Bogwitch, Carrot and I wake up well rested and it feels fucking incredible. We eat cereal and almond milk and berries and tasty bites and fresh greens and cookies and jalapeño potato chips and brown rice pasta with marinara and kale and baked tofu. I drink kombucha and limeade and ginger beer and iced coffee and massive bottles of sparking water. We go to the weed store and I use weed salve samples on all of my aches and pains and they….disappear. But I am a lightweight, and so suddenly I am very, very high.
We talk about trauma but on account of the weed, the trauma feels funny instead of nightmarish, which is all one can hope for, really. Behind our motel there is a river and we meander down, find a hammock and some chairs and stick our feet in the water. It’s too cold to swim, but I content myself watching the tiny rapids, a hummingbird, a deer. I am happy, so happy with my snacks and my people and the dogs and the drugs. I know happiness is often clouded by anxiety for me, but this one is pure, complete and absolute.
I let it wash over me again and again and I am grateful.
📍This section of the Pacific Crest Trail is on unceded Nlaka’pamux, Syilx/Okanagan, and Columbia-Wenatchi land.