Despite aspirations for an early leave time on our first day of hiking, Seth and I slept late (we woke at 8a after silencing our alarm at 6a) and became immediately nervous that we might not be able to find a ride to the border. We needn’t have worried, however, as there was a van leaving from the campsite’s bathroom/shower facility just as we reached it. The driver, curly pigtails poking out from beneath her floppy, chin-strapped hiker hat, informed us regretfully that her van was full, at which point we were approached by a man who was also offering rides. Gratefully we accepted before we were unexpectedly flagged down and snatched up by Nona, our bus acquaintance from the previous day. She shooed away any competition, hands waving erratically, saying, “I rode in with these people. I’m giving them a ride to the border!”
Our ride with Nona proved fruitful and educational. After opening her trunk to accommodate our packs, she shuffled some belongings around to reveal a box of mangoes, and a box of apples. Seth’s eyes lit up as she encouraged us to select a treat. He happily slid a mango into his pack, and I selected a delicious looking apple.
As we drove, Nona informed us that her career had been in medicine, and that she had served as a doctor in the area. She was able to point out some local landmarks, and also expounded on through hiker culture as we drove south.
At the border, she herded us into different arrangements around the three-tiered border monument, taking pictures with Seth’s camera and chatting with the pig-tailed driver’s passengers who had arrived minutes before.
When the occasion had been sufficiently photographed, Seth and I said our goodbyes, and set off along our very first stretch of trail.
Here is what I learned on my first day of long-distance backpacking.
– Seth is a much faster hiker than I am. Going uphill, downhill, over streams, gravel, sand, and just flat out walking, he leaves me in the dust in just a few effortless strides. The humorous (and slightly tragic) visual of me trying to keep up with him includes Seth, long-legged and rubber-kneed, toddling along at pace that looks all together leisurely until you expand the picture to include the rolly-poly, stump-legged troll clumsily jogging along behind. When hiking behind him and trying to keep pace, I generally imagine myself in a state of almost falling over, the entirety of my upper body and pack weight leant over my feet in a tedious effort to continue moving forward.
– The desert is hot. We knew not to expect any water sources within the first 20 miles, so we packed accordingly, but still – hot and dry, hot and dry, hot and dry is what we need to expect for the next 500 miles, and there really isn’t any way to prepare yourself for that. You just sort of have to land in it, then keep on trudging.
– There are a lot of people hiking this year. From what I understand, a normal year on the PCT sees around 450 hikers, one third of whom make it all the way to Canada. This year, at kickoff alone, we heard numbers upwards of 700, many of whom started the trail on the very Saturday we did. As the day progressed, we passed and talked to a number of people, finding some huddled in the sparse and precious shade for a moment’s respite from the sun, others we met as they blew past us, some fast enough to make my head spin. Everyone was friendly and excited, shaking hands, and re-greeting other groups as they leap-frogged past.
All in all, the day was more parts traveling meet and greet than outdoor experience, but new and exciting all the same. We arrived back at our tarp at the Lake Morena campground around 7p, at which point I immediately took advantage of the shower facilities, an amenity I am sure to miss wistfully at the end of many sweaty days to come. We then availed ourselves of another delicious dinner (and brownies!) courtesy of AZPCTKO before resolving to skip the planned PCT Kick-Off festivities at Lake Morena the next day in favor of continuing our hike.
For the second night in a row, my sleep was sound and wake-less. A fire was started in a ring nearby where a throng developed late in the night, but after a day of sun and of finally stretching my legs, I was far, far away.
