Sierra City (mile 1195) to campsite at mile 1172
Total PCT miles hiked: 1066
Due to our early start Keith (Starman) and I arrived at the Sierras when there was still a lot of snow, and decided it wasn’t safe to attempt a crossing given my skill level. We elected to flip up to northern California and hike southbound (SoBo) back to where we left off near Lone Pine – giving the snow a chance to melt out. During this flip the PCT milage will be counting down, but I’ll include a tally of our total milage hiked so that you can keep aprised of our progress in a linear fashion.
The forest leaving Sierra City feels like something straight out of a fairy tale. Dark trees grow out of dark rocky soil. The same green moss that has covered the trees through the majority of NorCal is somehow more sinister here, as though this place hasn’t seen human inhabitants in a long time. As though some foolish children are wandering into a witch’s cabin just beyond our line of sight. Harsh, whipping winds make the trees around us groan and sway, their branches heavy with spring buds. Arms reaching to grab unsuspecting passersby. While high above the same wind pushes the clouds across the sun, the light flashing like some drunk toddler got ahold of a light switch.
Stupid fairy tale murder forest I think to myself as the trail begins to climb up out of the valley and towards the snow covered peaks. Unbidden to any nameable emotion, I begin to silently cry and quickly quell the tears. It’s hard to hike, or do any kind of cardio, if you’re crying, and beyond that I’m not even sure what I’m upset about and I don’t really want to try and explain this grab bag of emotion to Keith, so hiking it is.
I just feel tired. Yesterday I spent the whole day writing and scheduling posts, running errands and doing laundry. By the time I got a chance to talk with my family it was late afternoon and just like that my rest day was over. I don’t feel rested, I feel overwhelmed, I feel like I want my mom and maybe a nap. Almost 30 and a few weeks of hard hiking have devolved me into a toddler playing with my emotional light switch. It was so hard to pry myself from that hotel room this morning when all I really wanted to do is sit on the old leather couch in my parents house watching Harry Potter movies with my family. But I’m pretty sure nobody finished the PCT sitting on a couch, so instead I have to make due with appreciatively eating the nice baked goods they sent me and then hiking out. When you’re feeling great and when you’re feeling terrible, the only answer is to keep hiking.
By early afternoon we’ve left the fairy tale murder forest behind and climbed up to the rolling ridges of the northern Sierras. Mules Ears are springing from the snow-soaked earth and all around us ridges roll into the distance. Instead of the endless pine forests of northern California there are lakes and white capped peaks. We roll over rise after rise, the wind doing its best to blow us off our feet. While above the clouds race by fast fast, the sunlight still a flashing disco ball. The endorphins from the climb have boosted my mood and I can begin to appreciate the dramatic landscape around me. Tomorrow is another day, and hopefully with enough sleep it can be a day without as much random crying.
PC: Keith, who took this picture right as the wind tried to knock me over.