DAY 40: SAND.

miles: 24

Sandblasted.

Worst night on the trail so far.

Last night, despite falling asleep soundly (so cozy), we were awoken to the horrific sound of 70 mile per hour wind smashing into the side of our tent. We had been very careful to set up our tent with the wind direction in mind, but the wind had shifted 90 degrees in the night and was literally flattening the tent onto my body. I panicked and sat up, insinctively reaching an arm out to stabilize the tent wall. I had managed to knock the trekking pole, that was helping to stabilize the tent, out of place in the night, so that definitely contributed to the collapse, however, when I went to grab the pole, I stabbed it through the tent, creating a neat hole in the mesh.

Fuck.

Ben heard this, and was very displeased and disoriented, having just woke up out of a deep sleep himself. Hurricane force winds. Seriously.

So I open the mesh and release the mountain of sand that was blowing in from the west. Sand is flying at 70mph into the tent, abrading my face, filling my sleeping bag, scouring our belongings. I realize that the sand was flying in even before I unzipped the mesh and it was futile to zip up because the debris was still shovelling in.

Near tears, panick, are we going to be buried alive?

I'm frozen, I have no idea what to do next. The sand is entering the tent at a fast rate, sweeping across our sleeping bags and filling every orifice. I am near tears... do we hike on? We've been asleep for 3 hours... maybe that is enough rest to get us to the Cottonwood Creek Bridge, 12 miles away? Hiking 12 miles in the middle of the night sounded like a luxury compared to what we were experiencing.

We fixed the trekking pole and somewhat re-stabilized the tent, but it was difficult to lay back down, knowing the sand was literally filling our tent.

I get tired enough to doze in and out of sleep, positive I would collapse if I tried walking 12 miles, having down 25 miles the previous day. If we had walked 12 more miles that night, we would have done 37 miles in 24 hours - that is insane. I made a decision to try and wait out the sand storm, while every 15 minutes I would hear, from Ben, "Should we get up? Can we pack up and get the hell out of here?"

It was tempting, and I have to admit, I did sit up multiple times and seriously consider hiking out. But I knew that if the wind was so bad it was collapsing our tent (Ben also had to get up and re-stake the tent in the hurricane force winds - pushing the stakes into the SAND) that it was bad enough to make hiking unejoyable, if not downright IMPOSSIBLE.

Worst. Night. Of. My. Life.

Eventually I fell asleep.

In the morning the tent was filled with an inch of sand, my sleeping bag was dusted with sand sheen... it was so hot in the night that I shed all of my clothing which made the sandy sleeping bag even worse because I woke up feeling like I fell asleep in on the beach - the sand embedded in my leg skin...

SO, morning finally arrives and Ben and I frantically pack up our sandy shit. Starfox, Angela, and Busted slept GREAT and had no issues with the wind blowing sand into their eyes, mouth, and ears. In fact, they had a fantastic night! Sour Cream on the other hand, had not had a very good night... his tent collapsed multiple times AND he was vomiting.

Apparently quite few people had gotten sick the night after hiker town.

Even though S. Cream was sick, everyone broke camp and was out of there well before Ben and I.

Then the butt chafe.

I was not in a good mood for the first half of the day.

This was the first day I questioned what the fuck I was doing out here on the trail, actually. Not in a serious way - I would never get off of the trail voluntarily - but I definitely have never felt so defeated by the elements. Every inch of my had a layer of sand and grit making movement uncomfortable. I had chafe in more places than one (for the first time) and I was simply degraded. I had been feeling insanely lethargic the past few days (for no reason) and just needed a break. A mental break. And it was nowhere in sight.

As Ben and I started walking, my mood boosted slightly, as we listened to Snap Judgement and continued to walk the aqueduct, which is now not only covered, but a cement "road" of sorts. There were alarmingly eerie blood drips the entire duration of the trail this morning. Was it a bleeding animal? A human? Why was it so fresh and shiny?

Starfox on the aqueduct.

We made it to Cottonwood Creek Bridge by 11am and took did some serious napping.

I don't know if I've mentioned the "burning cold" but in the shade it's hypothermia freezing, and in the sun it is burning hot - it's the phenomenon of the desert!

So I tried to nap in the shade but was shivering, periodically grabbing inappropriate things from my pack to place over me as a blanket (like my neo air, my stuff sacks, solar charger....) but then moved to the sun to nap and was scalded. So.....

I didn't take a nap, but took photos of everyone who did.

Hikers under a bridge.

Lunchbox napping.

It was a nice place to relax, under the bridge. Under bridges is a common place for hiker gatherings. No wonder bums gather under bridges, I understand now, seriously.

We hiked on at 3pm (after waiting for the heat of the day to die down) and made it across the rest of the Mojave. We've been walking through wind turbines for a day now, and today was no different. The windmills are insane! The huge-ness of them is astounding!

It started climbing.

And climbing.

And climbing.

Luckily, it wasn't hot because the wind was cool. The wind got stronger and stronger as we went up in elevation. It got to the point where the wind was so strong that we couldn't stand up straight in it. We leaned into it with our trekking poles (used as crutches) and walked in a 90 degree body angle into the wind. It was brutal, to be honest.

Spirits were high, though.

We had planned on doing a 26 mile day in order to set ourselves up for a 9 mile walk into the next town the following morning. Tehachapi was only a few miles away, and we love to get into town early so we can eat breakfast at a diner.

Ended up making it 24 miles, so we had 11 left to hike in the morning, which was probably a good decision. Ben and I (surprisingly) had a fantasticly sheltered spot (safe from wind tonight - thankfully) behind some shrubs, up on a ridge. We cowboy camped there and it was really... a nice night. From my sleeping bag I had a view of the stars, the surrounding wind farms 2,000 feet below in the desert, and a view of the large town of Lancaster, California, glistening in the night. I felt at ease.