I've hit my stride. My knee is happy. My feet are happy. I'm very happy. I may be wee, but I've never been a shrinking violet and my body is strong. The muscles in my legs are propelling me forward over miles and miles of southern California with more and more ease. Don't get me wrong, I work my tail off and am exhausted at the end of each day. But the satisfaction of that exhaustion is indescribable to one who has not worked so hard for it. But I am amazed each time I check the map and see the miles I've covered and how quickly they seem to have gone by. A few days ago I hiked 11 miles before 10 o'clock without stopping. I covered 21 miles and lots of elevation gain by the end of the day and still managed a 7 hour break during the heat of the day. It's crazy. Who does that? On the Pacific Crest Trail it's normal and my feats aren't feats at all, just what everyone is doing. I'm nothing special. But I'm feeling pretty dang proud of myself. Day after day I've been walking 20 miles and suddenly I find myself approaching the 400 mile mark of my journey. It's mind-boggling, even for me, to think of miles walked in terms of hundreds, but it is becoming more rote. My little body puts one foot in front of the other time after time after time, everything I need on my back, and I'm walking the length of California. Wow. I'm feeling kind of badass these days.
Along with the happiness of my physical health and strength, I'm emotionally free and ecstatic. I think we've established that I'm not the brightest bulb in the tanning bed. I'm a simple girl. I don't remember the details of important historical events. I have strong opinions about things that I have a hard time backing up with facts, but I still know why I believe them. I'm not known as a philanthropist though I care for the welfare of others. I live simply and in the moment and hiking this trail is absolutely my happy place. I see new territory every single day and will until I reach Canada. Looking down at my feet walking along the trail makes me unbelievably satisfied. The dried salt patterns on my gray pants and the stiff, starchy feeling of my disgustingly dirty shirt are a badge of honor as the sweat that made them that way was hard earned. Sitting on the edge of a mountain, looking out over deep valleys is satisfying beyond words and when one songbird, singing a simple 5-note song over and over, is joined in perfect unison by another bird it brings tears to my eyes in the same beautiful way that the high notes of "Bring Him Home" from Les Miserables does every time. It's totally corny, but absolutely true. I love putting my tent up at night and going through my cleaning ritual. I love laying in my sleeping bag and looking at the stars through the mesh of my tent. I think I'm the luckiest girl in the world because I get to climb mountains, splash in mountain streams, eat all the junk food I want without consequence, get to smell desert wildflowers and warm mountain pine needles, only have walking clothes and sleeping clothes, I get to live in the dirt. It brings me great joy to raise my arms straight out to my sides, spread my hands as wide as these tiny mitts will expand, and utter a loud "RAWR!" as lizards scurry out of my way...I feel very tall and powerful to make lizards flee. I feel brave everytime I pass a snake. Every interaction I have with day-hikers is positive and leaves me smiling as I hike away. I'm content with the ever-present thoughts in my head, as inane as they usually are. My day to day life is at once repetitive and brand new. This simplicity and total immersion in nature suits me to a "T". I'm not changing political policy, helping those less fortunate than myself, or leading a revolution. But I can honestly say I go to bed each night tired, happy, and satisfied. I hope that counts for something.
There are rumors floating around the trail that this is The Last Good Year. Already this year's hiking class has the most registered people with suggestions of over 700 people attempting the trek. But this year a book called Wild came out and if Into the Wild is any indication, this trail will explode with people in future seasons potentially saturated with "lost", newly single, or grief-stricken women. I will admit that I have not read the book, so I only know loosely what it is about (because I am living it sans personal drama), but I do know what Into the Wild did to the Denali area and I know how the hoardes of avid fans dream of recreating the steps of adventurers like this in homage or perhaps in finding their own story. Hundreds of hikers have come up to Denali in the years since Into the Wild came out in order to make a pilgrimage to "the bus" where Christopher McCandless spent his last months. The book, Wild, alone assures a greater number of people and piqued interest in the Pacific Crest Trail, people who may have never have heard of it. But on top of this, rumors of Reese Witherspoon buying the movie rights to the book are flying around and apparently a movie will be filmed on location on the trail next season. More traffic and this sort of hubbub would most certainly dampen the experience for a great amount of thru-hikers. Therefore, many people are referring to 2012 as The Last Good Year. We'll see what happens.
I've got to go get some food, hitchhike to the trailhead, and get a campsite for the night...big day of hill climbing awaits tomorrow. More news when I can...but I am doing well and having the time of my life....
Monday, May 21, 2012
Wednesday, May 9, 2012
Of Boy Scouts, Stalkers, and Dr. Sole
Sitting here in the backyard of Trail Angels named Ziggy and The Bear (an 80 year old couple who turn their backyard into a hiker haven for 2 months of the year) in White Water, California, in the windy, hot San Gorgonio Pass, surrounded by giant windmills and towered over by Mount San Jacinto, I find myself dumbfounded. More dumb than found, I suppose, but in awe nonetheless. Yesterday was a big day in my world of thru-hiking: I did my first 21 mile day, decended 7000+ feet in elevation, hiked past the 200-mile marker of the trip, and drank an icy cold Miller High Life under Interstate 10 as traffic whizzed by overhead. What a day.
After leaving Warner Springs, I continued through the mountains of the desert. One of the things I enjoy most about this trail is that the views and ecosystems seem to constantly change, even if subtly. Different bushes and shrubs appear, cactus come and go, wildflowers that I haven't noticed before sprinkle the hillsides and from out of nowhere a creek may flow through a valley. Water is a big deal in desert hiking and we hikers are always judging the length of our days by distance from spring to spring or cache to cache. I made my way to Idyllwild where my time was more idle than wild, but I did get a shower and some laundry done. Always bright spots in a hiker's world.
It was around this time in my hike when I discovered and named the Stalker Walker. On the early morning that we hiked 7 miles to get to the road to hitch into Idyllwild the small group of friends that I was hiking with was passed by at least 4 such Stalker Walkers. These are hikers that are absolutely flying down the trail at speeds that makes them look like they are late for an appointment or really, really have to use a bathroom. I try not to judge it, but I also don't understand it. Anyway, they are hiking so fast that when they come upon hikers moving at mortal speeds they have to put on the brakes behind the slowpokes. Now, if this were me I would simply say, "Hi! Mind if I pass?" or "Hey there! How's your morning?" or something that would a) greet and address slower hikers and let them know you are there and b) give them a chance to let you pass them on the trail. But no. This brand of hiker prefers to sneak up on you until they are literally on your heals and you are startled out of whatever reverie you are in when you realize a stranger is walking directly behind you and you have no idea how long they've been there. Stalker Walker. I find it quite rude actually and occasionally want to be passive aggressive and pretend I don't know they are there or that they may want to pass...how am I supposed to know what they want if they don't acknowledge me? But I repress those childish insticts and let them pass. Oh Stalker Walkers, learn some ettiquette would you? And what's the hurry?
The hike from Highway 74 out of Idyllwild began a new oddysey into the high alpine mountains of the San Jacinto Mountains. San Jacinto itself is 10,800+ feet and the second highest mountain in Southern California. None of this began easily for me and my hiking companions, Dan and Jamie, affectionately called the McBickersons. Jamie was feeling nauseous and as soon as we were dropped off at the trailhead by our hitched ride she began ducking into the bushes to lose her lunch and I realized that I'd left my hiking poles by the side of the road in Idyllwild where we'd been sticking our thumbs out. Feeling a bit dejected I wandered across the road to where I could see a tent set up and what was most likely "Trail Magic" happening. What I saw there was quite amazing. A man sat in the tent with a foot in his lap. A small group of 4 hikers sat around him in a circle, a girl sat facing the man with her foot on his knee and a grimace on her face. Her foot looked liked it was soaked in blood. Actually though, it was iodine and the man was the infamous Dr. Sole. This man volunteers his time during hiking season and tends to people's blistered feet along the trail. He punctures, trims, disinfects, and doctors the dirty, smelly, blistered feet of tired hikers who come limping into his station. While he works on one patient others sit around, waiting their turn, watching in facination and horror as wounds are exposed and treated. My blisters were nearly healed, so my treatment was cursory. I did get good news that my big toenail on my right foot will probably not come off. On about day 4 I ripped half of it off while moving my backpack (not recommended) and it has turned a funny color since. Not funny "ha!ha!", but more funny "peculiar". A large cooler of soda and beer was accessible to hikers and later in the evening Dr. Sole fried chicken for a small crowd and announced plans for chorizo breakfast burritos....what kind of MASH unit was this? People walked away with fresh bandages and some relief of that pesky blister pain.
Upon discovering that my poles were not longer by the road where I left them (dang.) we headed out on the trail first thing in the morning. As trail karma would have it, one of the spectators at the Dr. Sole show didn't want to walk with two poles anymore and was giving one away. I don't know the odds of this happening, but I gratefully accepted the single pole. The climbing began in earnest in this section of trail. And along with the climb we left the scrubby desert and entered a piney world of large granite boulders, sweeping desert views, trail built into the side of steep mountains, cooler temperatures, and a welcome preview of what we hope the Sierra Nevadas will be like. But bigger. I thoroughly enjoyed the continuous climbing as my knee has been responding very well (!) to the rehab I've been doing along the trail and I've been hiking mostly pain-free for about a week now. I'm still very stiff when stopped or getting going again, but I've gotten to where I'm not dreading every step, even down-hills, and can just enjoy the normal strain and exertion of my muscles growing stronger and stronger with every step. This hike is the best, most scenic, most fabulous smelling and rewarding "Buns of Steel" workout you could ever do. It feels great to just be regular exhausted at the end of the day and not limping in pain exhausted.
Up in this high elevation beauty I ran across two different troops of Boy Scouts. It was a Sunday morning and I'd just began the day with a grueling 3 mile climb to a water source that I then had to climb down 500 feet to get to. So it goes in the search for H20. The first troop I came across was from San Diego and I have to admit, they were prepared...more so than I. I was on my last scrap of toilet paper and when I asked if they had any extra they happily shared their bounty. Or maybe Bounty, or is that just paper towels? At any rate, San Diego and Scripps boy scout troops: good luck in New Mexico in August! Thanks for the kind words and interest in my hike!
We had unbelievable weather hiking across the San Jacintos and although it was definitely the most challenging hiking (some might call it "ass-kicking") it was stupendously beautiful and we felt super accomplished at the end of each day. And in a single day we left the cool temperatures, pine cones, frequent cool streams of fresh water, elevated views, and descended 7000+ feet into the harsh reality of the desert. Ah yes, the desert. The San Jacintos were a mirage, a tease, inspiration for the future, and a brief respite from the heat of the desert. I do find much beauty in the desert but sometimes the heat numbs my mind so much that I find myself dumbly stumbling one foot in front of the other with no thoughts other than moving forward. The cool, fresh air of the mountains invigorated me while the oppressive heat just dumbs me down. Yesterday I passed the 200 mile marker of the hike and I now only have about 500 miles of desert left before entering the Sierra Nevadas. It seems ridiculous to talk about miles to walk in terms of hundreds, but having 200 under my belt makes me feel confident and realistic about the future.
After taking a fairly leasurely pace for a bit to rehab my ailing knee and to take it easy on blisters, I'm finally ramping up my daily milage goal. Hoping to do about 15 miles a day now, but totally willing to be able to be flexible depending on how the day goes. But I'm feeling good and strong and I want to get through this desert! I'm definitely one of the slower hikers on the trail, but I'm enjoying my pace, taking lots of breaks, and getting to where I want to be at the end of the day. And isn't that what it's all about?
Onward to Big Bear!!
After leaving Warner Springs, I continued through the mountains of the desert. One of the things I enjoy most about this trail is that the views and ecosystems seem to constantly change, even if subtly. Different bushes and shrubs appear, cactus come and go, wildflowers that I haven't noticed before sprinkle the hillsides and from out of nowhere a creek may flow through a valley. Water is a big deal in desert hiking and we hikers are always judging the length of our days by distance from spring to spring or cache to cache. I made my way to Idyllwild where my time was more idle than wild, but I did get a shower and some laundry done. Always bright spots in a hiker's world.
It was around this time in my hike when I discovered and named the Stalker Walker. On the early morning that we hiked 7 miles to get to the road to hitch into Idyllwild the small group of friends that I was hiking with was passed by at least 4 such Stalker Walkers. These are hikers that are absolutely flying down the trail at speeds that makes them look like they are late for an appointment or really, really have to use a bathroom. I try not to judge it, but I also don't understand it. Anyway, they are hiking so fast that when they come upon hikers moving at mortal speeds they have to put on the brakes behind the slowpokes. Now, if this were me I would simply say, "Hi! Mind if I pass?" or "Hey there! How's your morning?" or something that would a) greet and address slower hikers and let them know you are there and b) give them a chance to let you pass them on the trail. But no. This brand of hiker prefers to sneak up on you until they are literally on your heals and you are startled out of whatever reverie you are in when you realize a stranger is walking directly behind you and you have no idea how long they've been there. Stalker Walker. I find it quite rude actually and occasionally want to be passive aggressive and pretend I don't know they are there or that they may want to pass...how am I supposed to know what they want if they don't acknowledge me? But I repress those childish insticts and let them pass. Oh Stalker Walkers, learn some ettiquette would you? And what's the hurry?
The hike from Highway 74 out of Idyllwild began a new oddysey into the high alpine mountains of the San Jacinto Mountains. San Jacinto itself is 10,800+ feet and the second highest mountain in Southern California. None of this began easily for me and my hiking companions, Dan and Jamie, affectionately called the McBickersons. Jamie was feeling nauseous and as soon as we were dropped off at the trailhead by our hitched ride she began ducking into the bushes to lose her lunch and I realized that I'd left my hiking poles by the side of the road in Idyllwild where we'd been sticking our thumbs out. Feeling a bit dejected I wandered across the road to where I could see a tent set up and what was most likely "Trail Magic" happening. What I saw there was quite amazing. A man sat in the tent with a foot in his lap. A small group of 4 hikers sat around him in a circle, a girl sat facing the man with her foot on his knee and a grimace on her face. Her foot looked liked it was soaked in blood. Actually though, it was iodine and the man was the infamous Dr. Sole. This man volunteers his time during hiking season and tends to people's blistered feet along the trail. He punctures, trims, disinfects, and doctors the dirty, smelly, blistered feet of tired hikers who come limping into his station. While he works on one patient others sit around, waiting their turn, watching in facination and horror as wounds are exposed and treated. My blisters were nearly healed, so my treatment was cursory. I did get good news that my big toenail on my right foot will probably not come off. On about day 4 I ripped half of it off while moving my backpack (not recommended) and it has turned a funny color since. Not funny "ha!ha!", but more funny "peculiar". A large cooler of soda and beer was accessible to hikers and later in the evening Dr. Sole fried chicken for a small crowd and announced plans for chorizo breakfast burritos....what kind of MASH unit was this? People walked away with fresh bandages and some relief of that pesky blister pain.
Upon discovering that my poles were not longer by the road where I left them (dang.) we headed out on the trail first thing in the morning. As trail karma would have it, one of the spectators at the Dr. Sole show didn't want to walk with two poles anymore and was giving one away. I don't know the odds of this happening, but I gratefully accepted the single pole. The climbing began in earnest in this section of trail. And along with the climb we left the scrubby desert and entered a piney world of large granite boulders, sweeping desert views, trail built into the side of steep mountains, cooler temperatures, and a welcome preview of what we hope the Sierra Nevadas will be like. But bigger. I thoroughly enjoyed the continuous climbing as my knee has been responding very well (!) to the rehab I've been doing along the trail and I've been hiking mostly pain-free for about a week now. I'm still very stiff when stopped or getting going again, but I've gotten to where I'm not dreading every step, even down-hills, and can just enjoy the normal strain and exertion of my muscles growing stronger and stronger with every step. This hike is the best, most scenic, most fabulous smelling and rewarding "Buns of Steel" workout you could ever do. It feels great to just be regular exhausted at the end of the day and not limping in pain exhausted.
Up in this high elevation beauty I ran across two different troops of Boy Scouts. It was a Sunday morning and I'd just began the day with a grueling 3 mile climb to a water source that I then had to climb down 500 feet to get to. So it goes in the search for H20. The first troop I came across was from San Diego and I have to admit, they were prepared...more so than I. I was on my last scrap of toilet paper and when I asked if they had any extra they happily shared their bounty. Or maybe Bounty, or is that just paper towels? At any rate, San Diego and Scripps boy scout troops: good luck in New Mexico in August! Thanks for the kind words and interest in my hike!
We had unbelievable weather hiking across the San Jacintos and although it was definitely the most challenging hiking (some might call it "ass-kicking") it was stupendously beautiful and we felt super accomplished at the end of each day. And in a single day we left the cool temperatures, pine cones, frequent cool streams of fresh water, elevated views, and descended 7000+ feet into the harsh reality of the desert. Ah yes, the desert. The San Jacintos were a mirage, a tease, inspiration for the future, and a brief respite from the heat of the desert. I do find much beauty in the desert but sometimes the heat numbs my mind so much that I find myself dumbly stumbling one foot in front of the other with no thoughts other than moving forward. The cool, fresh air of the mountains invigorated me while the oppressive heat just dumbs me down. Yesterday I passed the 200 mile marker of the hike and I now only have about 500 miles of desert left before entering the Sierra Nevadas. It seems ridiculous to talk about miles to walk in terms of hundreds, but having 200 under my belt makes me feel confident and realistic about the future.
After taking a fairly leasurely pace for a bit to rehab my ailing knee and to take it easy on blisters, I'm finally ramping up my daily milage goal. Hoping to do about 15 miles a day now, but totally willing to be able to be flexible depending on how the day goes. But I'm feeling good and strong and I want to get through this desert! I'm definitely one of the slower hikers on the trail, but I'm enjoying my pace, taking lots of breaks, and getting to where I want to be at the end of the day. And isn't that what it's all about?
Onward to Big Bear!!
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