Heartbroken at mile 1018

I made it to Bridgeport, mile 1018, and I decided that I needed to go back home to Colorado for a few days. It has been a hard lesson to learn that out on the Trail, life at home happens no matter what your facing on the Trail, and you can't ignore life, even when it hurts more than you believe you can handle. I guess I have also learned that even when you want to be anywhere else than alone inside of your own heart and head, you have to stay in it, you have to allow even the worse of feelings to run their course and no matter how uncompfortable it may be, you can't run away from them.
The last miles of the Trail have been just as daunting as the last few weeks have been. There is still very much snow even down low, the rivers and creeks are still raging and the Trail in most places is still lost or covered in snow and water. Days are spent searching for the Trail and trying to push miles so I can feel as though I am making progress towards going north. I have fallen through the snow and ended up chest deep in a waterfall, one night at camp in the middle of the night my campsite got flooded; I had to move up onto a snow bank for the rest of the night, I have had to hike 1 or 2 miles up and down creeks to find a crossing and even when I do it is still very high water and fast, I have bush wacked miles and miles praying that I was going the correct way, there was one section where the Trail was covered by a snow mound about 200 feet long and 2 inches wide and I had to crawl across, hoping I would not fall into the raging river 5 feet below me. I have seen the best of the Sierras and their power is ever so real.
I have been struggling with being away from home, and I realized going back to Colorado that I was so homesick and lonely because I have such great people in my life. I had to go home to regain my desire to keep going and I had to face why I felt so sad and heartbroken. I have loved him for so long and the thought of losing him, was too much to bear, so I hitch hiked 120 miles from Bridgeport to Reno, got on a flight, ended up in Denver and faced the life I left behind in April. I came to find out that things will be okay in time and that love is fragile. I am now back in Reno, and I am heading out to the Trail tonight, to hike north, to Canada. I can't deny the fact that I hurt so badly inside right now, but maybe the rest of my hike will allow me to grow, allow me to experience what I need, and I trust that the remainder of my hike will bring good things. As for love, well, I think we are going to be okay.

1642 miles left, I hope to be in Canada by the middle of October.

The Sierras

Well, I am at mile 906 and the last two weeks in the Sierras have been more amazing, difficult, scary, and long than I ever thought possible. The Sierras have had a record snow year, so with all the snow and snow melt is has made the PCT into a really crazy place. My days have been spent climbing up snow covered passes 12,000 feet and higher, climbing ridges, up and over rock walls, scrambling up rock faces, glisading, fording rivers and creeks that are up to my waist and searching for the trail, which is washed away by snow melt, flooded, covered in snow or under fallen trees. Some places look like a hurricane aftermath and other places look like a winter wonderland, filled with magic and so much beauty. I solo climbed Mt. Whitney 14,496 ft, which was the easiest part of my time out there, and enjoyed the summit all to myself for over an hour, wow, how the world looks so different at 14,000 feet, it is a very intense feeling to be up so high in such an inspiring and beautiful place.

The views have been incredible, each better than the last. The rock out here shoots straight up in the sky, the water roars down every direction around me, the meadows are flooded, the woods are wet and cold, and the mountains sit in the backdrop as if they are old wise dogs patiently waiting to teach those who wander in about life, the wilderness, and about the wonder that is only found in places such as the Sierras. It is a very special place, a place that offers no break to people who wander in and desire rest, reassurance and direction, the snow makes the Sierras more difficult, but it adds so much beauty and life to the landscape. I have feared for my life many times out there while fording rivers and creeks or climbing up passes,which have no trail, at any moment, with any minor wrong footing or slip it can be over and mentally that has been a lot to deal with. The true power of the wild has shown itself  to me out here. I have never felt so lonely and even with other thru hikers around me, the loneliness has been intense and the mental and physical strength and focus has worn me out. I feel like such a different person now.I am not completely sure at just what makes me so different, but I feel different. I feel strong, but broken, I feel bitter sweet about the decision to continue on the trail, I am not sure what the right thing is to do. Within myself I am going through a lot right now and I am not sure what to make of it. I have seen beauty few will ever see and experienced life in ways I never saw myself doing. I have overcome fear and dealt with days of wet feet, cold and wet conditions, losing the trail, getting lost, climbing snowy passes, and fording water. I am not sure of where I am at right now and I have some thinking to do. I would love to finish the trail, but after 906 miles, I may just have all I need. I need some reflection and time in a safe place and that is why I am in Mammoth Lakes. I need to figure out where to go and whether or not the PCT is what I want. However, no matter what happens, the Sierras will always hold a place in my heart and it will always be a good reminder that the wild is truly WILD, that the power it has is stronger than anything else.