Day 11, July 24 - Part 1

Part 1  - Day 11, Sunday, July 24. From  PCT campground, mile 1415.87, elev. 2972, to Burney Falls state park entrance and to and around Burney Falls loop trail. Then hitch hiked to Mt. Shasta. 

Dear Trail Friends,

TRAIL JOURNAL. Got up with the sun, packed and walked toward the park entrance and the loop trail around the falls. I am glad I did. At 129 ft, these are pretty spectacular falls. (Niagara Falls are 165 ft, to give a little perspective. ). I got some wonderful photos but I would really like to upload a video to give you sound and motion. However, to do that I apparently have to first upload to YouTube or Vimeo, which I am not eager to do (or learn how to do) so we will stay with the photos (1-5). 

 

 

 

 

 

The falls made me think of that mysterious "force" we call gravity that keeps us connected to the earth and in some sense moves and choreographs the stars. When I am in inverted pose, my back and head on the ground, I often picture gravity as the "hand of God" holding me, and I just surrender and allow myself to be held. I thought of waterfalls as a river surrendering to and trusting gravity. In my 20s I read the book Gravity or Grace by Simone Weil. It was a major influence on my spiritual life. But now I think her distinction ( as I remember, grace is the downward tug of fear, anger, vindictiveness; grace the upward pull to love) and her polarizing of these two, may oversimplify the world. I mean there are these mysterious forces that pull us into our place in the larger dance. We divide them into good/bad and gravity/grace but they really are bigger than we are, or than we can wrap our words or science or theology around. I thought of the falls as representing the beauty of the world, when we are able to surrender to the forces greater than we are. In any case, the falls were beautiful. I also thought, maybe death, maybe all of aging can be like these falls. A beautiful, glorious falling into the arms of gravity/God/the Unknown. A beautiful, glorious place to celebrate the end of my section hike. I hear in the daytime these falls can be crowded, but I experienced them in total solitude. 

After the falls, I found my way to highway 89 (I realized that there was nowhere to go but I5, so everyone would pass by the city Mt Shasta, so I didn't need a sign about where I was going. ) hitch hiking is really casting on self onto the winds of the unknown (or falling into the hands of gravity?) and because I am far more afraid of the human unknown than the wilderness unknown, hitch hiking requires a lot of courage from me. Perhaps in part symbolically,  I was scared I wouldn't be able to find 89, or figure out which way was north (did I forget I had a compass? ) so was most relieved to see the sign (photo 6). 

 

To be continued