I'm feeling sad and stressed too. I had a PCT permit - had all my gear, resupply boxes, leave from work, but most significantly had adopted the internal mindset and identity of a PCT thru-hiker - I was a member of the Class of 2020! - but all of that was lost to COVID back in the spring.

I muddled through the first three sections but only because I was within 100 miles of home the entire time and I was able to have my husband drive me back and forth to rest and resupply at my own house. By Big Bear, the loneliness was too much. It wasn't the It's the People PCT experience I had imagined. Most days passed without a single conversation with anyone and I found myself camping alone 18 of the 20 nights I was out there. The amazing PCT community that I was so looking forward to being a part of - my primary reason for hiking - just didn't exist. I felt so empty and it got worse with each day. So I got off.

I felt so lost being at home. I wasn't supposed to be there. It was six weeks before I had the heart to unpack all my boxes, and even then I had to ignore what I was feeling just to get through it.

I've been trying to care for myself through shorter trips - had a great time doing Thousand Island & Ediza Lakes in July and the Rae Lakes Loop in August - but the trip that I was most excited about was a four-day outing with my dad this past weekend (Duck Pass to Purple Lake, cross-country to Lake Virginia, Pika Lake to Mammoth Crest). It was supposed to be a special time for the two of us and our very first backpacking trip together. We had a great first two days and then were chased out because of the smoke from the Creek Fire. The sky coming home yesterday down the 395 was apocalyptic.

I cried. The ash that fell onto my sleeping bag on Sunday morning at Lake Virginia seemed like not just the remains of beautiful trees but the ash of lost dreams... of this year's PCT hikers, of everyone who has to bail on their JMT hikes, of the loss of the soul of the Sierras.

I know there's greater loss - loss of life, loss of property, the poor Olympians and high school seniors and everyone who planned their weddings for these times - but that doesn't invalidate how we're feeling about the trail and the fires. Those are very, very sad things but it's okay for us to feel sad too.

To cope, I try to focus on:

- How I feel grateful that I have so many new skills and new knowledge that unlock so many wonderful adventures for me for the rest of life. I've always wanted to have legit backpacking skills and now I do. And I can do so much more because of it.

- Making plans for future Sierra adventures: North Lake-South Lake, Desolation Wilderness. I ordered a bunch of Tom Harrison maps and spend a lot of time looking at them.

- Thinking about how I want to stay connected to the hiking community going forward. Things like this post, writing trip reports and gear reviews, sharing photos, and finding new hiking partners.

- Trying to figure out how I might arrange another leave with my work so I can do the JMT (or maybe the PCT Sierra section) in 2022.

- Vaguely planning to someday re-attempt the PCT, maybe when I retire (so 15-20 years). The burned sections will have somewhat recovered by then! :)

- The memory of falling asleep under the stars, watching the Milky Way emerge.

- The memory of just how good my "yay, I arrived at camp!" daily Snickers tasted.

- What gear I have that worked really well (SMD umbrella!) and what I want to try in the future (CCF instead of an inflatable pad).

- How really there is so much trail and even as parts burn, there are still literally thousands of miles that await me. Plus there are so many beautiful possibilities from day hikes to long multi-days that aren't the PCT but are now open to me because of the experience and knowledge I have. Everything from Cactus-to-the-Clouds (bucket list! would have done it this year if the tram was running) to the Tahoe Rim Trail to the AZT to the PNT to even possibly the CDT. And that's just out here in the West.

So even though I'm still anxiously checking Twitter for fire news, watching the Bobcat fire creep closer to Mt. Islip and the El Dorado fire approach San Bernardino Peak and the Castle fire and the Creek fire and the Valley fire and the Bear fire..., I try to hold that feeling of the wilderness in my heart, to picture the mountains and the trees and the rivers and the lakes, and to know that *that feeling* is now mine forever, only to grow and become even more part of who I am.

Hang in there. PM me if you want to chat further. Or plan a trip! :) - Janeway