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Day 3: first trees

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Day 3
Miles: 11
Cibbetts flat campground to Mt Laguna

I feel completely exposed – J and I are lying on a groundsheet in the middle of a campground, surrounded by people coming out of their tents and RVs. We’re not really that close to them, but it’s like having people in your bedroom. I turn over on my air mattress. “Is it time? ” I ask J.
“Yeah, I guess we’ll do this. Are we gonna be bandits?” he replies.
“Sure.”
We start getting ready to sneak out of the campground. We’d meant to walk the extra 1/4 mile last night, so we wouldn’t be in the fee campground, but just couldn’t make it. Our “sneaking out” is somewhat leisurely – I’m just not moving very fast.

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Day 2: keep walking

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Day 2
Miles: 18.4
Hauser Creek to Cibbetts Flat Campground

I have all these things I meant to write but it’s the end of the day and I’m just a muddle of exhaustion. A muddle puddle of tired tired tired.

I wake up to easy morning light, J next to me. All around us are beautiful little campspots, but it seems like J and I managed to pick the ugliest one. The only flat spot on it was infested with the biggest ants I’ve ever seen (and I lived in the Amazon for two years) so we set up on the steep side. We’re a couple feet from where we started last night. I feel – cautiously optimistic. I rebandage my blisters and it’s time to go.

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Day 1: Tired feet

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5/2/2014
Day 1
Miles: 15

I’m a flustered mess. I’ve been searching in my pile of stuff for some toothpaste for nearly an hour and everyone is waiting. I finally throw in a different tube and we all head out. “Why is your backpack dripping,” asks my sister. “Uh, it shouldn’t be,” I say as I swing it down. The culprit seems to be an untightened lid on my camelbak, but during the inspection I discover a small hole in the bottom of my pack. “G, seriously, get it together” I think. Then I realize I can’t find my sarong but it’s time to go. 
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Day 0: the beach

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Day: 0
Miles: 0

Speeding through night towards San Diego, J said, “So don’t hate me, but would you entertain the idea of not starting hiking tomorrow, and taking a beach day instead?”

I instantly hated the idea. Another day of STILL not starting? Then my exhaustion punched me in the face and told me to come to my senses.

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Fuel for the fire (food logistics)

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I think Tucson is trying to tell me to get out of town. It’s getting hotter every day and I keep running into crazies.

Yesterday J and I were driving around running errands. We pulled into a right-hand turn lane and a white Acura swerved in front of us erratically. “Honk at him!” I shouted indignantly. I hate it when people aren’t paying attention. So J did.

But then when we both turned right, the guy driving the Acura slowed down so he was next to us, looked at us, and then pulled behind us. And just that fast I went from being irritated to being afraid we were going to get shot. Everybody and their mother has a concealed carry permit in this state.

“What now??” panicked J.
“Get the heck onto Dodge!” I exclaimed back. J pulled into the left-hand turn lane for Dodge Street, which was where we were going anyhow. Dude in the Acura pulled in right behind us. “Now what?” said J. There was no one in the lane next to us, so I told him to swerve back into main traffic, out of the left-hand turn lane. So did the dude. I had my phone out and was dialing 911 when the guy finally switched lanes and passed us, then turned right onto another street. J and I went a couple miles past where we were headed, then went back a different way. I’m never going to honk at anybody ever again.

Once we were rid of the white acura, it was back to errands. I sure hope that hiking the PCT isn’t as tiring (or nerve-wracking) as getting ready for it.

While we were out and about and getting chased around town, J and I finished our last big shopping run. At least, I sure hope it’s my last shopping run. For someone who’s made most of her own gear, I’ve sure spent some astonishing sums at REI lately. I’m finding myself particularly vulnerable to slick, outdoorsy marketing these days (why, I DO need a beautiful new titanium mug, how did you know?).  However, along with the last REI run we also blew a couple hundred bucks on groceries and I think we’re ready to get started. Buncha granola-type stuff (“we’re gonna be nuttier than squirrel poop”, says J) along with lots of healthy grub like meat sticks and coconut macaroons. It seems impossible that we’ll starve.

I’ve found myself totally overwhelmed by the food resupply. I don’t know what I want to eat tomorrow – how could I possibly know what I want to eat five months from now? Food selection aside, how will I know how MUCH I want to eat five months from now? For now, the plan is to mail resupply to a few locations, and then just buy what’s available at the rest. We’ll stage in sections – we’re only sending boxes for the Southern California area before we leave. It will a relief to be on the trail and to actually know things – like how many miles we can hike a day, every day, or how many larabars I really want to eat.

I still need to pack my house.

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Grub.

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More grub.

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Check that off the bucket list

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Well, I can check root canals off my bucket list now.

I hear my alarm go off this morning, so I turn it off and roll over. A bit later, it seems like it’s getting pretty light out. “I wonder what time it is,” I think. I check the clock – plenty of time to get to work – then I remember: “I’ve got to get to my dentist appointment!”

No time to stress, and I’m out the door in five minutes, on time. The endodontist office is very swank. The endodontist himself is young, clean-cut, wearing a hawaiian shirt. He introduces himself by his first name. After looking at my x-rays he tells me that chances are really good that I don’t actually need a root canal, just a regular filling. That’s exactly what my dentist said, so I’m feeling hopeful. I even keep my fingers crossed as the drilling begins.

“Whoa, this is really big,” says first-name endodontist. He follows up with, “yes, there’s the pulp. Looks like it’s a root canal.”

I want to swear, but there’s a dude with his hand in my mouth. I say “uhn” instead and uncross my fingers.

The root canal itself isn’t bad. There’s a tv on the ceiling with a looping dvd of Dale Chihuly glass pieces set in gently moving grass and on ponds. It’s surprisingly soothing, and I think about flamingos while the endodontist dude grinds the decay away. I wish for earplugs, but then think that I’m probably hearing the drill vibrations straight through my jawbone. When he finishes I realize I’ve sweated through my shirt.

Now I just need to find out how long it’s going to take to get a crown made and put in. It looks like this is going to be the limiting factor for my PCT start date, as it will take a few weeks. I really want to get started before May. I’d cross my fingers again but it hasn’t been that effective so far. Anyhow, can’t take off while I’m missing bits of my teeth, so maybe there will be time to train a bit after all.

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Root canals and chores

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The great fount of knowledge, the internet, tells me that more and more PCT hikers are starting the trip EVERY DAY. Every day. And while my engineering exam looms frighteneningly large, the extra week and half to starting hiking seems like a long ways away.

Which is good, really. I’m not ready. I finally went to the dentist today, and now I’ve got to cram in a root canal along with all my other chores. I should have gone to the dentist last month. Last year, or even the year before would have been the real adult thing to do. The only thing worse than procrastinating my 3 year overdue dental appointment to 3 weeks before I start hiking would have been to not go at all… So there’s that.

This adult business is still a stretch for me sometimes. I’ve got high school buddies with four kids and counting, and I can’t make myself a dental appointment. I wonder how they do it. Does becoming a parent magically make you more responsible? Maybe it’s some hormone, your body secretes during pregnanacy. Or perhaps there is an evolutionary reason why you can’t remember your first 4 years of life. The universe was just trying to cut your parents a break.

Speaking of parents, J’s were in town this weekend, taking a sunshiney break from what’s turned out to be a very long northeast winter. Seems like it’s been 75 and sunny here forever. (We had a partially cloudy day a week ago, with what *might* have been the faintest sprinkling of rain, and half my office congregated on the balcony to watch it mist.)

J and I took his parents up the Santa Ritas one day and then on a jaunt on Mt Lemmon the next, to squeeze in the whole eco-spectrum of saguaro to oak to ponderosa pine. In an extra stroke of luck, Mt Lemmon was blooming with every wildflower I’ve ever seen.

We did two 7 mile days in a row… I’m really tired… I’ve got a feeling the PCT is gonna be a rough start.
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Flotsam and gearsam

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There are so many tiny odds and ends that I still need, that I just know I need, for this trip. I keep acquiring these bits, flotsam and detritus of gear, tiny LED lights, bitty leathermans, featherweight mirrors, lengths of skinny cord. I don’t think I’ve made it all the way to the lightweight mentality yet – what’s lighter than lightweight? Nothing. Oh well. I’ll shake the crumbs out as I go. Can’t turn myself into hiker trash overnight.

Today I went to REI to fill my need for consumer goods. The aisles filled with nifty gadgets and ingenious gizmos failed to contain almost everything I was looking for. Shiny items all down the row and an empty hanger for me. I paid for most my new, pricey crumbs with a refund on a broken water filter (if anyone decides to buy the katadyn vario, be careful with it – the intake nipple broke off on the first use). Despite having had the filter for years, the first time I tried to use it was a few weeks back, and it broke. Looks like I’ll be replacing it with something else.

Then when I tried to take it back at the checkout, the manager at REI informed me that the return policy had changed. What?? Isn’t the magical return policy the entire reason anyone shops at REI? I always wondered how that policy was working out for them; turns out it wasn’t. (For the curious, you can now only return items within the first year after purchase.) After hassling me a bit the manager ended up giving me the refund anyway, looking the whole time like I’d spat in her breakfast. Serving up favors with a side of scowl, I guess. I can’t see the point of helping somebody out if you’re just going to be mean about it, but I’ll take the refund and skedaddle.

I wish it was time to go, that all the chores were done and apartments cleaned and boxed and licensing exams writ and nowhere to go but forward.

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Gearing Up, part 1

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Deciding to hike the Pacific Crest Trail turned out to be just one of many decisions. My initial online sleuthing sent me out into deep morass of innumerable options. The internet quickly informed me that the backpacking gear I already owned wasn’t good enough, light enough, or awesome enough, but couldn’t seem to come to a consensus about just what gear WAS good enough, light enough, or awesome enough.

About this time, I ended up randomly chatting with a guy at a coffee shop who had hiked the PCT the year before. Not only that, he’d managed to squeeze all 2,660 miles in his summer break from med school. His secret? The Ray-way, pioneered by Ray Jardine.

“He’s the king of backpacking ultra-light,” said random guy. “I carried less weight and hiked 30 miles a day.”

Well!

I’d heard Ray Jardine’s name before, but only in a climbing context. He invented a new piece of gear, the “Friend”, that ended up revolutionizing traditional rock climbing. I’ve taken falls on them before myself, and a Friend in need truely is a friend indeed.

Anyhow, gotta trust somebody.

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6 months leave

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I went to talk to my boss today. After discussing some details on my current assignment, I turned, closed the door, and said: “I’d like to take 6 months off. Is that ok?” He said, “well, sure.”

So this is real. I’m really going to hike the pacific crest trail.

I was undecided for a while on whether I should ask for a leave of absence or just quit my job altogether. The idea of being totally free, totally uncommitted to anything but my dream – it’s appealing, but I’m not ready to go there, not yet. I’m ready to let go of the paycheck for a while, but not the job title. I’ll be an Engineer for a little while longer.

Gear-wise, I’m almost ready. J is working on our two-person shelter, but otherwise we’re down to odds and ends. I’ll get a gear list together before we go for the gear junkies out there – maybe even find a scale and weigh everything. I don’t weigh myself, so why weigh my pack? It’s about twice as light as my old backpacking setup – no scale needed to figure that out.

It keeps coming together…

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