The day I arrived at camp about six hours late from “scheduled,” I turned to Van Gogh and said, “I have made a plan for tomorrow.”
“Let’s hear it,” he responded bravely.
«I’ll wake up whenever I want, walk as many miles as I want, and camp wherever I want at the end of the day.»
It probably wasn’t the nicest way I could have told him how I felt, but hey, I’m not exactly the nicest.
I tried to follow UpDog’s path. I tried to follow the path of Vivi and the path of Van Gogh. I thought it was a lesson I needed to learn on the PCT, the importance of flexibility, of adapting to my environment. However, the end result was the adventure of a lifetime that left me feeling miserable.
The commissioner said, «I invite you to consider, if you get to the end of the road and think, ‘Wow, that whole experience was halfway there,’ will you be proud that you got through it?»
My lovely normie friends asked me, «What’s your why? Why do you stay?»
T-Hug said, «Don’t forget you’re on vacation.»
It’s time to do my own hike.
That means resting when I need to rest. The Sierras left me at my physical and emotional breaking point, so I’ll take some time. Two neros and a zero in Sonora Pass. Two blacks and a zero in South Lake Tahoe. One nero and two zeros at Donner Pass. I’m done taking heroes when I want nero and neros when I want zero. I’m done running through the trail towns. Trail towns are part of the trail!
Walk hard, scratch harder.
I don’t want to waste time in my city calling my family and doing phone tasks. I want to drink with the locals. I want to go crazy, make connections, make a scene. I don’t want to be a bad influence: I want a group of idiots at my side who push me to be bad, inviting me to their next side mission.
I’ll sleep in as late as I want. If I hate leaving the warmth of my quilt on cold mornings, there’s a simple solution: don’t get out of bed until the sun is up.
I’ve started my morning pages again, three pages of stream-of-consciousness writing inspired by Julia Cameron’s book. The path of the artist. I need to get that negative energy out, clean up the crap. If that means leaving camp at ten, it means leaving camp at ten.
Some days I will walk slowly and take a break every mile, swim in the lake and be lazy because that is what my body and soul demand. Some days I’ll get my heart rate up and I’ll go miles and fly over those mountains, and I’ll feel fucking invincible. Either way, I don’t feel guilty anymore.
If I’m here to have fun, I’m here to have fun. That means microdosing acid and getting high at the high points. There is no better place to do drugs than on a hike. Mom, I don’t want to hear a word about it. Not a word.
I’m going to buy a power bank and some headphones, because the best performance-enhancing drug is music. I’ll even listen to Kanye if I want. I’m sorry! You can’t name a better album for hiking than My beautiful dark and twisted fantasy.
I’m leaving Cali as fast as I can. There’s something souring the soul of this place and I can’t stand any more bad juju. I’ll even skip miles if you give me a good reason.
I have three months under my belt doing everything I can to be the good girl the PCT wants me to be. But I’m just not her. I will never be a tech bro with a tiny backpack, completely comfortable spending weeks on end alone. Frankly, I think that shit is deranged. Call this culture shock, call me a bitch, call it whatever you want. I’m done. It’s time to be me.
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