Wednesday, August 26, 2015

Riv's 2015 PCT, Day 57, Part 1

Day 57, Friday, August 21, Part 1 

From Summit Inn at Snoqualmie Pass  (.3 miles from PCT mile 2390.69, elev. 2998), walked 7.55 miles to campsite at PCT mile 2397.84, elev. 5327. Total up/down: +3142/-832. 

Dear Trail Friends,

I actually ended up stopping early today, though I will have to admit it is through no virtue of my own. Indeed I arrived here (where I in fact had planned  to camp) early in the afternoon and decided to rest, eat a meal (my "third breakfast" since I had breakfast at Summit Inn Pancake House before I left) and see if I could hike another 4 to 7 miles. But then the sky started to do strange things. First the sun broke through the mist and the warmth totally charmed me. Little bits of blue appeared in the sky. I was enchanted by the beauty of my surroundings. Then the sun went away and what had been white most began to look like the very gray underbelly of a rain cloud. The wind tossed and the air began to have that peculiar smell and feel (a drop in pressure, perhaps?) I associate with imminent rain. Cold as it was ( I had been hiking in my warm jacket and wool gloves) I did not relish the prospect of hiking in the rain. Instead, I rushed to pitch my tent as fast as I could do I would have shelter if a down pour began. 

As it turned out, the sky kept playing with me (as mountain skies often do) first with the sun coming out with a radiant smile and a wink (as in "now you see me, now you don't"), and then the mist and dark clouds ominously closing--like stage curtains-- yet again. I've known the sky to tease me this way for hours. 

Right now it is 4:24 pm. I am sitting in my tent on my air mattress, half in my silk liner bag and sleeping bag and not quite warm enough but not very very cold either. After awhile I will need to get out and see to the water I am filtering and pee again. Then I will probably go to sleep very early -- after eating dinner and starting breakfast "cooking" of course. 

This was a beautiful day for hiking. I noticed several hikers -- especially Barbara and Little Brown (who hiked 6 miles up and then turned around and hiked down because he wanted to be able to see) both feel strongly about wanting clearness and the ability to see distances. I like that too, I probably even like it best, but I also love mist and for me the mist makes me more aware of my visual surroundings even while it limits the distance I can see. It seems to soften, to give a sense of mystery. And I love to watch its motion, even more -- what word can I use? Subtle? Unpredictable? Surreptitious? -- than water. Fascinating to watch it move like an airy amoeba through the sky, revealing and concealing as it goes. The movement makes me so keenly aware both of what I can see and what I cannot see. 

When I was in my 20s I wrote a poem that I think I titled "Mist in the Mountains" that went something like this:

The mist knows something
I need to know. 
Someday, I will go. 
Up before sunrise, walking,
the insubstantial fingers
of the mist talking
To my seemingly 
substantial body. 

I like remembering that poem. It feels like a very early premonition of my "call" to the trail. But I always loved mountains -- ever since I was 5 years old and our family moved from Milwaukee to La Cresta CA. The call was always there in that sense. Once in my late 20s I painted a water color of mountains that seemed to me to resemble fir-covered mountains in mist. I like to think of that as a premonition of Or as Island. I like the idea that our lives have a secret, hidden order to them, like a rosebud unfolding or an acorn growing. 

Photo 1:  road sign near the restaurant across the street. I found it a fascinating name. You can see the mist in the background, also a big truck. There were lots of big trucks pulled over in the early morning. I wondered if they were testing or stopping for breakfast. I wondered what it is like to be a truck driver 


When I got up this morning I was feeling deeply rested. I wasn't particularly hungry and considered just heading for the trail (not waiting for a restaurant to open and to get a hot breakfast -- I was bored with eggs, hash browns, sausage and/or bacon). But then I imagined what I would really love for breakfast: hot oatmeal, chopped walnuts, banana and yogurt. I decided to check both little grocery stores for yogurt (of course I wanted plain yogurt, but flavored would do). So I walked over to one store and found it didn't open until 7am. The. I crossed I-90 to where Barbara and I had lunch yesterday and saw it offered only lunch and dinner (and coffee and pastries). As I walked I felt utterly alive: my body strong and also rested, the misty air cool and fresh and feeling invigorating as I inhaled -- almost as if it had a special taste or smell that was clean and clear and alert. I felt, as the Buddhists might say, awake. I knew I wanted to hike today, even if it rained. 

As I turned out, neither store had yogurt. But I was surprised and delighted to find that the pancake house had oatmeal and also buttermilk. I couldn't find walnuts but bought some nice mixed nuts and a lovely banana at the convenience store and added them to my oatmeal with buttermilk. What a feast. I ate with "Climin' Lineman" a 74 year old Mormon from Salt Lake City who is thru hiking and who takes every Sunday as a day of rest. Little Brown joined us, who has agreed to sign for my Amazon prime package today since he won't leave til tomorrow (he's the one who hiked 6 miles yesterday and turned around because he wanted to wait til a day when he wasn't in a cloud, when he could see the view. ) Zybas and since he hiked 30 miles a day and so will catch and pass me tomorrow. I found out Little Brown comes from LeGrand in eastern Oregon where he was a UPS supervisor but retired early at 55 (because of the stress on him and his wife because he got phone calls 24/7 to deal with whatever went wrong -- as supervisor he was the "go to" guy). 

Photo 2. After a leisurely breakfast I finished packing my pack and headed for the trail at 8:45am. I certainly didn't need an early start to hike only 7 miles. When I came to this sign I remembered that these 7 miles involves substantial elevation gain -- but as it turned out, between the good condition and good grading of the trail AND of course the beautiful views, it wasn't that hard a hike. Though it was slow as climbing generally is for me. 


Photo 3-5. Mist in the mountains






To be continued in Day 57, Part 2



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