Riv's 2015 PCT, Day 54, August 18

Day 54, Tuesday, August 18.  

From campsite at PCT mile 2356.91, elev. 4968, walked 17.54 miles to campsite at PCT mile 2374.45, elev. 3782. Total up/down: +3661/-4821. 

Dear Trail Friends,

I am in my tent in the dark, once again in a campsite tucked in a circle of trees. I had intended to stop 2 miles back (or that failing, a mile and a half back). But when I reached my planned site -- despite a lovely encounter with a young man who is supporting his mother as she hikes (with his stepfather) to heal her PTSD --bringing resupplies to them by truck, letting them sleep in the truck, and who has run lots of wilderness survival experiences for teens as a treatment for behavioral problems --I felt uneasy about the "vibes" -- too near a road for my sense of wilderness safety, dirty toilet paper left around, and just not a good feeling. Then the next area was on a road with tracks that looked recent to me. I wonder if I am feeling more fragile and vulnerable because I've been wrestling with troubling thoughts and maybe am feeling less trusting in general, of self and world? But I never like camping near roads. 

Anyway, just like last night, I find enormous reassurance being circled by trees. They seem to be guardians, providing shelter. As if they can stand between me and all danger.  Not only from the outside, but from my own threatening feelings and thoughts. 

That's how I felt last night. So comforting to look out at all those sturdy and stable trunks (some quite large in diameter, old growth, others younger).  So comforting to do my inverted posture before setting up my tent and to look up into the circle of branches above me. 

Photo 1. Sure wish the iPhone could have captured the brilliant lavender-blue and bright pink of the pre-dawn light through the trees. I love starting to hike before the sun comes up and watching the world change. The colors and the radically changing light -- going from dark to bright and gradually going from horizontal to angular to vertical -- it all gives a vivid sensory felt sense that this is the beginning of a new, unknown day. I had the feeling as I walked, remembering yesterday's "conversation with God" when G. told me I had to stop trying to ride the wave that was already gone (trying to figure out who did what, who's to blame for my falling off of the wave) and turn my full attention to watching the arriving waves and finding one I could ride--I had the feeling that this brand new day was my wave, and that it was up to me to try to get my balance and ride it. So let's choose this photo for Bonnie's wave, this changing light that is the rising swell of a new day. May we all ride it with grace and joy. 

Photo 2: the sun coming up. Again the iPhone can't catch the brilliant pink color of the rising sun. Alas the color is from all the smoke-- from all those huge uncontrolled fires in the north, I assume. It made the few hazy and dim, and it gave me a dry throat and for awhile I was coughing in a way that made me wonder if the smoke might cut short my hike, whether the trail reopened or not. But the wind shifts I think or something shifts. In the afternoon I wasn't even aware of breathing smoke. 

Photo 3. A lovely little water fall where I collected water at my first water/rest stop of the day. 

Photo 4. For awhile I thought this was just a dead tree, then I persuaded myself it was a new (to me) variety of evergreen (an ever-red) and I was quite excited about it. Then, seeing the identical color in dried out dying branches of green trees, I had to return most reluctantly to my original assessment. Wouldn't it be lovely to have a living for tree this color? 

Photo 5: This fungus was about three feet in diameter. I thought the colors and shape were stunning. The photo does not do it justice. 

Photo 6: I was hiking along and suddenly saw this lake. As it happens it turned out to be Lizard Lake, where all the seemingly used toilet paper (and a torn up book about sinners and God) was scattered, where the campsite was very near the road in a way that felt input to me. But when I first saw it, what a beautiful surprise to see water and reflections of trees. If you look at the trees in the distance you may be able to see some of the smoky haze I am talking about. 

I got good coverage today and was able to get my email, talk with Chris, and upload my blog for the last few days. I was also walking down the trail looking at my iPhone and quite a number of south bound hikers appeared out of nowhere looking rather anxious that I was going to walk right into them. I did tell you, didn't I, about my idea of the new "fool" card for the tarot deck, in which instead of smelling a flower as he steps over a cliff, he is gazing into his iPhone? And I told you that I very very nearly missed a switchback and came close to stepping over a cliff (way back early in the hike) when I was gazing into my phone?

Which reminds me. I had the feeling back then that "my body" woke me up. That sense of another self that is not conscious, does not think or communicate in the ways I do, is totally other and yet is also in some sense me, is very strong for me on the trail. When I speak of conversations with the "foot soldiers" (my feet) and the sergeant who advocates for them, even though I imaginatively elaborate it, I refer to something very real for me. I notice that sometimes I really really don't want to do something -- elevate my feet, rub pain cream into them, take off my shoes and socks and let my feet air -- and I really sense another being, another constituency inside me to whom I am responsible and for whose sake I need to do things I do not want to do. Oddly enough, this experience of responding to my own inner "other," and finding myself able to do the hard work of doing right by her, increases my confidence that if and when Chris becomes more dependent on me I will in fact be able to come through for her. Perhaps not perfectly, but a sense that I have it in me, I can summon the strength to do what needs doing. This is an important part of the pilgrimage for me. 

Thanks for listening. Your companionship means the world to me. And I love hearing the thoughts, feelings, memories that get stirred up in you. 

Happy trails til we meet again.