Summer Hike - Part 2

The first mile of the hike has been on graded dirt fire road, relatively flat and easy.  We're alert for small rocks on its surface that can roll a boot and twist an ankle.  After this easy striding walk in puffing soft dust, we see our trail marker off to the left near a dust-coated sage.  We have to wiggle through a cow-proof baffle gate and then we're on a single-track trail that heads uphill gently into the pines flanking the road.

This is Jim-Jim Trail, named after a boy trying to say "indian."  That little factoid has stuck with me, and I've made up lots of parts of the story as I hike along behind my two trail mates, Bonnie and Vivie.  We joke about our names and call ourselves Triple Threat.  My nickname's Charm, short for Charmaine.  Most people call me C, but Charm works better out here where we want all the luck and ease that can be had.  It must be lucky for us today because we're all feeling good.

The trail winds along the flank of a steepening hillside, switching back and forth as it begins the last two miles of steady gain to the ridge.  The grade is about 15 percent, not too bad, but the sun's hot and the air is very dry.  We set our sights on the ridge itself and stop to examine the slope for the trail coming up.  We're out in the open for a half mile and then the trail disappears back into trees again.  We continue with Vivie leading up the steady rise that crosses the open area, keeping our eyes on the trail and settling into a rhythm of breathing and steady uphill walking.  Vivie has short sturdy legs, unlike my long lankier ones, and she looks like she's driving up the hill instead of just walking.  Bonnie is also a better climber than I am but goes along more slowly, stopping to survey distant scenery and sigh deeply.

"This is so perfect.  Why don't we do this every day?" Bonnie says it almost to herself.  She's looking across the small valley we've emerged from down below.  It's studded with trees and is beginning to look like a distant idea in the blaze of the midday sun.  Nothing is moving down there except a fence lizard rustling in the dry oak leaves.  It's August, our last chance to hike this summer before getting back to our careers and studies.

"Yeah, but it's hot, you know?  We should take it easy.  It must be close to a hundred out here."

The Jim-Jim is a trail we'd heard about from a rancher, Bob Shorter, who used to work around this area back in the day, riding the trails on horseback.  He'd said not many people used the trail and we'd be able to enjoy a spring in the valley one ridge over if we were willing to "rough it."

"Yeah, it's pretty hot, but I feel good.  We don't have far to go, and we're at the top and then it's all downhill, right?"

"That's what he said.  All downhill."