Through the Portal
As I sit writing this, it’s day 18 on my Pacific Crest Trail journey. Things are going amazingly well partly because of the excellent weather we’ve been having here in the Cascades. There is much to talk about, but I find myself wanting to circle back to the beginning of the journey. The hardest night of the trail so far was the night before I started walking.
I spent the night in a hiker hostel in the North Cascades mountain-town of Mazama with my border escort crew Coco and Jeanne, all the months of planning behind me and ready to begin. The sense of restlessness, anxiety and scatter were relentless that evening, and it was hard to relax into the festive environment of the hostel. I felt my gear being scattered all around camp, electronics, charging at the charging station, tent set up in a camp spot, food still in the car, but most of all sense of still clinging to all that I was leaving behind: my home, my daughter, my dog, my friends. Part of me was leaning forward into the journey ahead of me and part of me was still looking back in the rearview mirror.
The portal between two worlds is an uncomfortable place, and it seemed there was nothing I could do to relieve the edginess. It simply had to be endured until morning came and it was finally time to drive to the trailhead.
The scenery got better and better from the car as we made our way up the dirt road to Harts Pass. When we finally had our packs perfected and stepped onto the trail, there were mountains in every direction and 30 miles ahead of us to the Canadian border. All my anxiety melted away. Now there was a job to do that I could actually lean into. My border escort crew could not have been more perfect. They were strong, experienced hikers and in such good spirits the whole time as they escorted me the 60 miles to the border and back, appreciating the beauty of the wilderness, the wildflowers and the bird songs. Their willingness to drive to the North Cascades with me and hike this first 60 miles was a gift that I am so grateful for. We shared the beauty and joy of the wilderness as well as plenty of laughter, problem-solving, and navigating through the patches of remaining snow safely together. In the end, they were both inspired to want to return to the Pacific Crest Trail someday.
Four days later, Jeanne and Coco left me at Harts Pass to continue my way south as they took my car home to Montana. Each time I have come to a town there is a sense of entering the portal again, getting close to civilization, getting confused by incoming messages and checking email, the longing to see and hug my daughter again. And each time I return to the trail, I am invited back into the simplicity of Trail Life: walking south, finding the next water source, making sure I’m eating enough food, looking for an appropriate place to camp. As I walk, I am serenaded by the songs of my Pacific Northwest Forest birds, the bird songs of my childhood.
Going into town is a necessary part of thru-hiking a long trail. Everyone needs to re-supply food, do some laundry and repair or replace gear from time to time. However, I find I am not in a hurry to get to the next town and when I get there, I do not prefer to linger. As I approach my fourth town, I think I am getting better at moving in and out of the portal without disturbing the balance, rhythm and simplicity, I am finding on the trail.
