22 —

Miles 273.0 — 193.8 (20.8 miles)

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Rose: swimming in the swimming hole at camp Thorn: trying to decipher a summary of Nietzsche Bud: hot springs tomorrow if I can convince my tramily to stop

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The hike this morning was very pleasant. Relatively flat through pine forests. I could try to push my speed, but I’m quickly getting over that impulse. Cooler temps mean we can hike more hours. I can keep up with the group at my slow speed if we can hike most hours.

I tried to listen to some podcasts, but they didn’t hold my attention for long. I spent most of the morning thinking about routine life dilemmas. I stopped around nine AM to finish my detective novel. It took about an hour with some mid morning snacking. When I caught up to my group at noon, I explained my tardiness. I don’t feel too bad about making them wait. They were gone within 15–20 minutes of me joining them.

I’ve been contemplating the purpose of a tramily lately. I was listening to a podcast that explained that our fear of rejection, of losing a group stems from evolution. In the Stone Age, losing the group would mean death, inability to survive. Our amygdala evolved to fear this rejection. Millennia later, our amygdala can’t tell the difference between survival and non survival. So my fear of being left behind by my speedy group is a fear of an inability to survive alone.

However, I know I can survive alone in the backcountry. So what purpose does the tramily serve? Comradery, memories, morale boost, splitting the cost of hotel rooms, conversation? I think I’m in it for the mental game.

The tramily has started calling me the “caboose” sometimes since I am the slowest. It really stokes some of my deepest insecurities about my capabilities. I’ve started taking more of my siestas and breaks alone for the quiet. I don’t get some of the conversations during breaks and prefer the company of my book, journalling, or taking in the trail. Even after 2–3 weeks with this group, they’re mostly shallow conversations. Occasionally they poke fun at the facts that I share. “That’s something a Ranger would say.” “Ranger-isms.” I know it’s in jest. No one likes a know-it-all. I guess what I’m saying is that if the group eventually doesn’t serve my mental needs, I’ll look for another group. This group so far has made me work through my feelings of FOMO and insecurities about being slow. I sit in comfort with that now.

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It is Friday of Memorial Day Weekend. The trails and trailheads are starting to get busy. It doesn’t hurt that we’re not far out from a resort town (Big Bear Lake). I’ve been leapfrogging a large group of high schoolers.

There’s also new PCTers. I think we’re just slow and the next crop of people have caught up to us. It’s giving us a bit of a push for longer days.

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The hike after a short noon break was hot. The pine forest turned into a burn area and then open desert again. We only had 7 more miles until camp after our lunch stop, but I had to stop a couple of times to air out my weary, hot feet. I attempted to listen to an audiobook about Nietzsche, but it was a little all over the place as it attempted to summarize his works. Then I switched to an audiobook of Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring, but that turned out to be the BBC radio play adaptation and not the book itself.

The camp site is pretty. After all this time in the desert with such long water carries, the trail descended and criss crossed a lovely babbling creek. Our campsite had an honest to goodness swimming hole. The others had been there an hour already by the time Lucy & I arrived around five (I caught up to her about 15 minutes out). We still swam in the water though. Despite it being a hot stumble to camp, the sun’s warmth was dimmed slightly by light clouds when we emerged from the cold water. Some of my clothes will still be wet in the morning. I have put them under my sleeping pad, hoping my body heat will dry them somewhat. It’s worked with my sweaty wet clothes the last couple of nights.

We ate dinner while two more hikers trickled in and bedded down a bit away from us. The others have eyes closed and attempting to sleep by 8 PM. The bugs (which aren’t bad at all) drove the others into their sleeping bags earlier than usual.

The sunset is too beautiful not to witness though. Cotton candy pink, soft blues, and a vibrant orange. Unfortunately, the most brilliant colors are obscured by the riparian vegetation.