Ray(s) of Sunshine

  *Attention Gentle Reader: There is a well-meaning, non-vulgar F-Bomb in this entry. Brace your tender selves.*

  The way I see it, when Death visits your life you can either think about Life or you can think about Death.  Some people probably begin thinking about mortality and what might happen to themselves after someone they know passes.  Unfortunately, I recently had the occasion to know that I am not one of those people:  Death makes me think about Life.
  Alaska contains a unique mix of people and we are very tight knit.  We are a Tribe.  And a month ago our Tribe lost one of its Elders, ending a life before its time.  I saw this news on the internet shortly before arriving in South Lake Tahoe and had no details of what had happened to Ray Garrity for the last 25 miles or so that it took for me to hike to town.  My mind reeled.  Ray had been in Alaska since the 70's and was part of the heart of its music community.  For years and years I've heard stories of the early days in Fairbanks and the antics of my Elders, who were not so "Eld" at that point, and wished that I'd been around for those days.  Rumors of a traveling Medicine Show.  People who now live in homes with flush toilets living in dry cabins with outhouses. Early music festivals.  These days seem wild and glorious and I feel lucky to hear these stories from friends of mine who see me as a "youngster" and have accepted me into their Tribe as one of their own.  Ray migrated down to Homer and has been an institution there for years.  He and his partner, Jen, host amazing parties full of decadent food and homemade music.  And though you may have been sitting in an unfinished house, tapping your toe on a plywood floor, and maybe even a window might get blown out, you never felt like you were anything less than in the company of the best people in the world.  And at the center of this, in his continually in-progress home, was Ray.  I can't claim that Ray and I were close, but I can tell you this:  Ray was the guy who brought life to a room without trying. People just wanted to be around him, to know him.  He didn't need to be the guy louder than everybody because people would quite down to hear what he had to say.  As part of the "younger" generation of Alaskans, I can confidently say that we all look up to him.  His talent playing music or playing host are talents we aspire to.  He was friendly and encouraging and interested.
  So as I sat in South Lake Tahoe, staring at a computer screen and trying to write a blog about my hike through the Sierras I just couldn't focus.  I couldn't stop thinking about Ray. My times with Ray. And my Alaskan Tribe. The simply amazing group of people that I have been lucky enough to not only call friends, but think of as family.  My hike seemed smaller at that time. I wouldn't say it felt unimportant, but my mind was in Homer, with my friends, mourning and celebrating the life of Ray.
  As I absorbed the news of Ray's accident and had hundreds of miles to think about it and what it means to me I inevitably thought of Life.  If I ever had an impact on my friends the way Ray has it will be a life well spent.  If I can be as welcoming and hospitable as Ray, I'll be glad.  I know I'll never be as good of a musician, but I sure can dance and celebrate and enjoy the music of others as well as play what I can in earnest and have fun with it.  I guess what it comes down to is that happy people make for great inspiration.  That is how I've tied this journey I'm on on the Pacific Crest Trail into Ray's life:  being content and happy makes for a better world, no matter what you are doing.  Ray was happy and spread that to those he encountered in his world and I'm fortunate to have been a part of that.  The PCT and the fact that I came back to it after a debilitating injury makes me ridiculously happy, therefore I'm doing my best to Be Like Ray.  I want to share his generous spirit in whatever way I can for his impact is lasting and he will be a part of our Tribe wherever we go. 
  Some called him Brother.  Many called him Uncle. We all called him King.  Our Tribe is missing an Elder, but we will all live out his spirit and his life will carry on in all of us.  Long live the King!
  There is a favorite, bittersweet event at the end of every festival or gathering of our Tribe that lingers in my mind and is a dear memory for me:  all of my friends, generally in a circle, arms around each other or holding hands. Some have their eyes closed, some are looking around the circle giving eye-contact and smiles.  All of us are shout-singing the chorus to our anthem, a grateful prayer to the Gods of Fun, emphatically meaning the words: "We are so fucking lucky." And we are. 
Go. Be Like Ray. It will make the world a better place.

Live life with your Fun Meter in the RED!!

 I just had to get that off my chest. Now, about the Pacific Crest Trail.....Life is grand!  I'm currently in Dunsmuir, California with only two more stops until I reach the Oregon Border!! I've logged over 1,000 miles on my tiny hooves and I'm feeling fabulous.  I'm hiking about 21-24 miles per day right now and still managing to have a 2-3 hour siesta to sit out the heat of the day.  Turns out Northern California is HOT.  I've enjoyed the views of the volcanoes, Lassen and Shasta, as well as the ever-growing forests...the trees are getting taller and everything is lush! I'm pretty much hungry all the time but have still managed to lose about 17 pounds eating nothing but Pop Tarts, Snickers, and Ramen. Go figure. All body parts are functioning and really the best I feel is when I'm walking.  When I crawl out of my tent in the mornings I'm pretty sure I look like a grandma/zombie, but once everything loosens up I'm all good. I've got a really fantastic hiking partner who I met and have been hiking with for about 950 miles and we laugh a lot and certainly help each other through the challenging moments.  Like when she dumped her just-cooked Ramen lunch on the ground. That was a rough one..... I'm happy, healthy, and headed for the border!!