** Hey Folks! A little delayed on this one. I wrote this post on trail, but then somehow forgot to publish it.
Hauser Creek (mile 15) to Cibbets Flat CG (mile 32 + 1mi off trail road walk)
It’s 3pm when we start the climb out of Boulder Oaks Campground; we’re 10 miles into our second day on the trail and already we’ve had a leisurely brunch at Lake Morena and then whiled away a few hours more at Boulder Oaks Campground stretching and chatting with our fellow hikers. The afternoon is cooling and we decide to press on a few more miles.
The climb is gradual and tidy in the special way of the PCT, shepherding us higher along the red sand path, fenced in by the chaparral and below a tumbling stream appears from nowhere, cascading down the valley in slides and pools, rushing channels that plunge into gem colored tubs and then out of sight to who knows where. My legs feel strong and capable, making efficient work of the ascent. There is a light breeze that offsets the blazing sun shining down from the perfect blue sky and everything is fantastic. Every last detail is perfectly rendered in brilliant Technicolor.
I look. I gape at my surroundings. I try and take it all in. How good I feel, Keith cruising up the hill ahead of me, the sun, the rocks, this wonderful trail that so many people worked to make a reality just so a bunch of weirdos could try and walk from Mexico to Canada each year. What could we have possibly done to deserve all this?
I try to make the moment part of me. I want to consume this experience, let it fill me up until there is nothing left but lightness and a breeze on my arms. I want to hold onto this feeling forever even though I know I never could. But I try, I try so hard.
These perfect Instagram moments are the ones that draw people to thru hiking initially, and keep them coming back. But they are not the only moments or even the majority of the experience. There will be hours of difficulty ahead of us, cold nights and blisters and painful joints and arguments and boredom and frustration so profound as to make you scream your lungs out into the silent hills.
So as I climb I try my best to hold onto this moment, this fantastic gift of a day, and I endeavor to tuck this joy deep down inside me like a little stone that I can hold onto when the hard times come. I will rub my little stone from this wonderful day and remember why I’m out here.