Theodore Solomons Trail, Day 0

Air travel has become unbearable.

At least in the US, where employees are not paid enough to give fucks.

As soon as I got on the bus to DIA today, United sent a message that my flight from LAX to Mammoth would be delayed 3 hours, meaning I would miss my bus from Mammoth to Lone Pine, my jumping off point for the [Theodore Solomons Trail](https://socalhiker.net/backpacking/theodore-solomons-trail/).

What, you’ve never heard of the TST? You are not alone. Think of the TST as the evil twin of the John Muir Trail: a bit longer (250 miles) with much more elevation gain and loss, and many sections of the trail unmaintained for years or decades.

It is decidedly obscure; I may be the only person to hike it end to end tho year. If indeed I can hike it at all; deep snow and high water may make it impassable.

But to hike it I first have to get to it. Fucking United has done their best to prevent this. After arranging a private shuttle from Mammoth to Lone Pine, I landed at LAX to find that Fucking United had canceled the flight to Mammoth altogether, killing plan B.

Fucking United then took 2 hours to find my backpack, nearly killing plan C, which was to rent a car from LAX with two other hikers also marooned by Fucking United, drive it to Ridgecrest and meet our shuttle driver, Lone Pine Kurt, who graciously kept accommodating our shifting plans.

Plan C worked. I made it to Lone Pine before the bars closed and went out for a beer with Tungsten, an Italian engineer I met at the hostel.

I was explaining to him how every time I go to a bar and. strike up a conversation with a local they ask if I am packing when a local struck up a conversation and asked if I was packing.

He seemed genuinely offended when I claimed that unless you train like a Green Beret you are far more likely to shoot yourself (or a friend) accidentally than to shoot a charging bear on purpose. He could see no downside whatsoever to carrying a gun with a round chambered and the safety off, and stalked off in a huff, dismissing me as being beyond the reach of reason.

On the bright side, the bartender, who had been listening in, only charged for one of the two beers I drank.

So maybe my luck has turned.

Off to the trail tomorrow.