I’m back! Thank you for your patience. I’ve been going through very difficult times in my life off the slopes, so I haven’t felt motivated to write. Long days of hiking don’t help either.
Day 61: Blue landslides.
The group and I left Vermilion Valley Resort at 8am to do a blue trail (alternate trail) over Goodale Pass to save a few miles on our way back to the PCT. I got lost in the initial series of blowdowns left over from the Cold Creek Fire. The trail was overgrown in many places, making navigation difficult.
It was a slow hike to the top of this pass, located at about 11,000′ and requiring about 4500′ of ascent. I didn’t feel very energetic to begin with, especially once I hit the last three miles or so over rock formations. At the top, there were significant patches of snow and I saw storm clouds appear in the distance. It made me wary because I was alone on this exposed rock pass. I tried to go down as fast as I could, but I inadvertently followed the wrong trail that took me off the path. By some miracle, I ran into my group who also accidentally followed that path, as we rejoined the trail together. I had a snack with Fleet and Steve as we watched the scary clouds disappear.
With clear skies lighting our way, we headed to our campsite for the night on Lake Virginia. Throughout the day, my head had felt invaded by phrases and words that empowered me and at the same time saddened me. Tomorrow would be a difficult day.
Day 62: The path reveals what we know in our hearts to be true.
We started early towards Mammoth Lakes so we could maximize our time in the city. Very cruising day, 15 miles to Lakes Basin where the tram would pick us up and take us into town. There were so many people and it was only Tuesday. We walked alongside azure lakes as we returned to civilization. I arrived later than everyone else, as usual, so I opted to have lunch at Mammoth Brewing.
At the hotel, I took a shower and made sense of my backpack and its contents. Later, Fleet went to dinner with a friend, so after much nervous anticipation, it was time to pick up the phone.
Out of the way, I had been dating someone for a while, and this call was when I announced I wanted to end it. I had been thinking about our relationship for a long time on the road, almost all day, every day. Without going into too much detail, the more I walked, the stronger my convictions became when thinking about what I wanted for my future. Over time, I came to accept that our future goals (the most important ones) were incompatible and that neither of us should compromise.
It was difficult to come to this conclusion because I loved him so much. I didn’t want to say goodbye, and definitely not on the phone, but I was at the point where it would be wrong for me to lie. I also couldn’t let him drive to California, since he wanted to come see me on the way.
Many tears were shed during this phone call. I hated every minute of it. It was somber and few words. I could tell this caught him completely off guard, which only made it worse. The devastation was palpable through the speaker and I didn’t say even half of what I had planned in the previous days. I hated that I was causing him pain and pain.
I know people often say that the road changed them, and I don’t know if it did that to me. Rather, I believe that walking the path, living by the simplest means, being alone with your thoughts for several hours each day, has revealed to me what is truly important to me. There are things that really matter to me in my present and in my future, and they matter more to me than I previously assumed. As I ascended the PCT, I realized my true self and had to be honest about it.
After that call, I immediately followed it up with a call to my mom, who helped me process everything. It was good to talk it out with someone and it helped me calm down. When I felt ready enough, I left the hotel to meet Shoeski, Muffin Man, and Kul Cat (formerly Julia) for drinks at Mammoth Brewing. Julia finally earned a trail name for her custom cat photo on her Kula fabric. Romaine and Suave (formerly Sophie, for her charisma and definitely not for her hand-washing habits) were celebrating their sixth anniversary elsewhere. I had no appetite and sat listening in silence, my mind in a daze. Was this the right decision? Will I ever know?
Day 63: Running away from the internet and my problems.
I woke up mid-morning, still feeling the emotional hangover from the night before. I decided to treat myself to an elegant chai latte in Black Velvet (with your permission), followed by another blackberry mocha from the second Looney Bean location. I finished my resupply and snuck into the Quality Inn for breakfast with Fleet, Romaine, Shoeski, and Suave. They contacted me and I appreciated their concern for my well-being.
Fleet decided to walk with someone else, so he left long before us. We only covered five miles that day, passing through Refs Meadow before camping next to a strong river. I was really happy to be out of touch again, unplugged in the woods where I could be alone. He felt safer here.
Day 64: Not feeling it.
This day was horrible. I had no motivation to walk. All I wanted to do was sleep. I struggled through the pine forest, not even 20 miles, until I reached Thousand Island Lake. Was it beautiful? Yes. Could you appreciate it? Not very well this day. At least the weather was pleasant. It was difficult to find a campsite that wasn’t covered in groundhog droppings, but my group made it. I was glad I downloaded lots of new Mammoth music to distract myself from the act of walking today.
Day 65: Donohue Pass and Yosemite.
Today we would finally cross into Yosemite National Park, an icon of the Sierra Nevada. I slept in and enjoyed the lake much more fully than yesterday. I also felt in a better mood to walk. I followed a young German couple towards the pass where we saw a mule deer running around. At Rush Creek, I partially fell, soaking the left side of my body, including my phone inside my hipbelt. Surprisingly, it dried in the sun without any problems.
The pass was similar to Muir in that it has snowy access but not too steep. Fortunately, the snowfields are much shorter. I walked over rocks and snow trails where I saw a pair of ptarmigans jumping in the snow. So beautiful.
Near the summit, I turned to look back and saw a man in a grout suit making his way up the trail. Trash Panda, holy shit. I hadn’t seen this man since Kennedy Meadows, more than two weeks ago. I called him and we chatted briefly. He was considering quitting because he was lonely and had very strange sleeping or walking times. I would sleep for several hours, walk and repeat, letting him wake up at 9 pm and walk until early morning. It’s hard to find friends to walk with like that. I wished him luck and hoped he felt better.
Beyond the pass was a long descent to Tuolumne Meadows. The trail was in many places obscured by snow or a waterfall of icy water. However, the construction of the trail was beautiful, with carefully hand-laid cobblestone steps. The prairie was warm but lacking in wildlife, however I was able to see plenty of trout in Lyell Fork. It was the flattest, easiest terrain in weeks, so I pushed forward until I met the highway, my first road crossing in 200 miles. A ranger on horseback checked my tag, also for the first time.
At the highway junction with Tuolumne Meadows, I didn’t have to wait long to hitchhike. Samuel, a seasonal employee, picked me up in his Honda Element equipped with stickers and good music. It was a beautiful Friday night and he had finished work for the day, proud of the newly purchased mountaineering boots that he would face his first summit tomorrow. Grateful for someone who drove me 1.5 hours to Yosemite Valley, we talked about trails, work, climbing, Yosemite facts, and more. It was so fun and exciting to ride all the twists and turns of Tioga Pass.
Our group was lucky to camp at Camp Four for two nights, so we would have nothing to do tomorrow. I found our group, plus two new hiking friends, Gabe and Isaac, who Shoeski invited to stay with us. After a long day, I fell asleep quickly, excited to be back in a familiar place with a home for more than one night.
