After picking up my food box which Becky left for me, I had another big climb where water was going to be scarce. I was thrilled partway up to run into a hiker named Chaps, whom I’ve crossed paths with a number of times. She was really sweet and walked with me for a short way. She was planning on doing seven or eight more miles that night and ask me to join her but as I had already done over 16 I wasn’t up for that many more miles. I did toy with the idea of trying to push and keep up with her, but I hadn’t taken a break since I had picked up the resupply box, and in the end I listened to my own internal rhythm. I picked up water at the very last spot it was available for a while and pulled over to the side of the trail when I found a flat spot suitable for a tent. Finding places to camp have been getting harder and harder because of the steepness and unevenness of the trail as well as the rockiness of the ground. Chaps wished me well and assured me we might meet again in Pine. I was sorry to say goodbye to her and told her she was welcome in Vermont anytime.

It was a full moon that night and a number of hikers taking advantage of hiking in the moonlight went by my little campsite. Some of them I had seen before and many of them were new to me. It was fun to make some new connections even though I probably won’t see most of them again on this trail.

Throughout the next few days, I kept leapfrogging with a couple who was out for the week. I was sorry to hear that Young and Younger, a couple in their 70s who were doing their first ever thru hike, got off the trail because Young’s calf was hurting him. They hope to come back and finish the trail in the fall. I give them credit for what they did, completing about half of the trail without taking one zero day.

One day while walking along a gnarly back road I came upon a couple having a delicious smorgasbord off the tailgate of their truck. I stopped and chatted with them. Even though they had driven these roads many times they hadn’t seen hikers before. They were really interested to learn about the trail and offered me some cold water. They also allowed me to eat some of the food from their feast. It was amazing how much more bounce I had in my steps after eating some fresh fruit and other goodies.

I had used my phone more than usual since leaving Roosevelt Lake. I used it to make arrangements for the food pick up with Becky and for a few other situations, including contact with a younger friend who was hiking behind me and had gotten hurt on the trail. He was contacting me through messenger, which I soon discovered used much more battery on my phone then a regular text would. I only carry one small charger on the trail, which is usually enough for three charges, but that too was running low. So one day I decided I would leave my phone off for the entire day. I found it amusing that my little girl was saying “but I want my creature comfort. I need the phone to see where I am.” That part of me really likes looking at the GPS a lot to see exactly how far we’ve walked in the past hour or two and she was rebelling. Besides having the luxury of seeing how far she’d walked whenever she wanted to, she wasn’t going to be able to get any texts in or see if anybody had left messages on the blog. As much as I try not to make my mood dependent on outer circumstances, getting those texts or messages does give that little girl in me a boost on the trail and lets her feel a little bit recognized and cared for.

She tried to convince me to turn on the phone using magical thinking, saying the battery will last, but I didn’t want to buy into that. It was more important that I was able to contact trail Angel Kate in Pine as I got closer.

When magical thinking wasn’t going to work that part of me resorted to insecurity, telling me I might get lost. I reminded all of myself that for years I hiked with only map and compass. In addition I have the trail app with maps installed on my iPad. It doesn’t have GPS capability so I couldn’t indulge myself with seeing where I was on the trail but I could at least pull out the iPad at critical junctions to make sure I was turning the right way. I realized I was going to have to resort to trusting my instincts over using technology to do it all for me. I decided then and there that rather than hating not having my phone on, I was going to see this as a new challenge and a way to keep me connected to that part of myself that could do route finding without a GPS. In reality, I was horrified at how dependent I had become on the GPS.

I was amused by the sense that not using my phone was denying me creature comforts. I recognized that most people would think this entire trip has no creature comfort. Sleeping on a pad that goes from my head to just above my knees and is no wider than my body would not be considered a creature comfort for most people. Nor would waking up in below freezing temperatures every morning be considered comfortable by any means.

So after dialoguing with this part of myself, assuring her that we would be just fine I focused on the challenge of a new experience forcing myself to make memories of what I was seeing rather than just snapping a picture of it.

The area was beautiful. The rock was white and red, and there were a number of cliffs. Rather than saguaro cactus there were now towering ponderosa pines which have a wonderful smell when you sniff their bark.

And by focusing on the beauty around me, I got through that 17 mile day without my phone quite easily.