Bouncing to the rythym of a hurried pace, my headlamp paints the trail on the darkness before me. Treading miles is a mill like experience at night. My steps are consumed at a machine like pace, until finally, it’s time to flip the switch, and go to bed.
To steal a line from Robert Moor’s recent Buzzfeed article:
Frédéric Gros, a philosopher of walking, nicely conveys this sensation: “There is a moment when you walk several hours that you are only a body walking. Only that. You are nobody. You have no history. You have no identity. You have no past. You have no future. You are only a body walking.”
Of late I’ve upped the mileage to 25 per day, which has made for earlier mornings and later nights. But Canada is very much on the way, so long as I keep up the 20+ mile per day pace.
Though I write this in good spirits, my mind is preoccupied at the moment. I’ll share only photos for now.
PCT Mile 1,501.9
