PCT week 2 & the rule of thirds

growing pains

Hello everyone!

Wow, I’ve been BUSY on this trail. Everything is very nonstop. It’s funny because I spend the majority of the day walking and thinking about what to write, however I rarely have the time to put my thoughts in writing.

This past week was a WACKY one, let me tell you.

I’m currently in Big Bear Lake, eating grocery store sushi as I frantically type this out on my notes app while waiting for my friends to get here.

Today is my first zero day (aka no hiking day) and although it should be relaxing, there is always much to do in town to prepare for the next stretch of trail.

This week was hard. Reality has somewhat set in now that I’ve had two weeks to settle into trail life, but I’m still adapting to the wild ups and downs.

The events of this week remind me how quickly things can change. Thru hiking can be quite mentally taxing, and your methods of dealing with unexpected situations can make or break your hiking experience.

The past week started out on a high note with a some serendipitous trail magic.

Before bed on Tuesday, as I did my nightly ritual of turning off airplane mode to see if I have phone service, I received a flood of texts from my mom. She had been tracking me and realized I was just around the corner from some dear family friends who live in Palm Springs.

By some miracle, they were able to pick Mia, a buddy I met on trail, and me up to spend the night at their place.

It was heavenly to say the least. A hot shower, home cooked dinner, laundry, a real bed? Unreal (Sobreros, if you’re reading this, you guys saved me).

Despite the tempting offer to stay another night, I was antsy to get back to trail and catch up with the others in our group.

After getting dropped off, we hit the trail around 10 AM, a much later start than usual, which meant the sun was just starting to beat down on us, turning a cool morning into a blistering desert afternoon.

Another unwelcome surprise was the brutal climb we endured as we made pushed north to the small mountain town of Idyllwild. Mia and I managed to crank out 18 miles in the heat of the day, completely uphill. It was the biggest elevation gain we had faced on the PCT so far.

A reward at the end of the day was seeing a fellow group of hikers cowboy camping along a flat overhang.

I was nervous to sleep so close to the edge, but the views made it all worth it.

We witnessed the sunset facing our backs, and soon the darkness revealed the faint glowing city lights from the Coachella Valley below. The sky was vast and starry and unending. In the morning, the sun rose in front of our campsite, revealing hues of orange and red I remember seeing in photos I googled of Southern California in anticipation of being here. And here I was. This was one of my favorite moments on trail so far.

best campsite ever

With our new group of buddies, Mia and I pushed the last 10 miles to reach the town of Idyllwild. And to be quite honest, if I didn’t have these people by my side, this day might have been my last on trail.

The uphill climb was somehow steeper than the day before, plus there were countless blowdowns (fallen trees blocking the trail) that we had to either jump or squat under. It took every ounce of my quad strength to leap over these massive trunks; I felt like I was doing more parkour than hiking.

Landing on my already sore, blister-ridden feet only exacerbated the throbbing sensation they were experiencing.

I was in pain, but getting to Idyllwild was definitely worth the slight suffering. It was the first real town, full grocery store and everything, that I had been in while on the PCT.

We loaded up on resupply food and then headed to $2 taco night at the local Mexican restaurant. By the end of the night we were in a cabin with a big group of hikers, playing cards and roasting marshmallows. My heart was full.

idyllwild!!!

Again, it always seems like one good day leads to two days of hell.

The next day, half of my trail family wanted to take a zero in Idyllwild, and the other half was planning on leaving at 5 AM to summit mount San Jacinto, the second highest peak in Southern California.

I chose to split off from everyone; not wanting to zero but also not wanting to push myself too hard, I opted to take a nero (near zero) day, leaving town at noon and hitting the trail for 8 miles before camping alone.

The following day, I was determined to catch up with the faster half of the tramily. I was ready to put in more miles, and given that I was alone, there was nothing holding me back from going full force.

In the next three days, I logged out more miles than I thought be possible for me. 25, then 22, then 27 to get me to Big Bear Lake.

These three days were, undoubtedly, physically strenuous, but it was the mental aspect that challenged me most.

Aside from occasionally running into day hikers, I was completely alone on the trail. In silence, I trekked my first 18 miles down the top of an alpine forest, descending into the heat.

The desert temperatures and wind kicked in hard. As I trudged through the town of Cabazon, cars whizzed past me. I considered sticking my thumb out for a hitch. I wasn’t sure where I would go, but I wanted to get out.

But I kept walking.

…

My dad, known for his aphorisms and motivational mottos, told me about something called the rule of thirds.

Every situation, he says, can be broken up into three categories.

One third of the time, things will be great. You’ll be content and at peace and relatively without complaints. Another third of the time, things will be just okay. Not good, not bad, just okay. And another third of the time, shit sucks. You’ll be over it. You’ll wish you were somewhere, anywhere, else.

I found this concept interesting and somewhat difficult to follow at first, but so far it has been applicable to my thru hiking experience.

One third of the time, the trail is absolute magic and everything feels completely aligned. When I catch a beautiful sunset or have an amazing conversation with another hiker or finish a long day and feel proud of myself, it’s an unbeatable high.

There are also days where things are just normal. I’ll hike and listen to music and think and just be.

Then there are moments that make me question what im doing out here. There are painful sensations shooting up my leg when my blistered feet feel like they are legitimately on fire. There are cold mornings and sleepless nights and unbearably hot desert days.

All of these moments, the high and lows, are fleeting. Because of their impermanence, I have come to accept them as inevitable and uncontrollable.

I let them pass.

The rule of thirds reminds me that there is no way to curate the perfect experience, especially not while living in tandem with the natural forces of the Southern California wilderness.

I’m learning to let go, to be fully human, to let nature take its course.

At the end of my second week, I am incredibly proud. I’m so proud of who I am becoming, proud of everyone out here alongside me, proud to be alive and experiencing it all.

So… that’s my update! It’s so exciting to think that this is only just the beginning. I can’t wait to share what is to come, because there will be many, many more insights to report.

Also, thank you guys for all of the support on my first post :’). Knowing that people are reading up and following my journey helps me keep going.

And PLEASE! leave me some comments and/or suggestions! I want to answer all of your questions! This is a blog for the people.

Thank you thank you thank you for reading this far. I appreciate you more than you know.

Until next time,

Izzy (hopefully by my next post I will have a cool trail name but alas. Not yet)

P. S. if you scroll all the way to the bottom of my blog posts you get rewarded with some tunes I’ve been listening to. Here’s a good chill mountain song for you: