begins to salivate. The fresh greens and pink salmon makes my taste buds tingle with excitement – and I’m not joking. 

We begin our mini feast and dissolve into talk of travel; all of us having been to New Zealand and various parts of Europe. Then we move on to talk about family, life, England, the States, the PCT, the future and pets. Duchess watches me eat, hopefully wishing I’d drop some her way. Unbeknown to me time was slowly creeping on and before I knew it, it’s 2pm. David and Olivia were heading to the gym but they would drop me back on the trail. Olivia emerges from her pantry and quickly tries to load me up with more goodies like apples and biscuits and then comes laden with all her fruit flavoured waters to see which one I’d like to take. I’m extremely overwhelmed and graciously take one. Something I have to learn to get used to on the trial, the generosity of strangers and accepting their gifts. I made a note of address promising myself to send them postcards when I could. We take a few photos and hug before I go, I’m extremely conscious of my sweaty hiker clothes. I wave goodbye vigorously until they disappear and hope to be like them one day.

I still can’t believe my luck and pause under a bridge to collect my thoughts in the shade. It is still insanely hot and I need to somehow assimilate the two bags worth of shopping into my pack. I take out my tent and carry it by hand again. After eating tonight and tomorrow morning I should be able to fit everything back inside. I hike on for a bit before succumbing to the heat and hiding from the sun. I write up my eventful morning in my journal and read my emails.