17 — Mission Creek, San Bernadino NF

Miles 209.5 (I-10) — 226.2 Mission Creek (16.7 miles)

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Rose: the magical desert oasis that is Whitewater Preserve Thorn: Ankle pain & the uncertainty that comes with it Bud: easy access to water all day tomorrow

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Today was not an easy day emotionally for me. Our Uber drivers picked us up from the motel at 7:45, and we were on the trail by 8:15/8:30.

I kept up with the gang (Semi, Shuffles, Pebbles, and GNOME) for the first hour. It was a fast clip and I was trying my hardest to keep up. But once my Starbucks iced coffee wore off and the heat rose, I fell behind. The heat got to me on the hike up the hill. My body was literally panting, trying to expel excess heat. My shirt was drenched everywhere except maybe my upper belly. Even my hands were sweaty in my sun gloves. When I got to the top, the rest of the gang was airing out their backs and drinking water.

My right ankle was starting to hurt from keeping up with them, so I dropped to the back and put on an audiobook through my headphones. I usually try to limit my audio intake until later in the day, but I needed the mental distraction from my feelings of inadequacy and fear of injury.

We snaked through the desert landscape and into a heavily-used day hiker area. We crossed a river to Whitewater Preserve, a beautiful privately run non profit park. There was a beautiful ranger station/visitor center, housing, ponds, wading pool, sun shelter, picnic tables, restrooms with flush toilets, and potable water. It was a beautiful oasis.

We wasted away the heat of the day by soaking our feet (and my sore ankle) in the cool wading pool (while trying not to get splashed by all the children), snacking under the sun shelter, and napping on the sun-dappled lawn.

I had serious Ranger envy of the facilities. Someone has invested serious money in the buildings and landscaping. It made me miss home and my fellow rangers. I didn’t want to leave. With a potential ankle injury brewing, thoughts of home were unsettling. It was the first time I’ve cried on trail so far. I guess I should be thankful that it didn’t happen until day 17.

As we prepared to return to the desert sun and heat, I told my trail family that I would be going slower, and there was a very strong possibility that I would fall behind their pace. I prepped them for the splitting up of the band. We’ve theorized on the tramily’s longevity for a few days now. Shuffles seems to be hustling along; we figure she’ll be the first to depart, wanting to crush more miles. Lucy has been in and out for the last week due to injury. I will likely fall behind since Semi, Mitch, and Pebbles are so fast.

The trail out of Whitewater Reserve was hot, but it was too windy to use my umbrella. I went slow. My ankle ached a little but was manageable with the brace and a slow pace. Semi, Andy, Jo, and I were close together.

The sunset was so gorgeous. It set behind the mountains and softly illuminated the valleys just as I created a ridge. We had two more hours of twilight, which was just enough to get to camp, set up cowboy camping, and est by headlamp.