Day 4. Tuesday, June 23, 2009. Mileage: 745.6 – 753.6 (8 PCT miles plus 2.5 from Horseshoe Meadows)

I’ve been thinking about my simple, trail happiness versus the nuanced, emotionally wrought happiness that I feel in the urban rhythm of New York City. Walking the pleasantly graded trail today, I felt an uncomplicated but raw satisfaction; a simplicity of self content that stretches itself gracefully and generously alongside the quiet trail. It feels rooted and fundamental, this sense of here and now happiness. It doesn’t rush or lag but flows forward; its current drifts unfettered and smooth.

This is markedly different from the precarious self-content that I create and maintain in the city. On any given day as I navigate the city, my content teeters on a tenuously balanced beam. Happiness in a city is personal and highly nuanced – it can dazzle and soar, and yet it can plummet and bruise easily. It can feel like an undeserved and delightful gift; yet the quiet murmur that this gift is temporary and it can and will fade is always heard and understood. Long distance walking in primarily uncompromised nature mellows my temperament to a fundamental happiness that registers as more sustainable.

We spent last night at a hostel in Lone Pine which provided us the opportunity to do laundry, shower, resupply, replace the fleece I left in the truck of our hitch, and eat at a restaurant. I woke up early in the hostel eager to return to the PCT. Tom, the trail angel we met our first night out, was in town and he gave us a ride back to the trailhead. Riding in a car and moving at a pace far beyond that of our 2.5 mile per hour clip made me quiet. This combined with my gratitude for the ride back into the mountains turned me practically mute, so Jess did all the talking during the ride.

Today was a near perfect day. Once back on the trail, we hiked to a clear and beautiful lake for a chilly dip in the water (there are snow patches on the ground). I found this flat, hot rock to sprawl out on and was so content there I told Jess that I had found a new home on this here rock. The chipmunks around the lake enjoyed climbing atop our backpacks in an attempt to sneak some food. We also saw our first marmot today! Those chubby little babies are so full of personality.

I gave Jess the name Dangermouse this morning for her pervasive anxiety about the bears, the snow, Mount Whitney, Forester Pass, etc, etc. Her list of fears is updated daily as newly perceived hurdles present themselves, but some of it is half in jest – we giggle about her snow fears and how well her new name suits her. We both know she can handle nearly anything that comes her way.

Lone Pine was a convenient town with a lot of old West character and friendly locals, but I am very pleased to be back in the tent and on the trail. Our 2.6 mile night hike was through white sand and boulders so uniformly pale that it looked like we had hit a blanket of snow. The sky moved through a palette of blues unlike any theater of shades I have ever seen before. I have to bite my tongue almost every night to keep from telling Dangermouse that this was the happiest day of my life.