Socializing Angels

  I watched with breath held and eyes wide as the manly woman with the pink mohawk, heavy make-up, and tinsel halo wearing an apron with the body of a naked woman on the front approached my mother for a hug, cigarette lit and perched in an expertly held finger vise.  Her lined lips smiled broadly as she enveloped my 70 year-old mom and I watched as the inch long ash of the cigarette precariously clung to the lit stick. The woman then turned to my father who heartily embraced her warm greeting. My memory of her coming toward me with open arms is in slow motion, her clownish face pinched in a grin, smoke circling around me, as she pulled me toward her ample bosom.  I had just hiked 24 miles and I was unprepared for the scene that had unfolded around me.
  Trail angels and trail magic come in all sorts of forms. Sometimes people anonymously leave sodas and beer in a cold stream and others set up camp at a campground for 2 weeks during the summer and cook dinners and breakfast, make town runs, and basically pamper hikers passing through. All offerings are welcome and appreciated.  On this particular day, at this particular place, I was not in the mood for the magic offered at all. The Andersons are infamous trail angels who open their home to hikers, make taco salad every night, pancakes every morning, and offer copious amounts cold beer to anyone thirsty. Their generocity is legendary.  I, however, had had it up to my ears with the social scene on the Pacific Crest Trail. The trail had recently passed through several towns in a row with trail angels offering places to sleep, food, and showers: the trail had become clogged with hikers. Those who know me know me as a social person, but I also spend a lot of time alone. A lot. That is why I am sometimes so social: because most of my time is solitary. I knew that there would be an entire community of people hiking this trail, but I don't think I was truly prepared for the herd that we have become. Because of limited water supplies in the desert, many of us end up camping and congregating in the same vicinity and I was feeling a bit claustrophobic out here in the wilderness of California.  My social self and my private self were at odds and I was feeling a lot like a Scrooge constantly trying to have a quiet lunch to myself or setting up my tent at a group site and not hanging out with the gang. I was finding that though I enjoy the company of the majority of the hikers on the trail, there was certainly a fair amount of loud, obnoxious people who I didn't want to listen to. Or that chat of miles, water, caches, food, and all the other mundane topics that thru-hikers chat about had become mind-numbing.
  And on this day, after hiking 24 miles, after days upon days of a "backed up" trail, and loud, drunk people keeping me up at night I had had enough. My parents had driven down from Salinas for a visit and to do some angeling of their own and I finished my hike feeling great, like I'd just finished a marathon (which I nearly had), and I just wanted to sit with them, eat some food, have a cold drink, and get to bed. Instead, we went to the Andersons to drop some people off and I was inundated with a scene reminiscent of a loud, raucous party from my college days: old couches crowded the driveway, filthy hikers in borrowed Hawaiian shirts clapped in unison as new hikers arrived in a frat-like induction, piles of trash bags threatened to topple over in one corner of the lawn, hikers sat at a table painting rocks, music was throbbing from speakers, the port-a-potties were chock-a-block full, and beer was passed around freely. I was back in 1991 on Del Playa at UCSB shyly attending my first college party. Except this time I wanted none of it. Not only was I not in the mood for this chaos, but I certainly did not want to hang out with my parents in attendance. After making some cursory hellos to fellow hikers, I packed my bags into our 1978 VW Westfalia and peeled out to the nearest campsite where we shared a simple dinner, chatted with a couple of other nearby hikers, and got a good nights' sleep. Call me a Scrooge, but Bah Humbug partying is not what this experience is about for me. And after being around people all the time, the last thing I wanted was to be kept awake by them partying....I can get that experience at any festival I go to.
 Since then the crowds have spread out.  Many people stayed with the Andersons for 2 or more nights and the "herd"' has spread thin. I anticipate this will happen even more in the Sierras where we hikers are not so dependent on scant water sources and will have more ample campsites to choose from. I have reached the 703 mile mark of my journey and am reporting to you from a sweltering trailer in Kennedy Meadows, the gateway to the Sierra Nevadas.  I've officially completed the desert portion of the hike and am moving into what is arguably more desirable terrain. No more hauling 5 liters of water and scrounging for shade. No more night hiking. I anticipate being cold and sleeping in a little until the sun rises a little to warm the air. I relish the thought of being surrounded by some of the most majestic mountains in the Lower 48. Bring it.
  This week I will climb Mt. Whitney (14,500 ft) which is a short jaunt off the Pacific Crest Trail. I will also cross over Forester Pass (13,000+ ft.) which is the highest point on the PCT. Some exciting milestones to look forward to! But mostly I'm excited about slowing down my mileage (I've been averaging 20 miles a day), taking long breaks alongside a stream or lake, and seeking a spot of sun to sit in rather than a spot of shade...sounds lovely.
  For now, I will sit and enjoy the company of the community I have become a part of. The majority of folks are people I like and can relate to, but sometimes it's the inconsiderate loud folk that drive me to my solitary space away from everyone. I'm growing more accustomed to the amount of people around me at all times, making deeper friendships, and looking forward to more convenient places to get away and be by myself in an idyllic setting. As social as I can be, I still value my time alone as much as ever.
 Tomorrow I continue north!! The mountains await with their tidings.....