Stepping out of my tent on the second morning, I immediately noticed the absence of a morning chill. You could feel it: we were in for a hot day.
We were somewhat secluded from the elements in our hideaway campsite, but we knew the temperatures would only rise as the day went on. We swapped each other for favorite Clif bars instead of cooking a real breakfast, and headed out.
Today, the mountains offered no protection. Instead, we found ourselves making our miles on long stretches of drought-stricken dusty fields. I found myself almost wishing for the slow-going cool of the rock beaches… almost.
We made it to our last site just after lunchtime. Immediately after setting up camp, we all drifted out to patches of shade in an attempt to nap.
I tucked in to a patch under a fallen log, waking only when the sun had moved sufficiently to shift the shadow. Sleep. Arm is warm… wake. Move. Sleep. Arm is warm again… wake. Move. Sleep.
It was a little bittersweet to watch the sun set on our final day, knowing that the next morning would see us walking back to real life. There’s a sense of freedom and camaraderie that we had discovered on the trail, and I knew it I would miss it.
In all honestly, finishing the trail was oddly anticlimactic. We stood above the horizon, waiting for our shuttle, paused. I wish there had been more. We could have walked for miles.
For the last installment of my Lost Coast adventure (Part 2), click here.
To go back to the beginning of the Lost Coast trip (Part 1), click here.