CDT Day 96 (8/22/23)

Miles 2297.6 (Red line 2642)- 2316.3 (Red line 2660.7) (18.7 miles)

Verbatim

Not so many miles today! I’m writing from the evening of the 23rd because trail is crazy. But, two evenings ago the wind kicked up like crazy around 10:30 and it drizzled. I had to get up immediately to set up my tarp. I had a hard time falling asleep afterwards. Tough night because then at 4:30 am or so it started raining hard! My tarp was consequently wet, which is a huge pain. There was a late start because it was a poor night. There were blowdowns, there was climbing, there was not enough food. I was angry and hungry and tired. Not a good morning on trail. I didn’t have enough water either to be honest. I skipped the middle day source as well because it was a half mile off trail with descent. It rained at that time as well. A half hour shower that I cowered away from under a tree. Buttsweat Bill (yuck to that trail name), Hershey Squirts (that one is funny) and Pinky all braved that climb and that rain. I figured I’d just suffer the eight miles with hardly a fifth of a liter and get into High Divide Outfitters thirsty.

I did get some water, however, when I ran into some bike packers, Matt and Heather, at the pass. Heather shared a liter. They were from Canada and are quite dedicated travelers. They’ve biked in Turkey and Eastern Europe. They’ve walked two Caminos. You got the sense they’ve spent more time moving as well, just without needing to mention it. We had fun chatting human powered travel culture and philosophy. What a great way to travel. None can compete with foot and pedal.

There was a fire tower which Pinky and I got to the top of. It’s now a rental cabin. I was informed of this by the guy I presumed to be the fire lookout. haha. Great vibes. :)

I got to High Divide Outfitters at 5:05, but David had just left for an appointment in town at 5. Buttsweat was there and he gave me kimchi ramen with textured vegetable protein!!! It was delicious. I had been counting on the store for dinner. David wouldn’t be back until nine. So, the four of us, once gathered, ate dinner and slammed sodas that David had for sale on the porch. Eventually those three took off and were replaced immediately by a Canadian couple; Biggy and Shepherd. They gave me more food so I ate another ramen and a cheese stick. More soda. It was good. Soda cans are officially added to the list of ideal trail foods. I don’t have to carry aluminum. :)

I chatted with these two until nine. No David. We all went to bed. At ten it started raining. And hard. The outfitter was build on a slope with a gravel driveway. There was no way to camp in the woods. So I had set up cowboy under the tarp and umbrellas set over the picnic table. I was getting wet regardless. Wet enough to wake me up. But, just as I became soaked enough to know I needed to change the situation David arrived! He pulled up in his truck and I greeted him. Then I moved all my things, after asking, into his shed. I slept there amidst the trash, mouse droppings, wood shavings, and various tools. It was dry. I slept like a baby.

What a ridiculous day. It was real social. The milage sucked, but I was reminded of what most other hikers experience. 20’s and lots of people and drinks. It was good to hang with people, and so many different people. I lost three hours of hiking time. But it’s alright.

Post Note

Buttsweat Bill is probably the worst trail name I’ve ever heard. Super sweet guy. Twenty-nine I think he said? Had been married and divorced and funnily enough he was currently dating a post-Seventh-day Adventist at the time we met. Her dad was a pastor to boot. I probably know them. I remember thinking, “Huh. That could have been me” and “Better to break up now than divorce later”. Anyways. Buttsweat Bill (I’m going to have to keep calling him that) was really excited to be a thruhiker. He was just sectioning but had plans to be on the PCT the next year. It was a big deal in his relationship, I remember him saying, for him to be gone so long. But he was committed, to both the PCT and the girl that is. I get it man. Anyways. He struck me as the type of kid who was kind of anxious about stepping into this new world he was so excited about (totally relatable) and was so excited to have a new trail name to prove it to others (really to himself) that he was part of the group. Doubtless he will carry Buttsweat Bill into the first miles of his PCT hike as a sort of badge by which he can feel some sort of validation. Like, “Hi other people. I already have a trail name so I know what I’m doing, am cool, and am a thruhiker”. My guess is that he’ll end up changing it half way through the hike. And that’s totally ok! You can change your name as much as you want. You just are who you are, and you get to decide that, and then people get the opportunity to treat you well by calling you what you know yourself to be. It’s not that hard; pronouns or trail names.

So, if Buttsweat Bill decides to change his name I’ll be all here for it. I really don’t think it’s a good name. To be known for the amount of sweat you have isn’t that great. And to throw your butt into the equation is whatever. I mean, my butt sweats too. So does the next person’s. You might be thinking then that Hershey Squirts is also a bad trail name. But you’re wrong (I think)! Hershey Squirts is a really funny and lighthearted trail name. Hershey Squirts is not about diarrhea, something all thruhikers know about, but rather about an exploding Hershey bar inside a backpack on a 90+ degree day on a thruhike. That’s a story right there. Not everyone opens their backpack, hungrily searching for a yummy snack, to find liquid chocolate coating their sleeping bag (which you then lick off because you wouldn’t waste that chocolate and have to clean your bag without using prolific amounts of water which would hurt the down). So Hershey Squirts is a sort of play on words. It’s a good story at least. It goes further than the fact that human beings sweat to keep cool.

I’m judgmental. I own it. And it’s not like Haystack is all that great of a trail name. People ask me how I got it and I share that I had a straw hat. Boring. But it’s who I am, and it’s emblematic of where I came from. If you know you know. So Haystack means something to me and is a basic enough name to not draw undue attention. The word Haystack takes on definition as the people I meet begin to form associations about who I am. It’s open to interpretation based on who I am.

I feel like people are disappointed that I don’t have a good story behind my trail name. So after I tell them I had a straw hat I tell them I almost took a different trail name; Buttsock. It’s a lie, that was never an option for my trail name. I’d had Haystack as a trail name for two years before the butt sock story. But I tell the lie and it draws their attention back. Taking a name like butt sock would have been just as bad as Bill’s. But I do have a butt sock story, and then I tell it and it’s a good story and people laugh, and then I ask them how they got their trail name and then the social lubricant has been applied and we can see if we’ll become friends. No I’m not going to tell you the butt sock story. There’s too much pressure now and so the story won’t come off right. Plus, I like to tell the butt sock story while reading your facial expressions so I can judge if I should really embellish or not. If it’s just text I feel too anxious you won’t laugh. Then this whole post would be ruined because I would have failed my moment of charisma and you wouldn’t take anything I say seriously anymore.

I’ve had quite a few different names during my life. Andrew. Drew (for the duration of fourth grade and then through Joe and Katie). Bambi as part of the Elk Pack (which morphed into Bambz). I’ve experienced what is the almost universal (English language) human honor of being someone’s “babe” during one relationship. Haystack as a thruhiker. I might even be missing a name. I can’t remember… I thought about changing my name on this 2023 thruhike. I just didn’t feel like the same person out there. I felt like L had changed me. I certainly couldn’t call L L anymore. Instead her contact had her middle name in it. But I decided not to change my name. I didn’t want to give the horrible experience I’d had ownership over my name. I didn’t need to run from it either. I was Haystack because at mile 170 on the PCT (by the bluff overlook just a few miles before the Paradise Valley Cafe) General and Lying Irish heard my story, looked at my hat, and said Haystack would be a good name. We smiled, appreciated the sunset on the mountain, and then started walking again. I was Haystack. I was Haystack long before any of this.