Off and On and On!

After an incredibly relaxing stay in Independence I found it hard to convince myself to climb the towering pass behind the motel and jump back into the fray, but the trail has a way of pulling you back. I dreaded and craved the trail, with all it's siren beauty. The climb back up reminded me of why I was here...

My friend I had made coming off Mt. Whitney was setting off the same day with her husband to climb back over Kearsarge and I saw an opportunity to have some company (and a little help) through the toughest of the upcoming passes. I agreed to meet them halfway up Kearsarge and go together from there. Though I wanted to do 15-17 mile days I agreed to join their casual pace of 10 miles a day since I felt it was a smart thing to do over the intimidating terrain. We camped together and when I woke up the next morning they were long gone. I spent most of the day hiking slowly in anticipation of a relaxed day, a day that at 10 miles would put us just short of Glen Pass. I made it to Glen Pass quickly,then took a chance they were up on the climb and sure enough I ran into them about a half mile from the top.

I had spent most of the Sierras worrying about Glen Pass, a pass that was known to be one of the roughest climbs and steepest, snowiest descents that we had to tackle. I had built it up in my mind to Everest proportions and by the time I arrived at the base I was sure I was going to die somewhere on that climb. But, to my surprise, the climb was steep but easy and the snow was nonexistent on the southern face. I reached Allie and Clint close to the top and after a brief break we began down the north face, which I was happy to see had very little snow. A couple times Clint helped me over icy patches but I was quickly able to descend with no issues. I'm finding the passes that scared me the most were the least technical of the trail.

Allie and Clint were happy traveling at a slow pace, enjoying each other's company, but traveling solo I decided it was best to split from them and hurry along as PCT thru-hikers tend to do. The mosquitos helped keep me at a quick pace and I continued the walk through the postcard-like scenery. As is standard in the Sierras I climbed continuously up, then straight down in repeating cycles. Plainly put: Pinchot Pass kicked my ass. I spent almost an entire day climbing and still found myself on the south side of the summit as the sun was setting. I could have made it over but I didn't know what the north face held in store for me and if there is one thing I have learned on this trail it is to NEVER assume anything. So I set up camp amongst the marmots at the base of the switchbacks that led up the last half mile to Pinchot Pass.

I skipped up Pinchot the next morning and worked my way down, very satisfied that I had been the first one to cross the pass that day. The descent was mostly free of snow and I made great time heading toward Mather Pass. It was a frustrating day filled with river crossings, which scared me after breaking the two toes 10 days earlier on a swollen crossing. By the time I made it close to Mather I was too tired to be scared and pitched camp ready to tackle it the following day. The big, scary Mather Pass turned out to be one of the easiest passes in all the Sierras and I cruised over it with ease. All the fears I had harbored for hundreds of miles were proving silly and unwarranted. Had the snow been deep, or there at all, these passes would be a much different story, but the icu patches that remained were either guttered and easy to walk through or they were easy to avoid with a little rock scrambling. I was also surprised, same as I had been on Mt. Whitney, that I was able to quickly climb the passes with little fatigue on my strengthened legs. I was starting to feel more like a hiker in moments like those.

I was continuously being tested physically and mentally. As we neared the 1000 mile mark I was starting to solidify opinions on my fellow hikers. Awesome people, but a different breed.. I was noticing that the hikers around me all seemed stronger, faster and less interested in the scenery than in making miles. Throughout the Sierras I had watched as PCT thru-hikers had walked quickly past waterfalls and vistas, usually with headphones in and tunnel vision. I was starting to realize I was a different type of hiker. But more on this later, back to the Sierras..

The passes came and went with similar imposing beauty and the toughness of the trail began to take a toll on my knees and ankles. The majority of the PCT that passes through the High Sierra was not created from scratch but rather pieced together from existing trails, and most of these trails consist of endless miles of (meticulously crafted but strenuous) granite staircases and loose, rocky terrain. Sometimes in the Sierras you have to remind yourself to look up because you have to concentrate so much on picking out your footsteps as you walk. It's almost guaranteed if you keep walking and glance up for even a second, you will trip on something. I proved this theory many, many times.

I skipped around a little at the end of the Sierras but I made sure to make up the miles because dammit I wanted to feel the accomplishment at the 1000 mile mark. I slackpacked around the valley floor in Yosemite to make up for the miles I skipped entering the valley. At the time, it mattered. By the time I charged out of Tuolumne Meadows I was all caught up, even if my footsteps had been non-consecutive.

I pushed hard out of Yosemite and did a 23 mile day to hit the 1000 mile mark. I cried when I got there. It was hard earned and I felt damn good! My excitement faded as I set up camp all alone and settled in for the night of odd noises and terror that only dark forests full of predators can produce. But no matter what, at this point I had accomplished something massive and I was very proud.

Sonora Pass was the next pass to kick my ass and after baking on a long, sweaty, exposed section of trail I was ready to collapse. And as luck would have it, there was a very special trail angel named Owl who had set up a perfect place to collapse at the end of the trail where it met the road. With cookies and fruit, and sodas and beer, I sat with other hikers well into the night having a very social night, a night like I had incorrectly imagined the trail would be full of. It was great.

I slept there and woke up the next day to similar surroundings of hikers, food and relaxation. We were joined by a mother-son duo, James and Linda, and given more food and drinks than we could possibly consume. Hiker heaven! James had been attempting a speed record and had averaged between 42-44 miles a day!! He had been forced to quit when he had issues with his shoes, but had decided to turn the failed hike into a roadtrip with his mom, Linda, who had been supporting his hike. They treated us well and I was quickly taken in by Linda and James and at the end of the day I left to camp with them back down at the campground at Kennedy Meadows.

I woke up with my new friends who planned to take me to Bridgeport on their way out of town, and we chatted all morning over coffee and Belvita bars. Once we started driving James and Linda surprised me by saying they would take me all the way to Reno and stay the night! I was in awe. I had been having so much fun I wasn't ready for it to end, so I was very happy with their decision! I directed us, of course, to the Sands Regency hotel (my annual Burning Man spot) and we had a great Vietnamese meal. It was good to be around good people, and a great dog.

I mistakenly thought that 3 days off my feet would make them feel better but I quickly learned when I jumped back on the trail that the injuries I had were going to be hanging around for a while. In addition to my shot ankle, I had pulled a tendon on the top of my right foot and it was proving difficult to hike around the pain. There didn't appear to be any specific movement that made it hurt, and limping didn't take any pressure off it or alleviate the pain. I hiked on from south of Lake Tahoe up towards Truckee and when the pain became too much I decided to stop being stubborn and bail. I was 30 miles from Donner Pass or 27 miles (over terrain I knew I could handle) back to the trail head near the Tahoe Rim Trail exit. So I turned back and hiked out. I made it to Truckee then took a $16 train to Reno to save on the hotels ($75 a night cheaper than Truckee!). After several short-lived attempts at other CA sections I made a decision. A short ride with some hikers, after much thought on my options, landed me in Ashland, OR, to start the trail fresh on mellow terrain.

Ashland, OR and Asheville, NC are sister cities in so many ways. Same laid back hippie vibe, relaxed people and abundant art and that small town university feel. I stayed with Mitra, a girl who had posted her angel status on Facebook, and spent 2 nights enjoying the company of her and her lovely roommates. It reminded me of houses I shared in Asheville. They even put Penny Lane on the stereo when I walked in! I cooked a big spaghetti dinner for everyone, drank some local beer and curled up on the couch to sleep it off. I'll miss those folks!

So after a few beautiful days with those new friends, couchsurfing and sharing meals in Ashland, I hit the trail again.

The trail in Oregon is very different than what I left behind in California.. Smooth trail winding through thick trees and underbrush, shallow climbs and descents and unfortunately, humidity. I found some wild thimbleberries (so I think- I ate about 50 to be sure). The thunderstorms remained the same, still scaring me senseless almost every day!

Then I reinjured the tendon in the top of my right foot. Its an impossible injury to ignore and also impossible to prevent reinjuring since you can't avoid using it. I made it to Fish Lake and, knowi,g this would take a few days, hitched all the way back to Callahans where I knew I'd be treated well. I bummed around a few days contemplating my next move. Was the trip over? If so, where would I go? My room in Seattle is sublet until October 1, and I don't have my job lined up til then. I took a couple days to think.

I met an incredible couple at the lodge and was treated to a delicious, sloppy meal of bbq ribs, mojitos and great conversation. What cool people! We laughed and cussed our asses off all night!

I stayed one more night, mainly because the company was so good (and the all you can eat [one half plate] hiker special spaghetti). The crowd came and went in waves as the hikers dropped in to grab their free beers.

With my feet still in a bad state I started contemplating my realistic options. I could fly home and get my car and road trip the rest of summer. I could fly to Atlanta to my parents place to rest. I could try and go back to Seattle early.. I found reasonably cheap flights from nearby Medford and made the decision to fly back to Seattle and get my car. An hour later as I sat on a bus to Medford I changed my mind. Even if it meant hiking 5 miles a day I was going to hang out and enjoy the trail while hiking slowly. It was the most relaxing, convenient and cheapest option, and I was definitely not ready to leave the trail.

Several hours (and one lucky ride with Travis the forest ranger) later I was grinning and pitching my tent by Fish Lake, back on the mighty Pacific Crest Trail, watching the sun set. Funny how things work out. I just can't bring myself to leave the trail yet.