Kevin drove all the way from Chicago to San Diego to give me a ride to Golden, CO where I would be flying out to Ghana, Africa in a few days for my bike-packing trip with Ford! He took me out for breakfast then we started cruising towards Joshua Tree, passing through all of the scenic trail towns that the PCT went through.
We stopped in my favorite town of all time—Idyllwild. It had the same energy from when I was last there. The ice cream guy who was so dear to me no longer owned the place but he was still in town so I was happy to hear that. I went to the gear store to buy a chalk bag and asked Spirit which one I should choose. I grabbed one that caught my eye. When I put my hand inside of it, I found an acorn and started laughing.
I showed the store clerk to which he rolled his eyes and said, “Fucking squirrels.” Apparently they also stored them in shoes for the winter time. “I have no idea how they get in here.”
Before we left town, I revisited my favorite lodging place: Idyllwild Inn. I had stayed there with my boyfriend back in the day, in the ‘Winter’ room where we had our very own fireplace. I asked the owner if we could check out the room for old times sake. He gave us the key, giving me the honor of reminiscing on happy days.
Then, we asked locals if there were any good bouldering spots. We found one about half a mile away. There, we went exploring on faint trails that led us to rock faces, eventually finding one that I felt inspired to attempt.
I didn’t make it the first few tries but then remembered to slow down, feel around and look for a route. I looked down at my fingertips to find the skin starting to rip from the roughness of the crystals. Eventually, I made it up smoothly but when I tried again a few more times it seemed as if I took an entirely different route that required much more effort.
Bright red blood began soaking through the thick white chalk and running down my fingertips. I studied the boulder with determination in my eyes.
“I’ll try again.”
“I’ve never seen you like this,” Kevin said.
I don’t know what came over me, either. I had a drive I didn’t even know I had. Although tired and feeling the raw burning sensation from my open wounded fingers, I gave it one more go. I pressed myself into the rock, pushing off onto my feet and eventually using my forearm as pressure to lift myself up to the top.
“I think we should go hiking somewhere, instead,” I said as I looked at the blood on different parts of my body. “I want to keep climbing but I don’t think it’s smart right now.”
So we drove up a less traveled road headed towards Escalante. We stopped to pick sugar and coulter pinecones along the way so Kevin could bring them home for my mom. Afterwards, we drove to vista points and trails that hosted reflective gold lakes and cattails. Meadows were covered in crunching leaves, scenery that looked similar to Tennessee with an eclectic vibe of Oregon. We took silly photoshoots by the sunset and laughed to the near edge of pissing ourselves when we gave a pinecone its own personal photoshoot.
Then we went to a dive bar in a small town where we ate some chicken wings and enjoyed looking at acrylic art paintings of Joshua Trees in the auburn orange desert. We took some silly pictures in the photo booth where I flashed my tits, then we cruised down the highway until we found a run down motel. It felt good to laugh again and be around someone who I could share in the simple joy of life with.
