As I’m coming down from the bedroom at my uncle’s house, my attention is on my aunt in the kitchen below. My foot misses a step, and I tumble head over heels to the bottom of their wooden staircase. After a minute at the bottom,I make an assessment. Nothing’s broken – not my laptop, none of my bones. My ankle hurts, and I know I hit my head. I’m shaking, like I always do after a faceplant. Continue reading →
Your friends haven’t heard from you in a while. Time to write a blog post.
Ouch. No arguing with that, is there? Welcome to the era of cyber-motivation.
My blogging apparatus is rusty in the extreme — hopefully my brain is still firing on all cylinders. I put the laptop on the glass-and-wicker table in the apartment we’re renting on the 16th floor of a downtown Melbourne high-rise, crack my knuckles and stretch out my arms. Continue reading →
Today an interesting thing came up in my Facebook feed: it’s the International Day of Forests. No kidding.
What a coincidence, I think to myself. Here I am, mulling over the idea of writing a blog post on something, anything, as long as it’s not depressing or political in nature, and my latest obsession comes and knocks at the door. Me! Write about Me!Continue reading →
In my last post, I wrote about my despair at what is happening in the US. I thought that blogging every day might help me navigate it. I had good intentions.
That night I woke up in the wee hours (hello menopause) and looked at my phone. It was 4:30 and I had a text from my brother, who had gone to New Mexico just the day before, summoned by my father in a dream, to be at Mom’s bedside:
August 6 & 7 Miles hiked: 0
Total Trip Miles: 263.9
Sleeping in a bed, my head on a pillow.
A shower in the morning.
A cup of coffee (or two!) with milk in it.
Long chats in the garden, with nowhere to go.
Watching the Olympics on TV.
Eating wonderful food in restaurants.
Reconnecting with family and sharing memories of my dad. Continue reading →
August 5 Miles hiked: 20.5
Total trip miles: 263.9
We wake up bright and early and head back over to the PCT from our awesome campsite at North Matthieu Lake. Soon we’re walking on lava, winding in and out of ancient flows, making our way to the road and MacKenzie Pass. We’ve gotten an early start because the forecast is for a hot day. Yesterday we saw a very sunburned southbounder, who said hiking over the lava flow in the heat had been unbearable. From MacKenzie Pass I figure we have about 5 miles of lava walking to do, and early morning is the best time to do it.
We can see both Mount Washington and Mount Jefferson in the distance to the north, and the Sisters to the South. We make our careful way across the eerie, desolate landscape, trying to not twist our ankles on the rocky trail.
Last summer’s love fest with the Colorado Trail sparked a kind of obsession in me. Over the long dark wintry months I perused other people’s trail journals, drooled over ultralight gear, looked at maps and plotted our next adventure.
There’s something I forgot to mention in the last post. Guess who I ran into in the parking lot of the Prospector in Silverton yesterday, right before Rob rode up? Tortuga, the solo hiker who camped above us at Pine Creek and then again along Moose creek! I’d been feeilng bad, because I only belatedly realized he must have been low on food if he needed to hitch down from Stony Pass to Silverton. He mentioned he was depleted, and I had thought he meant he was tired. That is, until the next day, when my brain was functioning properly again.
We should have shared our dinner with you, I say. In fact, our dinner that night had been more than we could eat. Dehydrated quinoa has a way of sucking up copious quantities of water and expanding into a gargantuan mass. A mass so enormous that even Marc cannot pack it all away. (I know! Impossible!)
It’s okay, he says. I should be better at asking for help.
It’s worth mentioning, I think, because we would have loved it if he had asked. Next time I’ll try to pay closer attention. If in doubt, ask other hikers if they’re okay on food. It’s lonely and long out there if you’re on your own. Continue reading →
I am putting in three miles for today, even though it’s officially a “zero” day, because getting around Lake City involves quite a bit of walking. We stop by the Raven’s Rest hostel and drop off un-needed food from our resupply box. (BTW, the undies made it, thanks Rick!) Marc introduces me to his newest friends, a couple from Alabama who run the outfitter shop; they arrange a shuttle back up to the pass for us. The free shuttle doesn’t head up to the pass until noon, and we’re willing to pay $40 to get up there early in the morning. Continue reading →
This morning we pass the hiker we saw last night, a lovely young guy thru-hiking, taking his time, traveling solo. It’s always a pleasure to chat with other hikers on this trail and hear their stories. There aren’t that many people out here. The trail from the shelter cabin to Marshall Pass is a dream — gentle grade, lovely open views, clear skies.
In fact, I am starting to feel like that this hike is being blessed. Our weather, our bodies, our spirits —everything has been so much better than I expected. While I walk I often think of my dad, who died six years ago. He’s the person who instilled this love of the wilderness in me. Everything I know about backpacking I owe to him and the family adventures he masterminded. I know he would have been so psyched about this adventure. He would have joined us for a leg or two, or at the very least insisted we carry a Spot tracker so he could follow us online. It seems entirely reasonable to me that he’s still participating somehow — parting the clouds, holding off the lightning, easing our sore muscles as we sleep at night … Continue reading →