Riv's 2015 PCT, Day 28, July 23, Part 2

Photo 5. In the distance another volcano (that looks pristine and in-erupted to me, though people tell me it has erupted. ). Mt McLoughlin. 

Photo 6. More lava and more lava. Endless lava. 

Photo 7. My sweet tentsite by Fish Lake. Though I felt guilty about disliking the trail and hiking toward a goal, this turned out to be a beautiful place to be. I had a delicious hamburger with cooked jalapeños and avocados, a salad, soup and a local beer. For desert a Haagen Dazs bar and Reece peanut butter cups. The waitress was a gifted appreciator, constantly commenting and noticing everything: my smile, how pretty the cook made the plate look. It is funny how people who love what they do spread happiness to everyone around them. 

Photo 8. Grock, 40/something hiker doing his second PCT thru/hike. He has also hiked the Appalachian twice, and a number of other trails. He gave me a beer (and accepted a Reece peanut butter cup) and we had a thoughtful and I thought close conversation about families and relationships as the sun went down on the campsite we are sharing. 

It is dark now. I am sitting in my tent feeling very deeply contented. I don't know if I will wake early and hitch back to the trail (or hike the two-mile spur trail back) or sleep late, eat breakfast, maybe even swim in the lake. I love that I got to shower and do a laundry (tho all without soap -- due to my sensitive skin I only use the "special" soap I send in resupply boxes, and this was between resupplies.) I love that I had a good dinner. 

I ran into the boys again (Happy, Commando, Water Boy) here, but no longer seem under the spell of the Mother complex in relation to them. 

I hope you are happy in your trails --whether pausing and being in the moment, or striving toward the goal. And I thank you as always, more than I can ever express or you can ever know, your interest and witness makes it possible for me to discover the mysteries and beauties ( and yes,the boredoms and annoyances) of the trail. 

Bye for now. 

Riv's 2015 PCT, day 28, July 23, part 1

Day 28, Thursday, July 23. From PCT mile 1751.82, elev. 5414, walked 19.05 mi. to Fish Lake Resort (a 2-mile hitch hike on highway 140), PCT mile 1770.89, elev. 4970,  Total up/down +1768/-2248.

Dear Trail Friends,

An odd day. Instead of taking it slow, I pushed myself to walk faster and further, because for some reason the notion of a shower and laundry and hot meal between resupply stops totally captured my imagination. 

I could say it was the mother complex still at the wheel. Instead of following around the beautiful young boys who seemed to need a woman's attention, I was drawn to the fantasy of having someone feed and attend to me. It's all that archetype, isn't it, of the mother, that dream of an Eden before the fall. (Whether one imagines having the power to bestow it on others, or bring the recipient, it's all about paradise. )

I did not particularly like this section of the trail. I suppose I was enjoying it at first -- reflecting on the thick trees and sense of being in deep woods, glimpses of blue sky here and there. Looking as far as the eye could see, trees and more trees. Very different from the expanse of mountain.

I was thinking it's no big deal to walk twenty miles a day here in Oregon on this soft smooth dirt trail. How gentle and kind and soft it is on the feet. Not like those rough rocky trails I've hiked so much in California.

No sooner did I think that than I was hiking through great fields of hardened volcanic lava. And that went on and on and on, mile after mile, with interludes of trees and shades and then stretches exposed to the sun and big black hardened lava rocks as far as the eye could see. 

I was bored with the trail. My feet hurt. (They kept reminding me to take breaks and rest in my inverted posture -- it truly helps my feet and my whole body). And the summer of insects had started -- four welts from mosquito bites on my right ankle despite careful use of my (herbal) repellant. 

Realizing I am just going to have to put up with bug bites, while doing my best to minimize them. Big ants, little ants crawling all over my body and gear and into my food bags. Yellow jackets --a herd of them -- actually probably 3 or 4 but as they buzz and zoom they sure seem like a lot more, really in my face while I am eating and clearly more influenced by the attractant (food) than the repellant. Deciding I will do more of my reorganizing food ( moving the days bars, cheese, and beef jerky out of the smell-proof bags in my backpack into the small smell-proof bag in my waistpack) inside my tent. I've tried at least in principle to avoid food smells in the tent, so as not to attract bears. But the truth is I am far more concerned now about bugs than bears. 

Photo 1: at first the lava rocks intrigued me. I wondered when the eruption was and how the liquid lava flow had transformed itself into these separate hard-edged rocks. I tried to imagine what it would be like to witness the lava flow ( though I realize anyone who witnessed it would probably be killed. ) [by the way, a visit to Wikipedia suggests that this mountain, Brown Mountain, last erupted 2000 years ago.]

Photo 2. I wondered if it would be fun to imagine the lava moving in waves, and Bonnie riding a wave of lava. So this was a tentative candidate for Bonnie's Wave. 

Photo 3. More lava. Miles and miles of lava. I thought about hell. Eternal fire. A place where nothing changes. That's how I started to feel about these endless fields of lava. 

Photo 4  The trail through the lava field has been meticulously maintained. Who brought in and spread this red (also lava rock, I think, but clearly not from right here -- it makes the trail clearly visible. I was struck that the trail itself is sinuous like a snake or a wave as it moves through the lava. Maybe this could be Bonnie's wave today?

To be continued in Part 2

Riv's 2015 PCT. Day 27, July 22

Day 27, Wednesday, July 22. From Tentsite at PCT mile 1731.31. elev. 4787, walked 20.46 mi to tentsite at PCT mile 1751.82, elev. 5414.  Total up/down: +3295/-2635. 

Dear Trail Friends,

I am sitting in my tent in the pre-dawn dark with my headlamp on. I have just finished "first breakfast."  It is amazing how I wake up often thinking "isn't it 4am yet? Isn't it time to get up?" Every morning on the trail, I am like a little child on Christmas morning. For someone who has wrestled lifelong with a tendency toward depression, what a revelation to discover that every day can feel like a new wonderful present just waiting to be unwrapped. 

My headlamp is so bright! I had new batteries in my last resupply box, and had not yet used the ones I had. So I changed the batteries, kept one set of spares and put the rest into the "hiker box" (where we leave things other hikers might use). I didn't realize how much my headlamp had dimmed as the battery aged. From now on I think I will change it every 2-3 weeks. 

Despite my breakthrough discovery that I could manage the anxiety and live spontaneously with regard to tentsite, I have already checked on tentsites listed in the app and decided to stay at a county campground with coin-operated showers. What a treat to have a shower just 2 days into my hike. And although I can handle the anxiety of spontaneity, I'm not sure I really want to!

Later: here I am in my tent and, as so often happens, the trail brought some surprises.  But first:

Photo 1: the dawn sky as I began my hike. 

Photo 2: Noticing how much labor has gone into building and maintaining this trail. Wondering who did the work, and silently thanking them.  Wishing, when I walk through the "trail" of my ordinary civilized life, I could be this keenly aware of how the work of others makes my walk possible, and feel as grateful. 

Photo 3:  coming up out of thick woods into this clearing and seeing not only mountains and a lake and an expansive view, but also civilization, I was surprised (and touched) that I was moved (in a physical way, as I am so often by the natural world) by its visible presence.  Also realized it explained my having been able to get a cell signal and briefly talk with Chris. 

Photo 4:  I wish this photo conveyed the movement in the original. This field of bent over gold grass had a look of water, fluid movement, flowing around the rocks. It reminded me of Japanese gardens in which the sand seems to flow around the rocks. This gold grass fluidity is my choice for Bonnie's wave today. 

Photo 5.  This remarkable family turned my day topsy turvey. (This was the big surprise on the trail for today). We met fairly early and kept playing leap frog (they walk faster than I do, but I would pass them during their breaks, as they also passed me during mine. ) I was very moved that the boys remembered my name (I didn't even try to remember all six names) and greeted me. So I decided if I saw them again I would take a photo and write down all the names. 

Then I overtook them (they must have just gotten up from a break) and I thought they were stopping for water soon (and so a photo opp) and I struggled to keep up with them. The older boy kept turning and talking to me, as they both had done earlier, and I thought I sensed, a longing for a woman's attention and witnessing. I thought they might be missing their mother. I was struggling so hard to keep up with them I didn't realize I missed the turn off to my campground until we were past it. You probably know I hate to backtrack. 

So forward I went, looking for a tentsite in an area where the apps do not mention any -- and getting more and more anxious. I finally found a slightly sloped area that I could clear of branches and use.  

As I walked in search of a campsite, I thought about how I had lost my own hike, in a way, my own plan, and I realized that what I took to be compassion for the boys' possible need for substitute-mothering attention was actually my need to be needed by a child. My own deep wound around not being a mother, and a sense of having messed up the substitute relationships in which I explored nurturing others: therapy, being an aunt, grandmother, mentor to young people. It's an area in which I  can be harshly critical of myself, can see myself as "not enough," (and in fact as defective and undeserving).  So, how interesting to see how, when that archetypal mother wound was touched, I totally lost track of my hike. 

All that aside, this is a charming family, and their goal is to hike all of the Oregon PCT in 30 days.  The dogs are all in some sense rescue dogs, troubled or neglected dogs with no adoption options, whom they have taken into their home and family (and now, into their hike.)

Says Dad, trail name "Happy,":

"It wouldn't be the same hike without the dogs. They are such wonderful companions."

The older brother is "Commando," the younger "Water Boy." The dogs from left to right are Houdini May (who was feral up until just a few months ago when they adopted her), Shoeless Joe, and Floppy Gus. 

If you fall in love with this family's photo, you can visit their blog at 

longdogwalk.com. (Hope I got that right). Water Boy kept showing me his photos -- they are excellent. 

So that's all for now. Happy Trails to you til we meet again. 

Riv's 2015 PCT, Day 26, July 21, part 1

Day 26, Tuesday, July 21. From PCT mi 1716,18, elev. 4216 [note:(to honor the purist in me): I skipped mile 1715.17 to 1716,18, when I decided to return to the trail via the road  walk rather than the steep (and rather unpleasant) spur trail I followed down from the PCT trail to Callahans], walked 15.12  Miles to PCT mile 1731.31. elev. 4787. Total up/Down: +2812/-2241. (Also walked ,8 miles from Calkahan's to the PCT, and if I include that non-PCT Portion, the gps app gives total up/down as +3052/-2234. So as usual on the PCT there were up's and down's. )

Dear Trail Friends,

It is after 7pm and I am sitting inside my tent at my first tentsite for this section from Callahan's/Ashland,OR to Crater Lake. I am feeling rather pleased with myself. Conversations with other hikers, especially Barbara, made me realize how much I have begun to plan ahead where I will sleep based on tentsites listed on the apps. I used to do what Barbara does-- just hike til evening and I was ready for bed, and then look for a site. So I did that today, partly by accident and partly because I think getting over controlling and giving up spontaneity is not the way I want to hike my hike. I noticed that I felt VERY anxious (the apps had no tentsites until 20 miles which is a bit too much for me) and I kept saying to myself "the trail will provide" and then answering "yeah but WHAT will it provide? The opportunity to hike all night and realize I am capable of it (or not)?"

 But I reminded myself of my first hike starting at Campo at the border with Mexico and how Meander mentored me and we each just hiked and looked for a spot flat enough to camp on -- it didn't have to be a site that had clearly been used repeatedly. Anyway, a site did appear and really quite early in my search. A good feeling. 

I'm just back from eating my dinner in a lovely grassy meadow near the tent site. Tall gold grass, not green grass. There's been a lot of that today. Reminds me of the hills around Sacramento with their golden grass and a poem I wrote probably nearly 30 years ago called The Woman Who Rides the Hills". Wish I had my computer and could copy the poem for you. If you cannot live without seeing the poem, you will find it in "The Woman Who..." Section of my selected poems (Magic Carpet, by River Mary Malcolm, oh -- I was going to give you the link on Amazon but of course I dont have cell coverage or Internet access. )

While the gold grass awakened memories of California, there was wild grape and the form of that plant (whose name is something like ocean spray or sea foam) we have at home, awakening memories of Orcas. I notice so few plants, and know even fewer by name. But it is still wonderful to see these few I do recognize creating a sense of "inbetween" landscapes mixing up the landscape of my childhood love and that of my mature adulthood love. 

Photo 1: The Serene Green Dragon

Photos 2, 3, 4. Gold grass -- at my first rest stop and just beyond. 

To be continued in Part 2

Riv's 2015 PCT, Day 26, July 21, part 2

Photo 5. A hiker named Cruise Control stops to visit me in my rest stop in the shelter of a very mossy tree. He is an automotive technician but got his trail name when cruising high speed toward the Paradise Cafe (near Idyllwild) ready for a hot meal. (Fun for me to recall my own memories of Paradise Cafe). 

Photo 6. Looking up at my mossy tree from, as we used to call it my yoga days, my "inverted posture"

Photo 7. A really special one of these fluffy seed balls -- I forget what to call them. After I took the photo I noticed all the others were just as special. 

 Photo 8. An adventurous seed from one of those fluff balls with its parasol, whose design reminds me of a spider web (a design I have always admired, and by the way, I once wrote a poem about that...what am I trying to do, sell you my poetry books?)

Photo 9. Bonnie's Wave for today -- not even a rain cloud in sight ( though I hear there is a small wildfire in central Oregon near the PCT -- may it be contained). 

So much for my limit of 6 photos. So many things I thought of telling you while I was walking, to help you really imagine being here. But now, honestly, I'm tired and I want to just lie down and close my eyes. 

So goodnight and sweet dreams and thank you as always for walking with me. I have never been as happy as I am, sometimes, on the trail and being alone is a big part of it but I really wouldn't be able to fully enjoy the experience of being alone without having you to share it with. I thank you with all my heart -- which feels at this moment like that saying "a heart as big as all outdoors. "

Riv's 2015 PCT, Day 25, July 20

Day 25, Monday, July 20. ZERO Day at PCT mi 1715.17, elev. 4481 (spur trail to Callahan's Siskiyou Lodge, Ashland, OR)

Dear Trail Friends,

I am sitting on the sun deck of the restaurant at Callahan's where I have just had a lovely visit with a hiker named Tower who remembers having dinner with me in Lone Pine (in the Sierra) in 2013. I wish I could remember -- but I really have learned to live with my memory losses and it was fun to have him remember and share what he remembered. 

Now I am heading back to my room to be sure I am set for tomorrow. I have a massage therapist coming at 3pm (my body made a special request for a massage -- something I almost never do -- but Callahan's had no lead. Then my friend Judith called a friend who teaches massage who put out a message--not sure how probably a website or listserve--and like magic I have an appointment. 

Also magical my friend Barbara who is hiking with her dog Angel arrives tonight so we've moved up our date so it will be dinner tonight and I can leave early tomorrow. This morning on the contrary I slept til after 8pm then soaked in the whirlpool tub with a cup of coffee. Actually didn't show up at restaurant til too late for breakfast! I had a delicious hamburger with bacon and avocado (and iceberg lettuce as my gluten free bun, first time I tried that; fabulous) and am now totally enjoying another strawberry milk shake. 

Now it is almost 6pm and I am thinking about the photos I did not take. Tower and I had a wonderful conversation (uncanny how Chris is presenting tomorrow at Jung on the Hudson on jealousy, and so many of my conversations today seem to be about love triangles, and how Chris' lecture on jealousy deepens my appreciation of how important triangles an be our lives). 

I wish I took a photo of him. 

And thanks to Judith I received a massage from a delightful young woman named Megan, a lifelong hiker and backpacker (as is her mother). We had wonderful conversation about the Camino and the PCT, and also about love triangles. I wish I took a photo of her. 

Dinner was great. Barbara arrived with her wonderful blue heeler/catahoula leopard dog mix, Angel, and we had dinner together. And Judith and I had such a great time last night that she came back and joined us. It was a delightful evening and I'm glad I did get a photo. 

Photo 1 and only: Judith, Barbara, river, Angel sharing a wonderful dinner and evening at Callahan's. 

Tomorrow I go back to the trail. Much angst about whether to take the purist route and return by the little spur trail -- very steep, and passing through an area that looks and smells like a dump. Or whether to simply walk along the road to where the trail crosses it --  an easier pleasanter walk, but it means not walking a short distance of the actual trail. I know that somewhere, maybe Lone Pine, I returned by a different trail than the one I came down, and missed a very small stretch of trail. Didn't bother me then, or bother me now that I skipped it then, so why does skipping a little bother me now?  These things aren't rational --but a lot of our dinner conversation was about our need for safe cozy boxes to live inside (including tents) vs being free to live toward enjoyment and desire. I will be interested to see what I'll actually do tomorrow. I did ask a hiker for directions on the road walk, so that I would have that option. 

Enough. Thank you as always -- not for walking with me, but for stopping to rest with me and savor the comforts of civilization. 

Bye for now. 

Riv's 2015 PCT, day 24, July 19

Day 24, Sunday, July 19. From PCT mi 1709.97, elev. 5889, walked 5.18 mi to PCT mi 1715.17, elev. 4481 (spur trail to Callahan's Siskiyou Lodge, Ashland, OR). - total up/down: +451/-1859ft.

Dear Trail-mates,

Wow. Mile 1715 marks the 300 mile mark in what I hope will be a pilgrimage of 1000 miles. I woke this morning early, had a leisurely "first breakfast" of cheese, homemade beef jerky, homemade breakfast bar (oats, almonds, flax, protein powder, instant coffee, cocoa powder, honey) and my beloved Starbucks Italian Roast Via. I gradually packed up, took down my tent, and as far as I know, did not lose anything. 

Photo 1.  There she is again. Mt Shasta in dawn light  -- Bonnie's Wave. 

Photo 2.  Mt Shasta and ??? I forget the name of this odd little peak that for a couple of days seemed associated with cell coverage-- when I could see it, I had coverage. 

I stopped for "second breakfast" at a picnic table and faucet where I refilled my water bottles. 

Photo 3. "Trail Magic." The term usually refers to the generous surprises created by trail Angels. I came across some of that yesterday just as I reached the high point (almost 7000 ft I think) there were two ice chests (labeled "for long distance PCT hikers" packed with fresh fruit, soft drinks, and granola bars. I took an orange (leaving the peel in a big garbage bag weighted down and clamped shut with two heavy rocks). I enjoyed the surprise gift and thoughtfulness and thought about how the PCTA (PCT Association) has formally opposed water caches and caches of food/trail magic both because of their concern inexperienced hikers may rely on them (and with increasing hiker traffic it will not be possible to keep them consistently supplied) and because they may not be compatible with "leave no trace" ethics, particularly by attracting wildlife and endangering animals that get habituated to human food and become nuisances that need to be killed. All interesting to think about -- as usual truth on both sides. 

This morning though noticing how that slant morning sun I love was touching everything with silver, I thought "THIS is the real trail magic." hence this photo. 

I arrived at Callahan's and was immediately taken with the beautiful and meticulously maintained wooden building, the flower beds, the decks. I arrived about 8:30, had breakfast )a delicious smoked salmon scramble on grilled tomatoes), and sorted my resupply boxes-- which took forever. They allow PCT hikers to hang out in a conference room which gave me plenty of space to sort. (Though it doubles as an office space and when they had a meeting about bookkeeping tangles I had to put in earplugs or I couldn't track my sorting. (Something I'm not that great at in the best of circumstances.)

At 2 pm my room was available.

Photo 4: my deck

Photo 5: my bathtub and fireplace

I had a wonderful shower -- how marvelous it feels to get clean again -- started my laundry, then came to have lunch, a strawberry milkshake with s Mediterranean salad for dessert. 

Photo 6. Strawberry milkshake with flower box. The waiter recommended it saying it was made with purée of fresh strawberries. It was a wonderful choice. Maybe Bonnie's Wave of the day could be that swell of whipped cream? Move aside, maraschino cherry. 

Photo 7. My friend Judith Cope and I. Judith and I met when we both lived in San Diego and both worked as tech writers. We kept in touch after Chris and I moved to Orcas (and Judith to Ashland and for awhile Mt Shasta). But it has been about 15 years since we've seen each other. We had dinner together - shared a whole bottle of wine - rich and deep conversation. Judith's passion these last 15 years has been rowing (as part of an adult women's crew teams that have competed, and won a lot, all over the country. When Judith and I were growing up there was no way for athletically gifted and passionate girls to express their passion and connect with others around it; this adult rowing has allowed her to live out this essential missing piece. I didn't even know if we would recognize each other. We were both surprised by how much the same we both looked but we are also aware of growing older and it was good to talk about that -- our hopes and concerns about it.  Judith not only treated me to a wonderful dinner; she also picked up a bunch of things I need for he trail and brought them to me. 

Tomorrows a zero day. Stay tuned. 

Riv

Riv's 2015 PCT, Day 23, July 18

Day 23, Saturday, July 18, from PCT mi 1700.10, elev. 5975  walked 9.85 mi to PCT mi 1709.97, elev. 5889,  - total up/down: +1555/-1640ft.
 

Dear Trail-mates,

I did it! I resisted the strong impulse to hike the remaining 5 1/4 miles to the spur trail to Callahan's Siskiyou Lodge where I will spend my zero day(s). Instead here I am in my tent in the woods. 

I hiked less than 10 miles. And I stopped. The morning was sweet. Many stops, lots of slow quiet time. Particularly sweet was quiet time shared with Daniel the clear and quiet-eyed Buddhist monk (looking into his eyes is like looking into a clear in disturbed pool where you can see everything at the bottom). We talked about how he came to Buddhist practice, how hard it was for him, how he liked the ways it changed him. It caused me to remember how deeply involved with vipassana meditation I was just before Mary died. Yoga too. Psychedelic drugs ( a little). It is complicated to sort out how she died, why, what was cause, what was effect. Anyway, it's interesting to realize that the aversion I feel toward Buddhism (to which I am also attracted) may be related to that time when my practice possibly was a factor in -- in what? The death of Mary? Paranormal consciousness states? Mental illness? 

As I walk this pilgrimage -- oh my god, I forgot to tell you, grandson-in-law Justin's Filipino folklore to animated film project got fully funded! Thank you thank you to all who contributed with pledges and/or sending prayers and wishes his way. And sister Bonnie is riding her wave ( with an 85% reduction in tumor size). The third thing this pilgrimage is about for me (besides discovering as I walk one step, one breath, one vista at a time, what it is about) is self-compassion and life integration. My friend Kathi is interested in self-biography and that seems closely related. So I am glad to have time and space to reflect on the most troubling and mysterious time of my life. 

A funny day. I lost a tent stake. Know I had it last night. Searched and searched and searched before I left the tent site but never found it. Then I lost a sock. After losing and recovering my foam pad yesterday, this looks like a bit of a trend. (The prof. Freud of my imagination suggests this may express desire to leave the trail - losing things that in various ways represent and embody my safety and sense of security on the trail. Also death wish, desire NOT to be safe. I didn't find it all that illuminating. But interesting it occurs as I try to slow down and do less. I could daily I just get less focused, less adrenaline, more ADD symptoms. I know I'm an adrenaline junkie; that's why I loved emergency work. 

On the other hand I met a thru hiker today I didn't like much. He spoke of hiking thru the snow storm in the Sierra, cold wet feet, no visible trail. He spoke with contempt of hikers who skipped the Sierra and would return to do it later. "Glorified section hikers," he sneered. "They lost a lot of status on the hiker community. A thru hiker jokes thru no matter the conditions. A thru hiker doesn't skip around. ". He went on a rant and I kept stretching to see and validate his viewpoint until finally I told him "I see your point of view but actually I don't agree. And now I'd like to slow down and hike my own hike. " he accelerated his pace and disappeared and I was very relieved. How different from being with Daniel, put here for four days, pulling out a color leaflet that identifies all the wildflowers. Or the birdwatcher I met who pointed out a white headed woodpecker I couldn't quite see, very rare, he said, his head is pure white and his body very dark. 

It's fun to have a villain isn't it? I never learned the Bad Thru Hiker's name. He told me but I couldn't quite understand it. 

I met other people too. A couple who have walked he Camino many times and would like to walk the PCT. or he would. She is reluctant. They've been together just over 30 years and her name is Christine and she is from Germany!

And a woman turning 80 hiking with her granddaughter whose dream is to hike the Camino. I'm close to Ashland and the I-5 crossing. Lots of day hikers. 

Not only did I lose a sock and a tent stake but I forgot to take pictures. 

So we'll have to make do with my tent site. 

Photo 1: me at my tent site. 

Photo 2: evening shadows -- that almost horizontal light just before sunset at my tentsite. 

Photo 3. My pack and sticks at the tentsite. 

Photo 4. Elevating my feet. This time against a big beautiful granite Boulder. Bonnie's Wave seen from upside down. 

Photo 5. Riv lying in the ground with feet in the air. It's the "foot soldiers" who ask for this, but my whole body loves it. Makes me feel grounded and calm. That yellow "dry sack" (they roll up and clasp and supposedly protect what's inside from getting wet) is for my clothes (socks and underwear I'm not wearing, long wool underwear, down booties for night, down puffy for night--it's also where I keep my id and money when I'm not in town. And my night shades and earplugs. Which I rarely use but sometimes need. ) and serves as my pillow, both at night and when I put my feet up in what I think of as my inverted pose. It isn't the headstand but it has a yogic feel, and calm. Deep calm. In this photo if you look carefully under the right arm you glimpse the gray foam mat I lost and found yesterday. As for the lost sock and tent stake, I called REI and ordered them ( I had of course to buy two socks but was surprised I could order a single tent stake. ) and they are on their way to meet me at Crater Lake July 28. At first the stake wasn't due to arrive til the 28th (the socks, shipped from a different location, was due the 23rd so we both felt secure it would be there on time) then Lorne the customer service guy suggested we try the mini version of the stake and sure enough it was shipped from the closer place and predicted to arrive July 23. Then Lorne asked if I'd ever been to Crater Lake (no) and told me it was dry beautiful and one of his favorite places in the world. So now I am very excited about walking toward Crater Lake. Maybe that's why I lost the sock and the stake. So I could connect with Lorne's love for Crater Lake. 

So that's it for tonight. Tomorrow I hike to Callahans and I probably will stay for two zero days. We will see what wins out, River's restless desire to move on or her desire to see Barbara and her dog Angel again (they planned to arrive July 21). 

Buy for now, trail Angels and friends. Thank you for all your support. It does feel like you are "there" and we made the leap from email to blog 

Hugs and sweet dreams. 

Riv's 2015 PCT, Day 22, July 17

   

Day 22, Friday, July 17. From PCT mi 1689.56,  elev. 6237,  walked 10.54 mi  to PCT mi 1700.10. - total up/down: +1587/-1809ft.  (plus backtracking and rehiking from mile 1698.17 to PCT mi 1694.65, 3.51 mi in each direction for combined total 7 mi, - total up/down: +/-849 ft. for a grand total, including the excursion to recover my lost foam mat and the actual hike, of 17.54 mi, +2536/-2658. )

Dear Trail-mates,

I am sitting at my first rest stop, only slightly more than 2 miles into my hike. Today would appear to be an easy day: the weather seems perfect --blue skies and a few delicate clouds, neither too hot not too cold; the mileage is very low; there are no major climbs. 

But this will be a major challenge for me. I am recalling Chris' statement in my dream last week "They need to do BOTH more AND less."  The doing more I am fairly good at, even when exhausted. My adrenaline and sheer stubbornness get mobilized,the effort is a salve to my guilty conscious for all the unfinished projects, dreams, loves of my life, all the unkept promises, all the failed enterprise. I can invent or discover a thousand rational excuses for why it makes sense to do more,but beneath it I go suspect is a powerful drive that is indifferent to rationality. 

But ask me to do less and I must encounter the demons of restlessness and boredom--and all the demons that lurk beneath the surface of those seemingly (relatively) innocuous states. 

So today may be a challenge (and I may in the end fail, I may come up, as I did yesterday, with a perfectly reasonable excuse to do more) and I want to share with you my celebration of this first baby step. 

Here I sit resting and sipping coffee at my first "extra" rest stop. I am not getting water (that's almost 2 miles up the trail) not eating a meal. I am simply stopping to sit and be. I am watching the slant morning sun slide up and down the diagonals of spider webs; watching birds flit from tree to tree while the morning sun shines through and lights up their wings (in a way that suggests the luminescent wings of moths circling a light, and also what the wings of angels might look like: wings and feathers of light); noticing flowers that seem to grow out of rock, hearing a cow moo in the valley below me and a bird chatter nearby, the occasional him or buzz of an insect or fly, the wonderful heart-strumming whir of a passing hummingbird. I am also diligently drinking not than my usual early morning share of the day's coffee so I can make more at the next rest stop and not have to carry the extra water to make it later. (It just occurred to me--duh--that my reasoning is faulty. I will carry that 12 oz. in either case, whether as water or coffee. But I am going to pretend I didn't figure that out, because at this moment the caffeine high-- which is usually an ally of adrenaline and the surge to do more--is sharpening my senses and helping me to sit here and be quiet and still and do nothing and simply take in what is happening around me. Ah the warm morning sun. The cool breeze. The buzz of a fly. The cow mooing. The morning sun on for boughs. How good it is to be alive. This is one of those times when less really is more (a hummingbird whirs just a foot or two from my right ear. I not only hear but feel the rapid pulse of her wings in my ear. ) 

Photo 1. This perfectly ordinary scene of my first rest stop which comes alive with the magic of presence when I pause and open myself to the moment. (I am thinking of the guidelines of the Insight Dialogue practice -- a form of interpersonal Buddhist-inspired meditation that I have found moving and rich --pause, relax, open, trust emergence, listen deeply, speak the truth. Good guidelines for the trail, perhaps? At least on the days when I am trying to learn the practice of doing less. ) 

An aside (as if all my writing weren't digressive): I woke at 4 this morning and though I encouraged myself to go back to sleep until 6 or 7 or even 8, I was ready to go. (Partly because I would need soon to poop and I didn't like the idea of getting into shoes, getting out of the tent, and coming back to bed. For some reason it was much more appealing to pack up, put on shoes, collapse the tent, then dog my cathole and do my pooping and get on with my morning. This seems a bit odd it is how I usually feel early in the morning if I need to pee or poop.) so I started walking at 5:15am with my headlamps ( I have two ultralight and ultra-tiny headlamps, one as a backup should the other fail. One suffices for packing gear but the two together -- one pointing down toward the trail just in front of my feet, one aimed 8-10 feet, or further, ahead -- much better for hiking in the dark. 

I felt wonderful. The ascents were invigorating. Nothing like the last two days with the elevation symptoms. The difference is amazing and suggests adaptation is the issue. I like to think this means iron supplements will significantly decrease the problem. At one point I had very faint whiff of the symptoms and noticed I was hiking at 7000 ft -- a higher elevation than I had yet had the opportunity to adapt to. Bodies are very interesting. This business of grabbing oxygen up into hemoglobin inside red blood cells and pumping it off to wherever it's needed -- what a miracle it really is. When I have the elevation symptoms I feel my heart pounding in my chest like the tired motor of an over-heated car engine banging around in its -- what word would you use for what it bangs around in: casing? Trunk?  I'm not so good with mechanical metaphors. Still it is fun to stretch a little. 

Alright then. I have managed to rest a full hour. I call that a major accomplishment. Now on to the water stop where I hope to find cell coverage and rest quite a bit longer, if it is pleasant. ( if not I will get water and look for a pleasant spot to rest. )

Photo 2. View from 2nd test and water stop -- that magical mobile Mt Shasta again -- where I did not have cell coverage but did rinse out my socks, shirt, pants, underpants, bandana and towel in the beautifully clear cold spring water. I felt clean again and restored. And it was great to do all that in the presence of such a great mountain. I think I have told you before that in my late 20s when, after dropping out of MIT and various adventures, I moved back "home" to San Diego and lived with my father, I had a dream of living in the mountains outside San Diego, where we first lived when I was 5 and we moved from Milwaukee and where, together with my first dog, I first fell in love with a landscape. At that time I made up this song: you've got to listen to the music of the mountains. It's calling and you know it's calling you. Calling 'River, River, River, how we miss you. We have your heart but we miss the rest of you.' I kept thinking that song and walking through these beautiful mountains and brimming over with tears and gratitude. I offer Shasta again as Bonnie's Wave.

Photo 3. Sage from Omak Wa ( Eastern Wa) stopped to visit at my third test stop, barely a mile past the second stop, because I found cell coverage. We had a very interesting conversation about pushing to finish versus being in the moment and how you can't really choose between them, they are both important, but they are also in conflict. We talked a bit about personal stuff-- family, relationships, responsibility to others balanced with/against being faithful to oneself and ones own dreams. It is amazing to me the contact one sometimes makes with people on this trail. And yet you may never see each other again. Although Sage I think I will see. He told me he has been to every single county in the state of Washington except San Juan. So I gave him my card and told him to come see me on Orcas. He got his name when someone had asked him about where in Washington he came from and he said "the sagebrush side of the state." The other guy suggested "Brushy" as a trail name, which he disliked. And then suggested "Sage" because he was always saying smart things do it had two meanings. 

Photo 3. After awhile Daniel (who Sage had already met at the previous water stop, along with a community of folks Daniel used to live with) came along and stopped to visit. Turns out Daniel is a zen monk (it was a Buddhist community) who now lives in Ashland and works in garden and yard care, and he was two hours into his very first backpacking trip, which was planned to be four days. He made me remember my first trip, starting at the Mexican border in March 2013. Looking back, I seemed so innocent then -- sort of a trail virgin. I felt a real desire to help and support Daniel and when he said he planned to camp at the very spot I had picked out, I decided to leave it for him and go further. (We knew I would figure out a way, didn't we? As my feet, who refer to themselves as the "foot soldiers" say: "we know our general.") 

But as it turned out, my "other" gps app (I mostly use the Halfmike app, but the Guthook lists more water sources and tentsites) suggested there were multiple sites just a tenth of a mile further. When I realized that I stopped pushing and settled down for a lunch and rest break. That was when I discovered my missing foam pad and had to hike 3 1/2 miles back to get it. Not sure this is exactly what people mean when they say "less is more" but my day of doing less managed to transform itself into a day of doing more. 

I really did enjoy the slow pace, the slipping into pause and simple being, and I don't think it's an accident it led to meaningful encounters with other hikers. (Nor that those encounters led me to get distracted about my gear and leave some behind, turning less into more). 

But I do know how tempted I am tomorrow to hike the 16 miles to Callahan's. I think it's like a horse rushing home to the barn. Civilization and its comforts beckon. But. I also hope I decide to experiment with another day of going more slowly and doing less. It will be interesting to see what happens. 

Photo 4. When I finally hiked back to where I'd left my foam mat,  it wasn't there. Luckily I spotted it some distance awAy where it was blown by the wind. 

Photo 5. This pass, 6833 ft, I climbed to three times. I realized during today's walk how much I love Oregon. I know political boundaries are arbitrary but I feel as if I've moved into a different state (energy, way of being, way of feeling) since crossing the border. The landscape feels softer and gentler. (with Mostly that's a good thing though tonight when I set up my tent for the first time ever the ground was so soft the stakes would not hold. )

Photo 6. A rock formation I did not notice the first two times but only the third return. I imagined the top two rocks were lions heads back to back and it made me think of the lions head gate at the Ancient Greek ruins at Mycenae. 

I did get a lot of wonderful supportive responses (which I hope to respond to personally during my TWO zero days at Callahans). There seem to be problems with posting comments at the website for many (although one person succeeded,  Thank you so much, Moriah, others weren't able to post. I also hope to troubleshoot this while I'm at Callahans. But it doesn't really matter that much. I love getting your emails. Just thought you might really enjoy seeing each other's comments. 

Much love and gratitude AND EXHAUSTION. See you tomorrow.