Kennedy Meadows North to South Lake Tahoe

This section may be hard to read, and trust me, it was very hard to write. I debated for a while on what to include, if anything, for this post. I decided that omitting the negative experiences would make this section feel hollow, so I’ve included them how they (mostly) happened. I’ve changed names and details to protect someone who maybe doesn’t deserve to be protected.

When I was in college I worked at a Target off campus as a cashier. I typically worked closing shifts from 3:30 pm -12:15 am, and would walk home every night after work. For months I walked without fear. One slow evening I repeatedly caught a man staring at me. I’d see him every hour or so as I performed my work duties and walked to and from the break room. I thought it was a little odd for someone to be there that long, but stranger things had happened in the store. I was allowed to clock out just before closing at midnight to get my own shopping done. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see him following me. He followed me through the check out line and through the front door as I started my walk home. He stopped me to declare that we were soulmates, and he begged me to go with him as he grabbed my hand and pulled me towards his car. Fortunately, a security guard had seen him following me and had followed us outside. He told him to get lost and the man sped off. Word of the incident spread, and from that point on a coworker would offer to drive me home every night.

The incident left me shaken, but I actually congratulated myself on making it through. I felt what was almost relief, as if I’d met some sort of female traumatic experience quota, and I’d be spared from similar experiences in the future. I was soon able to walk alone at night without fear. I didn’t give much thought to what could have happened, or what I might have done in that situation if a security guard hadn’t stepped in.

June 25th – Day 74

I headed towards Sonora Pass the morning after the hailstorm. I’d thought that Pez and Baby Bigfoot had camped five miles ahead of me at the campsite on the ridge, but I was happy to hear from Peeps that they’d only camped a half mile or so ahead of me. I was glad they were not high up during the storm and thought I might be able to catch them. As I headed up over the ridge I leapfrogged a hiker I’d never met before. He told me I had a good pace as I passed him. My first impression of him was that he seemed friendly, and handsome.

I stopped to take a snack break on the ridge. The hiker I’d never met passed me again and stopped to take a break. He made a suggestive comment about my body. It made me slightly uncomfortable, but it wasn’t the first time that had happened, so I brushed it off and moved the conversation to other topics. My first impression was that he was quite handsome, and seemed friendly. We’ll call him Joe. Joe asked if we could hike together, and I agreed. We only had about 8 miles to Sonora Pass, and it would have been rude to say no.

The views of the ridge were stunning and Joe and I chatted as we walked along the ridge. A few storm clouds gathered, but it didn’t seem like it would storm as it had the day before. The more we hiked, the more I realized that Joe seemed a little overly friendly, and I decided I kind of wanted to avoid him. Despite knowing each other’s trail names, Joe insisted we call each other by our real names, which felt weirdly intimate. I tried to slow down to see if he wanted to go ahead, but he stopped with me and insisted that I hike ahead to set the pace. I resigned myself to finishing the morning with my new hiking partner and continued on. The conversation got a little weird. It was clear that Joe was antivax and a covid denier. By the time I got to Sonora Pass, I was ready to rejoin Pez and Baby Bigfoot.

I was heading towards Kennedy Meadows North, a complex of campgrounds, rental cabins, a general store, a pack station, and a restaurant that was a popular stop for PCT hikers and vacationers alike. The complex runs a shuttle to and from the trailhead at 10 am and 3 pm everyday, but it was only 1 and I was antsy to get there, so I stuck out my thumb to try and hitch hike. A group of motorcyclists stopped at the trailhead were so amused that I was trying to hitch hike. They asked if I thought I’d actually get a ride. Just as I finished telling them that my longest hitch had taken only 15 minutes a car stopped to give me a ride. A few other hikers piled in and we zoomed the 10 miles to the trailhead. Despite assuring me that he knew the road well because he helped pave it, our driver nearly crashed head on into another car twice, the tires squealing as he jerked the wheel to avoid them, and it was a scary ride. Finally we arrived and I found Pez, Wiggles, and Baby Bigfoot.

It was a Friday afternoon and Kennedy Meadows North was an absolute madhouse. The place was packed. Typically they offer a “PCT special” which includes a bed in the bunkhouse, however the bunkhouse was full, so instead they offered us a reduced rate to camp in a tiny “PCT only” area on the property. We accepted because we didn’t have much of a choice, but I felt very unsettled and stressed by the chaos as I worked to get my laundry, shower, and resupply in. The pack station had wifi, but there were so many people that it was completely non-functional. I’d hoped to be able to video call with my family at the annual family reunion, but I couldn’t even get a message out. Later in the evening, Joe found me and offered to buy me dinner, but I turned him down because a man with a cabin rental was hosting a cookout for PCT hikers.

As I got ready for bed Joe offered me a tent stake after he’d overhead that I was down one. I was grateful and felt bad about trying to avoid him earlier in the day. As the sun set nearby campers blasted music and partied into the night. I’d forgotten how much fun car camping could be. I missed my family and after feeling stressed and unsettled all afternoon I felt a little homesick as I went to bed.

June 26th – Day 75

I had an easy morning as the shuttle back to the trailhead didn’t leave until 10. I got breakfast with Pez, Wiggles, Baby Bigfoot, and Heart. Heart even fixed the zipper of my fanny pack for me, which had been broken for a while. Afterwards, I packed up my stuff and hung out in the PCT area. I chatted with a few of the other hikers there, and when the time came for the shuttle I hopped on the first one with Pez while Wiggles, Baby Bigfoot, and Joe waited for the second.

The views were stunning as we headed into the Northern Sierra. We made good time despite the heat, and I even got to hike behind a dog for while. Pez, Baby Bigfoot, Wiggles and I made camp with Ghost and Dust. Ghost earned the new trail name Fire Breather (because there were too many Ghosts on trail). We had a campfire and it was a pleasant evening.

June 27th – Day 76

As I packed up I accidentally dumped an entire liter of water into my tent, soaking some of my stuff. Great. I laid out some of my stuff to dry and waited after the rest of the group had left camp. While I waited for my sleeping bag to dry, Joe strolled through camp. I’d hoped to stay ahead of him, but wasn’t surprised that he caught me while I waited around that morning. He came over to say hello and then stood around saying not much else before moving on. It seemed a little strange, but I’ve had plenty of strange interactions on trail. Finally, my stuff was dry so I packed up and moved on.

As I hiked alone I passed a trail junction. On top of the signpost was a small piece of paper under a rock. I’ve seen these sort of messages before, and I usually just walk right by, but this time for some reason my curiosity got the best of me and I stopped to investigate. To my surprise, the paper had a picture of a campfire and an ant on the face up side. Fire Ant. It was for me. On the other side was a note, written in an impersonation of old English inviting me to join the author at a creek up the trail if I liked him. It was signed with Joe’s real name. I was flattered, but pretty uncomfortable and I didn’t want to encourage him. The creek was directly on the trail and not far ahead, long before where I knew the rest of the group would camp. I didn’t have much of a choice but to continue ahead.

I ran into Joe long before the creek mentioned in the note. He asked if I’d found his notes, plural. I told him I’d only found one, and described the note. He shrugged and said that I’d found the fun one, not the serious ones. I didn’t ask what the other notes said. I didn’t think I wanted to know. Joe insisted we hike together the rest of the day. When I hiked slowly or stopped, he stopped with me. After a while he insisted I hike ahead so that we could stick together, and despite my best efforts I couldn’t lose him. He was strong, and could hike faster than me. After his comments about my body K felt very uncomfortable having to hike in front of him all afternoon.

I’ve tried to understand the events that followed in the days since and two details seem particularly relevant. First, Joe was receiving military disability checks. Without me asking, he told me (and other hikers) how he got them, and even by his own account it was clear that he had suffered a psychotic break and was discharged due to a behavioral disorder diagnosis after an episode of dangerous and unpredictable behavior. Second, Joe claimed that these checks would double if he were married, and would increase even more for every child he had. He was clearly excited about this possibility.

As we hiked Joe revealed that he had hiked the trail nearly in it’s entirety the year before. He told me stories, mostly about the people he hiked with. Every single person in his stories was female. In 2020 and now in 2021, Joe hiked only with women. Given that men outnumber women on trail nearly two to one, this could only be due to Joe’s preferences in hiking partners.

The longer we hiked, the stranger the conversation got. Joe talked about his dreams for the future, of a dozen acres of land he’d bought in East San Diego county and plans growing marijuana on it. He followed each declaration of his life plans with a question if whether it seemed appealing to me. He seemed pleased if I said what he wanted to hear, and didn’t seem to hear me if I said something he didn’t like. It started to become clear that Joe was looking for a wife on trail, and I was his next target. I was extremely uncomfortable, but I wasn’t sure how he’d react if I upset him, and I didn’t know how to get away.

We stopped for a snack break and Joe scooted close to me on the log I was sitting on. I tried to keep the conversation light, but Joe kept steering back to deeper topics. After joking that I was getting old after finding a gray hair, Joe scooted closer and looked into my eyes and asked if I’d grow old with him on his farm. I laughed it off as a joke, but I could feel my heart pounding in my chest in terror. He just looked at me with a completely serious look on his face. I couldn’t believe that I was trapped there with Joe while the others were ahead. I felt like I’d stepped into the Twilight Zone, or gone back in time 150 years to when this would have been a reasonable proposition. Joe leaned in to kiss me and I jumped up and put my pack on, determined to find the others.

After hiking beyond where I thought I might find the group I still didn’t see them. It was getting late and the sun was setting. I hoped I’d see them around each corner only to de disappointed. Joe kept suggesting camp sites, but continued to follow me when I passed them up. Finally I passed what the map indicated would be the last campsites for a while. I thought that maybe the group was just ahead, so I walked forward a few hundred yards, but I still couldn’t see them, so I walked back to the sites I’d just passed with Joe in tow, deeply disappointed. I made an excuse to head to bed early and lay awake. Hoping that Joe might get up and leave before me.

June 28th – Day 77

Despite staying in my tent until after 7, Joe waited. As we started hiking I again tried to keep the conversation trivial and light. Looking towards a town in the distance I wondered aloud what town I was looking at. “Maybe it could be OUR town” Joe said and tried to kiss me again. I pulled away and told him I didn’t want to. I told Joe I needed a snack break and insisted he go ahead.

As I sat there, glad to finally be alone for a minute, I felt angry at myself for the situation I was in. Why couldn’t I just tell him to leave me alone? Why was I so afraid of displeasing a man that I didn’t even like?

A week earlier a woman on trail had intended to break up with her partner. After she got off the phone, Pez asked her how it went. “I tried to break up with them, but they said ‘let’s not’ so it didn’t happen.” She said. Pez and Wiggles laughed.

“How do you try and fail to break up with someone?!” They laughed “That’s not their decision to make”. But I understood completely. For most of my adult life I’ve stayed in situations I didn’t want to be in in order to make people happy, especially men. I’ve caused myself so much pain and discomfort because I was too scared to make anyone else upset. I’ve endured so much heartache from this habit, and in the end no one is ever happy.

I resolved to tell him that I wasn’t interested. How hard could it be? Joe interrupted me as I formed a plan as he headed towards me from the other direction. He’d only gone a hundred yards and was waiting for me to continue. I wanted to tell him that I thought we should just be friends, and that I wasn’t looking for anything on trail, that I was there to “find myself”. It sounded cliche, but it was the truth and the best excuse I could think of. Instead I was silent as I picked up my pack, pushed my way out of a hug and another attempted kiss, and headed down trail.

For the rest of the morning I berated myself for not saying anything. I had it all planned out, why hadn’t I said anything? I continually slowed my pace, eventually losing Joe when he didn’t notice that I’d stopped. From then on I hiked cautiously, stopping everytime I saw him ahead of me in the distance. This was manageable, I thought. I could do this for the next day and a half until I got to Lake Tahoe, where I’d be sure to lose him in the small city.

This strategy worked for most of the morning, and I was so grateful to finally be alone. I hadn’t realized how on edge I was. I headed towards a pass as storm clouds formed and a few raindrops started to fall.

“There you are!” I heard Joe say as I rounded a corner and saw him behind a tree. “I wrote you this note!” He handed me a piece of paper.

I asked if he wanted me to read it now or later. “Later” he said, and I was so relieved that I didn’t have to read it then and there in front of him. He asked where I planned on camping for the evening, and I threw out a mile marker far ahead of where we were. “Well, we better get going then.” he said, taking off. I followed behind for a bit before ducking behind some bushed next to a stream to get water. I waited until he was far enough away and opened the note. Reading it was bone chilling.

I felt intense fear and discomfort, and beneath it all, shame. Did I lead him on? Why hadn’t I told him to get lost earlier? No. I reminded myself that there was nothing I could have said over the last TWO DAYS that we had known each other that could have warranted this kind of response. Nothing I might have said or done could have made this letter reasonable. I knew from his story about his time in the military what he was capable of. I had a legitimate reason to fear making him angry.

I knew that I needed to get away, but I didn’t know how. What could I do? Call the police? A crime hadn’t actually been committed. Complain to the PCTA to get his permit revoked? He was hiking without one. Could I get off trail? There wasn’t a bailout point before Tahoe. I took a deep breath and pulled out my satellite messenger. I didn’t have cell service, but Pez might. I could message my sister to text him asking him where he was camping, and to wait for me. My sister replied quickly. Pez, Ghost, and Wiggles weren’t too far ahead and would wait for me. I felt instant relief and continued on, stopping whenever I saw Joe in the distance.

Finally, I made it to camp. Joe had continued on to the campsite I had told him originally, and I rejoiced at finally losing him. I had nightmares all that night.

June 29th – Day 78

I knew Joe was ahead, but I took my time all morning anyway. It was so nice to finally be alone. I felt more peace than I had in days as I caught my first glimpse of Lake Tahoe. Still, I was spent. I hadn’t realized how on edge I had been, and I was so looking forward to just getting to town, showering, and going to bed.

As I approached the Highway where the PCT crosses I followed signs for the PCT. When I was about half a mile from where I’d expected the PCT to cross, I checked my GPS map to see that I wasn’t on the PCT at all. I checked my paper map and saw a side trail veering off in the direction I was. It didn’t look like the side trail intersected the PCT or the Highway at all, so I back tracked to where I thought I might have missed a turn.

I passed a junction on the map but never saw it in reality. I saw a trail far below me, but I couldn’t believe it was the PCT. I’d followed all the signs. I checked for cell service and was surprised to see I had a little. I sent a text to Pez asking if he knew where to go. He said he’d also gotten lost and took the “Pony Express” trail to the highway instead. I wasn’t sure if I was on the PCT or the Pony Express trail, but I guessed it must be one or the other, so I continued on and hoped that it would cross the PCT eventually, repeating that mile of trail for the THIRD time.

Finally, the trail crossed the Highway and I headed to the road to hitch hike. A pickup truck stopped almost immediately. A man offered me a ride. He was on his way home from a day hike in the area. I was very grateful. He mentioned that most people don’t check the area I was in for hitch hikers, as I was on the NEW PCT, which had only been completed a few months prior. We drove past where the old PCT crosses, and sure enough there were more hikers being dropped off there. That explained why neither of my maps matched what the trail signs said.

He dropped me off at the Motel 6 in South Lake Tahoe right at 3 pm, where I had a reservation. I was excited to check in and headed to the front desk. They told me that my room wasn’t ready, and they took my phone number to call me when it was. I walked outside to see that I didn’t have cell service, so I wouldn’t get the call. I went back inside to ask for the wifi password while I waited, but they said they couldn’t give it to me until I checked in, and there was nowhere to wait in the lobby anyway.

Even in South Lake Tahoe it was HOT, and I longed for an air conditioned room. I walked a block to a laundromat to get some chores done while I waited. I changed into my town dress and threw all my clothes in the wash. I waited for the washer to finish before heading back to the motel. By now it was 4 pm, and I hoped my room might be ready, but again was told to wait for a call. I asked for a time estimate on when it might be ready, but they couldn’t give me one.

I headed back to the laundromat and checked on my clothes again. There was an Indian food takeout restaurant inside a liquor store a few blocks away, so I headed inside to order food. I found that I had cell service standing in a tiny spot outside the liquor store, so I hung out there while I waited for my food to be ready.

While I was standing outside, looking at my phone, a man on a bike road up and started yelling. It took me a few seconds to realize that he was yelling at ME. I looked up and tried to listen to his words.

“Look at you, dressed like a dirty whore. Those men don’t give a flying fuck about you. They’ll use you like the trash you are. They won’t love you. Jesus Christ will love you if you dress right. Fucking disgusting.”

He continued berating me for another minute or so, repeating the same sentiment, as people walked in and out of the store, ignoring us. I stood there in shock. I couldn’t believe this was happening. I didn’t think I looked too bad. I probably smelled pretty bad, but he wasn’t close enough to smell me. I knew he was either drunk, high, crazy, or some combination of the three, but I didn’t have the emotional capacity to deal with his insults. I couldn’t even walk away, let alone think of a response. Why couldn’t the crazies just leave me alone today? Did I look as vulnerable as I felt?

Finally he rode away. As he left and I stood there, still frozen, I saw Joe walking up behind him. “There you are! I never got your number.” He said.

I couldn’t believe what was happening. I mumbled “I have to go” and headed in the opposite direction. He called after me but I kept going, and he didn’t follow me. Finally when I knew he was gone, I circled back to the liquor store to pick up my food. I also picked up a six pack, determined to drink away the rest of the day.

I checked to see if the room was ready at 5 pm and was disappointed again. I rotated between places I didn’t think Joe would be: a bench behind a hair salon, a strip of grass in front of a bike path, under a tree next to a dumpster, hoping to be able to get into my hotel room without running into him again. I thought that of course, today, when I most desperately needed a secure place to be alone, would be the day that I couldn’t check in.

Finally at 6 pm I went back to the front desk and begged for a room, any room. They offered me a smaller room than the one I had booked at half the cost, and I jumped at it. I was so glad to finally have some privacy and AC. I hopped in the shower, resolving to spend the rest of the night drinking alone to forget the last few days. I told myself that the words of the man on the bike weren’t my problem, that it wasn’t my fault that he was so attracted to me that all he felt was anger.

When I hopped out of the shower I had a message from Pez, asking which room I was in. I told him and he, Wiggles, and Zod showed up at my door with a Chipotle burrito bowl. They had known I was down and brought me food! I was so excited. Pez apologized because they had taken scooters to deliver it to me and the bag had broken, causing half of the food to spill on the ground, but I didn’t care. It was a little gritty from dirt, but I was so, so grateful for their kindness and I happily ate it anyway.

Pez, Wiggles, and Zod hijacked my drinking alone plans and insisted that I go back to Zod’s hotel with them to hang out by the pool. The hotel was far, so they insisted we take electric scooters there. I was hesitant. In LA electric scooters are universally hated, and I always thought of them as a menace, but Pez insisted that they were fun and I should try them. To my surprise, it was a really fun way to travel, and I got nice views of the lake on my ride over.

Zod made us some sort of frozen rum based drink and we headed to the pool deck to watch the sunset. Afterwards we walked across state line to the casinos in Nevada so that Pez could try his luck at the slots. Pez claims to have a solid strategy on how to win money at slots. Astonishingly, I haven’t seen it fail yet. Wiggles had quite a bit of luck at the Craps table, as well.

The night at the casinos was just what I needed to get my mind off of the previous few days. As much as I would love my experience to be dependent on nature and my own physical abilities, the human element is as big of a factor in defining my experience. I’d had a rough few days dealing with some unpleasant humans, but the good humans, the Pezs Zods, Wiggles, and all the trail angels, can turn a bad few days around. I went to bed determined to put the bad few days behind me, and I looked forward to better days ahead.

Until next time,

Megan, “Fire Ant” Spencer