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....
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