My first thought as I peered through closed eyelids was that I was 26. It was my birthday. I sat up and looked through the mesh of my tent. Penguin waved good morning to me from across the campsite and Spygot came over to give me a birthday hug. Deciding to start the day right, I boiled some water for a Mountain House breakfast. Soon the smell of sausage, eggs, and potatoes wafted into my tent and I cozily snuggled into my sleeping bag for breakfast in bed on such a lovely morning.
After a few miles of hiking, I came to a wide stream cutting through a meadow. This was supposed to be one of the more dangerous stream crossings, as the water was swift and eventually channeled into what looked to be a steep drop downstream. Someone had drown here last year, unable to cross safely from the swollen and swift waters. But this year it hardly looked threatening; only a few feet deep at the middle. The challenge would be to make it across with dry feet. I scouted it out and chose my path. I easily hopped to a small island and then onto a few stepping stones in the middle of the stream. I got two steps from shore and ran out of options. Balancing on a few rocks with no more stepping stones ahead, I realized I would have to get wet. I picked a foot sacrifice to the water and quickly stepped in, pushing off and leaping to the shore. I waved to the others from across the stream and pointed to my route. Only Penguin decided my way was best, and he started across. He got to the last two dry stones before getting stuck, as I had. I told him to wait and reached down for huge rock, noting to myself how kind I was too make a stepping stone for him so he wouldn't get wet, and threw it in the water. It landed perfectly. Unfortunately, it was too perfect, for as it slapped the surface a wave of spray washed over Penguin. "Are you kidding me?!" he shouted over the rush of water with a grin, dripping wet. I bust out laughing, apologizing at the same time.
The climb up Matter Pass wasn't so bad. My pack was light enough that I was able to set a good pace. When I arrived on top, I dug out a huge brownie my mom had made for my birthday. I had been carrying it for a few days since the last town, up four mountain passes and many miles. I was eager to finally drop the weight. It seemed to be at least three pounds. Once TC, Spygot, and Penguin arrived, I opened it up and stuck in a few candles and a happy birthday trinket. I wore a little birthday tiara and tooted a noise maker as the other sang to me in both English and German. The wind had blown out the candles for me so I didn't have to worry about spitting germs all over the brownie, and we dug in. Three more thruhikers (Threader, Sharkbait, and Leapfrog) joined us and helped finish the brownie off. It was amazing; a delicious brownie on top of a beautiful mountain on my birthday. Can't get better than that.
The way down the pass was fun. We picked our way down the snowy mountain, glissading and rock hopping and slipping on loose rock under the hot sun. We stopped at an alpine lake for lunch. The turquoise water invited me in, and I lept from a rock into the icy depths, gasping as the cold water closed around me. It was exhilarating. So I did it again. It was colder the second time. I dried out in the sun while I ate lunch with the others, then we all moved on in our own time.
Skirting the lake and following a waterfall, the trail continued down an incredibly long, rocky, and steep hill. It was slow going and the sun was hot, all effects of the cold dip wore off and I grew cranky and impatient, stopping often to tie my shoes or fiddle with something.
The further downhill I went the more frustrated and tired I got. I hiked through an area that had burned, bright green bushes choked skeleton trees shooting to the sky. Then the forest grew choked with weeds and bushes, making it ugly and buggy. I turned on some music for the last mile to help me push through the discomfort. I found Threader, Sharkbait, Penguin, and Leapfrog at the bottom of the hill, resting in a campsite, but soon they pushed on, planning on hiking til dark. It was already 5:30 and I was tempted to stay there, but I decided I could do one more mile to a nice spot near a meadow.
I found a lovely spot on the edge of the meadow, a creek channeling through the tall grasses nearby and pines standing guard overhead. I made a fire to keep away the mosquitoes as TC and Spygot joined me. By now it was clear the rest of the Rattlesnacks would not catch up for a while, but I was content to be in subgroups. I went to bed with mountains towering across the meadow, deer munching on grass, and birds singing a happy lullaby. What a fantastic birthday. I was on a 2600 mile journey as I turned 26.
On the way up Muir Pass
5:15am. I made myself get up. I needed an early start to get up Muir Pass. It would be snowy and I didn't want to get stuck post-holing in the soft snow. The uphill was gentle and the mountains cast cool shade over the trail. I made fantastic timing. I saw Sharkbait and Leapfrog ahead and was happy to know I would see them at the top. A few miles before the pass, a snow field covered the trail. I excitedly put on my microspikes, ready for an adventure. I lost the trail almost immediately, following an old path through the snow. I looked back and realized most of the people had climbed up some rocks to continue up the trail rather than crossing the snow. No matter; I made my own path. I knew I had to go up, and that the PCT was somewhere nearby. I climbed up some rocks and crossed over the snow to start heading back towards the trail. When I looked on my GPS, it said I was almost right on top of it, but there was no path. Then I peered over some rocks and saw people pass by 50 feet below me. I certainly was on top of the trial. I picked my way down the rocks and finally joined some other hikers trudging along. The trail paralleled a river cutting through the snow and past a lake with chunks of ice suspended in the glassy surface. Everything was white. It was beautiful. Everything was so beautiful.
I made a bee-line up the hill, my microspikes grabbing the snow. It was exhausting but incredibly fun. Breathing hard and heart racing from the climb, I finally made it to the top.
A squat stone hut sat on top of the pass, a crowd of people milled about. I caught up with the other thruhikers before they headed down, and after eating a quick bite, I headed down myself. I soon lost the path again in the snow, but I knew I had to head toward the river in the distance. The snow melted into a rock field, and I danced across the stones as water flowed gently all around. Deciding I should try to get on the PCT again, I turned on my GPS and followed the arrow. Back on the path I got into a rhythm, and I found Sharkbait, Leapfrog, Threader, and Penguin behind a rock by coincidence and joined them for lunch.
I jumped off rocks, splashed into mud puddles, and skipped across the trail, full of energy. It was amazing. Beautiful. Gorgeous. Words can't describe. I wanted to shout in awe. Instead I climbed a big pointy rock and did cartwheels.
The trail entered the forest and my energy started to wain. My feet hurt, and I was done.
But I had told the others I was going to cross the creek today, and they were waiting on me there to make sure I made it across safely, so I had to keep going. Evolution Creek is another dangerous crossing in high-water years, but this year it wasn't that deep. I would have been fine by myself. Still, it was nice to have people there in case I needed help. The water felt good; it was knee deep and slow moving. After crossing and putting my pack on the opposite shore, I went for a swim. I camped by the river, making a fire to keep mosquitoes at bay. The sun glowed red as it set through the trees, evidence of a forest fire miles away.
There are those times when you have a bad or weird dream, and when you wake up the tone of the dream sticks with you for the whole day. Such was the day. Stressful, and not fun. It started out when I ate oatmeal in my tent. Mistake number one; I function better when I get up and go and not linger around camp. When I finally emerged from my tent, a swarm of mosquitoes dove at me, trying to find bare flesh. I quickly set off the gentle downhill, but then came the up. A really long up, exposed to a blazing sun in parts, shaded but buggy in the others. Muggy, no breeze, my torn shirt hanging off me, damp with sweat. So miserable. I'll let my anger for the stupid sun and stupid hill and stupid mosquitoes and stupid fly-covered horse poop fuel me up the hill. I was practically running. But my energy waned and the elements won and soon I had to stop on every switchback.
I found Threader, Leapfrog, Penguin, and Sharkbait in the shade by the creek. I rudely shrugged off their greeting and jumped in the water. After cooling down I was in a much better mood. Lunch, then another climb. This one wasn't as bad. A cloud covered the sun for a blissful 15 minutes. I sat with the others by a lake amongst a cloud of mosquitoes. Further up the trail was another river crossing. The others crossed waste deep. I headed further upstream where the water was swifter but shallower. I stopped early, wanting the day to be over. I ended up camping alone and watched the mosquitoes push their straws through the mesh of my tent before falling asleep.
I woke up in a much better mood and crushed the miles to the lake where I waited for the ferry with 20 or so other hikers. I had decided to go into Vermillion Valley Resort with my current traveling companions. I didn't really have a reason to go to the resort, but wanted to finish this section of the Sierras with the Rattlesnacks, who were behind, and I needed to kill some time. The ferry pulled up and unloaded it's burden of hikers who were headed out. A friendly dude hopped off and welcomed us onto the boat in a booming voice.
The half-hour pontoon ride was awesome; cool and windy, I watched the water churn white behind us as we made our way across the lake. We arrived in time for breakfast. As I had just eaten oatmeal and wasn't hungry, I sat with the others while they scarfed down delicious food, patiently waiting for lunch. The World Cup was on TV, a steady background noise.
When lunch rolled around I enjoyed a delicious burger. We all fell into an afternoon lull, sitting with heads down or a dazed look on our face. Soon the time came for the ferry to go back to the trail, and we headed back.
I stood at the the junction where the PCT met the trail to the lake I had just left, unsure of what to do. I had managed to find out that the other Rattlesnacks were close, and I had hoped to see them there, or at least find a note. I looked South along the PCT and saw a few people through the trees. I took a few steps in that direction. It was my trail family, hanging out by a bridge; I was so happy to see them. With a huge grin, I gave everyone a hug and joined the group. We sat there a while, catching up, as we hadn't seen each other since the last town. Finally we moved on, looking for a nice place to camp. I cut off trail down a rabbit path. Angelic voices sang as the woods opened to a amazing campsite: pine trees towering overhead and soft needles underfoot, a waterfall leaping in the distance, a rock backdrop, and a freshly built fire ring. After dinner we played mafia around the fire, enjoying the evening.
Unlike the AT, I set off on the PCT with little known purpose to the hike. Starting the trail without reason scared me. If there was nothing to keep me going, then what would keep me from quitting? It's good practice to make a list of why you want to thruhike to motivate on the hard days. I had no list. I had learned what I needed to learn on the Appalachian Trail, and the PCT hadn't really taught me anything new. I started to wonder if I was just hiking this trail to check the box, if it was just something to do. As I crossed the desert, I started to question why. Why hike? I never really had a good answer; I just wanted to see the beautiful country. And as months wore on and I began the Sierras I started to feel like there wasn't much purpose to the hike. It was fun, it was beautiful, but was there wasn't a purpose. When a Outward Bound contacted me asking if I wanted to instruct a course for a few weeks, I immediately wanted to go. I wanted to do something that would mean something. Outward Bound is my usual summer job, when I am not thruhiking. I lead groups of youth and young adults in the Boundary Waters of MN, backpacking and canoeing, facilitating experiences and helping them learn life lessons through expeditions in the wilderness. So the past few weeks I had been coordinating logistics on top of mountains when I had service. Although I was sad to leave the trail and people for a bit, I was incredibly excited for a change of pace and the opportunity to do something meaningful.
I woke up, the last full day on trail before I would leave to go to MN for the course. I deflated my air mattress and packed up my sleeping bag before I realized what I was doing, and regretted getting up so early.
I ate breakfast at on top of a pass, observing the smoke from a fire in the distance, jagged mountains popping out of the gray cloud. I was one of the last of the crew to leave the pass and hiked in silent misery up a hill until I came to another lake. I jumped in. The water was cold but the bottom was muddy. I quickly washed up and hopped out. Deciding to find a better swim spot, I headed on until I heard TC call, and joined the others across the lake for lunch.
We all camped by a creek that last night on trail together. After I left for OB I knew I would be three weeks behind everyone, and it would be long time until I would see them, if ever. It was a pretty uneventful evening; everyone was tired from the hike. We were all incredibly low on food, but shared what we could with those who had less. We played a few epic games of ninja before crawling into our tents and falling asleep.
A loud group pulled me from a good sleep, which was slightly annoying. The others were already packing up and leaving. I deflated my air mattress and sank to the ground. The ground was comfy. I could sleep again. But town called. I finally packed up in the chilly air and started off. The miles went quick, and soon I was finished with the trail for a while. Wow.
A few hours later found us at Mammoth Lakes in a cabin. I couldn't relax, for I had to prepare to leave. I was renting a car to drive to Vegas to fly to Minneapolis to shuttle to Duluth to be picked up by somebody and taken to Outward Bound. We spent the night playing games and hanging out.
The next morning we cooked a spread of biscuits, fruit, pancakes, milk, and eggs. And then after some goodbyes I was off. The travel to MN was a blur, moving at speeds more than three miles an hour, things can change quickly. It was a long stressful journey, but finally I found myself in a peaceful cabin among familiar forests, rain pattering gently off the roof as I settled down and got ready to go out into the wilderness again, this time with seven teenagers and a great co-leader. A 2- week canoe expedition awaited.
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