So here I am, starting out on the Pacific Crest Trail…
The last few weeks have been a blur to be honest. Since finishing work on Jane the Virgin back in mid March, I feel like I haven’t had a moment to sit down and really think about where I’m going or what it is in actually doing on the trail. For the last month, my life has been entirely consumed with preparations and squaring away my non-trail life; from packing everything I own into storage to arranging all my resupply plans in Washington with my family, to making sure I had every little thing I would need for the next six months.
I write this now about 4 miles from the Mexican Border, in a small cheat-grass clearing next to the trail. Tomorrow I hike on to Lake Morena, my first of many 16 mile days ahead of me, and I find myself oddly comforted by the fact that this is now my life. At sundown I make camp, at sunrise I wake and walk. There’s a beautiful simplicity to the whole thing, a welcome respite to the stress and anxiety I’ve inflicted upon myself the last few days, weeks, and even months.
When I signed the trail register in Campo, I included a quote I recently discovered on the wall of an abandoned house on the road to Julian…
“And this, our life, exempt from public haunt, finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, sermons in stones, and good in everything.” – William Shakespeare
It struck me as particularly relevant to my pursuits over the next few months, and oddly perfect that I would stumble upon such a quote the day before stepping out onto the trail. It reminds me of the reasons I set out on this journey in the first place, to hear the song of nature in the deserts and mountains and meadows from here to Canada.