The Trail Will Provide
This trail just doesn’t get any easier physically, emotionally or logistically. I am a day and a half away from Kennedy Meadows South, the official end of the Sierra and beginning of the desert section. The landscape is looking dry already, and I carried 5 liters of water uphill 6 miles to a dry camp last night. Carrying water will be one of the new realities of the next 700 miles. I was deeply tired for two full days after climbing Mount Whitney, and although I feel somewhat better physically today, the thought of hiking the next 700 miles by myself seems overwhelming. I am surprised to find that even this far into the journey I still have thoughts of quitting the trail and going home. Only my fear of regret outweighs the sense of dread and overwhelm of continuing on alone. Regret is an unpleasant emotion to live with.
Once in Kennedy Meadows I can leave my bear canister behind which weighs two and a half pounds and will no longer be required. We leave the threat of bears and enter the world of rattlesnakes, tarantulas and water scarcity. Today will be mostly downhill, and as I leave the high Sierras I am looking down into valleys and distant ridges, all of which are unfamiliar to me. There are hills and valleys, pinyon pine and juniper in every direction, but there is no feature of the landscape stands out and not one thing I know by name. I feel disoriented, and other than knowing that I am heading southbound on the PCT, I feel lost.
Sadly, my would-be new trail partner, Puddles, fell and broke her wrist the day I was climbing up Mount Whitney. She had to hike out to get medical care and will not return to the trail this year. I never saw her again. They say the ‘the trail will provide’ but I think the trail giveth and the trail taketh away. I hiked those next two days alone. It is remarkable how quickly the sense of isolation sets in when hiking and camping alone. The weight of every decision, where to camp, how much water to carry, how many miles is enough for the day, seems so much greater when alone. A decision shared is a burden halved.
On the third day post Whitney, I caught up with Liz, and we hiked into Kennedy Meadows together. As we approached the general store, which we knew would not be open yet, there were already a handful of hikers assembled on the porch who gave us a round of applause as we walked up. This is a tradition at Kennedy Meadows and earns you a sticker that says “I got the clap at mile 702" (Kennedy Meadows is at mile 702 in the traditional northbound direction). I never know what to expect when I arrive in a “town“. Kennedy Meadows has a stated population of 200 but the year-round population is actually less than 50. There is really nothing here but a general store with a large shaded deck, string lighting and picnic tables, a kitchen, and a very friendly cook named Sweet Potato who took pity on us and opened early. He began cranking out breakfast consisting of huge blueberry pancakes, mushroom omelettes, hashbrowns, bacon, and sausage. Yes, all of that on one big plate! After breakfast, $10 buys you a shower and laundry which can hang dry on the clothes line while you eat ice cream on the deck wearing your rain gear, chatting with other hikers and catching up on your phone calls.
Yogi picked us up in her car and drove us to her gear store just a couple of miles away. The store is located in a converted shipping container and is incredibly well stocked with every kind of gear a thru-hiker needs. At this point on the trail, clothing is wearing out and gear is beginning to fail, so a lot of money was spent by this group of about ten hikers (two car loads) making it well worth the owners time to drive the shuttle between the general store and her shop. Yogi had also equipped her shop with a long shaded picnic table painted with a map of the PCT upon which sat a huge selection of nail polish which was just what we needed! It was fun to watch people sit down and dive into the nail painting activity almost as greedily as we dove into breakfast. We have all been deprived of crafting, creativity and color, so I think this filled certain need.
Once all the ‘chores’ were done, we tucked in to hamburgers, onion rings, and cold beer for dinner, defending our food from the aggressive panhandling of the resident tabby cat and ancient cataract-ridden miniature Australian shepherd as the sun set and the shadows lengthened. We were allowed to camp on the property for free. This place is truly a hiker-friendly haven and a very welcome respite after a challenging 350 miles in the Sierra mountains. If not for PCT thru-hiker traffic, I’m not sure how this place would survive. It’s a lovely symbiotic relationship. The trail does provide. It lifts you up again after knocking you flat. All the fellowship taking place here will disperse along the trail as we each hike out when we are ready to go, and it will be hard not to feel lonely again. But for now, I am basking in the fellowship of hikers, the kindness of strangers and the charm of a small town general store.
