A Mini Roller Coaster: The Last Day on The Trans Catalina Trail
Sorry this final Trans Catalina Trail post has been so delayed, ya’ll! (The holidays, amiright??) This is a substantially shorter entry than the previous; not as much happened on day 3. I’m planning to write a short recap/reflection of my overall experience here on the TCT, especially in contrast with my Appalachian Trail LASH. But that’s next time. For now, here’s the end of the TCT.
Read Part 1 and Part 2 here!
Hiker Hobble and Inconsiderate Campers
I woke up bright and early, feeling like I’d been beaten with a club. Ah yes, classic hiker hobble, greeting me like an old friend. As I crawled out of my tent, I realized just how much my body ached. My hips were stiff, as though rubber bands were pulled tight inside them. The bottoms of my feet were sore, barely recovered. My quads felt like I’d put them through a brutal squat day at the gym.
These were all souvenirs from yesterday’s mad dash across the ridge and from the accumulating physical demand of a thru-hike, even though it was a short one. I knew from the beginning that it would be a gamble to plot a 10 miler, a 15 miler, and another sub-15 miler, back to back with no lower-mile days to acclimate to the physical demand.
Safe to say, I was relieved this was the last day.
Songbird had a bigger problem than hiker hobble. She barely got any sleep, thanks to the absolute tools who were camped above us last night. They carried on long past quiet hours, “talking” in shouting volume and shouting as if they intended to be heard across the sea. No amount of the other campers yelling, “SHUT UP ITS MIDNIGHT” would make them pipe down. Sigh. I guess you can’t teach people common courtesy.
I had earplugs, so I didn’t hear much of that. But Songbird didn’t have earplugs, so she was awake until they passed out around 2am. Note to anyone considering the Trans Catalina Trail: thanks to the easy access, sometimes campgrounds turn into party zones. Earplugs strongly advised.
Tamer Than It Looks
Despite Songbird’s lack of sleep, we had to get going. We needed to meet up with the others back at Two Harbors. Technically, we were already in the town of Two Harbors. But the full TCT loops around the northwestern corner of the island before returning back to Two Harbors. From there, we planned to catch the ferry back to the mainland.
We set out at a good clip, knowing the worst climbing of the entire hike was just ahead. We followed the road out of Two Harbors where it meets back up with the Trail. It was deceptively flat for a while. Then it turned into a giant ramp of a dirt road that pointed straight up.
The pitch was insane: dusty and slippery, tiny pebbles clattered down the steep incline with each step. We huffed and puffed and took a ton of breaks. I felt bad for Songbird, who was struggling from her lack of sleep.
Honestly though, the trepidation of staring at the elevation profile on FarOut was scarier than actually hiking the elevation. Once we started, it felt like it was over pretty quickly. It was a much-needed reminder to “just do the damn thing” instead of agonizing over it – a lesson I should heed well in real-life. That said, I might not feel as magnanimous about the vert if I were hiking this exposed stretch during the full heat of summer. And it was already really hot!
The trail eventually leveled out, showcasing sweeping views of the ocean and the rest of Catalina Island. Now that I wasn’t climbing, I smiled in appreciation of the warm sun and the bluebird sky, so different from yesterday’s storm and white-out. As fun as that was, it was nice to be able to take in the breathtaking views across the island once again.
We began to descend slow, then swift, the vertical drop appearing from out of nowhere. We laughed at the absurd steepness and did our best not to tumble down the dirt road. It was – no joke – a similar steepness to a slide you might find on a playground. I was glad I didn’t have to negotiate this slippery stretch of Trail in yesterday’s rainy, questionable conditions.
From our position high above, I could see the ocean again, and a cove called Parson’s Landing. This was another amazing campsite where I could have chosen to stay. I loved how, out of all the campgrounds, this one felt the most remote. It’s so remote, in fact, that there is no potable water. Campground workers have to drive gallon jugs of water which they leave in little cubbies, reserved for campsite reservation holders. I once again felt a twinge of envy when I walked up to it and marveled at its proximity to the sea: you could put your tent down right on the sand and fall asleep to the sound of the surf.
Easy Way Home
We paused here for a snack break and to make use of another of Catalina Island’s plentiful campground bathrooms. On our walk back, we were making great time. The Trail turned into a meandering, tame snake, winding around the sharp sea cliffs that loomed overhead. The Pacific was a stunning turquoise gem below us.
From here, the rest of the Trail was a no-brainer: the elevation gain all but vanished, and the path was a wide, gentle road. We stopped glancing in fear at our watches, knowing know we’d make it back to Two Harbors – and our ferry ride – long before our deadline. It was hard to believe we had hiked such a crazy ascent this morning followed by this braindead-easy walk in the park all in the same day. The Trans Catalina Trail wasn’t the hardest in my book, but it was quite the mini roller coaster for sure.
The last miles of our journey melted beneath our feet as we talked the entire way back: filling each other in on our lives, both before and after the Appalachian Trail.
As I laughed with Songbird and she cheerfully offered to take my photo at the final Catalina Island sign that marked the end of the trail, I thought again of aloneness. I remembered how amazing it felt to walk, seemingly weightless, alone and into a storm in the presence of my own company. But as I finished out my Trans Catalina Trail hike with my friend, I reminded myself that there was joy in independence and there was joy in togetherness too.
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