imonahike

9 April 2018

I’m heading back to the Appalachian Trail! In less than a week I’ll be taking off from Springer Mountain in Georgia to hike as far as my legs feel like taking me.

I first set foot on the Appalachian Trail in 2015 with absolutely no backpacking experience. My mom and my aunt drove me to Amicalola Falls State Park and I began the approach trail with a 42lbs pack. Needless to say, with three summers of long distance hiking under my belt, my approach will be much different this year. For starters, my total pack weight will be under 25lbs with food and water. I also won’t be hiking the approach trail this year. As thankful as I am that I did hike the approach trail on my first AT hike, I’m in no hurry to do it again. The falls are beautiful, but after that it’s straight uphill for 8 miles with minimal water sources. Some things will remain the same, however. My mom and aunt will once again be driving me down to the start. We’re all pretty excited about this and it’ll be fun to reminisce and sing Simon and Garfunkel in the car.

(Amicalola Falls. 604 Steps up) This week I’m tying up loose ends and putting together some of my resupply boxes. While mailing your resupply isn’t as necessary on the AT as the PCT, I like that I don’t have to worry about grocery shopping when I’m in town. My pack is all set and ready to go. I’m hoping to do a post on the gear I’m taking with me this year.

13 July 2017

I knew when I woke up. I knew it was over. I gave some leukotape to John and he hiked out before me. I passed by Lazarus on my way out. His foot hurt.

I spent this day debating back and forth about going home. It was unpleasant. The vistas were beautiful, but they didn't hold my attention. Every five minutes I was changing my mind. I ate lunch with Victoria and vented my feelings. She had similar ones but said it was harder to just go home, being from Norway. She wasn't sure if she'd ever be able to come back if she left now.

Maybe I could just hike to Ashland, I told myself. "But why?" My cruel brain would retort. Something broke that morning. Realistically I knew the only thing that would fix it would be getting off trail to clear my mind. I'd been here before. It was embarrassing, having my mind betray me in such a way. For the first time there was no physical reason for me to get off trail, this was all mental.

Regardless I hiked 23.5 miles on this day. I had good conversations with Hazard and Victoria. It wasn't even dark when I finished the day, and there was trail magic at the end. But I knew I wanted to go home. My brain had broken. We were going to camp at hwy 3 and I was going to hitch out in the morning. Instead a woman named Lionheart stopped by, dropping a hiker off at the trail. She was volunteering at Hiker Hut in Etna, she said. Sure she'd give me a ride to the hostel that night, she said. Maybe I just needed to sleep, I thought. But I knew.

We talked casually on the ride back, about long distance hiking and the addiction that it was and being ok with being a section hiker and getting off trail. Lionheart seemed familiar to me. I realized I'd met her in the McDonald's in Mammoth Lakes the summer before. I was there with Barbie, Caveman, Two Meals, Blossom. My brain had been breaking then too. Lionheart had been section hiking, and yes she'd been there then, she remembered. Strange how that works, how tiny the trail can be.

The hostel was small and there was only one other hiker there. I had a bunk to myself. I took a hot shower. I chatted with the other hiker, who was somehow from Battle Creek. Which was actually true. The trail is so strange.

12 July 2017

I woke up with condensation all over my quilt. It was cool, not even 60°. Butters was packing up. We went to breakfast and Lazarus met us after a bit. I said goodbye to Butters, who was heading up to climb Shasta, and walked to the grocery store. Topped off my resupply. No string cheese or salami. Ramen for lunch.

I came back to my quilt drying, Necktie had already left and Butters had hitched out. Diggs was around and I chatted with her while I packed and sorted my resupply. Steve pulled up at 9:45. Picked up Lazarus a bit later. Necktie was nowhere to be found, I sent him a text wishing him good luck.

Turned out Steve was going to drop us at the top of the mountain so we didn't have to do the terrible climb out of Shasta. That was totally ok with me. I didn't care. Skip 12 miles to avoid torment my already destroyed psyche couldn't handle? Twist my arm.

We shook Steve's hand and he was gone. Looking at our maps, decided to do 11 miles before a short waterless stretch. It was already 11am. That was fine with me. There were lakes in 11 miles.

We were up on a ridge and I casually walked behind Lazarus. I didn't feel like I had to run like I did when I hiked with Butters and Necktie. The pace was fine, probably 2mph. He stopped on climbs. I was ok with that too. The views were spectacular. We passed two hikers eating lunch, Hazard and Victoria. Met them again at a water source.

A few hikers passed us that Lazarus knew. The Canadians, Conan and Stormback (?). Then a man named John. After a bit I wound up hiking with John on our way to the lakes. There's this thing about thru hikers, it takes no time for a real conversation to occur. I was telling him about my family, he was telling me about his.

The hike was beautiful. The lakes were beautiful. I got in and swam around, watching a nameless bird soar over the water. I wondered if it was an eagle, it was too hard to tell. I camped on a hill with John and we ate dinner together. He was only a bit younger than my parents, but it was probably the most honest conversation I'd had on the trail this year. I told him about what had to happen in order for me to go long distance hiking in the first place. I told him about the conflict in my heart this year. We talked about love and relationships. I told him about hiking with the rat pack last year. He told me the truth about men and what relationships are made of.

11 July 2017

This was a rough day for me. I couldn't decide what to do. Butters was leaving the trail and Necktie wanted to vortex in Shasta. I'd been missing home terribly. My box had been sent to the wrong city again. A one digit difference in zip code between Mt Shasta, CA and Shasta, CA. Which were very different cities. My resupply was 68 miles away. Perfect.

All of this put me in the worst mood. I'd been oscillating back and forth between being ok with the trail and resenting it. I didn't want to be here. I knew I didn't. But I had a goal. And I'd solo hiked before. Being so sick in the middle of nowhere had scared me. What if I'd been alone? What if the fly fisherman hadn't been there? My mind was being pulled in two different directions.

I made a decision later that afternoon and then my mind calmed down. I would hike out with Lazarus. He was slow enough that I could keep up and Steve would give us a ride the next day. I would top off my resupply in the morning and there was a box waiting for me in Etna. Finally. I really needed new socks.

10 July 2017

I woke up to Butters voice, "We need to get going before it gets hot." It was 5:30am. We hiked out by 6. I felt like a zombie walking out. A truck passed us on the road immediately, but in my exhausted state I stuck my thumb out instead of flagging the driver down. The truck drove by. I zombie walked, starting to conceptualize that we had at least 10 miles, probably more. How fast could I really do them? It would take all day to walk out of here.

But that's not what happened.

Not even a half mile into the hike we saw an older gentleman with a fly fishing rod slowly walking up the road ahead of us. Maybe he would know how far it was too McCloud. Strange that he was out there so far. We surprised the man, who was very friendly. We told him my story and he told us to come with him, he'd drop us in McCloud, where he lived. His truck was right around the corner. We had been walking maybe twenty minutes total and we had a ride.

It took almost 45 minutes to get to McCloud and we didn't see another soul for the first twenty minutes of the drive. We truly would have been walking all day if we hadn't found him. Turned out he had been fly fishing, encountered a rattlesnake, and decided to be done for the day. We were so damn lucky.

He dropped us at the bus stop. There was a $2 bus that would take us to Shasta, where we would meet Necktie. Where I could finally sleep. The bus didn't arrive for an hour and twenty minutes, so we walked to the cafe next door for breakfast. Our waitress owned the restaurant. Her daughter was hiking the PCT. I ate Butters' toast and she gave us 50% off our ticket. Thru hiker special. "Honey, I'm not your mother, but she's not here and you need to be taking probiotics," she told me. She was probably right.

We decided to go for a walk, looking for a good view of Shasta. Met a local on a walk, "Oh! Well if you go down this street to the Old Mill, you’ll have the best view in town!" Well ok. Sure. Yes let’s do that. Everyone was so friendly in this town I commented. "It’s because we’re a novelty here," Butters said. He was probably right.

The view from the Mill was great. We passed by a cute old church. Made it back to the bus stop with time to spare. The city of McCloud was lovely. Reminded me of a small mountain town version of Holland, perhaps.

Bus to Shasta. Objective to find a motel was in order. Passed by a hiker sitting outside a cafe. Northern England accent. His name was Lazarus, he was taking some time off in town. We walked along the road, to a motel we had passed. They wouldn't let us check in until 3. Check the Travel Lodge. On our way there, a white truck pulled up. "You PCT hikers?" We said yes. He introduced himself as Steve and offered us a ride back to trail when we were ready. Gave us his phone number. Gave us the phone number for Butters to call about Shasta snow conditions. Then he went on his way. Well. Now I had a ride back to trail.

The Travel Lodge was cheaper than the other motel and let us check in at 10am. Such a win. We spent three hours napping. I found my turkey sandwich and ate half of it. More napping.

"Necktie is at the road," Butters said. 22 miles by 2pm. How. Even. Gah. We walked to taco bell for dinner, which I'd wanted before I'd gotten sick. Necktie joined us, full of energy. He'd swam in a river and gotten trail magic. I was sleepy and listened to their conversation. Back to the motel and slept. Butters was restless and went out.

I woke up at 9:30 and texted Butters. He was at dinner across the street with Lazarus. I joined them and ate the overpriced spaghetti of my dreams. Finally. Real food. I was feeling better.

9 July 2017

Took my sweet time getting ready in the morning. Cooked my breakfast. Drank my tea. Chatted with Diggs. Hiked out at 7:30. Here we go.

Butters had waited for my at the water source, so we hiked together. Hike hike. It was hot. Too hot for me. We missed Colonel Buck and Necktie at lunch. So we ate by a little stream in a not very flat spot. I pulled the string cheese out of my pack, "You think these are still good?" Butters examined them, "Yeah, probably. I'd finish them today though." I ate three. My salami tasted weird. Some spice I didn't like. I was already hating my food.

Three miles to a forest service campground which historically had trail magic. I would take trail magic right now. I hated all my food. Ran there in a little over an hour. Necktie and Diggs were still there, the campground was right next to the McCloud river. I toed halfway into the river before I decided it was way too cold and laid in the shade instead.

After a while a woman came up to us and offered us their leftovers. It was Sunday and they wanted to get rid of it before heading back to the bay area. Well ok. Yes we would eat their food. Necktie, Butters, and I were thrilled for this trail magic. There were sauteed vegetables, hummus, spinach dip, izze sodas, corn salsa, fresh vegetables, etc etc. Real food. Real trail magic.

We ate without speaking. The sauteed vegetables were all I wanted in life. We couldn't believe our luck. But then something strange happened. Suddenly I was full. I had been eating quickly, but not that quickly. I stopped for a moment. Then a wave of nausea hit me so hard that I couldn't ignore it. I collected myself and walked calmly to the pit toilet, where I promptly vomited everything I'd ever eaten in my life. Great.

The rest of this day is kind of a blur to me. I took something to stop the nausea but felt really hot. Necktie hiked out after a while. I visited the privy another two times that evening. I couldn't hike out. Butters stayed with me.

The trail angels had left and it was just the two of us at the campground. My brain had turned to mush. "I can't hike out," I told him, "I don't think I can walk to Shasta." We were in the middle of nowhere. There was a parked car at the campground, but we didn't know how long until whomever returned. There was no cell service, so we used Butters satellite phone to text Erin. She used the Google to inform us that we were in the middle of nowhere and that the nearest town was McCloud, ten miles away as the crow flies. She didn't know how long it would take to walk there. Definitely shorter and better grade than the trail, but no idea how long. There was a lake on the way. Water source. Better option than the trail, hands down. Still an uncertain one, however.

7 July 2017

Woke up, packed up, hiked out first. I really need to do that more, since I never push more than 2-2.5 mph. I can do the distance, just not very fast. Plus I like the cool air in the morning. One it's much over 75° and the sun is shining on me, my speed and general enjoyment of the trail decrease to type 3 fun, which no one really wants to hear about.

(Early morning sun)

Ate breakfast with Butters, Necktie was long gone and Colonel Buck passed by while I was eating. We hiked out into an exposed climb. Butters insisted it wasn’t that bad. Really the grade was fine, but I HATED heat and exposed sun. So it was that bad. The sun shirt was doing its job though. My legs could fry for all I cared.

We were now hiking past Shasta. Shasta is a lady, we decided. Lassen was definitely a man, but Shasta was a madam. I liked her instantly. Butters was going to climb her, he insisted, before he headed back to LA. He was leaving soon. It would be different without him.

(One of the dams our hitch from the day before works on)

Lunch as a group, hiding in the constantly moving shade. I met Diggs, another thru hiker lady. She was super straight forward, but also laid back. I liked her. Apparently there are women on the trail. Go figure.

The afternoon I spent listening to Wizard & Glass on audiobook, part of the Dark Tower series. I listened to Roland's trials and tribulations while I experienced my own. I was last to camp, but there was plenty of time before the sun went away. Almost 19 miles, starting to get my legs back. I traded my freeze dried lasagna for Buck's spaghetti. Best decision. I ate the whole thing. Trying to eat better this year was definitely a priority.

A deer terrorized our camp this night. But no bears.

6 July 2017

We were supposed to hike out in the morning after I resupplied since my box hadn't arrived yet. That's not what happened. Instead we woke up to Butters missing a shoe. He'd left them outside the motel since they, quite frankly, smell like garbage. One was missing in the morning. Much teasing resulted in, "Yes, we'll go to Redding." Necktie needed to go too. He had holes in his shoes.

The morning consisted of mailing boxes and sorting things at the post office. It was enormously frustrating and this is the most trouble I've had with USPS since I started long distance hiking. So it goes.

Took a bus to Redding. An Uber to the gear shop. It was a local store, quite nice. Since I’ve worked at Lee’s I’m always interested in checking out other shops. This place was well stocked. I noted what they carried and didn’t carry. The lack of fun jerky was disappointing, but the rest was marvelous. I decided I would buy a ridiculous resupply here since I hadn’t gotten my resupply box for a second time.

Apparently I look like I know what I’m doing enough that I was asked for help by a customer. I politely gave them my opinion and then pointed out another employee who might have a better idea. Which then led to a conversation with a manager about working in gear shops and the differences between the west coast and the Midwest. This conversation went so well that I found myself with her keys in my hand. I decided to take them.

We went to Trader Joe's, a pharmacy, and Goodwill. I acquired the best resupply I've probably ever had and Necktie found a replacement for his destroyed tunic. Win win win. I didn't destroy her car and upon returning it, purchased the freeze dried meals and a sun shirt. "I'm giving you ten percent off, because you're in the industry," the manager informed me. She also mentioned that if I needed a job, there was one for me here. Such a victory.

(Awkward sun shirt selfie)

Bus back to Burney. McDonald's for the road before we hitched. Wildcat appeared!! We ate burgers and she mentioned joining us, although she wasn't hiking out until the morning. She would catch us.

Our hitch works on the dams in the area. He dropped us off at Burney Falls. We hiked down, they were beautiful. Ran into Snorkel, Simba, and Colonel Buck!! Camped with Buck just off the trail. So much running around. It was good to be back on trail. With good people.

(Burney Falls)

5 July 2017

Things that happened:

Slept in until Butters apologized in his normal speaking voice for being awake.

I went thrift store shopping. Found a dress I liked so much that I wound up mailing it home so I wouldn't ruin it.

Paid monies for nail polish. Do not regret. Painted nails.

Watched Legally Blonde. Which was the woman empowering movie I needed after being surrounded by mostly men.

For dinner I ate a pint of Ben & Jerry's. I'm officially hiker trash. With painted nails and a dress.

Today was Channa’s birthday. And also my Grandmother’s.

4 July 2017

I woke up and saw Buck packing up and knew it was over for me. We had talked about sleeping in, but all I had left was an oatmeal packet, dark chocolate milky way, and Skittles. I was hungry. I wanted real food. So I ate the milky way and packed up.

"I'm going to JJ's," I said to Butters. He said something I could hear over the water and I hiked out. They'd find me.

I raced through the pine down in elevation to Old Station. Realized I was too far down the road from the cafe, and stuck my thumb out. I instantly had a ride. I forgot how easy hitching was when I was alone. "Be safe." My ride told me when he dropped me at JJ's. I appreciated the concern, but whenever I'm alone I always get the "be safe" comment. Sometimes it got old.

JJ's serves burgers for breakfast. Priority number one. Burger with salad and orange juice. My lip had split a few days and and wasn't healing. I would take the minute maid juice if it meant I might heal. Food arrived and I annihilated it. Everything I wanted. Burger cooked right. Vegetables with all their original juices.

(The burger of my dreams.)

I found some shade and waited for the guys to show up. It took them longer than I thought. They immediately guilt tripped me.

"What happened to sleeping in??" "You LEFT us!"

Oh I'm the worst, I know. It was nice having to wait for them instead of the other way around. So they ate breakfast and we debated over nothing. I sipped on a Coke and ate a Snickerdoodle that was practically the size of my hand. Much satisfaction. We charged phones and I pulled out the sign I'd made to hitch.

(Thru hiker art. Sharpie on tyvek.)

The hitch went a lot better than I thought, considering the holiday. It took a bit, but then a couple heading to Burney pulled over and we piled into their car. Kind people. Dropped us at the Rite Aid. I stared at the nail polish, bought a half gallon of chocolate milk, and we walked to the motel.

(Having trouble picking a color…)

Showers, laundry, more food. I made it my goal to stay in bed as much as possible. McDonald’s. It was the 4th and Necktie appeared with these patriotic hats. We wore them at watched Independence Day (“This must be the most American movie”). Griped over the lack of fireworks to be found in this state. Necktie had acquired exactly one sparkler, which someone had thrown to him. We lit it in the parking lot, celebrating America’s defection.

3 July 2017

First 20 mile day!

Good day. The guys hiked out before me, eager to get to Twin Lake for a swim. I guess they saw a bear doing bear stuff on the way. I felt mostly good hiking, which was a nice change from the typical sufferfest. Eight miles with breaks by 11:15. I'll take it.

I arrived at Twin Lake to find Necktie and Butters waiting for me. Colonel Buck was also there! The hikers we had met yesterday, a German couple and a guy named Nate, joined us. No one had gotten in the lake yet, so I hopped in. Worth it.

(Me. Swimming.)

Nate joined me, and then Necktie. Butters walked in a ways. "It's so cold!" They complained. It was cold, but not so cold that you couldn't swim in it. Dunk your head, adjust. Dedicated swimming. I floated around on my back, looking at the sun. I could get used to this.

"This is what thru hiking is about!" Buck said from the shore. He was right. This was what it was about. The water was cool and refreshing. I could wash off the dirt that caked my legs. 10/10. Would most definitely swim in this lake again.

Next up was a walk through a burn area. The sun was high, but my hair was still wet from the lake. Much helpful. I watched the grasshoppers jump across the trail. Wildflowers had started to bloom, but the trees were all naked and shade was difficult to find. I listened to the Tallest Man on Earth as I walked. And I thought. Lots of good thinking.

(Burn area)

(Last view of Lassen)

We found some shade and hid from the sun for a bit. Then to the next water source. Short break. Six miles to camp, by a nice river. Downhill the entire way. Really this day had been a dream as far as grade was concerned. I busted out six miles in less than two hours. It wasn’t even 7pm when I rolled into camp. And it was a wonderful camp. The river was gushing from snow melt and it made the best white noise. I stuck my swollen feet into the water until I could no longer feel them. This was it. This was thru hiking.

Necktie, Butters, Buck, and I talked about nothing while we ate our sad backpacking meals. Wondered about how much people would pay to stay by this river if there were yurts and a meal provided. Who knew. It was a great spot.

(Necktie, Butters, Buck)

I’m finally getting around to updating this!! I’ll be posting some backlogged entries from when I was hiking in Northern California last summer over the next week or two. 

I wound up switching over to Medium for my primary blogging platform. I love, love Tumblr, but I really disike their phone app. You can’t insert photos into text posts and it was driving me insane. Thankfully Medium allows a little more customization when writing on your phone and I’ve found that I like it a lot! You can find my Medium blog here. 

The thing I’m most constantly updating is probably my instagram. Most of my more professional pictures wind up on there and I tend to update my story quite a bit while I’m hiking. You can find me at @imonahike  on instagram!

I’m definitely hiking this year!! I’ll be posting another update about that soon.

Much love,

2 July 2017

I hiked a lot this day. Felt like I was doing better miles. Maybe. Who knew.

Ran into some day hikers.

Entered Lassen National Park this day.

Took a side trip to Terminal Geyser.

Passed by Boiling Spring.

Paid too much for a meal at Drakesbad.

Met some cool hikers and camped in a campground.

1 July 2017

This was a weird day for me.

Necktie and I went to a second breakfast with Faravahar at this little coffee/breakfast/lunch shop. We sat for three and a half hours, just talking and dreaming. It wound up being a very Socratic conversation over religion and the state of the world. Faravahar told us a bit about his life, coming to America from Iran when he was young. His time working in Silicon valley. The frustration and sadness he felt over the state of Iran today. This type of conversation is one of my favorites. The kind where you state something or a statement is made and you have to look around a corner to really understand or provide perspective. Which is a super vague statement with too many words.

Faravahar was heading back to Tahoe for the holiday and we were hiking out. I was having a lot of unfortunate feelings about the trail but the point is I got back on. Our hitch was a wonderful lady who offered to give us fireworks since they’re impossible to find in California. Something about fires. Sparklers, even. We turned her down, but it was tempting.

My foul mood was gone by the time I arrived at our intended camping area. There was TRAIL MAGIC. Apparently even though this was private land, some people were camping. A man was sharing drinks from his campsite, Butters and Necktie were already there, and Colonel Buck too! Huzzah! The guy had a puppy named Killer. We became friends, Killer and I.

(Colonel Buck!)

(Me ‘n Killer!)

Other hikers showed up. I wandered off to set up my tent when it got dark. The way the trail angel kept trying to get me to drink more and offered to let me sleep on the couch in his trailer left my uncomfortable. The comradery was nice, but there were little bits that were off about the whole interaction. Butters talked to me as I set up my tent. There was a bang in the distance. Necktie reappeared not long after.

“He showed me his gun!!” A dialogue about Americans and guns and red vs blue followed. Necktie vaguely started setting up his tent and the guy appeared, visibly drunk this time. A conversation started that still really bothers me. Somehow he had swung the topic around to politics. He started talking about how Hillary Clinton was a psychopath and Obama an overgrown ape. Diction that should never come out of a white man’s mouth was used. Talked about how if black people wanted to be liked they shouldn’t violently protest. If they wanted to be liked they should be nice. The tirade continued. More unfortunate diction.

I wanted to intervene, but I didn’t. Here was a drunk man, twice my size, who I now knew possessed a gun. I was intimidated. I was angry that I was scared. Finally I stood up and proceeded to head the topic elsewhere.

“Ok, but, they’re trying to sleep over there, and we have to hike out early…” I excused the conversation. Let’s move on, please. Let’s not have this conversation. I wanted to say so many words about God and love and people. I wanted to say that his use of language did indeed offend me. But I was afraid. So I excused his hate.

Woke up ready to get out of the woods. Very ready to be in town. So ready that I left my SPOT at camp. Butters apparently felt sorry for me and turned around to go get it, “It’s only because I want lunch!” he insisted. In other words, because I was slow. Welllllll, fine then. I thanked him profusely and promised him lunch before I started heading to the road. 10.6 miles. How quick could I do that.

Apparently I could hike at a decent clip with a light pack. AND I had cell reception. I passed the halfway marker and started making calls. I called Erin, we talked for over an hour about anything and everything. I called my family, told them I was alive and well, the bear had not killed me in my sleep. I called Loon and told him my bear story. He laughed in response and told me about the shrimp wraps he was eating. Then I was standing in front of a steep hill. I dragged myself up it in the heat and stopped in the pine trees less than a tenth from the road.

I waited there, it was a bit after noon. Necktie showed up right as I was in a precarious situation. Because of course he did. Butters a half hour later, SPOT in hand.

“OK, let’s go, let’s go!” I urged. The pizza buffet closed at two and we only had an hour to hitch there. Butters protested, saying we needed to shower first. Necktie and I overruled him and our awesome hitch dropped us right at the restaurant. All in all, a success. They even made us a pizza to order. The buffet included salad and the gooey cinnamon stick things they always serve. Basically everything a thru hiker could want (ie everything I wanted).

We camped behind the Lutheran church for free. Did our laundry and took ice cold showers at the laundromat. I eventually video chatted with friends back home. I was missing nerd things. Particularly Dungeons & Dragons. We had a short role playing session and Necktie and Butters only made fun of me a little. It momentarily satisfied my d&d addiction, we’d see how long it would last.

Other hikers appeared over time. We socialized. Wildcat, a girl we’d seen the past couple days, hung around for a bit. Necktie tried on clothes the church was selling in a yard sale the next day. Actually John Mayer. We talked about Ashland and busking. Necktie played guitar in his new wardrobe while Wildcat and I talked about other sale items. The old Rossi skis. The conservative literature. The slightly-too-tall crutches. It was nice.

29 June 2017

Some experiences sear into your memory and you never forget them. This was one of those days.

Woke up prepared to do a big day. Choked down a bar, filled up on water, headed out. I actually didn’t feel terrible. Five miles done before I stopped to eat breakfast. Dora the Explorer stopped to eat with me, I’d met her the day before. We chatted about nothing in particular and it was so pleasant. It occurred to me that I really missed women. As great as Necktie and Butters were, ladies were cool too.

Hiked on through some volcanic rock. We were getting closer to Lassen National Park and the terrain let us know. Had some good views of Lassen and there were wildflowers. All good things.

Arrived at the first water source, about eight miles from camp. Unfortunately it was one of those ones off a steep side trail. I trudged down it, trying to use my nonexistent quads to save my knees. I think I was supposed to meet the dudes here? I certainly hoped so, otherwise I wouldn’t have climbed down this at all.

There was no one at the bottom. They must have gotten tired of waiting since I stopped to eat. They’d probably talked to Dora. I sighed, grabbed another liter of water, wetted my bandana, and began the climb out of this nonsense. Really quite unhappy about the whole situation.

The Thing happened next.

I was pulling myself up, trying not to look up at how steep this frustrating side trail was, when I noticed some motion ahead of me. I took another couple steps and looked up again. It was a bear. Running down the incline at full speed. I felt my gut sink and my mind go blank, a terror I’d felt only a handful of times ripped through me. The time when I spun out into the median on an icy interstate. When I was falling uncontrollably down an ice chute. Now, when a bear was charging me at full speed.

My body reacted before my mind caught on. I jumped to the side, barely avoiding the oncoming train. A sudden gush of wind, a creature that quite literally sprinted up and down mountains. Such a powerful being. And it kept going. Down the trail. So I kept going too.

I practically ran the next 2.5 miles and collapsed in a heap on the dirt. What had just happened? Was that real? I felt the incident crash down on me and then I cried. Hysterically I turned my phone on, hands shaking, there was reception. People. I wasn’t alone anymore. I hadn’t seen a single soul since Dora and was feeling terribly alone. Did that really happen?

I sat in the dirt and drained my phone battery. I knew I had to keep going. I couldn’t remember where we were camping. All I had remembered was “meet at water source” not “camp at mile x.”

“What if I hadn’t moved?” my betraying brain whispered.

I felt sick as I kept moving. I cried occasionally. Better to get it out now, I told myself. I wondered if it was the same bear from the day before, the one in the field. I wished not to be alone. But I had reception. That was helpful.

The rest of the day was quite frankly terrible. It took me almost six hours to go eight miles. I didn’t see a single person the whole way and I questioned my sanity on several different occasions. My fear eventually turned to anger as I powered up a final hill, hoping this is where Butters and Necktie had decided to camp. I really couldn’t recall. The last water source had been a bust and I was running on less than a liter. I was so mad. If they weren’t at this next campsite, I decided I would night hiking to the next water source. 22 mile day. Who cared.

But there they were. Fire going. I could hear them laughing, blissfully unaware. Half of my anger evaporated, they had no idea. They probably just assumed I was having a slow day. I breathed and walked into camp, a tirade spilling out of my mouth. I had my rant. I don’t even remember what words were said.

They were quiet as I set up my tent. Relief slowly filled my system and I calmed down. It turned into a really wonderful evening. The sunset was beautiful. We joked and laughed. I got to play with a campfire for quite a while. There was music. This is what thru hiking was really about, we said. It wasn’t even about the hiking. It was about the community and the moments in between.

But then a deer terrorized our campsite and I kept thinking it was a bear. So. That was a way to not sleep.