DanceOff is back, baby! – The walk

“Can I help you, sir?” a convenience store employee asked aggressively, practically running from the back of the store to intercept me.

She thinks I’m a bumyes boyI thought to myself, with my large backpack and shopping bag in hand. Well, I’m not a boy, but I guess I’m a bum..

Everyone knows I don’t take transportation, so I managed to score a trip to the trail with Keith, a trail angel who takes hikers from San Diego to the south terminus for free during the first few months of the season. No money for gas, no tips. Traveling in his brand new suburban, with the car echoing with ecstatic hikers, was a true pleasure. Instantly, I became DanceOff: charm, charm, charm. Keith even gave us free fuel, lighters, and some trail magic at the south terminus! His explanation for his generosity is simple: “Being a following angel makes me the best version of myself.”

By camping at CLEEF, I got a better idea of ​​the demographics of my PCT cohort. Many couples, many old men and all the women I could dream of. I met more women on my bus ride with Keith than I did during my first two weeks on the AT. I had the idea in my head that they were all going to be very experienced and very attentive, but they were all a bunch of newbies with backpacks full of things as silly as shampoo. There’s nothing wrong with that! They will learn!

The first twenty miles of the PCT are fairly dry, but not as dry as alarmists would have you believe for an April 3 start date, as there was a flowing creek at mile 4.7 and a water reservoir at mile 14.5. But I had read on Reddit that everyone was going twenty miles to Morena Lake on their first day, so that’s what I did.

As I walked through the desert, it was crazy how quickly my body and mind came back. Ah, this again? they seemed to say. However, I also had this overwhelming feeling of accomplishment. I finally realized I was making progress on the PCT. You are doing it. You’re living your dream right now, a dream you’ve had since you read Wild at 19 years old!

The desert is a different beast. The first time I saw a Manzanita, I stopped dead. The blood red color, the candy layer curling vertically over the crust, the thumbprint exploding into green: I was paralyzed. Further along the trail, I sat under a bush covered in Pacific Tent Moth caterpillars. I spent a good part of the route at a higher altitude than Katahdin.

After spending my six months off the circuit in recovery and knee rehab mode, I wasn’t as fit as I wanted to be, and by the time I got to the water tank, I was questioning my decision to do 20 on my first day. I’m in no hurry and the only reason to go fast now is so I can go slower later. That, and the burger, shower, and shake waiting for me at Lake Morena.

Isaac and Kelly, my new trail friends, hiked the last six miles with me and that gave me all the energy I needed to charge up the mountain. I like walking with Isaac because he’s super genuine and stops to point out a horny toad camouflaged in trap grass. I like walking with Kelly because she is 100% enthusiastic and 100% sure she will go the distance.

I was pretty sure that none of the hikers I’d encountered were ready to meet PantsOff yet, but I had no choice but to introduce them to them when my pants ripped, right up to my ass crack. So far the best view of the trail.

The next day, as we were packing up our tents, I complained, «I can’t believe we’re on day 2 of the tour and no one has offered me drugs yet.» Then I realized they didn’t actually offer me meds until day 3 at the AT, but still. A girl can dream and the trail provides it! Just six miles later, I was eating a hot dog and smoking a bowl, while casually lighting up some trail magic. Court! The lust-stricken trail angel even sewed my pants.

I spent my second night camping by a stream with Isaac, Kelly, and two other new friends, all delving deeper and swapping stories about our dehydrated meals. Dusk turned to darkness and we settled in for our first night of restful sleep in the wild desert.

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