His arms let me go, and in the next blink of an eye, he held out a ball of dark blue. “Take my jacket with you. It’s wind and waterproof. It’s lighter than yours, and it’ll be easier to pack.” He gestured for me to take it. “Take your sun protective pants too. There’s a lot of brush on the trail the way you’re taking today. You’ve got trekking poles?”
Something inside of me eased, and I nodded at him.
His gray eyes were steady and somber on me. “Call me when you get there and when you finish.” He paused, thinking about his words before adding, “Please.”
* * *
I had just parked at the trailhead when my phone happened to ring. It was honestly a miracle that I even got service in the first place, but as I’d learned over the last few months of living in the mountains, sometimes you randomly hit a sweet spot in the perfect place if the elevation was just right. Maybe it helped that I’d switched my cell provider to the same one as Yuki. And based on the altitude my watch was registering, I was way up there.
Rhodes had warned me about just how sketchy the drive up was since I was going to try to hike to the lake from a different starting point, but I should’ve known he didn’t blow things out of proportion or exaggerate. The road had been s-k-e-t-c-h-y. I’d been gripping the steering wheel for dear life for part of the route, the road was so rutted and littered with sharp rocks. I’d told myself to ask him when was the last time he’d been up because, even though I figured he trusted my driving skills enough to send me this way instead of the route I’d gone the last time, my gut said Mr. Overprotective would have been pushier about me not driving up alone if he’d known it was this level of shitty.
That or he really believed in me.
I’d only regretted being stubborn about doing this every thirty seconds.
I had a bad feeling in my stomach when my phone rang and “CLARA CALLING” flashed across the screen.
According to the text she’d sent me as I was leaving Rhodes’s, she had been about to leave her house. She should’ve been somewhere close by, behind me, if not already here. And I knew that wasn’t the case because there were two vehicles in the clearing that doubled as parking for the start of the hike, and neither of them were hers.
“Hey,” I greeted, leaning my head back against the headrest and sensing the unease pool in my stomach again.
“Aurora,” Clara answered. “Where are you?”
“I’m at the trailhead,” I confirmed, eyeing the very blue skies. “Where you at?”
She cursed.
“What happened?”
“I’ve been trying to call you, but it wasn’t going through. My car won’t start. I called my brother, but he’s still not here yet.” She cursed again. “You know what? Let me call the tow truck service and—”
I didn’t want her to spend money on a tow truck service. She’d been stressing enough about money when she thought I wasn’t looking or paying attention, but at-home care for her dad ate up a massive chunk of the store’s earnings.
Plus, we both also knew this was my last chance to do this hike this year, more than likely. October was knocking on the door. The drought had kept the summer warm and the start of fall warmer than normal, but Mother Nature was getting bored. The temperatures were going to start dropping soon and snow was going to start being a real thing in higher elevations. If I didn’t do it now, it’d be eight months before I could even think about doing this again. Maybe next week would still be fine, but it was a hard maybe.
“No, don’t do that,” I told her, trying to figure out what to say. “Wait for your brother. The drive here was rough anyway.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, the washboard”—that was crazy horizontal ruts that resembled a washboard on the road—“is unreal.” I paused and tried to think; it would easily be three hours before she got here, if she was even able to. By that point, it’d be late morning and we’d be cutting it too close to dark. And that damn drive back….
I wasn’t scared to do the hike alone. I worried more about other people than I did encountering animals. Plus, I was more prepared this time. I could handle it.
“I’m sorry. Damn it. I can’t believe this happened.”
“It’s okay. Don’t worry about it. I hope your brother gets there soon and it’s not anything serious.”
“Me too.” She paused and said something away from the phone before coming back. “I’ll do it with you next week.”
I knew what I was going to do. I had to. This was why I’d come.
I had to do it for Mom. And for me. To know I could.
It was just a hike—a hard one, sure, but plenty of people did difficult ones. I wasn’t camping. And there were two cars parked here.
“It’s okay. I know you were just going to do it to keep me company, and I’m already here.”
I heard the caution in her tone. “Aurora—”
“The weather is good. The drive was shit. I’m early enough to knock this out in about seven hours. There are two cars here. I’m in peak condition to get this shit done. I might as well get it over with, Clara. I’ll be okay.”
“It’s a difficult hike.”
“And you told me that you have a friend that runs it by himself,” I reminded her. “I’ll be fine. I’ll be out of here while I still have hours of sunshine left. I got this.”
There was a pause. “Are you sure? I’m sorry. I feel bad I’m always bailing on you.”
“Don’t feel bad. It’s okay. You’ve got a life and so many responsibilities, Clara. I get it, I swear. And I’ve done other ones by myself. Start doing some jumping jacks or something so we can do an eleven-mile one-way hike next year.”
“Eleven miles one way?” She made a sound that sounded almost like a laugh but mostly like she thought I was fucking nuts.
“Yeah, suck it up. I can do this. You know where I’m at; I’ll be fine. I’m not doing what my mom did and doing a different hike without telling anyone. I’ll leave my phone on; the battery is fully charged. I’ve got my whistle and my pepper spray. I’m good.”
Clara made another hesitating sound. “You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
She sighed deeply, still hesitating.
“Don’t feel bad. But also don’t laugh at me if I can’t walk tomorrow, deal?”
“I wouldn’t laugh at you….”
I knew she wouldn’t. “I’ll text you if I get service and when I’m done, all right?”
“Will you tell Rhodes too?”
That made me smile. “He already knows.”
“All right then. I’m sorry, Aurora. I promise I didn’t know this was going to happen.”
“Stop apologizing. It’s okay.”
She groaned. “Okay. I’m sorry. I feel like a piece of shit.”
I paused. “You should.” We both laughed. “I’m kidding! Let me call him real quick and then get started.”
She wished me good luck, and we hung up right after that. I waited a second and then called Rhodes. It rang and rang, and after a moment, his voice mail picked up.
I left him a quick message. “Hi. I’m at the trailhead. Clara’s having car trouble and won’t be able to make it for at least another three hours, so I’m going to do the hike alone after all. There are two cars parked in the lot. Their license plates are…” I peeked at them and rolled off the letters and numbers. “The skies are bright blue. The road was really sketchy, but I got it done. I’m going to do this as fast as I can but still try and pace myself because I know the way out might kill me. I’ll see you later. Have a good day at work and good luck with those poaching assholes. Bye!”
I started the hike with a smile on my face even though my soul felt a little heavier than normal, but not for bad reasons. Missing my mom made me sad, but that wasn’t a bad thing. I just hoped she knew I still missed her and thought of her.
I put my phone on airplane mode so it wouldn’t start roaming and drain the battery in no time. I’d learned that shit the hard wa
y months ago. I could check it again once I got started going up.
Despite the cool temperature, the sun was bright and beautiful, the sky the bluest thing I’d ever seen. I couldn’t have asked for a better day to do this, I knew. Maybe Mom had worked it out to cheer me up.
That thought lifted me up even higher.
Despite losing my breath after the first fifteen minutes and having to stop a lot more often than I would have wanted, I kept going. I took my time, had to peel my jacket off after a little bit, and kept an eye on my watch but tried not to stress about all my stops. The entire back of my shirt ended up soaked with sweat where the backpack rested, and that too was no big deal. I checked my phone every other pit stop and didn’t find service. I just kept on going. One step in front of another, enjoying the incredible scent of the wilderness because that’s exactly what this was.
I was in the middle of millions of acres of national forest all by myself, and as much as I would have enjoyed company, on today of all days, doing this gave me chills.
I imagined my mom taking this very same trail thirty-something years ago, and it made me smile. Her notes didn’t specify which way she’d started the hike—there were two ways to get to the lake, one of which was the path I was on now and the other was the one I’d taken last time—but regardless, she was here. These trees had given her some sort of peace, I’d like to think.
I was pretty sure she’d done it by herself too, and that made me smile wider. It’d be even better to have Clara here… even better to have Rhodes with me or Am, but maybe it was meant to be for me to tackle this alone. To do this one last trip by myself like I’d started. I had wanted this move to Colorado to be me reconnecting with my mom, and nothing could have prepared me for the changes I’d made in the months since. They had made me stronger. Better.
Happier.
Sure, I’d still scream if a bat snuck back into the house or if I saw another mouse, but I knew I’d be able to figure out a solution if it happened. Maybe you didn’t have to get over your fears completely to conquer them. Maybe if you just faced them in general that counted. Or at least that’s what I wanted to believe.
And maybe… this was my goodbye to at least part of the past. Closing all the opened chapters that hadn’t been completed. I had so much going for me. So much joy just waiting around. Like with the end of my relationship, I had so much I was leaving behind to start over with all these new possibilities. I had people who cared about me again, who worried for me, and they didn’t care about who I knew or how much money I had or what I could do for them.
So maybe it could be like I’d thought before. You could start over any day of the week, at any time of the year, at any point in your life, and it was fine.
And I kept that thought in my head as I kept climbing, another hour after hour went by; my calves cramped, and I stopped briefly again to take some magnesium capsules I’d brought along. For all I tried to jump rope, my thighs burned like a son of a bitch too, and I was going through my water faster than I’d expected, but I’d planned for that too and could refill at a stream or the lake, even though the water would taste like butthole. I didn’t want to get altitude sickness more than I disliked the taste of filtered water, so tough shit.
The scenery changed and changed, and I marveled at the beauty and greenery around. And maybe it was because I was too busy admiring everything and thinking that life was going to be okay that I didn’t notice the sky. Didn’t see the dark clouds that had started rolling in until a flash of lightning and a boom of thunder cracked across what had been clear skies, scaring the shit out of me.
I literally yelped and ran toward the closest collection of trees, crouching down a second before the rain started. Luckily, Clara had warned me to take a tarp with me on long hikes, and I covered myself with it, pulling Rhodes’s rain jacket on too for extra protection. I was still sitting there when hail started pelting everything.
But I stayed optimistic. I knew this was just part of it. I’d gotten hailed on once or twice before. It never lasted long, and this time was no exception.
I started again, kept pushing, getting tired, but no big deal. It didn’t rain long enough for it to be muddy, but simply damp.
I crossed a sketchy section and the ridge that had tried to assassinate me last time, that I pretty much had to scramble over, and that’s when I knew I didn’t have much further left. I was almost there. An hour maximum. I checked my phone, saw I had service, and sent out a couple of texts.
The first was to Rhodes.
Me: Made it to the ridge. Everything is good. I’ll text you on the way back.
Then I sent one to Clara that was basically the same.
That’s when an incoming message came through from Amos.
Amos: Did you go do the hike by yourself?
Me: Yessss. I made it to the ridge. Everything is good.
I didn’t even get a chance to put my phone on airplane mode again when another message came through from him.
Amos: Are you nuts?
Well, I guess I might as well sit here another minute. I could use the break. So I texted him back, propped my butt on the nearest rock, and figured five more minutes wouldn’t kill me.
Me: Not yet
Amos: I could’ve gone with you
Me: Do you remember how miserable you were when we did four miles?
I took out a precious granola bar and ate half in a bite, peeking at the skies. Where the hell had these clouds come from? I knew they rolled in uncalled for, but….
Another message came through while I was chewing.
Amos: You’re not supposed to do it by yourself!!!
He was using exclamation marks.
He loved me.
Amos: Does dad know????
Me: He knows. I called him, but he didn’t answer. I promise I’m okay.
I finished off the rest of my bar in another bite, slipped the wrapper into a grocery store bag I was using for trash, and when I hadn’t gotten a response from Amos again or Clara, or anyone, I got up—my lower body crying in frustration from how tired it already was—and kept on going.
The next hour fucking sucked ass. I thought I was fit, thought I could handle this shit.
But I was exhausted.
Just thinking about the hike back made my enthusiasm disappear.
But I was doing this for Mom, and I was here and fuck if I wasn’t going to finish this. This lake better be the greatest thing I’d ever seen.
I kept going and going.
At one point, I caught a flicker of what I figured had to be the lake in the distance, shiny and mirrorlike.
But with each step I took, the clouds got darker and darker.
It started pouring again, and I took out my wet tarp and hunkered under a tree with it.
But this time, it didn’t clear up after five minutes.
Or ten.
Twenty or thirty.
It poured. Then it hailed. Then it poured some more.
Thunder shook the trees, my teeth, and my soul. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and checked to see if I had service. I didn’t. I ate most of the snacks I’d planned on treating myself to when I got to the lake to save time. I was going to have to get there and pretty much turn around and start heading back.
The rain finally turned into a sprinkle after nearly an hour, and the quarter mile I had left felt like ten.
Especially when the bullshit lake was the most underwhelming thing I’d ever seen.
I mean, it was nice, but it wasn’t… it wasn’t what I’d expected. It didn’t glow. It wasn’t crystal blue. It was just… a regular lake.
I started laughing; then I started laughing like an idiot, tears bubbling up in my eyes as I cracked up some more.
“Oh, Mom, now I get what the wave was for.” So-so. It was for so-so. It had to be.
I’d expected to find some people around, but there was nobody. Had they kept on hiking? The Continental Divide was miles out, branching off from a different trail at
tached to this one.
I laughed even more, again.
Then I sat down on a wet log, toed my boots off as I ate my apple, enjoying the crunch and the sweetness. My fucking treat. Whipping my phone out, I took a selfie with the dumbass lake and laughed again.
Never again.
I took my socks off and wiggled my toes, keeping my ears open for animals and people, but there was nothing.
Ten minutes later, I got up, put my socks and shoes back on, zipped my jacket because the rain had seriously cooled everything down and the sun wasn’t out, and started the damn hike back.
Everything hurt. It felt like every one of my leg muscles was shredded. My calves were on the verge of dying. My toes were never going to forgive or forget this.
I’d lost my momentum having to stop for the rain, and another glance at my watch told me I’d lost two hours because of the weather and my breaks. What had seemed hard on the way to the lake was about a hundred times harder on the way back.
Fuck, shit, fucking shit, motherfucking fucker all came out of my mouth. How the hell anybody ran this was beyond me. I stopped what felt like every ten minutes, I was so tired, but still, I kept on going.
Two hours later, not knowing how I was going to survive the next three hours and eyeballing the damn clouds that were back again, I pulled out my phone and waited, hoping for service.
There wasn’t any.
I had to try to send a few messages out.
The first was to Rhodes.
Me: Running late. I’m okay. Heading back.
Then I sent Clara another with basically the same message.
And finally Amos got my third one.
Me: On my way back. I’m good. The weather turned bad.
I left my signal on, hoping it would eventually reconnect with a tower. The battery was at 80 percent, so I figured it would be good enough. I hoped.
The ground was slippery, the gravel dangerous under my boots, and that slowed me down even more. There was no one around. I couldn’t risk hurting myself.
All Rhodes Lead Here Page 33