The house befalls to silent as my hosts slip into slumber. I remind myself the adventure is in the unknown.
I tenderly tossed and turned. Trying to be careful on my sides. The forest canopy played with the stars. My thoughts wrestling with the morning. Sure my hips were trashed last year which I forgot about when it came to breaking down the hike. I also was at a place hikers gathered so holding up a day or two made no difference. Here, at a forest service campground, the story is different. I have no camp store with over priced foods to purchase. There are very few hikers coming as there are campsites closer to the PCT. My mind danced on wrong things.
I was wide awake when I heard Stanford rustling. She's hiking on, on into the heat. I got up when she went to the table. I forced my stove onto the canister. It worked, hot coffee or bust. We talked a while. She's debating taking the next out and yellow blazing to Trout Lake. I guess you can't call getting a ride around if you are sectioning. The heat murdered us both over the last couple of days. Our first two days. She had a climb of 1300 foot without water for 13 miles a head of her. I can see why she's not looking forward to it. Expected 90's again.
She planted a brain seed, an idea, in my head to skip a head. Rest up, regear, loose the weight, and move on.
Before 7 she left. The pack hovering in the forest. As she left, why not Light-a-Foot as a trail name? She's tiny comparatively. Trail names are names we can choose to take or not. They often come by something done, said, or other. Other, mostly around the stupid stuff we all do at some point. I've tried to look beyond the stupid and find the good. Even mine started as something less than.
I went back to bed. I mulled the possible. What's in my pack? What's in my scope of do able? More so, what's not? I don't want to walk the walk of shame back to work. This is not the kind of humiliation I want. What I didn't have is cell service. That's a key role in the next days a head.
The plan hatched. Though I got this campsite one more evening, I don't care, let somebody else have it. I talked with the campground host. They were heading down the mountain in a few hours, one way. If I didn't have a round trip avail, I'd go with them and drop a group text when cell scervice landed.
The campground host asked me what's my story and the conversation built from there. People are the story. She dropped me off near the Pizza Parlor Chi and Sarah treated me to last year. As we parted, I thanked her not only for the ride but for keeping me talking, enjoying a coffee etc. For me as a rider that is driver safety, get the other talking and holding something as one has a hard time with going devious if the hand and mouth are active. Mind you, that's not fool proof. There is always inherent danger in giving and taking rides from someone you just met.
A text or two later my gracious hosts of Saturday and I made contact. I also got a hold of my friend in Seattle. I have a month.The plan: heal a few days, send someone else's fear far away from me, get into a pack that will not irritate my skin, and hike the PCT on. Both of the passes outside Seattle have boxes waiting for me. I don't mind skipping a section or two, that's why they call section hiking, section hiking, you skip around so that eventually you hike all the parts.
Though I am a section hiker of the PCT, I am a thru-hiker. Thru-hikers don't come this far just to encounter a problem and turn around. We, like other classes, find ways to get through the tough sections of life.
The adventure continues.
Hike on, hike wise
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