I post on Instagram to find a ride back to the PCT. Tempest messages me, says she has the day free, that she’d love to help a hiker out. She reads my blog and loves Carrot’s book. She can leave at 1. I’m so fucking lucky.
I errand on overdrive. I go to brunch, I eat a breakfast sandwich and a small vegan quiche and take two blackberry handpies to go. I go to REI, I go to Walgreens. I charge my electronics, willing them to charge faster, knowing they generally need overnight. I refill my food bag with things I actually like. I shove everything deep down into my bag. I’m ready by 1:50, Tempest is patient. Like I said, I’m lucky.
Our drive is so nice. I’m shy and stranger weary but Tempest is great. She has a nice dog and brings snacks and is smart and fun. The two hour drive flies, and then there we are, at a big nice campsite in the gloaming, surrounded in a ring of trees and a cute and moderate amount of mosquitos, nothing that stresses me because I compare it to what I have seen before, which was a mosquito mafia here to fuck my ass UP.
Portland was nice but I’m happy to be on trail, could kiss the ground under my feet. Over and over again I’ve said I’m not committed to hiking the whole trail, and still that’s very true. I can’t imagine not being home come September, but I also can’t imagine not being right here, right now.
📍 This section of the Pacific Crest Trail is on unceded Yakama land.