This Pacific Northwesttrail is kicking my butt and I have often felt like throwing in the towel. So far it is not the hardest trail I have done. The ups and downs in many places on the Appalachian Trail are much harder. The rocks on the Arizona Trail were more brutal. I was in worst snow on both the AT in winter and the PCT in the 1980’s. Heat, scarcity of water and isolation on the Continental Divide Trail were worse. And foot and knee pain are old friends. But for some reason all of these things combined are making it difficult for me to want to keep going on the PNT.

I started this trail with three other people. Now, at almost mile 249, the young man Trashalope has quit due to injury. Sarah, the young woman, is behind me by a few days. Like me, she has been struggling with wanting to continue hiking the PNT. Mary, the woman who is almost my age, is an amazing elite athlete who walks almost twice as fast as I do and makes it seem effortless. As of this writing she and I are still at the same place on the trail but I expect her to pull way ahead soon. We have not hiked together since Glacier and the only reason I have caught up to her in towns is because she has done zeros while nursing some hurt legs and feet.

While I am sure the extreme heat and continual steep ups and downs contribute to my discouragement, I know the real reason lies in me. And so, in trying to figure out why I have felt so discouraged on this trail, I’ve tried to shift from looking at the trail to looking inside.

As usual, when I do that I discover some interesting revelations.

For starters, I’ve had to come face to face with those competitive parts of myself, especially the ones who never could keep up with my much older brothers. I thought I had cleared those ghosts out of my closet but now I see them surfacing again as I come to terms with not being able to keep up with the other Mary. And since she is just two years my junior I can’t even use age as an excuse. So on a deeper level I have been working on letting go of competition and comparison with others as a way to give myself self worth. As much as comparison can sometimes be useful, I see how often I have used it as a tool to keep myself down or to feel better about myself. I have to stop trying to keep up with anyone else and remember to hike my own hike.

Those realizations got me wondering why I so wanted to keep up with the small group forming ahead of me. After all I have been hiking solo for a number of years. In addition I have almost always felt left out of groups and still feel that way when I am with that group of hikers. As I kept trying to figure out why I was losing my internal rhythm by trying so hard to keep up with others on the trail it suddenly hit me. Being alone as a child was dangerous. When certain males caught me alone it gave them license to do what they wanted. As a result I tried never to be caught alone. Making this connection left me feeling extremely vulnerable. But it also helped me to step back and make the decision to slow down and find my inner rhythm again. I want to remind those vulnerable parts of me that when I was caught alone with a charging grizzly bear, I stood up to him and growled back. I am no longer a helpless child and will be fine alone. In fact, over these last four years I have cultivated a comfort in being alone with all parts of myself.

This is a good thing for me to remember now as I prepare to leave Bonners Ferry, Idaho, my only trail town stop in Idaho. I’ll leave here carrying eight days worth of food to get me to my next stop 106 miles away. I have to through lions head, one of the hardest sections on the trail. The reason it’s so difficult is that there is no trail. For at least 6 miles it’s a complete bushwhack that takes many hikers the better part of a day. The forester who gave me a ride to Bonners Ferry reiterated what I had heard before: the low route that I’ll take along the river is known to be prime grizzly bear country. They don’t recommend that people hike it alone. I’ve tried to find other people to hike it with, but it looks like I will be hiking it solo. Other people are either going faster than I am or planning on taking a high cliff route around the bushes. This high route requires class three rocks scrambling which is not something I want to do.

Yesterday I might’ve been a bit more uncomfortable heading into this alone. But now I feel that by the time I set out of Bonners Ferry early tomorrow morning, I’ll take what comes and do the best I can do. This change came about in me by really paying attention to how I was feeling.

I was in the large bathroom at the campground I am staying at when a woman came in and asked me how I was doing. I felt myself on the verge of tears as I started to answer her. I knew then that I was needing more self care than I had been aware of. I decided to take the entire day off from hiking and to nurture myself with rest, food, writing and connecting with friends.

I’ll draw on what I’ve learned from all my previous trail experiences, putting one foot in front of the other, listening to my bodily needs, allowing myself time for daily contemplation and eating when I need to eat, even if the heat is making it hard to put calories into my body. Hopefully by the time you next hear from me, I’ll be safely, passed the Lionshead bushwhack and at least another hundred miles down the trail.