Pre Hike 6 May 2018

I slept surprisingly well last night. I woke knowing that today was my final day of life outside the PCT. And I know that I am not really ready but I have no choice but to go forward.
I am at Scout and Frodo’s house in the outskirts of San Diego. I arrived as lunch was being served. I just jumped right in and started meeting the other hikers staying here for tomorrow’s departure. I am now sitting outside in the backyard in a shady corner. The breeze feels wonderful against my skin. But it’s very hot in the sun and I can only imagine what tomorrow will feel like hiking. I am trying to keep myself hydrated but I feel depleted and I don’t know why. When I am in the sun my skin feels hot but a kind of heat that comes from within as if my core body temperature has suddenly decided to ramp it up a couple of degrees. But in the shade I feel okay. I continue to use my nerves as the excuse for the way I feel.

After lunch I was given a tour of the set up at the house. I prepare my sleep system for the evening in one of the three large white tents placed on the backyard lawn. I wonder if I will even sleep tonight? I am tempted to take an Advil PM to help but I don’t want to be sleepy in the morning. I want to wake up at 5am and feel energized, excited and ready to go. I look around at everyone’s gear. We are all carrying a wide range of packs, sleeping bags and pads. It’s really encouraging because we all had to at some point choose what would work best on the trail - what would be the most efficient, light and durable. Our conversations are centered on gear, the desert, water, hiking history and where we all come from. Everyone is so kind and generous with varying degrees of experience. A few hiked the AT. A few like me have limited experience. And yet we all start out at Campo and have to face the same trail conditions and distance.

The backyard is lovely. Flowers and large leafed plants line the backyard. A huge tree with thick branches covered in dark green leaves provides welcome shade.

Dinner is at 6pm but I find that I am already hungry being used to eating every few hours. I believe we will be given a talk about safety, water in the desert, fording rivers and other things we may encounter on the trail. Hopefully we will all have more opportunities to get to know one another. These are the hikers I will start with and I am sure I will see them in various places on the trail and the first campsites and towns.

I look at my gear and continue to wonder if I am made the right decisions. There is nothing I can do about it now but in my mind I still have doubts. I chose not to bring the free-standing tent poles for my tent so I will have to rely on the trekking poles. They simply cannot break on me.

So it will be a somewhat lazy afternoon. I should be reviewing my maps for tomorrow or going over the Garmin InReach to make sure I understand all of its features.

For now I want to sit and feel the breeze and smell the air and hope that tomorrow everything will begin to make sense.

Pre Hike 5 May 2018

Today I arrived in Los Angeles. I sat in the Union Station terminal for two hours (something I never really want to do again if I can help it) and then boarded the last train of this voyage to take me to the final destination - San Diego. Although I only left Ohioon Thursday morning, it seems like an extended length of time has passed rather than just the two days. But I am now in San Diego. I am so glad I gave myself one day here alone before I arrive at the Trail Angel’s house on Sunday. I need this space to recover from the trip but also to mentally prepare for Monday. I am in San Diego. Finally.

When the train left Chicago at 3pm on Thursday, I began to anticipate the excitement of seeing Colorado again the next morning. We would be going through Kansas while I slept and cross into Colorado by mid morning. I made a dinner reservation for 7:45pm in the dining car and then settled in to a late afternoon of watching the countryside slip away from the fast moving train. The sky was still cloudy and rain continued to fall sending rivers of wet along the windows distorting my view of the fields, trees and steadfast small towns. Occasionally the train would stop at one of these towns along the way to let travelers off and on. I watched them from the window as they gazed up at the train in earnest anticipation of their own journeys. After dinner the car attendant made up my bed. I showered using the small hand-held shower hung above the toilet in a separate chamber in my room and then climbed into the bed which was essentially made up by collapsing the seats and placing a very thin mattress on top. Far off in the distance suddenly the sky lit up with streaks of lightening that chiseled blazing white light through the air in quick bursts of flash. I didn’t hear any thunder as expected and the storm never made its way to blaze above the train. When the sky became calm, I closed my eyes and let the gentle rocking of the train lull me to sleep.

The next morning we did indeed arrive in Colorado. I went to sleep with newly budding trees and forests lining the tracks and woke to a vast empty landscape with the faint glimpse of mountains off in the distance. Colorado. And to my pleasant surprise one of the towns on our list of stops was La Junta. I spent two years as a young child growing up in Rocky Ford Colorado which was only miles from La Junta. And when the train stopped, we were allowed to get off and stretch our legs. I stepped off the train onto the Colorado soil and breathed the crisp cold air. The sky was vibrant and blue and effortless. For the rest of the morning I stared out the window at the scenes from Colorado. I thought about those two years and my family and how much I loved life in that small prairie town with numerous trips over mountain passes to small wooden cabins with lofts for sleeping. Often we would pack the car with camping gear and set off into the mountains. While my parents would prepare the camp, my sisters and I would wander off to find mounds of rocks to climb or small streams to run along beside while creating a world of make believe that existed for real in those lush mountain moments.

Soon the train began to climb into the lower foothills. And after going through a long tunnel dug into the mountain, we arrived in New Mexico. New Mexico. This is a landscape in widescreen. Looking out the train window I saw a small family of antelope bounding through the fields with the lightest of gaits, old wooden fence posts growing out of the dry ground and sculptural jagged rock formations that leveled off with flat plateaus. I saw three cows off in the far distance walking in single file, each equidistant from the other with their gazes down toward the earth. Off in the distance storm clouds hovered over layers of mountains and seemed to reach down and touch the silent peaks. At one point the darkening clouds became a thin sheer curtain that hung all the way to the far off ground while the hills seen behind were bathed in brilliant sunshine. And sweeping across the panorama lay the golden ground stretching as far as the eye could possibly perceive.

We were able to get off at Albuquerque. But walking along the train I realized I just wanted to be moving. I had spent the day captivated by the sights of this world but now I was thinking about the final destination and the days after.

After another night of dinner, wine and sleep, I awoke to find myself in California. And then soon Los Angeles.

And now San Diego. I am in a hotel room. Placed against a stand is my backpack filled and ready to go. It silently waits for me. I keep staring at it knowing that it will be with me for many months. I silently wonder if I have everything I need. I walked to a local store and purchased 3 smart water bottles to be a part of my water supply strategy. I also have a 2 liter water platypus along with two 1 liter platypus water bags. They can be rolled up after the water has been used which will save me some space in the side pockets. Check out is at noon so I am going to use the morning to repack the backpack and continue to review the water report, halfmile notes and Yogi pages for the early stretch to Lake Morena. It’s 20 miles from the border. I’d like to get there by Monday late afternoon but as I’ve never walked 20 miles in one hike, it doesn’t seem likely nor smart.  

I suddenly find myself at a place of doubt. And I don’t want to go into this questioning everything I am doing. I think it’s most likely just nerves. And hopefully when I start hiking and feel the accomplishment of that first day - no matter how far I walk - I will gain my confidence back and be at ease so that my walking along this trail is exactly the right thing for me at this point in my life. I am done with the anticipation. I want to move. And I want to be moved.

Colorado 

La Junta train station. 

New Mexico

Pre Hike 3 May 2018

I am in Chicago. Just arrived. I have a 2 hour layover before boarding the Amtrak Southwest Chief which will take me to Los Angeles. The journey has started. I splurged and upgraded to a sleeper when I booked my ticket. This way I don’t have to worry about meals on the train and I can lie down each night to sleep. I am looking forward to seeing the expansive landscapes of New Mexico and Arizona. It’s been many years since I was there performing with Kota Yamazaki. Right now I am in the Metropolitan Lounge at Union Station where I can sit and hopefully relax. Amtrak just announced a wine tasting for travelers waiting in the lounge for their trains. Sounds good to me 12pm - noon!

The morning was spent staring out the train window at the hazy landscapes of Ohio and Indiana. The overcast sky bursting with occasional rain left mud filled pools of water along the tracks reflecting the grey overhead. Sometimes a fine mist would hang delicately in the air, faint laced fog hovering and whispering and then shivering into nothingness. I had planned on continuing my research on the train but I found myself staring out the window with my thoughts full and weighted.

My father drove me to the Cleveland Amtrak station at 1:30am this morning to catch the 3:27am train. I barely slept last night and can feel the coming fatigue from traveling mixed with the lack of sleep. I was reminded of the countless times my father would wake up in the middle of the night to drive me to various trains, buses, or long eight hour driving trips to New York City. At 19, he and I drove to New York City with all of my college materials and clothes to begin what would be my life in New York City starting with my studies at NYU. The dorm I had been scheduled to live in had not been completed so I - along with all of the other residents - was given a room at a hotel in midtown near Penn Station. As my father drove into the city, I stared at the huge buildings trying to absorb the huge energy and masses of people bustling along the sidewalks with strident purpose. It was exciting and also alarmingly new. Would I too walk those sidewalks and feel like I belonged? We unpacked the car and got everything to my room. I was overcome with the realization that I was in New York City and about to begin my film studies. How would I get to the classes in Greenwich Village? How would I choose which classes to take? How would I..... ? And then my father left, eager to drive home and get out of the busy city. The final goodbye and “be safe’ was one of many carefully placed moments where my father had to leave me as I embarked on a new voyage in my life. And I will admit that each time I felt a momentary desire to go with him and remain in the comforts of the familiar. I never felt abandoned. But I did feel incredibly small and very much alone in my surroundings. After one week in New York City I called my father and told him I wanted to come home. With determination he told me to stay and keep trying.  And I listened to him and thus New York City became my home for over 25 years. It was absolutely the right choice at that time in my very young life. And now at 51 - so much older and filled with abundant life experiences - I find that I still experience that small insistent pull to remain in what I know and trust. But I am stronger than that seductive yearning and thus I follow through with the farewells. And I board the train and let the speed and direction carry me forward into the very near future. And toward the adventure of the Pacific Crest Trail.






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