Campsite at mile 2352 to campsite at mile 2377
When we walked across the Bridge of the Gods into Washington I thought of what my friend Sarah texted me: “Welcome to Washington, where up is the new normal.” Damn, did she know what she was talking about. Half way through the state and I still can’t get over how much elevation gain there is. For example, today we’ll hike 25 miles with over 5,000 feet of gain AND LOSS! Each! This means the trail ascends 1,000 feet, and descends 1,000 feet for every five miles. If you’re not a hiker, just know that’s a lot. A lot. And I’m feeling it today.
We stop for lunch in the shade next to a shockingly cold spring which bubbles up from nothing before rolling down and away into the trees. I urge Starman to hike ahead of me, he’s cruising today and I don’t want to slow him down, I don’t want to try and keep up, I just want to plod along until camp. Plus, if Starman is far ahead of me then I can’t complain about how tired I am until we cut the day short. I don’t want to hike 13 more miles, but I know I’ll be more disappointed in myself if we shortchange our milage today. Sometimes I think that we do our best work, push ourselves the hardest, when there is simply no other choice. Thru hiking is good for that. Eventually Starman relents and I watch his back recede into the trees until he’s gone. I’ll come to find out later that he’ll get to camp two hours before I will. Neato.
But I don’t know that now so I dig into my food bag and use the ice cold spring water to make myself a trail iced coffee. In which I throw a few packets of instant coffee mix into a bottle and shake until most of the granules are gone. It’s certainly not the best, but I’m running short on food this section, hoping I can make up for that fact with a hearty dose of afternoon caffeine. I pair this with a Harry Potter audiobook and head off into the afternoon sun.
I climb relentlessly up, only to turn a corner and follow the trail back down. It’s fine, it really is. Even as I sit in the middle of the trail in the early evening with not a soul around and my legs too tired to make it up this climb without a break, I know it’s fine. I think about the food I’ll eat in town, reimagining it again and again, swapping bits around, making it better each time. Weirdly this is helpful when I’m really hungry. Maybe it’s knowing that I’ll have ample access to food in the future. Knowing that I live in a world of abundance and access. That this discomfort is finite, temporary in the extreme and that I chose to be here. I chose this. So I rise and make my way up the rest of the climb towards camp. It’s fine, it really is.
What kind of food do you imagine? Breakfast 🥞 🍳 ? Lunch 🍔 🥩 ? 🍻🥓 🍕🥗?
How did you really run out of food?!
🍹🥂
Mostly vegetables and dinner items, stuff that isn’t sweet. And we don’t really run out of food, mostly we just ration and are hungry most of the time.
Next time I’m feeling utterly beat on a trail, I need to try the “It’s fine” and “I chose this” slant rather than the “You’re such a loser what are you even doing” bit. Seems more… productive, your version of self-motivation.
I too, imagine food – the last few miles to the car I’m always telling Ryan exactly what I want to order 😂.
It took me a long time to get past the “why do I suck” mentality and just accept that hiking is hard for everybody, the better you get the faster/longer/steeper you go and in that way it always sucks just a little.
There is an expression used by AT thru-hikers when they’re uncertain about a direction to follow, which is similar to what your friend said: “Always assume up”.