Descending Forester Pass is unbeliveable, it is like being in a dream world far from any you have imagined. The beauty of the land is humbling and overwhelming at times, sometimes so much that it brings me to tears. Especially this year, the Sierras lay snowless and welcoming and each step was enjoyable and full of wonder and magic. The rock in the Sierras shoots straight up into the sky, like a rocket ship, the sky is as deep blue as it can be, the rocks at my feet are grand and the entire view as I can see it is nothing short of perfect. It is a wonderful land out there, it is powerful and wild and special. However, descending from 13,000 feet has its downfalls, you have to climb down into valleys full of mosquitos and then climb back up each day to the next pass. Mosquitos are quite the challenge, some days I waited until after dark to stop and go to the bathroom, but even in the dark of the Sierra sky mosquitos buzz around. The buzzing after days and days and nights and nights can seriously begin to drive one nuts. Buzz, buzz, buzz all day long, buzz, buzz, buzz all night. Holy cow, I hate those blood sucking monsters. But it is a part of nature, a part of the cycle of the natural world, a cycle I love and so I manage to keep my sanity. However, there were moments that I lost it and would be screaming at the top of my lungs, "go away, leave me alone and let me be, go away you stupid things."But it is no use, up in the Sierra Mountains far above life is a peaceful place, filled with beauty and grace and down low below the rocks and in the trees lies a different world, pretty as well, but also alive with those awful, horrible, annoying, nasty, itchy things, mosquitos.... I hate them like a fat kid hates apples.
North of Forester Pass is Glenn Pass, a simple pass, pretty easy climb, but none the less epic and beautiful. I could remain on top of any of these passes forever, the views are just amazing and even now months later, though I have come and gone. I hold those moments so dear to my heart, I can remember those places and call on the memories whenever I need a moment of peace or a moment of contentment. Those moments are my savior many times now being back home. In the Sierras you don't rush to push miles, at least I don't. In 2011, during the record snow year, I would hike 10-12 hours a day and only cover maybe 12-15 miles, for a thru hiker, thats a very low mileage day. But this year, I slowed down my miles by choice and enjoyed each day, each flower, each pass, each view, and every break. I soaked up the Sierra sun and enjoyed the cool of the night that the mountains provided. There was no water crossing up to my waist or higher, no losing the Trail and no post holing this year. It was a warm, lovely experience and each day brought something special. In 2011, each day was special as well, the snow added so much beauty, but I had made it through the worst of the Sierras and I longed for a different season and this year my prayers were answered. Next comes Pinchot Pass and Mather Pass, these passes are some of the most grand places in all of the world, it is almost too difficult to explain the beauty I found out there or how I felt standing on top of those passes. There is just no words to justify what I found there or what it meant to me being there. After that, oh man, Muir Pass, Joh Muir said it right," In every walk with nature, one receives far more than he seeks." Muir Pass blows me away. I could live in that Muir hut and forever be happy, but it is illegal, so I wont. But the land up there echoes Muir's words and displays beauty in a way that most would not believe. I think this pass really spoke to me, it just excited me, it made me feel alive. Its is just wonderful there, just simply wonderful.
After Muir Pass, in my opinion, the next few passes are not as grand, they are not as special to me, they are still pretty, but it is a very different type of beauty than that found on passes like Mather or Muir. Seldon, Silver and Donohue Passes are still imprinted in my heart as great moments in my life, but they don't resonate with me like the others do. They are sort of the end of the grandiuer in the Sierras, for the PCT anyways. By the time you get up and over Silver Pass, you are at mile 890 or so and only a day from being able to resupply in Mammoth, California. North of that takes you up Donohue Pass and over near Yosemite National Park. Yosemite is a great place, however, for the thru hiker who has been out for months by this time, it is a bit like Disney World, RVs everywhere, people everywhere, noise and shops and all sorts of things that I want to escape, thats why I am a thru hiker. So though it might be a nice stop, it was a bit too much for me. I had to keep heading north because for me stopping in a place like that was robbing me of peace and time. I wanted my time to be spent out on the Trail, away from 15 dollar hamburgers and RVs, away from people who could not in their wildest of dreams comprehend what I was doing. So I kept hiking north.
At this point in on the Trail, things back at home, in my "normal" life started to crumble. My best friend, the guy who I had been dating decided to stop talking to me, stop supporting me on my journey. It tore my heart apart. We had most certainly had our issues. He had been unfaithful and had struggled with his identity in his own sexuality, he had done so much to hurt me and to break us apart. For so long, I agreed to work through all of it and still being out on the PCT 1000s of miles away from him, I agreed to do what I could to make it work. But, nothing helped, he decided to kick me out of his life and end everything we shared, even our friendship. It was devastating and it would as I learned open the door for so much stress and hurt upon returning home. Though I was sad and hurt, I kept hiking, I had to. I had promised myself I would finish this Trail and that I would be successful, that I would be strong, no matter what was to come. At times the loss was so painful, it challenged my resolve and it did threaten my success out there. I wanted to run home, to quit hiking, to fix it. I had done that last year, gotten off the Trail, ran home to him, and in the end it costed me Canada. So I was not going to do that this year, I was going to continue North, I was going to suck up the pain and hurt, I was going to allow myself as many tears as needed to get through this. I thought that by the time I got to Canada, I would be stronger about this, about the break up. I thought I could hike him out of my head and heart, I looked to the miles to help me forget him and every mile only made me miss him more.
I kept hiking and as weeks past, hiking began to be harder, to be more exhausting than usual. I had so many more miles to hike, I was still in California and had over 1,600 miles to Canada. California felt at times that it would never end. Around 1,700 miles of the PCT is spent among the landscape in California. By the time ones reaches Oregon, they can't wait to get out of California. Heading north in California from the Sierras is a bit strange. After the Sierras, California kind of returns to hot, sandy Trail. There is a ton of trees, a ton of sand, you are dirty all the time, hot and sweaty everyday, there are huge climbs, some of which are exposed and the heat in these places is awful. In a few places there are mountains, but it is nothing like the Sierras.
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