A miserable 135-mile march through the Southern California desert ends with a gluttonously glorious meal in town with old friends.
I sat at the picnic table on the deck of the Kennedy Meadows South General Store assessing what food I needed to pick up from the store for the next section of trail. Kennedy Meadows South is the official boundary of the Southern California desert and the Sierra Nevada mountain range, and is an iconic resupply point for PCT hikers. I had just spent a month hiking through the Sierra Nevada – which was one of the best month’s of my life, and now I was saying goodbye to friends who were finishing their hike at Kennedy Meadows South to return home. All those factors combined had me in a very sad mood, and after taking stock of what provisions I had left over from the last section of the trail, I was about to be in an even worse mood.
I was planning to hike 135 miles in five days so that I could get to Tehachapi, California before the following the weekend. I had plans to take a few days off trail to visit some friends in San Jose which was the reason for my insane hiking plan. Fortunately I had packed well the week before to get to Kennedy Meadows South because I had barely any food left when I went into the store to resupply. Walking into the old wooden general store, however, was a rude awakening. Being one of the last hikers of the season, the store was out of almost everything. I spent 45 minutes circling the small interior of the store making sure I had checked every shelf and asked every question I could think of before scrounging what I felt like was enough food to get me through the next five days.
With my food finally situated and my bag finally packed, it was time to keep heading south to Mexico.
After a mile in the desert, I was already over it.
The Sierra Nevada had been the pinnacle of the trail for me. The jagged granite peaks, the pine covered valleys, and the crystal clear rivers, were some of the most beautiful things I had ever seen. Now, I was walking through dried out valleys filled with sharp bushes and surrounded by barren mountains. I had also been hiking with many of the best friends I had made on the trail who were now on their way home. It was just me and my friend, Valentine, making our way through the desert.
I was also at much lower elevation than I had been in several weeks, and that fact combined with now being in the desert meant it was getting hot. The only good thing about this new section of trail was that the trail itself was much more gradual on climbs and descents and rock free. With my trail legs having hiked 1800 miles at this point, I could cruise through this section.
Valentine and I only hiked the day out Kennedy Meadows South together, and then he got further ahead of me. So, day by day, I’d walk alone all day and into the evening just to make camp well after the sun had set. I would run into people here and there, but never got to interact much with anyone.
There were several sections where water was scarce so I had to rely on water caches – water supplied by volunteers at trail heads – to top of my water supply. One stretch of waterless area was 50 miles long with two water caches to top of my water in that 50-mile corridor. With the heat and long days on my feet, I never wanted to carry more water than I absolutely needed. I would drink as much water as I could at a cache, fill two liters worth of water to carry, and hope to God that the next water cache had plenty of water.
I was also doing longer days back to back than I had ever done before. For reference, I typically hiked 17-20 miles a day normally on the PCT. However, this day stretch had me walking over 25 miles a day. I actually had two 34 mile days back to back. That’s a lot of miles to cover with a backpack in the heat up and over mountain after mountain even with 1800 miles under my belt by that point.
I was getting tired, lonely, and, above all, hungry with each passing day. I was constantly swarmed by gnats, and the dirt I was kicking up from the trail was caking on my legs as it mixed with my sweat. To top it all off, I was hearing reports of other hikers getting stalked by mountain lions.
From day one on the PCT, I was high on life. The trail was absolutely beautiful, and I was having a blast.
But this section… this section could kick rocks. I was done.
By the end of the week, every step took every ounce of will power I had. All I could think about was a bed, a shower, and a meal waiting for me in town. My mouth watered just thinking about real town food and a soda.
A soda.
Ahhh, I couldn’t wait for a sugary, bubbly cold soda to touch the tip of my tongue after drinking warm, stagnant water all week.
I was getting so tired of granola bars, candy, and beef jerky. Even my backpacker meals, which I love, were not cutting it for me. I wanted something substantial. Something I could put my hands on and watch the grease run down my fingers as I stuffed whatever it was in my mouth. I felt like I was going crazy thinking about food in such detail, but being that hungry was only making those thoughts more intense.
I don’t know why, but something about the desert had me craving Taco Bell. All I could think about was smashing a chalupa supreme with a couple of Doritos Loco’s tacos with a Baja Blast and cinnamon twists. On the night before my last 23 miles to town, all I had were two backpacker meals and a couple of snacks to hold me over for the next stretch. All I could think about was Taco Bell as I laid there trying to fall asleep. My finally thought before my eyes shut for the night was that Taco Bell would be the first place I’d go once I got to town.
I woke up early the next morning, got my stuff packed as quick as I could, and headed down the trail. I couldn’t wait to get to town! I was ready to be out of this forsaken desert. I looked like a wreck. I felt emaciated after being on a significant calorie deficit that week. I had dirt caked to my legs and all over my arms and face. My clothes were covered in white sweat stains, and the logo on my hat was unrecognizable.
By mid afternoon, I had finally made it to the highway. I was in such an excitement to get to the road, I was basically running to the trailhead so I could start hitching into town.
I finally reached the trailhead and disappointment hit. The road wasn’t a nice little rural highway. It was a major state freeway that bustled with cars and semi’s flying between desert towns. The trailhead itself was at the top of an overpass that was scarcely being used by any of the travels below on the freeway. As the trail often does, it provided an alternative to my hitching dilemma.
I looked over and saw a trail register near the place where the trail popped out to where I was standing. Trail registers are small metal boxes attached to poles and typically used for things like search and rescue or sending notes to other hikers through the log that is maintained by national forest officials or local trail clubs. They also are helpful because some times they have information about trail angels or other services in town that you can benefit from. Opening the box, luck had saved me again. There was a laminated sheet of paper sitting on top of the trail log with names of number of trail angels to contact in case I needed a ride. So took the list, sat in the dirt, and started calling until someone answered.
“Hey, this is Mike,” came the voice over the phone.
Thank God someone answered, I thought victoriously.
“Hey Mike, this is Ralston. I’m hiking the PCT, and I found your number at the trailhead just outside of Tehachapi. You wouldn’t happen to have time to come pick me up soon would you?” I asked trying to sound as nice and charming as I possibly could.
“I don’t mind at all,” came his gracious reply. “But I can’t right this second, I’ve got some things to do. It could be another 30 minutes to an hour before I get up there. Is that ok?”
My stomach growled.
“For sure! I’ll be here whenever you get here. Thank you so much,” I said both deeply grateful but so ready to be in town.
Over an hour later, Mike rolled into the parking lot. Being the nice guy he is, he was giving me text updates saying it was taking longer than he thought to get his things done. By that point, I didn’t even care. I was just grateful to be in a car on my way to get something to eat.
“Sorry about that. Hop in. Where do you need to go first?” he asked kindly.
“Taco Bell! I’m starving,” I replied immediately.
“You sure you don’t want to go get a shower first,” he replied laughing.
“That can wait. I’m so hungry,” I said ready to get on the road.
It didn’t take long to roll into town. We chatted about the PCT and got to know each other a little bit. He was a really nice guy, and I was extremely grateful for him helping me out. He dropped me off at the Taco Bell and wished me well as we said our goodbyes.
My body was shaking with anticipation for this meal. I went to the counter and ordered the meal I had been craving. She gave me my drink cup, which I filled with Baja Blast and drank an entire cup of before refilling and going to find a seat. Two minutes later, I had the meal I had been dreaming about sitting in front of me. I ripped the paper off as fast as I could and shoved as much in mouth as I could. It was heavenly. The melted cheese and the warm ground beef combined with all the other flavors were the best things I had ever tasted.
Then, like I already said the trail does, magic kept happening. A notification popped up on my phone. It was a text message from my friend Peach who I hadn’t hiked with since my first week on the PCT. She and her husband Papa were actually friends of mine before the trail started. I actually credit them for why I got into thru-hiking to begin with.
Hey are you in Tehachapi??? The text read.
I knew there was a chance this might happen, but I was shocked that it all lined up the way it did.
Yes, I just got to town and I’m at Taco Bell. Please tell me you guys are in town too! I replied, eager to see them.
Come to find out, they had been in town since the night before and were going to a pizza place for dinner about a mile from the Taco Bell. I scarfed down everything I had left to eat, filled my Baja Blast for the road, and walked the mile to meet up with them for pizza.
It was a wonderful reunion. I hadn’t seen them for months, and I couldn’t wait to hear about all the adventures they had since our early days in Washington. First things first though, we had to order pizza.
“Hello sir, what would you like?” said the girl behind the register.
“I’ll take a large supreme pizza,” I said.
“Will that just be for you?” She asked.
“Of course,” I said.
“Ok. Anything to drink?” She asked.
“Yeah I’ll do that lager you guys have on tap,” I replied inquiring about one of the local beers they had.
“Sounds good. Would you like that in a 16 or 21 ounce glass?” She asked.
“I’ll do a pitcher,” I replied.
“Will you need other glasses for sharing?” She asked.
“Nope. Just one glass for me. Thanks,” I replied.
She grabbed a pitcher, filled it to the brim, handed me a glass, and I was on my way to my table. Even after all the Taco Bell, I was still so hungry. I must’ve really not packed enough food, I thought.
Eventually my pizza came, and as I sat there eating bite after bite and take drink after drink, Papa, Peach, and I had the best time catching up. They had quite the adventure it seemed. They had gone off the beaten path several times, and ended up with the wildest stories of meeting crazy locals or spending a weekend with some of the most wholesome people. They had made a tramily of their own and loved the people they were hiking with. Like me, however, many of their tramily members also had returned home after the Sierra.
I was so glad to see them after so long a part. I hated that I had gotten ahead of them, but was glad that the trail had brought us together again.
“When are you guys going to head south?” I asked.
“Probably in a couple of days,” said Papa. “We’re waiting on some other friends right now too. Do you want to hike out with us?”
“I’d love to! That’s why I was asking. Maybe we can finish the trail together since we started it together. Plus, I’d just like some company. The last few days through the desert were brutal by myself,” I replied. “I’m taking a few days to go visit some friends in San Jose. I’ll try to catch up with you guys if you decide to hike out before I get back.”
“Deal. We’re pumped to be hiking with you again,” they both agreed.
And so it went. Just like we talked about, I went to visit my friends and then caught up with them once I got back. And off we went having adventure after adventure through the desert until the end of the trail.
What started out as series of sad goodbyes and brutal desert conditions, ended in the best reunion imaginable. After filling my stomach full of much needed food and reuniting with great friends, I was ready to take on the desert again.
Sometimes solutions to life’s problems are complicated, but more often than not, they’re pretty simple: eat some food and find your people. That’ll usually do the trick.
– Ralston Drake
Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed it as much as I loved experiencing it and sharing it. Be sure to subscribe for free below to be sure you get a notification whenever I post a new article. Thank you again! I hope your next adventure is one to write about some day too!
Wandering with Ralston 
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