It was 4pm on a Friday.

After a long week, the options stretched before me like a buffet of rest and recreation. A chance to reset, recharge, and relax.

I could have napped on the couch in air-conditioned comfort.
Or curled up with a good book.

Or slid into my swimsuit and floated lazily in the pool.

Maybe watched the Masters on TV.

Maybe wandered into the Coachella Music Festival.
Or even played nine holes of twilight golf.

But no. Of all the sane and sensible choices, I chose this:

A solo desert hike and bike ride—at the hottest time of day—on the hottest April 11th in Coachella Valley history: 101 degrees.

Why? That’s a good question. Maybe because I’m a little nuts. Or maybe because sometimes, you just need to do something that reminds you you’re alive.

My Self-Made Shuttle Adventure

The logistics were part of the fun—or at least the adventure. I loaded my electric bike onto the back of my car, drove 15 minutes to the county park where I planned to end my hike, and got permission from a ranger to lock my bike around a handicapped parking pole for later pickup.

Then I drove another 10 miles to the trailhead, parked my car (the only one in a 400-car lot), shouldered my pack of water, grabbed my hiking poles, and started walking.

The desert was empty. Silent. A little eerie.
And yes, I wondered—what if something happened to me?

Luckily, I’d told the ranger my name and phone number. My car—with its traceable license plate—was back at the trailhead. And I had my phone. What could go wrong?

Answer: The Heat

What I didn’t anticipate was that the desert heat would bake my phone in my pocket to the point where it simply stopped working. Shut down. Dead weight. My safety net had melted.

Still, I kept going. About a mile in, I saw the one and only other person I’d encounter that day—a mountain biker, who passed me going in, then again on the return when the trail became impassable for bikes.

As he passed the second time, he shouted, “Do you have enough water?”

Without thinking, I shouted back, “Many, many, many!”

What kind of answer is that? Not “Yes.” Not “I’m good.”
No—“many, many, many.”

I’ve been asked that question a hundred times on hikes in my life, and I’ve never answered like that. All I can figure is… I was a little delirious.

The Return

An hour and fifteen minutes later, I finished the hike, found my bike locked just where I’d left it, and began the 10+ mile ride on surface roads back to my car. It was long and hot but somehow exhilarating.

I got home, took a cold shower, ate a good meal, and felt…satisfied. No, more than that. I felt renewed.

Five Things I Took Away from That 101-Degree Friday

1. I might be a little crazy.
   Given all my options, I chose the wildest one. And yet, it was exactly what I needed.
2. Heat messes with tech—and with brains.
   My phone shut down. And apparently, so did part of my brain (“many, many, many”?). I need a better emergency plan when adventuring solo.
3. Even a brief, odd exchange can be revealing.
   The biker’s question and my bizarre answer made me realize I was more affected by the conditions than I thought. It was a bit of an eye-opener.
4. The desert still amazes me.
   The landscape, the rocks, the towering ocotillo plants—every time I hike here, I’m reminded of how stark and beautiful this place is. Today, no bighorn sheep, but the beauty was enough.
5. Silence is powerful.
   At several points, I stopped just to listen—and heard nothing. That kind of quiet is rare in our world. And it filled me with peace.

So What Was This Really About?

It was just a Friday afternoon in the California desert. But it was also a reminder—of the joy of pushing limits, of the value of solitude, of the beauty of stark places, and of the unexpected gifts that come from doing something slightly nuts.

Was it hot? Yes.
Was it dangerous? Maybe a little.
Would I do it again?

Many, many, many times.