Pacific Crest: Mile 2650

There are times when words escape you. They fly away like a beaten army that failed to capture the moment. How can words convey a dream’s conclusion?

I remember sitting like I am now, a few feet away from a monument, journal in hand. Then I was looking north, knowing that somewhere in the far distance lay that monument’s twin on the Canadian border. It was so far away. Now I am there and I look south and wonder how I ever arrived.

The journey feels distant and close at the same time. So distant, so close. I think about the airline losing my pack, the beauty of the Sierras, the heat of the desert. I think about lightning storms, dancing on volcanoes, and watching the sun set behind Rainier. The images come back rich and deep, but I know they are memories now. Flimsy things that fade to make room for the next.

I don’t want them to fade. I’ve lived a thousand adventures on this journey. I can tell a thousand stories that no one would believe. But I want more.

Now it is all over.

This is a beautiful spot, the monument. A line of cleared timber and little silver obelisk with the number 78 on it mark the border. The place is filled with dreams. We have to fold them away and leave them behind. It hurts badly, so very badly. It hurts the way it should hurt. The pain lets me know the beauty. The trail is over. I cannot believe it, but the trail is over and it hurts.

2 thoughts on “Pacific Crest: Mile 2650

  1. I will hardly know what to harangue you about now that you have finally completed your journal. In some ways I treasured being able to go back to the journal and see that it still rests at Dolly Vista. A warm campfire with friends after a day of tree scrambling, lake jumping and riding endorphins into the sunset. See you on the trail old friend.

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