Tea, pack up, boots on. Out by 7:45am — into light drizzle. It had rained heavily overnight and the morning stayed damp. Moving carefully to keep gear dry slowed things down, but the rain eased after a few minutes and the trail opened up again.

After 3 or 4 miles, a small town appeared beside a lake — a shop, a restaurant, and a welcome break. On the way there, a fellow hiker shared a piece of local history worth repeating: sometime around 1916, the city of San Diego, desperate after years of drought, hired a professional “rainmaker” to solve the problem. He did. The rain came — and kept coming, until the Tijuana River burst its banks and flooded the city. Whether the story is entirely true, Noah can’t say. But it’s a good one.

At the shop: water, a burger with fries (genuinely good), and a resupply rethink. Turns out Noah had overpacked — food and water both. The snacks would last a while longer than expected. He picked up a ready-made oatmeal mix anyway, the same brand that had been in the San Diego house. Mixed with plain oats, it becomes something acceptable. Most oat products here are aggressively sweetened. Trail life means working with what’s available.

Back on the trail, the rain returned — properly this time. Heavy and persistent. A rain jacket went on; the legs stayed uncovered, the boots soaked through. In hindsight, sandals would have been smarter. By the time that thought arrived, the moment had passed. The hiker from earlier — the one with the rainmaker story — reappeared and they walked the rest of the day together, arriving at mile 32 as the rain finally stopped.

Camp was small — five tents in total, three already there. Snacks through the day: nuts, beef jerky, a couple of berry-and-nut bars. Dinner: chilli rice in tortillas again. One hiker was having a rough night — stomach trouble, several rounds of it. Everyone else was fine. One lesson of the day: the supposedly waterproof phone case was not as waterproof as advertised. Phone out, everything dried, phone back in. Good to know early.

That was Day 2. Mile 32. Wet boots, a good story, and one more night dry under canvas.