It is the twenty-first of April, in five days I will be escaping, with my partner in crime, from the tedium of every-day life in the city. Running off into the wilds of the South California backcountry to start along the Pacific Crest Trail, a 2,659 mile long trail that runs north, from the border of Mexico to Canada. In one week we start on the adventure of a lifetime, or something like that…
Incoming Hobbit references.
Not to say that I don’t think of it in that way, but eventually you stop framing it like an adventure. The sense of adventure is still there, pins and needles mostly, only wanting to get out on the trail and go. But with the impending deadline, my concentration (or lack there-of), is more focused on the knot of anxiousness and self-doubt that is lodged in my chest. Kerstin and I are giving up a lot for this, we both worked long and hard to get to this point. I constantly worry that something will pop up at any minute that will keep us from going through with it.
This is something I have always wanted to do.
For me personally, backpacking the PCT will be the biggest challenge I have ever come across, and I need that in my life now more than ever. You’re pushing your body and mind to the breaking point. Being constantly on the move, taking breaks regularly at first, then more sparse until you hit your groove. Setting up camp every night, tearing it down every morning. Taking a day off at a lake or campground (Luxury!), or in town at a cheap hotel (Super Luxury!). But mostly just walking, enjoying the scenery, and being engulfed in nature. Accountable only to yourself.
To all my friends and family, I love you all. I wouldn’t be here without your love and support. Thank you.