A Pacific Crest Trail story

“I haven’t felt them in 3 months. They’re numb” She was talking about her feet. I guess that means they got numb halfway between Mexico and Mt. Hood. 

Her: Is this campground just for car people? 

Me:  No, it’s open to everyone. Are you a Through Hiker?

Yes, she said. She told me that she was from the UK. I told her that we had an extra space on the other side of the campground. 

I went back to Site #28. The kids were there. We had a big ice chest filled with all sorts of goodies. I found two Costco apple danishes, some chocolate covered almonds and a soft white sandwich roll. I put them on a tree stump near her backpack. 

We were playing Scrabble on a picnic table when she came over to thank us. 

She said we’d turned her terrible day around. She’d been feeling trail sick.

Her whole trip was planned to easily finish at the Canadian Border with “lovely” days of hiking and enough time to take a short vacation in Vancouver. But Covid intervened. The Border was closed and now she couldn’t fly out of Canada anymore. She had to figure out some way to get back to Seattle to catch her flight. 

This meant she needed to pick up her pace. Finish more miles per day. 

Like 27. Day in. Day out. For day after day. 27 miles every single day. Carrying a heavy pack at altitudes reaching 10,000 feet.

One of my kids asked her if she had always been a hiker. She said her former “hike” had been from the sofa to the fridge. Not an athlete. But her best friend had suggested she watch “Wild”. And then she read the book 3 times. And one time when she was in the bath, the sidebar of her computer announced that tomorrow was the last day to apply for one of 3000 annual permits to walk the Pacific Crest Trail. 12,000 applied. She was on the list.

Eventually, that same friend died just days before she left on her journey. But not before she was the “Best Man” in her best friend’s wedding. And now she was walking up and down mountains, across deserts. Thinking about life. 

When we got up the next morning, our fuzzy braided neighbor was already packed up and gone. Poof! Just like that. Meeting her reminded me again that life isn’t always easy. Sometimes things seem impossible. But in life (and in love) when you keep putting one foot in front of the next, you’ll get there. 

If you’re having trouble putting one foot in front of the other in your life (or your love life,) email me. It may not be exactly like hiking the Pacific Crest Trail but living with another human being can be a long slog too. I got you.