Evolution of an Artist: Day 8- Miles 494.2 to 506.5

Can I do this?

Last night, in the middle of the woods and afraid, I had one of the most bizarre and comforting dreams I've had in a long while.

Somehow, I had been taken hostage by some scary people somewhere in Africa. I was placed in a high ceiling room wearing handcuffs against the wall. The room was white filled with natural light. There was a long table lined with delicious fresh fruits and vegetables in the middle and there were some official looking people coming in to partake of a feast. I felt excluded, alone, scared and confused.

As the important people started to file in, I recognized a good friend of mine among them. He had taken leave of his demanding job to negotiate my freedom. His beautiful smile shone towards me for a second and disappeared quickly as he took a seat at the table. He was in front of me, back towards me. I knew things would be ok because he is an excellent negotiator.
Shortly after the meal was over, I was allowed to receive a call. The call came from one of the many admirable artists who I had the pleasure of passing in the hallways more than 2 decades ago, while I worked at the Disney Feature Animation Studio in Florida. This individual told me not to worry about a thing. He and his lovely wife owned a small plane in the west coast of my location, which was completely at my disposal to use in order to get home. Even tho I didn't know how to fly a plane, I saw myself heading home in it and felt forever grateful for their kindness, goodwill and concern. I felt loved and cared for.

Sometimes the family we make around us, from whatever circle of interests we have, is the family that will see us thru in our hour of need, even in an imaginary place. And some families never leave your heart.

With my only daughter living with her dad after our divorce, this was the sweetest thought I had to console me. And I loved it. I woke up feeling grateful and focused on my goal to walk 12 more miles today, no matter what terrain waited ahead of us.

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The first thing I did after waking up was check my food bag set up. I was glad to see it was undisturbed.

I had a long hike ahead of me, with a challenging (for me) 1000' ascend within two miles. I had a good breakfast, planned my lunch break and headed forward. My goal was to summit the hill ahead and get out of any elevation over 5000' and bear country, spend the night at PCT mile 508 (4856') or even better, PCT mile 510 at 4009'.

As always, Booboo warmed up in the sun while I broke camp.

And so, another day begun, with me walking and talking to myself at 8:30am: "508 and my baby on Sunday"...

In my rush to get going, I lost my super cool Peruvian wool beanie hat and Booboo lost one of his booties. I walked .5 mile back looking for it, which added a mile to my trek but did not find it at all. Oh well, I will use K-tape on his paw if I need to and try to find another cool beanie. Must move on.

Not puppy paws

We paused at milestone 500 (PCT mile 499.9) to take a few photos, then again at the trail marker for it, 1.8 miles down the path.

With little water left, I was determined not to stop until I reached mile 502, the water cistern at the top of the hill. It took us two hours of rhythmic, constant ascend (with necessary water breaks) to finally reach it at 4:00 pm.

I decided to feed us our late lunch/ early supper meal in order to avoid producing tempting odors at night while at camp. Booboo had his share of a sardines can mixed with his kibble while I had mine accompanied by reconstituted kasha, black beans and mixed veggies.

After resting, getting our fill of water, filtering and filling my bottles, we left the cistern at 4:45pm. Fueled by my dinner and still afraid of the non- puppy paw prints bellow us, we walked as fast as we could until I could not see anymore without a light: mile 506. I believe my guardian felt and related to a certain sense of urgency from me. He never complained and just walked silently and quickly next to me, without missing a beat. Although he was always on a leash, I checked on him often, and every time I did, I saw his little ears bounce happily as his little legs trotted next to me.

Although I had walked my minimum 12 miles and conquered some serious hills, I had not reached a lower elevation as I wanted. In fact, we were now at the top of the hill and 5741' elevation. This is where the trail crosses a dirt bike road. It is completely open and very windy.

My efforts to not produce any odors while cooking dinner where pretty much nulled by Booboo's sardine smelling face, which I tried to wash in vane. He stunk like fish and in my mind we were going to die a slow, bloody death being slashed to smithereens by the powerful claws of a large mountain cat.

Again, Booboo slept attached to the leash, held tightly by his scared owner in the dark. I rigged my small maze can around my wrist and had my spare walking pole near me. My only consolation was thinking that whatever beast tried to attack us would probably be scared and surprised of the maze and maybe would want to flee the scene before either one of us were hurt. And again, I missed my FL hiking buddies.

Up goes the food bag on a tree, with the bell. This time I tied my pee rag to one of my tarp stakes.

For the first time in my entire outing, I did not feel overheated in the night. My cashmere hoodie sweater stayed on me all night, keeping my little fish face and I warm thru the windy and sleepless night.

It was 3:39 am last time I checked my phone clock. I will wake up in less than 3 hours to break camp in a hurry and walk the last 10 miles of my trek.

Photos from day 8

Inside my tarp, wet clothes from the night before hang to dry from the middle pole

My sleep set up: grabber blanket, silver side inside "bear burrito style" containing a torso length piece of Reflectix wrap, Thermarest trail scout mattress, Sierra Designs 20 degree down bag and Sea to Summit Adapter bag liner.