I said something very bad in my last big blog post.  I wrote: "California's extreme drought is perversely our good fortune - there's virtually no snow on any of the passes."  That was a mistake to put in print.  Unsurprisingly, the karma gods of California precipitation had some feelings on my declaration and they let those be known by filling up the last section with thunderstorms.  And hail storms.  And thunderstorms with hail.  And lots of rain.  I'm sorry, wise gods of California precipitation!  I won't ever say something like that again!

I've hiked 186 miles since leaving Mammoth.  Thirty-six of those miles were with Matthew, and then the remaining 150 miles were on my own.  I originally conceived of this trip as a solo-trip and so was very eager to get out on the trail by myself: to test myself, to have time for quiet reflection, and to see exactly how much ramen I can eat unassisted.  Results: mixed. 

Matthew and I had a great last few days together between Mammoth and Tuolomne (Tuolumne is the developed campground on Yosemite's east side).  We briefly switched roles, and I became the "thru-hanger," wanting to sleep in, drink a tall boy before hitting the trail, and take lengthy swim/nap breaks.  Fortunately, Matthew kept me in check.  During these few days, we saw a family that, rather than carry their gear on their backs, had rented a pack of llamas to carry everything for them!  We thought it was cool at first, but then as we watched them forgo communication with each other because they were so consumed with steering the llamas, it looked less appealing.  On our last day together, we got up early and cranked out 10 speedy miles in the hopes that we'd catch the World Cup final in Tuolumne.  Alas, a rockslide had knocked out all cell/tv/anything communication in Tuolumne, so it would be another 8 days before I learned the result. 

In Tuolumne, the nice folks at the store got my mail for me, even though it was a Sunday and the Post Office was definitely closed.  I had a boring resupply I'd sent myself (surprise, surprise: instant mashed potatoes) .... and TWO CARE PACKAGES!!!  My amazing Wharton Leadership Ventures co-leaders, Kush, Maddy, and Edward, had made me unbelievable cookies (orange rind, walnuts, and craisins!).  And then Ginny and Emily (who I also know through the Wharton Leadership Ventures program!) sent me a package with all kinds of odds  and ends that they know thru-hikers need - including, most amazingly - Q-Tips!  I'm so lucky to have such amazing friends!  Thank you!!

I sorted through all of my resupply stuff on this picnic table outside of the store/Post Office.  And in doing so, I became a minor celebrity.  There were a ton of day/weekend hikers around, and as everyone learned that I was hiking the PCT, they had questions!  When I used to teach in New York, I would ride the 14D bus to school.  Inevitably, the bus would be 95% total strangers, 5% my students, who would all screech "Missssssss Aaaaaalbinson!!!!" as I boarded.  Everyone else on the bus would look at me with awe in their eyes: I was known on the 14D.  Anyway, the celebrity kind of felt the same in Tuolune: totally undeserved attention, when I was just trying to sort out my trail mix. 

Once everything was all packed up in my bear canister, there was nothing left to do but say goodbye to Matthew (who was going to hike into Yosemite Valley and then head home) and walk off by myself.  Unfortunately, I couldn't exactly walk off at the speed I wanted to because my pack was so ... damn ... heavy.  For the first time, I was carrying all of the gear by myself, not sharing it with Matthew or Justin.  I also wasn't sure how fast I'd be able to hike the 150 miles to Tahoe, so I was carrying enough food for 9 (9!!) days.  Allow me to tell you, that is a lot of food.  So I walked off very, very slowly.  Under the weight of my pack, I could feel the blisters on my feet starting to act up again.  My hips ached where the bear canister, filled to the brim with food, was resting.  I walked for a few miles, and then saw a sandy beach alongside a stream.  Near tears, I turned off: if I could just take my pack off for a few minutes, I was sure I would be OK. I looked toward the stream, and standing there in the meadow on the other side, perfectly lit by the sun, were two deer, one with a majestic set of antlers.  The PCT giveth, the PCT taketh away.  Everything was going to work out.

I got up early the next day, eager to put in a bunch of miles and get closer to Tahoe.  Around 1 PM though, I heard a sound I hadn't yet heard in my 5 weeks on the trail: THUNDER.  I was on top of a ridge and eager to get down to the valley floor, two miles ahead.  I scurried down and was greeted in the valley by a Boy Scout troop.  I ate crackers and jelly by the side of a creek for the bit, and waited for the storm to make its move.  One of the Boy Scouts, a high school senior, bravely approached me and offered for me to stay with them that night if the storm worsened.  But I too am always prepared: had my poncho ready to go!  I moved on.  I got half-way up the next pass before the storm rolled overhead and I had to set up camp.  I pitched my tent near to two retired folks.  I never spoke to them, but being near to people - even as the thunder cracked - gave me tremendous psychological comfort.  I also ate all of Maddy's cookies out of thunder anxiety. 

This storm - which I had hoped was a freak occurrence (the Sierras are known for perfect blue skies in the summer) - set the pattern for the next 6 days.  Wake up to sunshine and blue skies, but then sometime around noon, notice extremely ominous clouds at the edge of the sky.  Later that afternoon, get treated to lightening, thunder, hail, and/or pouring rain.  After a few days of this, I adjusted my hiking schedule, waking up at 5:30 AM so I could crank through as many miles as possible before the inevitable storm hit.  I had to schedule a long morning break to dry out my tent and sleeping bag, which were ever-wet from the previous night.  I also had to be much more attentive to my maps, particularly focusing on "exposed areas," e.g., sections of the trail that go above the tree line, as not to get caught in those when an electrical storm hit.  With my trekking poles in hand and tent poles sticking out of the top of my bag, I was literally a lightening magnet.  It was pretty scary to have to make these daily decisions on my own.   

There were some funny moments in the rain.  Once, it was pouring and I was wearing my awesome poncho.  I walked by a guy who said "damn, you're prepared."  When I looked more closely at him, he was not in fact wearing a poncho, but rather wrapped in the rain fly of his tent.  I hope he made it out OK.  Another time, it was clear that a big storm was right overhead.  I was hunkering down under some trees, assuming the lightening position that Rick Curtis taught me, when a Yosemite ranger approached.  I figured he was going to offer me some tips on electrical storm preparedness or perhaps the weather forecast.  Instead, he wanted to make sure I was carrying my food in the required bear canister (Yosemite rangers are very fixated on that regulation).  It started to hail about 2 minutes later.  But thank goodness my food was properly stored.  Still another time, I heard a storm moving quickly toward me.  I threw on my poncho, water-proofed my pack (aka applied the trash bag), put on a This American Life podcast, and prepared to wait it out.  After a while, I realized that I was hearing only the dulcet tones of Ira Glass and no thunder.  Turns out, the storm had moved off, but I was so compelled by the episode that I hadn't realized it was time to hike again. 

It was a tough week.  I pulled the most mileage I have yet, averaging 22 miles/day.  There was a thunderstorm every day.  I wasn't sleeping well, as I was alone and convinced that every ripple of wind was in fact a bear.  But it was also an important week.  I emerged from it feeling more confident in my outdoor skills, and more importantly, my emotional resilience.  I hit some lows, but also some incredible highs.  At the peak of a mountain (that was truly named "The Nipple"), I found myself as happy as I've been on the trail.  I'd made it to the top without getting struck by lightening, despite the cracks that were coming down on the next mountain.  A great song came on my iPod.  I got this unexpected and incredible view of two lakes.  I literally threw back my head in joy, and then skipped down the mountain.  (You would have thought I was high, but I can assure you that I was not: the jar at Highway 4 labeled "free joints for thru hikers, take only 1 please" - like a bowl of Halloween candy left on a suburban doorstep - was definitively cleaned out when I passed by a few hours earlier.)  In short, things are going great. 

And now for the hodge-podge section:

-I highly recommend the book "Beyond the Beautiful Forevers," by Katherine Boo.

-Timmy C. is joining me on the trail in August!!!  YES!!

-Get excited: Mom and Matthew and each going to write a guest blog about their own PCT experiences!

-I listened to a podcast where Maya Angelou described her method for forgiving a person who has wronged her.  She "breaks the word apart and flips the order," so rather than forgive, she "gives for" - she does a kind act or makes a donation in the name of the person.  And then she lets it go.  Pretty awesome.

-Lindsay and Justin are both meeting me in Tahoe and hiking with me from here.  WOOHOO!

 Devil's Postpile, outside of Mammoth

 Thousand Island Lake

LLama train!

Relaxing at Thousand Island Lake.  Also note: new shoes!  I would give them a B+ so far.

 After the Post Office run in Tuolumne! 

 Yosemite National Park

 Tuolumne Falls

I hit the five hundred mile mark!  I celebrated by eating a fruit leather.  

Yosemite

Monday morning consultants heading to work. 

That smile is fake.  I am actually unhappy about the rain.   Fake it 'till you make it!

Storm clouds gathering over Dorothy Lake.  Moments later was the loudest thunder crack I heard all week. 

The landscape changed notably once I got out of Yosemite

Trail to nowhere

Cool rock formations close to Sonora Pass

Ominous late afternoon sky

Walk faster, walk faster!  Maybe I can outwalk the storm.  

Rainbow at camp my last night out.  Felt like a good sign - I was almost out of the rain!

Amazing volunteer team at Carson Pass!  They put out a full breakfast for me as I wandered through!  THANK YOU!

This section, without a doubt, had the best wildflowers on the trail.  Maybe it's because they get so much rain.  :)