CDT + GDT: Leadore to wisdom – entering act three

Requirement 24 | Leadorae, id to wisdom, Mt

Author’s note: I am now in the time of arrival to get to Canada and the publications can be delayed since it tried to push larger days with less scope time in the city.

Day 93, 14.5 miles.

At this morning’s breakfast, I spent the first annual Yearbook of CDT 2024 that my printed friend. I’m glad that the inn has had a copy. It can be a very lonely path, so it is good to see all together. In fact, I will probably never see the sobs that I met again until they appear this year, since they are heading in the opposite direction. 2025 class hikers can go to ADVTGT.com/class-of-2025 to receive a notification when the yearbook presentations are opened. Anyone can buy a copy.

Today I did many stretching and logistics and finally organized a transport service back in the afternoon with a place called Carolyn. Along the way, I told him that I had seen a golden eagle. «Do you know what I just learned about the eagles?» She said. «Every forty years, they hide somewhere and break the peaks and start all their feathers so that they can grow again.» «Seriously! That’s crazy,» I said. «Stop suffering, to get fresh.» So I thought, well, it’s not different from what I’m doing, right? (Author’s note, this is the myth, I only learned after I had the Internet later to verify this).

Today’s hiking was strangely easy. It was well qualified and well maintained. There was no crazy wind or biting flies or mosquitoes. I didn’t have to climb about death or wet my feet. It was cloudy and fresh without rain. The doors opened and closed easily. It was actually a pleasant hiking. I thought, am I on the PCT? I kept waiting for the capture. I saw a way forward and I thought, I will surely need to get up. But the path was contoured around the curve. The cruise path gave me a lot of time to think.

In Ridgeline today, I went through many trees that grew away from the wind. He didn’t wind now, but you could see the impression that the wind had left on how trees grew. Humans are the same. Any wind against which you grew up may have disappeared, but it could still be compensating. You may still be tilt into you lean. One thing that I love of the mountains is that its contours reflect the way the water is touched on the sand bank on the side of the road. As something so humble you can climb in something so great. Everything in the physical universe is the same, only on a different scale. I am a human walking in an ecosystem. But I also contain ecosystems: in my intestine, in every cell of my body. There is a logic in everything, and fit in it. I am not separated from all this. All this is me, and I am all this. That is what is in my brain when the world goes back and we are only me and the forest. By the way, I walk totally sober. No drugs, without drinks.

Day 94, 33.3 miles.

The first existential crisis I had was when I was six or seven years old. I was walking to school with my mother, and in Seattle, where I grew up, it rains a lot. And when there is rain, there are slugs. And one day I asked my mom: Hello mom, why are there slugs? She looked at me and said: «Why do you exist?» Oh, this broke my little brain. I mean, you tell me, you gave me light! And when I was 9 years old, I read the entire Gone With the Wind wind, which is not fourth -grade reading material or content. He took me a month, but wanted to see if he could finish the longest book he had seen. So I guess I haven’t changed. I am still thinking about existence and trying to finish the really long thing. I saw someone had written their name on Sticks today on the road. Humans love to write our names everywhere, as if they were so scared to die and have gone that we have to make sure people knew that we exist. Today I walked through Lemhi Pass, which is where Lewis and Clark, guided by the Shoshone Sacajawa woman, would have crossed the mountains in search of a passage from the Northwest. I can’t imagine being in position: hey, we are going to take care of your neighborhood and everything that surrounds it, but first can you show us? Here is a spring called distant Fountain Spring that is considered one of the headwaters of the Missuri-Mississippi river system. At this point, I have passed the headwaters of all the main rivers of the United States: the Río Grande, the Colorado River, the Mississippi and Missouri rivers and the Columbia River (I will walk next to this in Canada). It all starts here in the continental division.

Day 95, 30.8 miles.

I met a constant flow of suns all day today. We would often make a rapid exchange of information. «How was the hitch in the city?» I would ask to go to sobos. «Is Lima’s stretching as everyone says?» They would ask me in return. I chatted with two women soy for a while comparing notes about who we knew above and on the path. They told me that many sobo had already resigned in the first 300 miles. «Brutal start in the glacier,» he said. «It is hard terrain much above and down.» «Well, many nobles renounce in the first 100 miles before they reach the first city,» I said. «There is no water and if you can’t do the mileage for the next cache, you are screwed.» «Brutal start at both ends,» he agreed. «People forget that this is the most formidable of Triple Crown paths.» Shortly after leaving them, I heard a voice that I called: «Stitches?» It was Casper, one of the few women who also made the mountains with me in 2023, which was the highest year in the snow of CA registered and entered without experience in snow. Then he completed last year and is walking along this Sobo path to finish his triple crown. I knew I was close to Montana’s end, but I didn’t know exactly where I would see her and it was very nice to see a family face of my first long path. I told her about Wyoming and she told me about Montana. Meeting people who go in the opposite direction means that you probably never see them again in this path. But wherever they met, the two together have walked the entire path, and slowly the knowledge of the other will be completed until both have completed it from the end at the end. Later, at least four sobo told me that I was about to walk in some incredible landscapes. In the comments, it seemed that the nobles were not so impressed. «It’s a minor wind,» one wrote. But beauty does not need to be zero sum. The winds can be beautiful without taking away the beauty of this valley in Idaho. This path is sometimes described as a series of pearls: moments of delusional beauty interspersed with nothing mundane. It would be negligent to concentrate only on the brightest pearl instead of appreciating them all as they come.

Day 96, 36.4 miles.

Lately I have been thinking about the culture of this path. I feel that I have a distinctive sense of the path of the path despite the fact that I have walked almost completely alone, seeing very few others. I hope many others have a similar experience. So where does this feeling of a collective culture come from? There is certainly the atmosphere of each city of trails and the people who help along the path of the path. I think it could actually be captured in the comments that we leave each other in Farout. Of course, most of them are utilitarian: this transmission is still working, there are two good campsites here, do not miss this turn. But then there are the other comments:

An argument in the comments of the Memorial Sacajawa about honoring the historical meaning of Sacajawa.

O The detailed classifications for the doors along the path: this balance in a floor B. This has a creative blocking mechanism.

Or a series of comments at the intersection of Oregon Trail, all of hikers who were primary students in the United States at a given time when we sat in the computer laboratories and played the Oregon Trail computer game.

Or sometimes, a comment votes for not being part of the culture, perhaps about reducing curves or taking after the red line too seriously.

When I am walking alone, reading these comments brings some lightness a day. You feel that you are still part of a community that shares an understanding of what it means walking through the CDT.

We think of gossip as an idle talk, but in reality it helps create culture defining bad behavior and good behavior. What are the rules of a society. And that is what hikers are doing in the comments.

Day 97, 9 miles from wisdom, 15 miles away. 24.2 miles in total.

Last night, when I was looking where I could stop camping, I realized that the hikers’ comments noticed that the path that was going to wisdom was very quiet and some waited two hours to take a walk. Most of the sobos with whom he had spoken had hooked from a more busy road in Darby, Mt. but had a couple of new shoes waiting for me in the postal office with wisdom, which was only open for two hours in the morning. So I wanted to organize as close as possible to the road and prepare to sit on the road waiting for cars for up to two hours. Just when I got to the road that passed a car and took off my thumb. Without luck. There is no luck with the next cars too. I hope this is not all the traffic that I will get today, I thought. Then, another car approached and decreased speed, then stopped. I ran to the window. He was a mother and a son. «Where did you go?» She asked. «In wisdom,» «Oh, that’s where we will take you.» Eileen left me at the Post Office, I got my shoes and made my refueling, and then took me to lunch and gave me a return trip and invited me to return at any time. Sometimes you have to miss the wrong cars so that the right car can pick you up. Life is abundant if you allow it. The CDT was superimposed today with the Nez Perce path, which was a route that the people of Nemeepu used to access the summer hunting grounds and then used to flee from the war brought by the white settlers. While walking through his steps, I looked at the forest and thought about how plants and trees are just plants and trees for me, but indigenous peoples would have known how to use everything; How to follow the rhythms of this particular landscape. I had to go into wisdom to survive, but they could survive on this earth. That is what it means to be indigenous from a place. For some reason, the pass here bears the name of the white man who launched a surprise attack on the natives fleeing. Why immortalize someone for trying to kill people who are already leaving the land you are trying to take care? And why take it first? Is that what we value in the United States? Are we proud of that?

XX

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