Dear Trail Friends,
TRAIL JOURNAL. As the poet Robert Burns said "The well-laid plans of mice and men gang oft aglay. "(Or something like that. ) I imagined a very short day and sleeping at Feather River, where comments in my gps app led me to believe I would find nice camping and a swim-able river. But alas the river was not swim-able, and at 2:15 when I arrived the tent site was in full glaring sun, no shade. It did not seem restful. Alas there were no tent sites listed until Drakesbad (in my original plan, the place I was to arrive for resupply on July 20).
I made the more or less irrevocable choice and then walked as fast as I could, hoping to make it for dinner. I needed that to motivate what for me was a big physical challenge. A hiker who passed me checked and said the dinner for PCT hikers was served from 6 to 7. I didn't think I could walk the 9.6 miles between Feather River and Drakesbad in less than 5 hours, since I would need rest stops. But as it turned out, I turned on my music, lengthened my strides, sacrificed rest stops and arrived at 6:45. (And I got lost once and after considerable time spent finding my way back to the trail, proceeded to walk south for a quarter mile until I reached the park entry sign (photo 1) for the second time and realized I had been going backwards. I think I have dyslexia for spatial directions.
I am writing by the way sitting up in my sleeping bag with both my (I forgot the name of the wool mask that covers my head and neck with a small opening for my face) and wool beanie on, as well as my wool-possum fur fingerless gloves. I am "cowboy"camped (no tent) here at Warner Valley Campground near Drakesbad Lodge. I came here after dinner and it was already dark so I decided not to set up my tent.
I'm trying to decide if the narrative thread will be easier to follow if I now talk about dinner, which I in fact arrived in time for, or if I go back to the morning and how the day began?
I think I want to show you photo 2, a photo I took of a large framed photo at the Best Western, which I saw on my way out of breakfast. It reminded me of the time I saw salmon jumping into the nets Native American fishermen held out for them. It was such an amazing capture of an intense moment. But I also admired that bear. Just opening his mouth to receive whatever jumps in. The bear's courage to open to receive the unknown. The salmon's courage to leap into the unknown. I think this photo symbolizes my day for met, or at least set the mood for my day. (Sorry for the reception room light reflected in the glass over the photo. My photo can't do the original justice, but you get the idea).
I did sleep late and wait for the trail angel to pick me up at 8am. I started walking at 8:30. I noticed an arrow-shaped rock I wanted to pick up (it seemed to capture one of the great lessons of the trail: just keep going on. ) Not wanting to actually pick it up and carry it home on my backpack, I decided to take a picture (photo 3)
And of course my urge to collect the arrow shaped rock made me think of all the heart shaped rocks I have collected. I like imagining that such rocks are a love message and blessing from the mystery. So photo 4 is the next heart shaped rock I came upon.
Chris, who can't see the point in heart shaped rocks to begin with, never thinks the ones that I find are sufficiently heart shaped. I can almost hear her saying "That's not a very good one. " But I liked finding it (so there).
The morning walk was beautiful and filled with wonderful contemplation. I love how the rhythm of walking and the great open spaces (as well as the comforting presence of trees) all seem to nurture thoughts that are open and free. I thought a lot about my writing, that of others in my writing group, why we write -- and a lot about relationships, about giving and receiving pardon, and giving and receiving gratitude. Then Mt Lassen appeared again, getting closer, actually it appeared again and again and again. And I thought about the idea of a mountain as a kind of guardian angel, a spirit being with power to bless and protect. These mountains are such powerful presences that it isn't hard to imagine.
Last but not least, when I got lost my wrong turn took me along a beautiful meadow so beautiful that I paused to photograph it. You can't tell but it's half meadow, half marsh. And in the marsh, water lilies float. So wrong turns bring their beauties and blessings, don't they? And I still made it to dinner.
To be continued in Day 5, part 2. (Don't miss part 2, it's all about dinner!)
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