Footprints For Change

Tag: Pacific Crest Trail

  • I’m not a scientist, I’m a science project

    I’m not a scientist, I’m a science project

    After my Intracranial Hypertension (IH) was in remission, and I had the last shunt removed, I found that I was still having headaches. My neurosurgeon, Dr. Boulis, offered a trial of a different medical device: a neuromodulator to help with the headaches.   Admittedly, I was a bit apprehensive, but I trusted Dr. B; he was the only neurosurgeon I’ve ever had who asked me what treatment I thought was best.


    After what would hopefully be my final brain surgery, my Medtronic neuromodulator was implanted, and my life quality of life improved significantly. One of the many ways my life changed was was that I was able to be active again. I did so with the hopes of becoming a Medtronic Global Hero, which I accomplished. Following the Medtronic Twin Cities in Motion run, I decided to improve my mental health like I had improved my physical health. I opted to hike the PCT.  

    To date, I have hiked 406 miles. This is a major accomplishment, considering less than two years ago I suffered from debilitating headaches. The hike offers a fair share of ups and downs, and I love the up days. I am approaching both colder temperatures and higher altitudes. This is a difficult combination for a lot of people, but for me, it is a lesson in perseverance despite hardship. I have a basic knowledge of how my neuromodulator affects my body, but I don’t fully understand why changes in barometric pressure cause me a great deal of pain. I know that with the help of science, I am living a full life, I’m hiking the PCT, but the upcoming portion is one that I’m starting to mentally prepare for…  

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  • Steps

    Steps

    I think of Lao Tzu’s quote, “The journey of a thousand miles begins with one step.” As I hike the Pacific Crest Trail, I know that my journey did not begin with one step. Instead, it started as a battle many years ago. Of course, I am taking the Tzu quote literally.  

    The journey of 374 miles has been marked by hours of inexplicable jubilation. I’m enthralled by the beauty of everything that surrounds me. More importantly, the blessings within me. There is bliss in the notion that reliance on my own powers and resources is far greater than seeking that strength in others. I now understand that every step is essential, and within those steps . . . is the journey.   

     

     *Due to a fire closure, I bypassed roughly 40 miles of the Pacific Crest Trail.

  • The Giver

    I spent four very long days on the trail confusing people, no doubt by my birth name, Crystal Gail. I’d introduce myself as such, and of course, I would be asked any of the following: “What song did I sing to get that name, “Was this before you shaved your head,” or my favorite, “Please tell me how that became your trail name?” My response was simple: shortly after my birth, I was given that name.

    Though many people here on the trail call me Crystal Gail, CG, Welcome, or a mix of whatever they can remember, a few hikers have chosen something different.

    After being stung by a bee a few hours into my first day, two British hikers wanted to name me stingy. Nope!

    The following day, after waitressing in exchange for housing, I was called ‘awesome.’ There was no way anyone would believe I didn’t come up with that name out for myself, especially since I refer to myself as awesome all the time. I reluctantly said no.

    After declining that trail name, someone suggested I be named ‘Server.’ There are so many negative connotations with that title. I vetoed the title, tried to explain why it was inappropriate. I can’t say for sure that the hikers well received my explanation that suggested the title.

    The following day several people needed help with various things: directions, shakedown questions ( I’ve been shaken down so much I think I’m a master now – my base weight is 13, that’s including my neuro patient programmer that’s 1.5 pounds), and logistical questions about shipping items home.

    I started to offer suggestions to help my fellow hikers, ultimately finding solutions to many of the worries that most hikers faced.

    A young man from the night before said to me, ‘You’re right, Server doesn’t fit, you’re a giver. You’re “The Giver”; thus, I am “The Giver.”

    I’ve been informed that ‘The Giver’ is an excellent read. After all, it’s worthy enough to be listed in the top 100 books of all time. I have not read “The Giver,” but I plan to someday.

  • Gear List

    Gear List

    gear

    ɡir/

    noun

    noun: gear; plural noun: gears

    2.
    informal
    equipment that is used for a particular purpose.

    If you are following this blog or reading it for the first time (thank you and welcome) I am preparing to hike the Pacific Crest Trail.  Currently, I am seven days away from the start of what will be an epic journey.

     

    I’m filled with a lot of nervous energy, putting the final pieces together. I have packed, repacked then packed, and repacked again. There are a lot of factors to take into consideration, regarding gear I’m all set.

     

    Without further ado, the long-awaited Gear List:

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  • Doubt

    Doubt

    It’s not a terrible thing that we feel fear when faced with the unknown. It is part of being alive, something we all share. – Pema Chodron

    doubt

    dout/

    noun

    noun: doubt; plural noun: doubts
    a feeling of uncertainty or lack of conviction.

     

    Thirty days until . . .
    Those ellipses that linger after the countdown speak volumes. Yet, it means uncertainty. The feeling of uncertainty naturally leads to a sense of doubt. Doubt is starting to creep into my mind. All of the what-ifs . . .

    What if ill-prepared?
    What if my gear isn’t adequate?
    What if I get chased down a cliff by a wild Markhor?
    Yes, this has been a fear.
    Yes, I know Markhor’s don’t live in North America, let alone on the Pacific Crest Trail.
    The absurdity of this epic chase always leads to me being bit by a deer, falling into a river, and riding a manatee.

    Uncertainty leads to fear, fear of the unknown, which leads to doubt.

    I spend a great deal of time trying to establish a level of control regarding this hike.

    I’ve calculated my speed.
    I’ve mapped out stopping points (somewhat crucial in my case because of my need to recharge my neuromodulator batteries).
    I’ve even gone as far as planning a family get-together in Portland, Oregon, on a specific date.
    I realized this need for control is me not embracing the uncertainty.
    My journey isn’t about following a strict schedule or knowing everything now.
    It’s about releasing, letting go, and surrendering to the power of the unknown.
    Accepting the . . .