Today Aaron and Nisa are driving home, and although the plan was to leave at 10 a.m., they don’t go until 2:30 p.m. We come up with various excuses to prolong their leaving. It’s hard to let him go. We’ve been together for a long time; we’ve spent virtually no time apart. And Nisa has been upset the whole trip. She doesn’t like that I keep disappearing, and I can’t help but feel bad at not being able to see her for a month (Aaron is going to come to Tehachapi). Finally, we have a very teary goodbye, and then suddenly I am alone with myself. It feels so permanent!
I busy myself with preparing for tomorrow. I am going to carry 4 liters of water, so I want to see if I can lighten my pack at all. Since I have had no appetite whilst hiking, slicing my food supply in half seems to be the best way I can cut weight. And I have plenty of body fat, I should be fine with less food all the way to Warner Springs. I also get rid of my bag of “Misc”, flip-flops, nighttime clothes (but keep the nighttime socks), and then slim down on odds and ends, like tampons, etc.
At night I spend my time on my phone: reading and posting blogs, Facebook, Instagram, etc. I text my friend Lauren. “I’m wondering where you are and what it is like for you right now…” she texts.
“I’m alone in a remote Mountain Cabin and feelin’ a little scaredy,” I tell her.
“I’m jelly,” she responds.
It’s true, I feel a little scared. The wind is howling outside. Alone in the cabin somehow feels more tense than alone in a tent in the wilderness. I imagine all kinds of terrifying scenarios, enough so that I become paranoid and decide to sleep on the couch in the kitchen area, so I can hear if anyone tries to come through the door. Just in case. And I set up the In Reach so that it is within reach, ready to hit that S.O.S. button. Just in case. And I decide to sleep with my knife. Just in case. And I know I’m being silly, but I think I’ll leave a light on. Just in case.