It’s so easy to hit the snooze button on my phone, which I both like and dislike – by the time I accept that the morning has come, it’s already 5:30. It’s not too long before I’m actually ready to walk, but I push it back and back until it’s 6:30. Maybe I have a food hangover or something. Continue reading
The first thing brought viscerally to my attention in the morning is how goddamn cold it is outside the safety of my sleeping bag1. Inside, it’s warmer, but not as warm as I would like it to be – my body wants to retreat into the safety of sleep, but ’tis time, ’tis time to get moving. Pineapple starting to shuffle around makes it easier to get motivated, so it’s reluctantly emerging from my cocoon to get ready for the day. Continue reading
I’m up late – my body loves this whole “real bed” thing, and it doesn’t think consciousness is appropriate until 8. Yes. I delay being vertical for a bit longer by talking with Spesh about meeting up at the end of the month; I hear Pineapple in the other room doing the same with her boyfriend. Eventually, we can delay no longer – we wanna leave our stuff here while we go and do laundry down the street, so it’s up and at ’em in our puffy jackets and rain gear skirts, getting smirks from the locals as we pass. Continue reading
Big City Mountaineers – whose mission is to get urban youth from around the country outdoors, and who I did fundraising for on the Pacific Crest Trail and Colorado Trail – is hiring for the summer of 2017! So if you’re looking for a way to get outside and help the younglings get outside while still making money (saving up for a trail in 2018?), take a look and see if your resume and their requirements are a match! Their employment page is here, and, if last year is any indication, they’ll start doing volunteer info sessions in a few months, too.
(Also, that fundraising page is still open – think we can get to a nice, round $2000 for them by the end of the year?)
Next post is a’comin!
Every town morning is always the same – barely-contained excitement, poorly tempered by the knowledge that I actually have to do miles before I get there. That’s why, I tell myself, I slow it down – we’re aiming for 7am out of camp this morning. My alarm went off half an hour before I needed it to; I’m ever the optimist, thinking I’ll get up and work on something early. Work on getting more rest, more like. Still, we make it back to the trail from the Squaw Valley trailhead by 7:15, so I call that a success. Continue reading
Pineapple’s the first one rustling – she’s so much better at this “actually listening to the alarm” thing than I am – but I’m not too far behind. Dirt Squirrel and Chili start to stir as we pack up, get a move on, but Butterscotch is still sleeping, barely starting to stir as we walk away. I wish I was him right now – the morning is beautiful, serene and soft – but walking early is the price I pay for not being as fast as my peers. Still, I take one last, longing look at the cloud-covered sky, and hope it stays that way to keep off some of the heat of the day. Continue reading
Everyone starts shuffling super early – zipping zippers, rustling food bags, talking quietly – so it’s impossible to sleep past 5:15. My stomach seems to have recovered from whatever the hell that was yesterday, and my feet are starting to itch for the trail, so I’m out quicker than expected, slipping out of camp around 6, just behind Pineapple. Continue reading
Pineapple and I are up in the dark, moving by 5:15 – with shadeless stretches galore on the docket today, we gotta beat that heat as much as we can. So it’s holding our headlamps in our hands in an effort not to trip our way down the trail until it’s finally light enough to see. We pass the tent city parked at the Lost Creek junction practically before anyone else is moving. It might be a lonely day today, but at least I’ll have Pineapple. Continue reading
I apparently turn off my alarm in the morning, wake for realsies as 6:04. Whoops. I mean, not a huge deal today because town is nigh – Old Station is about 7 miles away – but still, the earlier I get there, the earlier there are delicious breakfast foods. Still, it takes me forever to get out and moving – an hour and ten minutes, every one of them dragging itself out to try to help me. Sometimes, you just can’t be helped.
I wake late-for-me at 6, and not a human is stirring yet. I made enough noise coming in late last night, and I don’t want to bother anyone on both ends of the sleepytime clock, so I eat my dinner for breakfast in my bag. I’ve never eaten in my sleeping bag before – I’ve been a bit wary about critters of the bear-y variety – but I am sitting and warm and getting calories, and that’s kind of all a thruhiker can ask for. As I finish my dinn-fast(!), the other tents start to stir, so it’s pack up time for me. I apologize to Tumbleweed for last night’s late entry, then head out across the North Fork of the Feather and onwards. Continue reading
Brown Girl on the NST 