CDT Day 24 (6/11/23)

Miles 514 (Red line 628.8)- 526.3 (Red line 641.9) (12.3 miles)

Verbatim

I was up early and out the door for my flight. Much thanks to mom and dad for getting me there on time. It was easier this time to get my backpack up and into the over head compartments, even though I had two different flights. Each leg was short, and I liked that. I ate a tomato, mozzarella, and basil sandwich in Phoenix. I grabbed another piece of pizza from Albuquerque airport. The young man at the counter was the same guy from when I bought pizza on my way out to San Diego. He didn’t recognize me even though I made a remark that I recognized him (Leave it to me to try and make a moment out of buying airport pizza...).

Then I took a huge poop (wow) and ordered a Lyft ride. Gerry (pronounced Jerry) was my driver. She was one crazy monologuing hippie from New Mexico. She could see spirits, and wanted to be a Naturopathic Physician, and could do energy healing. She talked so incessantly about everything. There were 30ft femur bones that were found in NM which the Smithsonian hid. There are rainbow Eucalyptus trees in Maui (ok I just looked that up and it’s true says the interwebs). Quantum physics is about to show the reality of energy work. Defender spirits are either blue, purple, and white or gold and silver. Bad spirits are blacker than black. She was going to show me a video of the spirit she saw and recorded. But she never got around to it (In her defense she was driving. haha). She dropped me off at the Cuban Cafe which was half a mile short of the general destination of “Cuba New Mexico” which I’d asked for. I got an automated message from Lyft notifying me that I’d been dropped in the wrong place and asked if everything was ok. I thought to myself, “yes, yes I’m ok”. I was exhausted by her talking. She was so happy to go to Cuba because she could go to Jemez. I still don’t know what Jemez is...

Being in Cuba was alright. I ate at the Cuban Cafe again and greeted two French tour divide cyclists, Max and Sophie(?). After that I walked to the McDonalds but the bathrooms were packed. So I walked across the street to the grocery store and asked to use the bathroom. I was reluctantly let in. I pooped again, thank God, and then bought $75 worth of resupply. I’m not particularly impressed with the selection.

The check out lady was surprised to see me checking out with a half gallon of mint ice cream. She laughed when I told her I was about to eat it right now. I made it about half way through. When I went back inside I asked if there was a trash can. She said she’d take the remaining tub but there was a problem. The lid of the tub was plastic! I told her I wanted to keep the lid. Then I took the lid off. She hesitatingly took the open tub of ice cream with a melting round of left over ice cream in the middle. Then I asked to use the bathroom again so I could wash out my pot. She hesitatingly said yes. She took the keys off and walked back to the bathroom and unlocked it for me again! It was awkward. I washed my pot, my ice cream lid, and a humus container and got the hell out of there. Then I filled up water at McDonalds.

The walk out of Cuba was physically very pleasant. Four miles of road but with wind and cloud cover. A shaded climb up into pine forest. Then a flat walk toward and past a lake. I saw Elk frolicking in water and chasing each other. I’d never seen Elk play like that before. There was even the ambiance of a thunderstorm, though it never rained more than a few drops. Before the lake I caught up to the French couple who were camped. We talked about America and the deer nearby their campsite. They saw a wolf near Ghost lake! They were surprised to see me and said I’d walked very fast. They were really fun to talk to.

Post Note

I cannot, cannot, stand monologues. Listening is really hard. And I’m actually trying to listen to you. So when you just keep talking I get exhausted and then I can’t listen later to the people I care more about because I’m exhausted from listening to you. I mean, it’s ok to express yourself! Please, talk! I want to hear you, and feel as awkward as the next person when there’s a silence that should be filled. But, when you talk, talk towards a meaningful communication. Complete that communication. Then wait for me to respond. I might just say something like “wow” and then I’ll look in your eyes until you continue. Or maybe I’ll reflect what I just heard from you with my own words. When comfortable, maybe I’ll even share something from my own experience which I feel relates. But man, I don’t need ten minutes about something I don’t care about just for you to continue with something else. I’d rather the silence.

I met a hiker on the PCT once who endlessly monologued. He’s the only hiker I’ve ever met who was actively trying to utilize the “social” feature on Guthook. We “followed” each other and I could read his updates. I think he got off trail at Kennedy Meadows South because that was his last post. He walked with a friend who was insistent his trail name should be monologue or soliloquy. He didn’t like either of those names, haha. But hey man. Names reflect identity.

When you’re walking with someone on trail you can control how you spend time with them. It’s quite simple. Tired of their presence, just pull off to “poop”. Rest for five, ten, fifteen minutes or whatever. Then start walking again. If you find them waiting for you later (which would be really bad trail manners unless you were actually friends) you can always just claim you have to poop again. That’s totally natural on trail. If they’re still insistent then tell em to screw off or find a friend to help manage the pressure.

I’m thinking now that this blog is a monologue. But it’s consensual. You’re here reading because you’ve decided to. If you’re not impressed you leave! So while it’s maybe asking a lot for you read this crap at least it’s not a captive situation. When you’re trapped in a car, hot damn. I hate it. Let’s go ride bikes instead. Let’s walk.