Wildfire

I’ve been thinking a lot about the book idea today—especially how I could weave short personal accounts of my trail experience into the more scientific sections. Although it’s not entirely related, I was reminded of Primo Levi’s “Periodic Table,” where he alternates between fictional stories and direct life experiences. Several people have told me this could turn into something worthwhile, but there’s a lot of work to do. Today, I also reconsidered who might offer to be my early readers. I have two or three names in mind. Another issue will be finding a potential publisher, but I’m getting ahead of myself—Canada is still a long way off.

Yesterday, we covered the first six or seven miles of an area called the Desolation Wilderness, and today we walked out of it. It spans about twenty-two miles, and it felt like being back in the Sierras (except for the altitude). These scorching early July days have blessed us with perfect weather to take a dip in every lake we come across. This is exactly how we wished the Sierra had been—though it certainly made us pay a steep price for its beauty.

Today, just like in a video game, the difficulty level has risen once again, and a new kind of obstacle has entered the field: wildfires. Thanks to the occasional weak internet signal we manage to catch, we discovered that a fire has started near Donner Pass—where we’re supposed to arrive by Wednesday—coming within a few dozen yards of the trail. We haven’t been able to check for any official PCTA announcements, but a post in a local Facebook group of trail angels strongly advises against continuing beyond Barker Pass, which is just over six miles from where we’re camped tonight.

So what should we do? A wildfire is not something to mess around with—just like the raging creeks in the Sierra Nevada. So tomorrow, we’ll take a detour down to Lake Tahoe and then figure out how to get to Donner Pass by other means—probably hitchhiking or catching a bus, if there’s one available. We’ll be skipping about forty miles, but we don’t have much choice. We always knew wildfires would show up sooner or later and force us to skip sections, but we thought we’d only have to deal with them in Oregon or further north in California.

Among the topics that came up during our casual chats were writing—Fabio asked if all the courses I’ve taken have noticeably changed my writing—and a discussion about the meaning of a thru-hike. I could write at length about writing: I told him about my experiences and how they’ve helped me most (not to mention the many people in the business I’ve met along the way). I’ve had my fair share of experiences in this field: from literary treks to mountain schools, from subpar online courses to excellent workshops, including my brief stint as an aspiring editor, which culminated in a workshop where I worked directly with an author on his novel. After covering so much ground, I must have learned something. Just as, if and when I make it to Canada, something will have changed inside (and, I think, outside) of me.

The discussion about the meaning of a thru-hike is a bit more complex, and I don’t think I have the clearest ideas about it yet. I’ll leave it for another time because it’s undoubtedly a topic close to my heart—one I’d like to explore properly, first and foremost for myself.