“It’s not you, it’s me” — breaking up with California

I’ve been meaning to write an update for a little while but to be honest, I haven’t felt up to it. So much walking, so little time for writing and I’ve been trying to stay in the moment, soaking up time on trail rather than feeling compelled to be on my phone too much. It’s been a refreshing break but now, as we finally approach the Oregon border, it feels like a good time for an update.

By the time I hit Oregon, I will have spent over 100 days waking 1700+ miles through the entire state of California. It feels a little unfair to have walked so far and still be in the same state but the diversity of the landscapes has been astonishing and I’ve loved moving slowly through it, winding my way north and visiting the small towns along the way.

Compared to the notoriety of desert and the undeniable beauty of the Sierra sections, Northern California doesn’t get much of a wrap. One thing I had heard about before starting the trail was the NorCal blues which lead me to believe that this section was a bit of a let down. I’m happy to report that the landscape has well and truly surpassed my expectations — NorCal is stunning.  Turns out the ‘NorCal blues’ have little to do with the actual trail and more to the fact that the elation of recently passing the halfway point, has given way to a dawning realisation that there is still a long way to go. We’re closing in on 100 days out here and I’ve absolutely loved so much of this experience but I’m tired. The relentless sameness of the daily routine is getting to me.

I don’t want to sound ungrateful. I know that being out here is an enormous privilege and I don’t take that for granted for a second. Nor am I trying to solicit sympathy — every day I make an active decision to continue hiking. I know I can stop any time I like. No one is forcing me to be here. I want to continue. I have 7-8ish weeks left and the pull of the Canadian border feels magnetic. I’ve come too far to back out now and I have every intention of keeping on going.

But that doesn’t change the fact that this is hard, in ways I didn’t expect. Physically my body is adapting to the load. The muscle memory of the years of training have kicked into gear and every time I ask for more from my body, it answers. I feel strong and resilient, the muscle definition in my legs creeping back in with the passing miles.

My head is a different story — the last few weeks have seemed to drag on and my enthusiasm for hiking is at an all time low. Going to bed is often the best part of my day and waking up the worst — my alarm rouses me and I’m awash with dread, intimidated by the prospect of another long day of walking and counting the hours til I get to crawl into my sleeping bag again. This moment doesn’t last long before I immerse myself in a quick gratitude practice and remind myself of the fact that nothing lasts forever so to savour as much of this incredible opportunity as I can. For now I’m feeling grateful for my physical health, my supportive and thoughtful friends (both on and off trail) and the incredible natural beauty I’m surrounded with. Reminding myself of these three main things makes all the difference. My bitterness fades quickly and I emerge from my tent, ready to face another day.

I don’t want anyone to worry about me because overall, I’m fine and I’ll be ok. It just felt important to share that it’s not always fun and games out here. Sometimes it’s hard— really hard — and not only because doing back to back marathons 8 days in a row is a lot of walking.

In short, it’s not you NorCal, it’s me. The last 1600 miles has been amazing but now the honeymoon phase is over, I think it’s time we start seeing other people/states.

Time for a quick fling through Oregon!