Day 55 June 18
Donner Pass to Sierra City
“I love people. Everybody. I love them, I think, as a stamp collector loves his collection. Every story, every incident, every bit of conversation is raw material for me.” Sylvia Plath
I just walked 103 miles in three days. We’re in Northern California now, where the climbs aren’t as grueling and the tread’s less rocky. Miles miles miles. Miles not Meth.
There’s a lot to catch up on. Where do I even begin?
Have you met Mac? He’s a part of the group “The Fast Kids from Kick Off.” He’s got the legs of a Thoroughbred, the face of a King, and a stately Kiwi accent. But he’s a scrappy fucker, a natural born dirtbag, a hiker box marauder, real primal, a tobacco chewer and nose picker.
I can’t seem to kick him. I tried to when I hiked 33 miles over Mt. Whitney and then Forester Pass, but Daddy Long Legs caught up while I spent the night in Lone Pine. He and Tiny crashed my room. We inhaled pizza, beer, and bad tv. I’ve come to realize that I am not a John Muir type, I enjoy the company of other dirtbags most of time.
“I didn’t expect you hiking with the same guys the whole time,” my boyfriend texts me before South Lake Tahoe. He’s with a new girl now. I am happy for him, now he doesn’t have to worry about me and all the dudes. But the trail is mostly dudes! DUDES