It’s a windy desert morning, still cool but gradually warming by the minute. I’m hiking alone up a steep hill, my feet moving slowly as they sink into the sand.
I’m already sweating and I know my body is losing sodium, both from the physical exertion and from the fat, salty tears that roll down my cheeks and cloud my vision.
I’ve been mindlessly walking and was somehow unaware what was happening until I feel a droplet fall onto my shoe.
Why the hell am I crying right now?
Since starting my first thru hike, I’ve experienced every emotion powerfully and deeply, in waves that engulf me entirely. It’s a phenomenon that is so foreign and yet so natural. I don’t think I’ve ever felt things so strongly in my life.
It starts with music, and then a memory.
On this particular morning, I decided to listen to the album Wisecrack by Haley Blais. As soon as I hear the melodious chords of the first song, I am transported back to the night I saw her live in concert with my best friends.
The show itself was lovely, but what I remember most is the warm feeling of comfort and satisfaction I got from turning to my left and seeing Maddie, Ethan, and Amanda standing there, absorbed in the music, swaying.
I remember being so content, so full of love; just to be in the presence of people I care about was enough.
I continue to reminisce about my old life with my college roommates. I remember the sound of Ethan rushing outside to water his plants on the porch. I remember being able to faintly hear the sound of music and singing coming from Maddie’s room across the hall. I remember Amanda always keeping her door open in case I wanted to pop my head in.
What I wouldn’t give to be back with them in that house.
The hot streaks of tears begin slowly and then become uncontrollable. I’m yearning for what I know will never be my life again.
That was my reality then, but this is my reality now: I am sweating through my shirt, walking towards something that feels both intangible and unreachable.
It’s not necessarily better or worse than the life I was living before this. It’s just different, and that is terrifying to me.
Back then, I was comforted by the presence of people who love and understand me; people who know me.
Here, no one really knows me. And they would never understand who I was before this.
Weeks later, I am walking alone again. I put my earbuds in and hit shuffle on the Ryan Beatty album Calico.
The intro to “White Teeth” alone is a gut punch of melancholy nostalgia. Soon, my tears blur the trail in front of me and I begin to stumble.
The song “Andromeda” plays next. In his crooning, soulful voice, Beatty sings:
What stops me from sending the call in a midnight paranoia, that’s love after all.
These songs remind me of people I love and things I have lost. They remind me of simple moments: sitting on the porch, driving on the outer loop of Athens with my windows down; moments like these gave rise to a sense of ease and belonging that is now so far away.
In reflecting on my past, I begin to think about all the things I’ve taken for granted; things I can never get back.
Everything is different now. I am different now.
I can’t explain why these intense waves of emotion wash over me at times, or why I am so easily moved to tears at the mention of anything or anyone I have left behind.
But I do know it feels so good to cry.
By no means do I consider myself a crier. I spend so much energy latching onto positive feelings and pushing away pain. But now, I find catharsis, even indulgence, in letting the tears fall. I don’t hold back.
I don’t understand it, but I think I need it.
I’m coming home to myself; getting up close and personal with my most unearthed and vulnerable state of being.
On the trail, everything is stripped bare. There is only dirt and rocks and bugs and the occasional tree and the hot, hot sun. I am forced to be present with the purest, rawest version of myself; there is nothing to hide behind. There are only my thoughts.
It’s hard to accept that even though I am pursuing a lifelong dream of mine, I still long for what I no longer have.
I’m not sure how long these bouts of emotion will continue, and part of me is frustrated at my inability to be present. I feel guilty about the fact that my mind is preoccupied by ruminating on the past or daydreaming about what I’ll do when I get back home, desperately trying to feel a sense of normalcy again.
I do know that being honest with myself about how I am feeling is an act of self care. So for now, I’m letting these feelings rise and fall at will.
And I will let the future unfold. It won’t look like the life I’ve lived for the past 22 years, and that’s okay.
This update was a little different from the past two I have uploaded and I hope that’s okay. Thank you for being so lovely and reading the words I share, even the vulnerable ones.
On a completely unrelated note… I also want to report that I now have a trail name :0
Drumroll please… my trail name is: Icy ❄️ (this came from a mispronunciation of my name by a hiker with a thick German accent)
Now, here are some photos from my past week. I have successfully completed over 500 miles of the PCT, and wow, it’s been a journey.
![](https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_474,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F776c2e1a-4a02-498d-ac59-780fb4ed31ca_4032x3024.jpeg)
![](https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_474,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fd1922b4e-f9a1-4016-8bf1-b7d18b3bffa9_4032x3024.jpeg)
![](https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_474,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F5494425b-6366-42de-9aa7-66b1ee1c5b6c_4032x3024.jpeg)
![](https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_474,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F08911366-1f7b-4395-84bd-aa62ec4d8c50_4032x3024.jpeg)
![](https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_474,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fc4dd8ddb-8857-4666-9875-413f4d7483f2_4032x3024.jpeg)
![](https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_474,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F50fd0575-337f-497d-9866-d7b402b3a276_1600x1200.jpeg)
My next update will be very exciting, so stay tuned to hear about my night hike through the LA aqueduct coming soon.
P. S. Here’s your song of the week as promised! I’ve been loving listening to this album and I think this song is particularly relevant to my current state of mind.
Lots of love and until next time.
Izzy
You’re an old soul, Izzy. You know more than me already. What great insights you have. Love you. Just keep going.
Congratulations on 500 miles. This is a journey that be a lifetime memory!