Day 6, July 19

Day 6, Tuesday, July 19. ZERO miles walked. ZERO feet elevation change. 

Dear Trail Friends,

I rested a lot today and also picked up my resupply box, after a scare last night being told it wasn't on the list (of boxes received) --and then spending a good part night thinking how I would improvise if it had in fact gotten lost. 

I slept tent-free under the stars and moon -- as I mentioned when writing yesterday's blog. I had a breakfast of bacon and eggs, did my laundry, showered, sat around being still and listening to music, reorganized my resupply stuff and repacked my pack. I said goodbye to Prince and Mary Poppins, after exchanging email addresses. Still found it uncanny how much Prince reminded me of nephew Elliot. In one way Prince also reminded me of my brother Scott. He spoke of how a career making his living by music had nearly ruined his relationship with music. He decided he didn't want to mix the business of earning a living with music. "I believe in the separation of church and state," he said. "Render into Caeser was is Caeser's and unto God what is God's." I responded. We were having fun. My brother too found that the joy of making his beautiful pottery was contaminated by the business of making money.  Very few people (I think ) can combine their art/passion/play with their paid work without loss. Chris is one of the lucky ones. 

It is fun to talk with other hikers. The long walk is a time of reflection and many are in great transition, having give up one home and/ or job and not knowing where or what the next one will be. Not all have a conscious sense of pilgrimage, but some do. On a more mundane level, it's fun to talk about gear and strategies for dealing with long stretches without water. 

I notice that I am telling a lot of people that I am nearly done -- less than 300 miles to go, and that I am feeling very proud. I also notice how pulled I feel to hike the PCT again, maybe see if I can do it in two years. But we will see what comes. I feel like the bear hanging out with my mouth open waiting for whatever will jump in, or the salmon throwing myself upstream (from yesterday's photo in part 1). 

At dinner I met quite a few other hikers and I ended up having 6 or 7 young (and middle-aged) men sharing my campsite: a few small tents, others camping cowboy-style like me.  Leading them to the campsite after dinner, I felt like a den mother or Wendy (of Peter Pan). As we walked to the camp, one young man commented he had not seen a bear his whole hike. Having said that, he said "There's a bear." And sure enough there in the woods not more than 100 feet away was a lovely blond bear with a brown face, shyly watching us. 

By the time I went to bed (I am writing now the next morning at my breakfast stop) I realized I was restless and itchy to be walking, also for solitude. Zero days are alright but I have seldom discovered the joy in them that I find on the trail. (Though ironically one of the real joys of the trail is looking forward to zero days!)

I was surprised that I took no photos, made no short hikes to boiling lakes or sulphuric springs, did not make it to the hot springs pool (in my defense, it was being drained and not available until late last night, past my bedtime, or early this morning, and involves a third of a mile walk back, away from the PCT trailhead. But I am surprised by my lack of exploratory energy at this rest stops. And yet that seems to be what makes me happiest. Do the work I need to do at these stops. Then be still and do nothing. 

POOP JOURNAL. There really wasn't a trail journal this time since I did no miles and there isn't really a poop journal either. There was no dramatic consequence of my liberation-eating. No great worsening. No sudden cure. I think I had less seepage but certainly still needed pads -- 5 for the day not 10, better than some days, worse than others. I did have one overflow onto my newly cleaned underpants which annoyed me. The biggest change though is my own attitude. I am not worrying. I am much more relaxed about it. Ho hum. Poop again. When I was talking with Mary Poppins, she told me her acupuncture teacher told her he thought the greatest gift he could give his patients was not from the acupuncture points and treatments and whatever contribution they could make to supporting healthy body processes. The greatest contribution would be the small ways in which he helped them to love and accept themselves, whatever the outcome with their bodies. I think your prayers -- imagining so many people caring for me and putting out healing thoughts and energy on my behalf -- may actually have helped quiet down the inflammation in my innards. But whether it has or not, I am quite sure it has contributed to an even more important healing miracle -- me being able to feel love and acceptance for myself -- wherever the poop trail leads me. 

Thanks as always for walking with me. Please keep the prayers coming. I say to the trees as I walk by them, to the birds, a deer, the flowers, the wind -- and now I will say it to you: "I bless you, and I ask you to bless me. "

Happy trails.