April 18 - Day 1 -- Campo to Hauser Creek

When I awoke at 5 am, Frodo was already in the kitchen baking us pumpkin muffins and cooking eggs. Jan arrived shortly thereafter with steel-cut oatmeal. We filled our bellies and piled into two SUV's. There were 11 of us leaving for the trail head. I was very, very nervous. Did I say I was nervous? Nay, I was terrified. The whole hour and change out to the trail head, I was thinking, "Oh shit, what have I gotten myself into?" The terrain is so foreign to me. Mountains and rocks and desert stuff. We steadily climbed to 3000 feet. I wondered how I was going to do this -- any of this. I have been planning this trip for over ten years, and now here I was. But it's one thing to sit in your living room and plan to do something. It's entirely different to experience something first-hand. No matter how much one has planned, it's never quite what you expect.

We piled out of the car at the trail head, which is a few feet from the US/Mexican border. It is in a very remote part of the state. The nearest "town," Campo, is barely that. We would soon walk by it, but not stop. We had all we thought we would need.

As soon as I shouldered my pack, I knew I was in trouble. Serious trouble. My pack was now loaded with food and water, and it was entirely too heavy to carry comfortably for any distance at all. The trail is not a wide, flat, level path. It is, in fact, rather narrow, rocky at times, or washed out, or overgrown with brush. And it undulates. At times, it is barely 12 inches wide with a sheer drop on one side. One slip and down the mountain side you go with only the boulders to stop your slide.

It got warm quickly. I was wearing long pants and a long sleeve shirt to block the sun, which will burn me to a crisp if I'm not careful. I began sweating like a . . . girl in the desert wearing long pants and a long-sleeve shirt. I had four liters of water and began to consume it with a vengeance. I would, over the course of the day, consume around 8 liters, filtering half from a stream.

The group I started with soon left me behind, and I walked alone most of the day. I would occasionally run into one or two of them when they took a break, but by the time I caught up to them, they were ready to take off again, so I took breaks alone, as well. By mile 10, I was pretty discouraged. Everything hurt -- badly. I had already plastered my feet with duct tape to forestall oncoming blisters. Fortunately, I had Jan's phone number (one of my hosts in SD), so I called her from the trail (yes, I had cell service!). She hooked me up with Lon and Deb, who are experienced hikers and who were camping at Lake Morena campground at mile 20.5 from the border. I hoped they would be able to help me minimize the weight in my pack and help me sort out my emotions. I just had to make it to them.

Somehow, I managed to make it to Hauser Creek at mile 16. I left the border at 7:50 am. I made it to Hauser Creek around 6 pm. I had been hiking all day. I was absolutely wasted. And rain was moving in. I managed to suck down a bagel and get my tent set up before dark. Not long after, the rain began. It wasn't much, just enough to be a nuisance really, but wet is wet. I was glad to be in a tent, but my body had payed the price for carrying it all day. I took 3 ibuprofen and called it a day. I soon discovered my air mattress had a hole in it, and my sore hips soon found the ground. I would not sleep well because of it.

In fact, I laid there most of the night wondering what I was going to do. I absolutely could not continue hiking with my pack as heavy as it was. If Lon and Deb couldn't help me, then I was contemplating bailing on the whole trip. I was also having a hard time hiking alone. There were quite a few people camping at Hauser Creek, but most were couples, and I was alone. I was overwhelmed to the extreme. I didn't know how I was going to manage this trip. I laid there thinking that I could go back to SD, rent a car, and tour all the fabulous state and national parks in California, Arizona, and southern Utah -- places I've never been, but have always wanted to go. It was a tempting thought as I drifted off to sleep.