Tuesday, June 17- Depression

I need to start writing in the morning. Come nightfall, I'm so exhausted that all I want to do is pass out.

Back to where I left off. Hiking solo at night is terrifying. All I could hear was the crunching of sticks and pine needles beneath my feet, and instead of seeing the trail markers posted on the trees, all I saw were sap-bleeding claw marks, which meant bears were close. It would have been an easier hike had I been in an open meadow where the moon's light could relieve the darkness, but in the middle of the thick wood, even my headlamp could not pierce the silent black night.

Today I'm ready for whatever the trail will bring. I hiked 19 miles yesterday, so I'll be taking it easy today and will be hiking only 14 to get into Kenosha Pass. I am consistently impressed by my body's ability to recouperate after a day of arduous hiking.

I talked to an ambitious older woman this morning who is also thru-hiking the trail. She said that Georgia Pass (10 miles after Kenosha Pass), right before Breckenridge, was still impassable due to snow. Maybe it will be impassable for her, but I'm not worried about it.

I've been taking the morning really slow. Spent some time cleaning my dishes and doing some laundry over in the creek, which was actually incredibly enjoyable. I cleaned some gear, packed up, ate a slow breakfast and now I'm journaling. For the first time on this trip, I feel relaxed. I've grown so accustomed to the grind of city life that I've forgotten how to be still. Even out here, I've been cramming my days with high-milage hikes instead of taking my time to enjoy the peace that thrives in this mountain air.

There are times during the day that I begin to feel lonely. I believe this will pass. I think that my loneliness is nothing more than a phase-a response to a change in lifestyle. I think it was Thoreau who said that 'one is never alone when in nature'.

Later that night:

Today has been very introspective. The trail was lonesome, but it gave me an opportunity to clear my head.

The forest is fascinating. The recyclability of the earth is incredible. Trees take root, grow, thrive, and then fall, decomposing into billions of microscopic nutrients that enrich the soil to nourish other plant life. Animals are born and use these same trees for food, shelter, and other utilities. In death, their bodies are recycled into the ground, and they too enrich the soil. The beauty and self-sustaining quality of ecosystems is unbelievable.

There's a guy named Jesse camping here at Kenosha Pass who is riding his bike all the way from New York City to San Fransisco to visit his brother. He said he's been on the road about a month and he's got about another month to go. He's towing a little bike trailer and everything. I didn't even know that a ride like that was possible. It was nice to talk to Jesse.

From where I am camping, I can hear the cars rush past on I-285. This is not a complaint; it reminds me of home, and I feel much more safe and much less alone.

I felt like giving up today, but I knew I couldn't. I feel bored and lonely. But here are my options: I continue on the trail, hopefully learn/experience something all the while remaining bored and lonely, or I could head back to Denver, back to my nine-to-five, back to smoking, back to drinking. I've been down that road, I know what waits. I find no virtue nor happiness in hedonism, and I can't fathom the shame I'd feel, having returned as a failure.

Beautiful views today. Too bad a) I was too depressed to take good photos and b)I suck at photography, and CAN'T take good photos. I've been thinking alot about God and spirituality lately. And I've been nibbling at Walden. More on these later.