Day 129 (September 15th)
Mile 700.8- 723.4
Today: 22.6 miles
PCT hiked: 2230.7 miles
I am back on trail and it feels… weird. I think my body really thought that the Northern Terminus meant this was all over. This morning, Salty woke up early to say goodbye to me before my 6:30am hitch back to Kennedy Meadows South and the trailhead. After several hugs and some encouraging words, it was time to say goodbye to my very first and very last tramily member. I tried not to cry as I got into the car with my hitch. Fortunately, he was a chatty guy and he kept my entertained for the 2 hours it took to get to trail. When he dropped me off, the silence suddenly felt really heavy.
Throughout this entire hike, I have never been dropped off at the trail alone. Even my very first trail town, I hitched back to trail with Julien and Darius (as they were then known). It was disconcerting. I looked across the street and saw the spot where the four of us ended the desert section together. I remembered our photoshoot and our celebration upon our arrival. It was a hard morning, but fortunately I had the trail to myself and I was finally alone to cry my dramatic little heart out.
The hike was also a throwback. Lizards and beetles (for which I was named) ran across my path. It felt familiar and even a bit like home to be back here. I suddenly realized I should keep an ear out for rattlesnakes.
The hike was all uphill today, as I am currently climbing into the high Sierra. It was hard work, despite all the elevation training I just did in Washington. My backpack now includes a warmer (and heavier) puffy and baselayer for sleeping, a sleeping bag liner and more food then I have ever carried. My feet, which have been feeling good on my days off, immediately started hurting terribly despite new shoes and insoles.
Honestly, I am feeling a bit demoralized. Before we said goodbye, Salty told me to try and enjoy my solitude– I won’t have to hike after dark, I can take breaks whenever I want without falling behind, and set my own pace! I’m trying to enjoy these things. I am certainly still awed by the beauty of trail.
This morning, I wanted nothing more than to have cell service and to be able to call Jake or my mom or my tramily to share the experience with them. All the beauty without anyone to share it with almost made me lonelier.
I always hate to post a sad blog. Mostly, I haven’t needed to! All the physical stuff I have faced has been relatively easy to have a positive perspective on. Even being cold and wet was okay when I was also laughing with my friends about it. I feel like I have been very strong and resilient to the physical suffering that the trail puts you through… but I don’t feel equipped to deal with the emotional challenges right now. All I can hope is that I find my groove alone and that the satisfaction of hard work and the beauty of the Sierra will heal me.
Day 130 (September 16th)
Mile 723.4 – 745.1
Today: 21.7 miles
PCT hiked: 2252.4 miles
Tonight I am camped in between some lovely rocks with a great view of the sunset and the stars. The views are getting nicer as I climb higher. Beautiful rock formations… white gravel trail… giant, red-trunked trees. I passed several southbound hikers and briefly chatted with some of them. They were usually in a hurry as many of them were about to finish their hike, having flipped north from Kennedy Meadows in the spring. I had lunch in a beautiful spot with a great view of the valley 6000ft below. There was some cell service, and texting with Jake and my tramily helped to ease some of my loneliness.
I am hiking shorter miles than I have in the past because my feet are still very sore. I had hoped that some time off of them during our travel days would help, but it doesn’t seem to have. Every step is painful and I find myself walking on tip toe to try and prevent my tender heels from touching the ground. My ankles are stiff too, and moving them at all is very painful. Even wiggling my toes makes my muscles spasm all the way up to my knee. It’s disheartening and concerning… but, I remind myself, my feet have been hurting for hundreds of miles and I still have been able to hike. There is nothing wrong with moving slowly! I wish I could lighten up my backpack to ease the strain, but due to the cold nights, I really think I need everything I am carrying– and I wouldn’t be able to make any adjustments until I was in town anyway.
Tomorrow I will be entering Sequoia National Park, which is said to have some of the most beautiful scenery of the entire trail. I am looking forward to it!
Day 131 (September 17th)
Mile 745.1 – 767.5
Today: 23.4 miles
hiked: 2225.7 miles
I made it to Crabtree Campground– the base camp for Mount Whitney. I will post this post when I am at the top of Mount Whitney tomorrow, as that is when I will next have service. I hoped to get here early enough that I could get to sleep early and wake up at 1:30am for a sunrise hike, but unfortunately I didn’t get into camp until nearly 9pm. It wasn’t that the terrain was particularly hard– just that my feet were quite painful again today. 🙁 I did consider stopping before the campground and just hiking more tomorrow– but there were three river crossings this evening that had no dry cross option. I had to wade through, and I would rather do that tonight when my shoes have time to dry (at least somewhat) before Whitney.
One nice part of my day was actually chatting with some SNOBOs! It is so nice to just talk to someone after nearly 3 days of complete silence. They were super friendly and told me how beautiful the Sierras are and encouraged me to keep going.
I spent some time this morning walking without music or podcasts and just thinking about if I should continue on trail. Of course I want to get to Truckee and be able to say that I hiked the entire PCT, but I am finding that I am dreading the journey to get to that spot. Up until now, the journey has been the entire point, so this change of mentality is unsettling.
I also don’t want to tarnish this amazing hike that I have had by spending the last three weeks (and the most beautiful section) miserable and in pain. And I am in pain. I spend so much of my normal life ignoring my chronic back pain, that I sometimes start to question my ability to judge how painful something actually is. But my feet are currently in such constant agony that I can’t even focus on my audiobook and have to rewind all the time to hear what I missed, which indicates to me that the pain may be serious. People do walk themselves into fractures out here, and I definitely don’t want to do that.
Day 132 (September 18th)
Mile 767.5 – 767.5
Today: 16.2 miles
PCT miles hiked: 2275.8 miles
Today was a nearly perfect day on the PCT– sociable hikers, beautiful views, a sense of accomplishment, bizarrely kind trail magic, a perfect, bluebird day, and explosions! Except, I wasn’t actually on the PCT at all. Today I hiked the Mount Whitney side trail which is an out and back trail that climbs the highest peak in the contiguous USA. It is unofficially part of the PCT as PCT hikers are allowed to climb it from the PCT corridor without an additional permit.
Since I arrived late to camp last night, I decided that I didn’t want to do the sunrise climb that I had initially planned. Instead I decided to sleep in until 6am. But when I woke up, my wet socks, shoes and gaiters were frozen solid. I decided to have a little sleep in, so that it would be a bit warmer when I started hiking and I brought my frozen footwear into my sleeping bag to thaw them. I woke up at 6:30am and reveled in the lack of chores. Since the trail is out and back, I would be leaving my tent and sleep system here, set up, for when I returned. I packed my lunch and placed the remaining food in my bear can away from my tent, dug my morning cathole (no pooping allowed in the alpine as it doesn’t decompose– any emergency poops must be packed out, so I wanted nothing in my system!), then packed some warm clothes and put on my very light backpack.
Even slack packing, the climb up was very hard. The altitude was getting to me, despite the mountain sickness meds I was taking. I stopped every 15 steps to try and catch my breath. About a third of the way up the climb, I met another hiker named Trudge and we chatted briefly about her ascent. When I mentioned that I hadn’t really talked with anyone in several days, she was like “Want to talk? We can talk!” And came and sat down with me. We chatted for at least 40 minutes about the trail, ups and downs, challenges, and what the point of it really is. She told me that the section I am about to hike is beautiful and very challenging. It was just so nice to have a long, in-depth conversation with another person.
I continued up the mountain feeling a lot better. I continued to encounter other hikers on the way up. Many were day or weekenders, just there to summit Whitney. Others were John Muir Trail hikers (which starts or ends at Mt. Whitney) and a few were PCT hikers. The final push of the climb was a four-limbed rock scramble around a giant snowfield and up the final 50ft of ascent. When I reached the top it was like a carnival– people laughing and chatting, playing music, and astoundingly, a man cooking chicken and waffles for the crowd. Trail Magic! At the top of a 14000ft mountain. A mountain which you had to hike a minimum of 10 miles straight up to get to! And the man was cooking in, what looked like, a cast iron waffle pan!
As many of you know, I am vegan and I usually am not able to partake in trail magic. But today I decided on a new rule: I don’t ask what’s in waffles that are offered to me above 14000ft– especially when they come with real maple syrup! Turns out his name was Ben and he was the creator of Wild Eating and ran a YouTube channel where he cooked for strangers in hard to reach places.
I sat on the summit of Mount Whitney licking maple syrup off my hands, taking pictures with the sign, and texting with my friends (cell signal is the real reason I climb mountains!). I even got to call Jake!
As the crowd petered away, I soon found myself alone on the summit. It suddenly occurred to me that I was the highest person for thousands of miles in every direction– if no one was climbing the Canadian high peaks or Denali, then I might even be the highest person on the continent. I sat looking out at the incredible 360° views and thought about my hike. I was having such a nice day. It feels like it has been a while since I felt this content. I thought about the lessons I have learned on trail. I thought about why I am hiking. I thought about if I wanted to stop. I thought about home.
Finally, I realized that I needed to head back down the mountain if I wanted to make it before dark. On the way down, I found some lost day hikers and was able to direct them on the correct path. The hike down was swift and actually fun! Without a heavy pack, my feet felt much less painful and I was able to skip down the rocks at a good pace. I was going to make it back well before dark!
Then I ran into Ranger Chris. She was stationed about halfway down the switchbacks and she stopped me to tell me that I would need to wait a little while because trail crews were blasting some rocks that were blocking the path below. Okay! I sat down with her and looked out at the valley and the lakes below. Golden hour was just beginning and it was so beautiful. Chris told me that she had been a ranger for 16 seasons, living in the wilderness in a ranger cabin without running water, electricity or even cell service! She spends her days patrolling, doing trail maintenance, helping with rescues, and chatting with hikers. The blasting took a long time to take place, so we sat and chatted for about an hour. I asked what she eats and how she gets supplies and she told me that all her food for the season gets dropped off by mule or helicopter in June. Nothing fresh. I suddenly realized that I had half an avocado that I had not finished at lunch. It wouldn’t last long in my pack, so I offered it to ranger Chris. She took it gratefully and said that avocados were a hot commodity among rangers! Suddenly we heard some final checks over her radio. “Blasting in 5!” We counted down. Someone yelled “Fire in the hole!”. Boom! The sound echoed across the valley and rock dust was thrown high up into the air. Time to go! We continued down the mountain and took a look at their handiwork. The offending rock was gone, leaving dust and unstable ground in its wake. The maintenance crews would fix that too.
I continued down the mountain under the setting sun. Everything was beautiful. Blue lakes, golden skies, adorable marmots running around. I realized that I would likely arrive at camp after dark, but since my camp was already set up, it didn’t bother me. I’ve often said that I like hiking at night– I just don’t like setting my tent up in the dark. But today I didn’t have to! I arrived at my little home just as it was getting too dark to hike without a headlamp and I cooked a quick dinner.
It really was a nearly perfect day that reminded me of all the things I have loved about the PCT.
Day 133 (September 19th)
Mile 767.5 – 787.3
Today: 19.8 miles
PCT miles hiked: 2295.6 miles
Yesterday, while alone in the summit of Mt. Whitney, I made the decision to end my hike when I reach Kearsarge Pass tomorrow. This morning, I woke up very cold to a tent coated in a sheet of ice and I felt very comfortable with my decision. My confidence in my decision fluctuated throughout the day. I had a really nice chat with some sobo hikers and felt happy to be on trail. I climbed Forester Pass (the first major high pass of the Sierras and the highest point on the PCT) with aching feet and felt relieved to know the pain was near its end despite being surrounded by unbelievable beauty. I ran into Crash, an old friend from the desert and wondered how many other reunions I would be missing out on. I stepped on a sharp rock and fell to my butt and thought about how nice it would be to give my feet a rest. I watched a glorious sunset on the mountains and ate dinner as the stars came out and knew I would miss trail deeply.
If you have been following my posts, you likely realize that this was not an easy decision for me, but ultimately, I think this is the right choice.
The trail has taught me some big lessons that helped me to make this decision:
It’s the people.
Whether or not you hike with a trail family, I think most thru hikers learn this lesson. The trail is beautiful, challenging and exciting, but it is not nearly as special without the amazing trail community that brings it to life. Trail Angels supporting hikers with rides, places to stay and trail magic. Trail town locals who ask after our hikes, wish us luck, and sometimes even buy us a beer. Other hikers who say hello, smile at you, give you beta on whats to come and occasionally become good friends. Even the most miserable moment on trail can become funny and exciting when shared with other hikers! And the beautiful moments are so much more special to me when I get to share them with dear friends. This week has been quite lonely. Unfortunately, it seems like I am the only person hiking North on this trail. I started the PCT expecting a great solo expedition. However, I’ve learned that– though I am capable of hiking and camping alone– life is much more joyful with loved ones around. I miss my friends and family after over four months on trail. I miss Jake. This section of trail is so beautiful and I want to share it with people I love. I hope that I can come back again to explore these miles with loved ones in the future.
Listen to your body.
Like many women, I have had problems with body image. I have often criticized my body for being the wrong shape or size. I have fed my body insufficient calories and demanded that it continue to perform. I have gone without sleep too often. But on trail, your body is so important to your success and wellbeing that you have to respect it. Failure to take good care of yourself has consequences! Hiker hunger is a great example. On trail, you eat when you are hungry… and when you’re tired… and when you’re cold. Fuel for your body is nearly always the answer. You don’t think about calories, except to wonder if you have enough in your bag. There is no good food or bad food. Sour patch kids will fuel you for a quick burst of energy, but dried mango is a better bet for more sustained fuel. I don’t think this hike has erased the impacts or diet culture from my brain, but it has certainly taught me some important lessons about my relationship with food. Sleep is also so important to hikers. A surefire way to make enemies in the thru-hiker community is to be loud in camp after sunset. You also take note when anything is off with your body. Thirsty, gassy, sore, cold? All these sensations deserve your attention. Your body is doing so much for you: carrying you across a country, growing strong… the least you can do is take good care of it. As my feet continue to become more painful, I am realizing that it is unrealistic to expect to keep hiking on them. With winter fast approaching, slowing down or resting off trail is not really an option. Despite my best efforts, they *hurt* all the time and it is my job to pay attention to these messages from my body. My feet (and really all of me) need rest.
It’s the journey.
One of the hardest parts about leaving trail without hiking every single mile is that I have been lusting after that elusive sense of pride that comes with being (capital F) Finished for months. But ultimately, the point of this adventure wasn’t to get to the end, it was to experience the journey. And I have experienced the journey. I have had the most incredible adventure over the past 4 months. I have met people that I hope to love for the rest of my life. I have hiked through rain, hail, thunder, and laughed through it all. I have skinny dipped in lakes in three states. I have put my complete trust in strangers every time I get into their car or stayed at their house. I have pushed my body to it’s limit on more than one occasion and crawled into my sleeping bag exhausted and fulfilled. I have felt more and stronger emotions this summer than I have in the past 10 years of my life (at least).
I am terrified to go home and risk losing the raw, vibrant way of living that I have discovered out here. But I am also so excited to bring this new perspective home with me. So, yes, it is a little sad not to hike the next 300 miles and walk into Truckee knowing I have covered every mile. But ultimately, that’s not why I am out here. The trail provides, and it has given me everything I could have hoped. I am so proud of what I have accomplished and I am so excited to come home!
Day 134 (September 20th)
Mile 787.3 – 790.1
Today: 10.2 miles
PCT miles hiked: 2305.7 miles
People weren’t kidding– this really is the most beautiful section of trail for scenery. The mountains catching the morning light is one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen. Seeing the world at this grand of a scale is so special. It’s hard to leave. Even after my weeks of weighing the pros and cons, even with my painful feet, even with my epiphanies atop Mt. Whitney, even knowing I’ll get to go home… it’s still hard to leave. I’ve made a little home out here these past months. My tent is a cozy place filled with happy memories. My sleep system is as comfortable as any bed. My family is out here, still hiking. I’ll miss it. Maybe as much as I’ve missed my home with Jake while I have been away.
I’ve never been good at endings. It is actually kind of nice that this is not an ending– just a pause. I’ll be back someday. I’ll put my feet on the PCT again and follow the current North. Maybe I’ll hike with my tramily again. I’ll certainly sleep in my cozy tent again. I’ll always have this place and these memories. It’s nice to know that a line in the dirt and rock and sand can be as much a home for me as any apartment or house has been.
And to you, dear reader, thank you for following my journey! Your readership has encouraged me to keep up these journals and to think deeply throughout this experience. I hope you have enjoyed the reading as much as I have enjoyed the writing.
I am off trail now in the town of Bishop and I will begin my preparations to come home to Guelph. I hope to see many of you soon!
