My eyes popped open at 7:30am. I wanted so badly to sleep, but my internal clock was saying "haha! sucks for you!" I moved in slow motion, in a haze, stuck somewhere between sleep and a daydream. Cori was still asleep. I was full of jealousy. I can't remember the last time I slept through a night. I stumbled out of our musty motel room, and greeted by the cold morning air. It was 31 degrees in the high desert, blindingly bright and breathtakingly beautiful.
Showing posts with label desert. Show all posts
Showing posts with label desert. Show all posts
Sunday, April 19, 2015
Thursday, April 16, 2015
Mono Lake
We left Shasta Trinity National Forest and headed back south. Under the advice of both friends and friendly strangers, we stopped by Mono Lake on our way to Utah. We weren't really sure what to expect but it kept being mentioned so we figured why not stop through.
The lake is located just to the east of Yosemite National Park, and serves as a major stop for migratory birds. Following our trend, we had gotten the there a few weeks before the huge influx of birds but there were still a few lingering out on the dry landscape.
The lake is located just to the east of Yosemite National Park, and serves as a major stop for migratory birds. Following our trend, we had gotten the there a few weeks before the huge influx of birds but there were still a few lingering out on the dry landscape.
Saturday, April 4, 2015
Day 2: What's Important in Life?
Lake Morena to Cibbets Campground
13.0 Miles
What's important in life? Is it how much money you make? How successful you become? The things you own? The experiences you have? The relationships you form? This question and all its potential answers have been funneling through my mind over the past two days. I'm sure for most, the answer to this question is some or all of these factors. Or maybe none of these at all.
I'm a very goal oriented person. I make up my mind to do something and I do it; at all expenses and sometimes regardless of the consequences (both positive and negative). I don't like to fail. So when we strolled into camp tonight and my partner looked at me and said she didn't think she could do this I blew her off. It took her breaking down into tears explaining in between sobs that her heart kept skipping beats and she had pain running through her chest for me to start looking beyond my own selfish goals.
Cori does have a heart condition, Wolf Parkinsons White syndome. Basically her heart has a tendency to race and/or have extra beats. She has a regular heart doctor that she sees annually who believed she would be okay out here despite the heat. She is active and healthy. She's ran marathons, played roller derby, and hiked the Appalachian Trail; all with no heart problems. On most accounts she is a healthy person. Still, the condition exists and she's had episodes in the past that caused her to modify her activity levels.
We knew this coming out here so we were careful to train and prepare ourselves to the best of our abilities. While hiking we've been extremely careful to stay hydrated and nourished. So when she first mentioned that she was in pain, that her chest hurt and she could feel her heart skipping beats which was making her uncomfortable I dismissed her. She needed to drink more water. She needed to realize that this was going to hurt. Thru-hiking hurts. We were going to be uncomfortable for a few weeks until we adjusted. She was fine. We hiked on. When we strolled into camp tonight she was in tears before she could even put her pack down. She hurt. Her heart was skipping beats and she was dizzy and nauseous. She couldn't do this. What do I say to that? OK, go home I'll see you in five months? You're being a hypochondriac drama queen. Get your shit together?
Cori and I have been together for almost six years. In that time I have seen her cry three times. Maybe. This was real. So at this point, what's important? The thought of leaving the PCT is devastating. And we just got started. But what are the consequences if I stick to my selfish goals and somehow convince her to stay with me? Daily sobbing episodes? Constant fights? Or something worse? Could she really have a heart attack? Is flirting with the line of dehydration for the next 700 miles really worth it?
No. It is not worth it. This wasn't some leg pain and sore shoulders. Tight calves and sore feet. Blisters. These things are to be expected. We were about to enter the Mojave Desert, the hottest desert in North America. We would have to hike 15-20 mile stretches in blazing heat daily just to replenish our water so we could keep ourselves hydrated.
I've come to believe that the relationships we form and the experiences we have with the ones we love are going to be what we cherish most in life. For that reason (and a few others) I am choosing to leave with Cori. Sending her home alone with no home to go to, and no job, and three dogs to pick up and take care of is not what a good partner does. I wouldn't want it done to me.
We are trying to make the best of a very devastating turn of events. We have rented a car and are making our way North. We plan on visiting Sequoia and Kings Canyon National Park, Yosemite National Park, Yellowstone National Park, and the Grand Tetons while we make our way home over the next two weeks.
The PCT will always be there. I'm sure we'll find our way out west sometime in the future.
P.S. I almost stepped on a rattle snake today and it scared the shit out of me.
Drying our stuff out in a lunch break
13.0 Miles
What's important in life? Is it how much money you make? How successful you become? The things you own? The experiences you have? The relationships you form? This question and all its potential answers have been funneling through my mind over the past two days. I'm sure for most, the answer to this question is some or all of these factors. Or maybe none of these at all.
I'm a very goal oriented person. I make up my mind to do something and I do it; at all expenses and sometimes regardless of the consequences (both positive and negative). I don't like to fail. So when we strolled into camp tonight and my partner looked at me and said she didn't think she could do this I blew her off. It took her breaking down into tears explaining in between sobs that her heart kept skipping beats and she had pain running through her chest for me to start looking beyond my own selfish goals.
Cori does have a heart condition, Wolf Parkinsons White syndome. Basically her heart has a tendency to race and/or have extra beats. She has a regular heart doctor that she sees annually who believed she would be okay out here despite the heat. She is active and healthy. She's ran marathons, played roller derby, and hiked the Appalachian Trail; all with no heart problems. On most accounts she is a healthy person. Still, the condition exists and she's had episodes in the past that caused her to modify her activity levels.
We knew this coming out here so we were careful to train and prepare ourselves to the best of our abilities. While hiking we've been extremely careful to stay hydrated and nourished. So when she first mentioned that she was in pain, that her chest hurt and she could feel her heart skipping beats which was making her uncomfortable I dismissed her. She needed to drink more water. She needed to realize that this was going to hurt. Thru-hiking hurts. We were going to be uncomfortable for a few weeks until we adjusted. She was fine. We hiked on. When we strolled into camp tonight she was in tears before she could even put her pack down. She hurt. Her heart was skipping beats and she was dizzy and nauseous. She couldn't do this. What do I say to that? OK, go home I'll see you in five months? You're being a hypochondriac drama queen. Get your shit together?
Cori and I have been together for almost six years. In that time I have seen her cry three times. Maybe. This was real. So at this point, what's important? The thought of leaving the PCT is devastating. And we just got started. But what are the consequences if I stick to my selfish goals and somehow convince her to stay with me? Daily sobbing episodes? Constant fights? Or something worse? Could she really have a heart attack? Is flirting with the line of dehydration for the next 700 miles really worth it?
No. It is not worth it. This wasn't some leg pain and sore shoulders. Tight calves and sore feet. Blisters. These things are to be expected. We were about to enter the Mojave Desert, the hottest desert in North America. We would have to hike 15-20 mile stretches in blazing heat daily just to replenish our water so we could keep ourselves hydrated.
I've come to believe that the relationships we form and the experiences we have with the ones we love are going to be what we cherish most in life. For that reason (and a few others) I am choosing to leave with Cori. Sending her home alone with no home to go to, and no job, and three dogs to pick up and take care of is not what a good partner does. I wouldn't want it done to me.
We are trying to make the best of a very devastating turn of events. We have rented a car and are making our way North. We plan on visiting Sequoia and Kings Canyon National Park, Yosemite National Park, Yellowstone National Park, and the Grand Tetons while we make our way home over the next two weeks.
The PCT will always be there. I'm sure we'll find our way out west sometime in the future.
P.S. I almost stepped on a rattle snake today and it scared the shit out of me.
Drying our stuff out in a lunch break
Day 1: Trail Angels on the First Day
Campo to Lake Morena
20 Miles
My alarm went off at 5 am this morning but I didn't need it. I was wide awake with anticipation. How was today going to go? Could I handle the heat? Would Cori be OK (she was full of nerves)?
We reached the Mexican border at Campo around 7:15. It was 34 degrees outside but the sun rising overhead made the cool morning bearable in my shorts and sun shirt. A few other hikers were already at the trailhead, excitedly strapping on their packs and preparing to head north.
We walked over to the southern terminus PCT monument whose light grey pillars stood out against the tall rusty panels of the Mexican border. Streched out in front of me was a seemingless endless stretch of shrubby green wilderness crisscrossed by by dusty dirt roads which were occupied by the occasional passing border patrol trucks.
After signing the register and taking a few photos at the border we were off.
I was heavy under the weight of my pack. The first 20 miles of the PCT are waterless, so I was carrying six liters (roughly 13 lbs.) of water to get me to Lake Morena, our intended final destination for the evening.
The trail meandered slowly along the edge of a small neighborhood and the eventually turned slightly west bringing us deeper into desert. Our climbs were gradual which was nice and the weather remained relatively cool until 11:00 when the heat started to become unbearable. Around 11:30 we took refuge in some shade to let our feet air out and to let our bodies cool down. This became our routine for the rest of the afternoon. We would hike for about two hours, find shade, air out our feet, snack and hydrate.
We made to Hauser Creek which is a dried up creek bed at mile 15 around 4:00. The was a small water cache in the creek that some nice soul had left for thirsty hikers. We didn't need to utilize it since we started off prepared to make it to Lake Morena but it gave us an opportunity to stop short and camp if we wanted to. After some discussion we decided to push on.
The climb out of Hauser Creek was long, hot, and exposed. I began to question our decision to push on as my heart pounder in my chest and me feet began to throb beneath me. We took it slow, drank plenty of water, and stumbled into Lake Morena Campground around 7 pm.
As we made our way towards the ranger station to check in and pay for a campsite a woman came running over to us. "Are y'all PCT hikers? Yes ma'am" we replied back. "We have plenty of food. Why don't you two come on over and get something to warm to eat. Save your dehydrated stuff for another night." Her name was Cheryl and she was camping with three of her friends. They all worked in the education system and were there relaxing on Spring Break. I was in heaven and no longer regretted our decision to move forward. As we made our plates they also offered us to the chance to camp at their site for the evening which was already paid for.
It was a perfect ending to a tough day.
20 Miles
My alarm went off at 5 am this morning but I didn't need it. I was wide awake with anticipation. How was today going to go? Could I handle the heat? Would Cori be OK (she was full of nerves)?
We reached the Mexican border at Campo around 7:15. It was 34 degrees outside but the sun rising overhead made the cool morning bearable in my shorts and sun shirt. A few other hikers were already at the trailhead, excitedly strapping on their packs and preparing to head north.
We walked over to the southern terminus PCT monument whose light grey pillars stood out against the tall rusty panels of the Mexican border. Streched out in front of me was a seemingless endless stretch of shrubby green wilderness crisscrossed by by dusty dirt roads which were occupied by the occasional passing border patrol trucks.
After signing the register and taking a few photos at the border we were off.
I was heavy under the weight of my pack. The first 20 miles of the PCT are waterless, so I was carrying six liters (roughly 13 lbs.) of water to get me to Lake Morena, our intended final destination for the evening.
The trail meandered slowly along the edge of a small neighborhood and the eventually turned slightly west bringing us deeper into desert. Our climbs were gradual which was nice and the weather remained relatively cool until 11:00 when the heat started to become unbearable. Around 11:30 we took refuge in some shade to let our feet air out and to let our bodies cool down. This became our routine for the rest of the afternoon. We would hike for about two hours, find shade, air out our feet, snack and hydrate.
We made to Hauser Creek which is a dried up creek bed at mile 15 around 4:00. The was a small water cache in the creek that some nice soul had left for thirsty hikers. We didn't need to utilize it since we started off prepared to make it to Lake Morena but it gave us an opportunity to stop short and camp if we wanted to. After some discussion we decided to push on.
The climb out of Hauser Creek was long, hot, and exposed. I began to question our decision to push on as my heart pounder in my chest and me feet began to throb beneath me. We took it slow, drank plenty of water, and stumbled into Lake Morena Campground around 7 pm.
As we made our way towards the ranger station to check in and pay for a campsite a woman came running over to us. "Are y'all PCT hikers? Yes ma'am" we replied back. "We have plenty of food. Why don't you two come on over and get something to warm to eat. Save your dehydrated stuff for another night." Her name was Cheryl and she was camping with three of her friends. They all worked in the education system and were there relaxing on Spring Break. I was in heaven and no longer regretted our decision to move forward. As we made our plates they also offered us to the chance to camp at their site for the evening which was already paid for.
It was a perfect ending to a tough day.
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