High Mile Club

325 miles in less than 10 days.
325 miles in less than 10 days?
35+ miles per day!?

It's hard for me to stay calm. I feel the same anticipation for hiking Echo Lake to Burney as I do waiting for my plane to take off from the John Wayne airport.

It rolls slowly down the runway, stops for a moment in line, then blasts off up into the sky not to rest again until it reaches the it's final destination- Sacramento. Just like the plane, I will be nonstop operating at hyperspeed until I reach Hwy 299.

Hiking 25+ miles/day raced by fast enough, blowing past me as fast as the high winds that'd been emerging on the ridgeline trail.

I'd been planning on going to an Oct. 6th Coldplay concert in SoCal with my sister Katrina for months now, so I needed to finish up north. Any sort of commitments to anyone while on the PCT seem to involve a feat literally bigger than climbing the tallest mountain in the world. One can estimate mileage to coordinate meeting people but out in the mountains you're living within a different time-place relationship than most.

What feels natural does not usually align with the conventional-style deadlines you have. The sun sets bring both awe and urge to set up camp. The intense yellows, pinks and oranges overwhelm your senses with a feeling of peace and your body wants to follow. The early mornings bring a sharp chill that whispers, "stay in your soft, cozy sleeping bag." But it is during these times that one hikes enough to make the hard deadlines.

And now, turbulence. Shaking and churning, plane and stomach. Seeming to echo the nervousness I already felt about my imminent Echo Lake arrival.

There I would stand, on the edge of Hwy 50, with nothing left to do but dive right in.

I knew I could handle my 25 mile days. I'd been doing that for long enough now. But 35+ miles? The baggage I'd been carrying was again overloaded with self doubt.

So far my biggest struggles on the PCT have given way to my most joyous times. When one accomplishes that which felt quite impossible, life seems to reward one with more than could have been previously imagined. I don't know how many times I've been on trail, feeling as if my day was going very wrong (not enough miles, good thoughts, others around, etc.), only to have it turn out to be exceedingly spectacular.

The plane lands smoothly and as I step out into the sunshine I feel my day brighten with excitement for returning to the trail.

Here's to experiencing 325 miles, with a physical and emotional 50,554 ft of ups and 50,020 ft of downs, in not much more than a week.