PCT Day 126 – Coming up for Air

Charlton Lake (mile 1925) to Dumbbel Lake (mile 1947)

In the early morning we walked through a recovering burn area. Grey trees stripped of bark and needles made a forest of ghosts. Everything was quiet without the normal hustle and bustle of birds, their homes singed to ash and not yet regrown, what would they have to sing about. And where would they do it. This area made for a stark sort of silence, and a small chance for a view before we were once again consumed within the tunnel of trees before us. The sky overhead was a startling blue. When was the last time I’d seen a perfectly blue sky? Weeks? More? The haze of fire rimmed the horizon in all directions but here in this little bubble the sky was a clear perfect blue.

And for the first time in a long time I could see a horizon beyond a wall of trees. Low rolling hills like torn shades of construction paper layered one on top of the other. This sight, more than the months spent walking, far more than the ever growing milage number that I record each night, made me realize that we are well and truly waking to Canada. That those ridges represent a tiny bit of my future, again and again in little bits. Until one day, if I am very very lucky I will arrive at a funny wooden monument where the trees are cut down in a long line stretching towards the horizon. And then this two and a half year dream will come to a resounding end and I will cry a million tears for everything that we did out here because it was so so beautiful.