Pacific Northwest Trail; mile 766.8

Friday, September 20, 2019; day 61

The day looks promising. I will mostly be dealing with the wetness of shrub.

I strap on the long gaiters I purchased in winthrop (a relatively futile effort, considering the shape of my shoes).

I will be travelling over Whitcom Pass today. It is said to be one of the most challenging climbs of the trail.

As I move, I notice changes in the foliage, the trees and leaves broaden. There is a deepening of green.

I take joy in the crunching of autumn leaves beneath my step.

I began the ascent up Whitcom. I become frustrated with the technological gadget I use to communicate with my family. It opens a flood-gate deep within me. I stop at a very preliminary switchback. I sit. I cry. I sob. I cry for everything and everyone, for nothing and no one. It is heavy and powerful. I look ahead. To the rushing water from the opposing rocky mountainside. I watch it cascade down from the melting snow fields above. I am in awe of its composure. It is still and beautiful as water pours and rushes along its cracks and gathers in its crevices.

Let them be your teachers, I tell myself. Let your emotions flow freely, but keep a calmness inside; an inner stillness of love and realization of what truly matters. I cry more. Hugged by the wild, I lift myself and continue.

Whitcom pass was amazing. I ascend slowly, gazing at the surrounding ice-covered peaks; how they melt and flow and feed the Earth.

As I descend, night falls. I come to the Whitcom campsite. There was a quick flash of light from my headlamp. As I wondered if I had imagined it, it happens again. I attempt to adjust the power of the lamp, and it goes black. I fumble for the spare batteries I had found in a hiker box. I drop one, and feel around for it in the darkness. They were fairly easy to spot, obtrusive and shiny and perfect in shape…they did not belong.

The fog rolled in so quickly. So thick! I find fog to be the biggest challenge toward my tendency to hike in the darkness.

I stopped at Graybeal Camp for the night. How dreadful to have only made it so far. It was an emotional day, however.

My heart weighs heavy.

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