That evening, I slept in a different Airbnb, namely the 1972 Classic Airstream, a renovated trailer situated on a hill in a secluded wilderness area. The rental price was $133. The proprietor greeted me in a saloon designated for visitors, which was completely furnished with a vintage bar and horse equipment, reminiscent of the Wild West. Given its location in Los Angeles, the structure was a just few decades old, having been erected by a film team.

Frequently, I contemplated another sentiment conveyed by Schreiner: that although the natural environment in Los Angeles is accessible to phrazle everybody, not everyone has the means to enjoy it. Approximately 40 percent of the residents of Angelette do not reside within a 10-minute walking distance from a public park.

My companion Victor accompanied me on the last day. Beginning in the morning, we ascended Sandstone Peak, the highest elevation in the Santa Monica Mountains, and then spent the day leisurely meandering our way to the beach. A number of vultures and a rattlesnake were seen. Ultimately, in the late afternoon, with my feet in need of relief, we arrived at the terminus of the route. Ocean waves were smashing on La Jolla Beach, just across the road. I had a sense of being abruptly pulled back into Los Angeles—how strange to think, after having walked 67 miles, that I had never left. I now emitted a scent reminiscent to sage scrub.