The PCT Days 66 to 70: A Journey Through the New Millennium
As I trekked through the Pacific Crest Trail (PCT), I couldn't help but feel a sense of awe and wonder at the beauty that surrounded me. The Yosemite Valley, with its towering granite walls and rushing waterfalls, was a sight to behold. But amidst the breathtaking scenery, there were moments of frustration and even despair. I couldn't help but feel a sense of resentment towards my fellow campers who seemed to have no regard for the peace and tranquility of the wilderness.
On Day 66, I awoke to the sound of my neighbors' loud voices and the clatter of their pots and pans. It was a stark contrast to the quiet and solitude I had come to expect in the wilderness. I yearned for the quiet and serenity of the natural world, but I also appreciated the beauty of the valley and the lack of walking (comparatively).
As I made my way down the road for coffee and a place to blog, I couldn't help but feel a sense of irony. I had come to the PCT to escape the hustle and bustle of human civilization, but here I was, surrounded by people of all ages milling about, taking photos of the various waterfalls, granite walls, and squirrels.
On Day 67, I encountered my first thunderstorm. The dark grey clouds and booming thunder reminded me of the summer afternoons at my family's cabin, the droplets bouncing off the tin roof, creating white noise and a fresh scent that was perfect to fall asleep to. But here, the storm stopped after about two hours, and I was left to make up miles.
On Day 68, I was running on fumes in mosquito hell. I was so fatigued that it took me five hours to walk seven miles. I climbed over Benson and Seavey passes, admiring the valley of granite and the proliferous creeks that flowed among them. But the mosquitos were relentless, and I was grateful to have regained enough energy to push over those passes.
On Day 69, I met a gal who had packed out a beer from Yosemite… three days ago. What patience and dedication! It was a chill day, but hot in the sun and bug-swarmed depending on how close you were to something resembling water. I reached Dorothy Lake, the northernmost Yosemite landmark on the trail, and waded in. I didn't spend much time here, but this was my favorite alpine lake of the trip.
On Day 70, I celebrated the moment when I hit 1000 miles. I was still eight more miles to go, but I felt a sense of accomplishment and pride. I realized that it's not about miles per hour, but about miles per day. I make the miles nearly every day, and I'm still on track and moving fast, even if it takes me longer.
Overall, the PCT Days 66 to 70 were a journey of discovery and self-reflection. I learned to appreciate the beauty of the wilderness, even amidst the frustration and despair. I learned to find peace and serenity in the midst of chaos, and I learned to embrace the journey, no matter how long it takes.
