Do you ever wonder if the path that you have chosen for yourself is the correct one? How do you become convinced that you are exactly where you are supposed to be?

Whilst on the PCT, I had a couple of moments where I really wondered if hiking the entire trail was where I was supposed to be. I struggled to believe in myself and that I was strong enough to stick to my original goal. In addition, I couldn’t define what the trail meant to me. I had left my tramily and had become lonely at times, wondering why I made that decision to hike alone. I had reached the halfway point, and the entire rest of the trail felt so out of reach. What had I done? How could I make it on my own? What was the point in finishing the trail?

I didn’t have the answers. My moods shifted all day every day for the entire trek through the Northern California section of the trail. I kept hoping my O.G., Energizer, and brother, Improv, would show up behind me. I tried to imagine what the feeling would be for me if I made it to the Canadian terminus. However, I just couldn’t find the answers to satisfy me.

Without answers, I often convinced myself that I was going to just quit the trail. Maybe the answer was to change my routine and location. I had an idea of where to go and where I should be. It was Italy.

A couple of weeks before I was to begin my trail journey, my best friend, Giulia, contacted me with news that she had become ill. She had had surgery and was to undergo months of treatments and therapies. My heart sank. Instantly, I began to re-structure my entire summer and instead of hiking the PCT, I would instead travel to Italy and spend the entire summer alongside her. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that she would never accept that plan. She was so supportive of my plan to hike from Mexico to Canada regardless of how crazy it seemed. I knew I had to begin the trail and find a way to bring her moments of joy as I hiked along.

In my weakest mental state in Northern California, I had decided that I was a failure on all fronts. I was being selfish to stay on the trail and not be in Italy with her. However, if I was to quit the trail at that moment, I would fail to accomplish one of my life goals. I had left my tramily to focus more on my deep mental states, and there I was feeling broken and empty without them. I had FAILED!

With no clear resolution in sight, I contacted Giulia’s father to determine the likelihood of me traveling to Italy. He told me he thought it was a great idea. I couldn’t bring myself to ask if I could visit in the upcoming weeks, so instead I suggested to visit in October and surprise her for her birthday. That would have allowed me to complete the remainder of the trail, if I wanted.

That basic interaction and idea brought me just enough satisfaction that I could formulate a plan. Instantly, I began to search for flights and I found an incredible price for direct round-trip flights. It was a sign. I was meant to travel to and from Italy on those dates. Every time I had cell phone service, I would exchange messages with Giulia informing her of my adventure and listening to her roller coaster through her current life. With me, she always remained so positive and full of life. Every time she would go to an appointment and get fantastic results, I would feel her strength all the way from Italy in my muscles. If she was providing me with the strength to go on, certainly I could do the same for her. I just had to BELIEVE.

I hiked big miles through the rest of Northern California and made new friends that sort of became a new tramily to me. They certainly weren’t Energizer and Improv, but multiple times when I had suggested to Energizer that I hike without him, he always told me there were so many other people for me to meet. He wasn’t wrong, despite my disappointment that he appeared to not care if I didn’t hike along with him. But in reality, he was just expressing his support of my decision making and I knew that.

Finally after 3 months in California, I hit the California/Oregon border. I was the strongest I had ever been in my entire life. Physically, I felt like I could conquer anything. Socially, it was easy for me to make new friends and connect deeply with complete strangers. Mentally, I could survive with Giulia’s and I’s combined strength for each other. I was meant to keep hiking. Still, I didn’t have the answer of what the point of completing the trail was, but if I kept hiking, maybe some day I would find that answer.

Now, here I am in Italy with Giulia after the completion of my thru-hike of the Pacific Crest Trail. The moment I stepped into the doorway of her home and saw her beauty when she walked down the stairway is undescribable. Her face lit up in shock that I was standing right on front of her. Instantly, happiness washed over her as she wrapped her arms around me repeatedly. My legs were trembling in realization that I hadn’t failed. For the first time in 7 years, our bodies physically touched and became one again. We always refer to each other as “my twin”. Twins have a special bond that they will never share with another person. It’s science and how lucky we are to be able to have found each other and experience this rare bond. Love surrounds us.I may not have the answers or reasons as to the purpose of my actions and decisions, but the world has it’s way of showing me that I am in fact following the path I am meant to be on regardless of the many spur trails I often contemplate.

As most of you know, my thru-hike of the Pacific Crest Trail was completed on September 16, 2019. Many of you have asked, “How is life post trail?” Every single time, I seem to be struggling to find the words to describe the feeling. I think I still haven’t processed my accomplishment.

Post trail, I’ve been using up the leftover time that I had set aside for the trail to explore places I’ve never been. First, I went to the large city of Vancouver,BC which was pleasant but just too much for my senses. The seafood however, was most excellent: Lobster poutine, halibut, and fresh salmon!

I quickly left the huge city a jumped onto an Amtrak train back to Washington. I took a $1 bus ride and then a ferry to the San Juan islands. I felt much more relaxed and at ease on the islands. I wasn’t fortunate to see the Orca whales, but I did continue to stuff my snout with the farm fresh food grown on the islands. Shepherds pie, braised short ribs in blackberry mole sauce, and spicy prawn soup are the standouts of my experience.

The locals on the islands were so generous to me. I suppose it’s not exactly a regular sighting to see a beautiful woman wandering around with an enormous backpack on. People at the surrounding tables at restaurants had to know about my travels and several came up to me and offered a free place to stay. In addition, often my meal was paid for before I even asked for my bill and the moment I stuck out my thumb to catch a ride the first car always stopped and picked me up. I felt like some sort of Queen. The rain was moving in though, so I left and made my way to Seattle. Only a day here and then I shall return to Ohio and put me feet to rest?

Most likely not! I have turned into some sort of trail junkie. I literally cannot stop walking. Every single day since I’ve been off the PCT, I have walked at least 8 miles or more every single day. It’s just what my body does now. While on the PCT, I met a guy named Blue suit (he wore a pair of blue scrubs for his hike) that told me he was asked if he would rather be addicted to heroin or to hiking. He told me he answered, “heroin, because at least there is a chance of overcoming the addiction.” At the time, I simply laughed at him. But now, now I am beginning to wonder if I will be able to stop walking miles and miles and let my body rest.

I should mention, Brunch is my latest favorite thing. When I was on trail with my desert tramily, every time we went into the towns we would go to the store and then make a breakfast feast. We called ourselves The Breakfast Club. Since then, I’ve begin to discover the joy of being able to have something savory and then something sweet in a setting where the menu has something for everyone to enjoy.

So how is life post trail for me?

Life simply consists of eating really good food and being unable to stop walking all while I try to begin to process what the completion of the Pacific Crest Trail means to me.

Just when I thought I was one of the toughest females around, the trail decided to give me pure misery. The clouds moved in and suddenly it was thunderstorming on me as I was trying to set up my tent. A day hiker had told me of a sweet camp spot with views of grizzly peak and Heather lake, so I wasn’t going to stop hiking until I got there. Of course when I got there, everything was totally fogged in and instead I got soaked trying to set up my tent. The next morning, the views were still fogged in. I wasn’t meant to see them.As the day progressed, the misty cold rain was falling from the clouds. At first I told myself it was cleansing, but by about hour 5 I was over it. I only wore a rain jacket so my shorts were soaked and my hands were pruney. The problem was that my hands got too cold that they sort of locked into place. When I tried to filter water or eat, my fingers just couldn’t do it. As a result, I just had to be hungry and thirsty. A solid 25 miles later in 10 hours and I was back setting up my tent. The rain had stopped just long enough for me to put it up, although it took me 3 times as long and several curse words later due to my lack of normal function of my hands.The following morning I put on my cold wet shorts, socks, and shoes and began walking. It wasn’t raining, but it was cold. Instantly, my hands went back to their locked up position. Within a couple of hours, the rain returned. I was tough though, because I had already survived one full day of rain. Certainly, I could do it again.I was getting pretty bummed though that I kept doing these steep climbs and the views were all fogged in. In addition, the trail had become an obstacle course of downed trees and steep muddy slides. However, the main issue was that I had miscalculated the number of days of food and had to ration. For hours, I was hungry and all my mind could think about was food. I can’t wait until post trail when I can cook breakfast every day…oh I’m gonna bake so many sweet treats…ah my sister’s wedding will have some sort of cake or doughnuts… I’m totally going to go to a bakery and order myself a celebratory cake post trail and make them put congratulations Shannon on it…oh I could really go for some enchiladas right now…cheese, I don’t even like it that much but I just want to take a bite of cheese…potstickers… Robin’s potsticker soup… And on and on it went for hours as my stomach roared and my energy level was low.The final miles of the day were solid uphill and the trail was certainly intimate, meaning that the plants rub up against you as you walk. It had stopped raining but it didn’t matter because the plants were wet. I was confident though, I could make it to camp and had survived another day of cold rain. Just then, the stone bruises on my feet decided to throb painfully. Every single step was as if I was walking on rocks barefoot and my toes were going numb. I took a couple huge exhales and kept walking. Eventually though, I was done. I didn’t want to go on. A tear or two fell and I just kept walking. I had no other choice. I got to the campsite and the rain fell from the sky just as I was setting up. Brutal!Today, the rain didn’t arrive until 1pm. Of course my luck, the sun shined and every single time I was about to dry out my tent, the clouds moved in and took the sun away. I finally got to see a couple of views in this glacier peak wilderness section! My mood was lifting, despite still being painfully hungry. I cranked out the miles and was all set to arrive to my campsite by 5pm. That was 2 hours earlier than most days for 25 miles a day. I was going to set up my tent and let it dry out. My shorts and socks were mostly dry so tomorrow I wouldn’t have to put on cold wet clothes. Things were looking great. So the rain decided to waft into the bowl I was hiking in and downpour on me for 20 minutes. There went my pleasant evening. UGH!I’m now less than 100 miles from the finish and still not confident I can make it. Every day, I am still forced to become tougher, but reality has it’s way of showing me who’s boss.

Just a couple of days ago, I walked up on a very traumatic situation on the trail. A fellow hiker named Colors from Germany was pinned on a bridge under a fallen snag. The EMS was already on scene and were working through the process to get him backboarded and into a litter to be carried out. The lead medic called all the shots but us fellow hikers seemed to get things moving. We grabbed the backboard straps and head blocks and got him packaged while the lead medic was monitoring his breathing and providing oxygen. We got him into the litter and then they attached the litter to a wheel. They wheeled him down the trail a couple miles to a dirt road to the ambulance. His vitals were stable when he left, but spinal injuries are severe. As it turned out, he didn’t make it into the ambulance before passing. Just like that, his life came to an end with only 421 miles left to complete his PCT journey and continuous footpath from Mexico to Canada.My heart goes out to his beloved partner who has been with him throughout his entire trek. She remained calm at the scene of the injury until the very last moment when she was forced to accept that they had to leave the trail, even if only temporarily. I hope that she finishes the trail some day because that is exactly what he would want her to do. Until then, may she be able to find joy in life as she mourns the loss of her dearest partner.For all of us hikers that got to hike alongside Colors throughout our journeys, we will cherish those moments as we carry you with us to the finish.As I sat on top of Old Snowy mountain this morning, I took in the breathtaking 360 view in front of me for a couple of hours. I had the entire summit to myself, although I believe that Colors was in the wind. The views were ever changing as the clouds and fog came and went. Here is a sample of one of the views that I dedicate to my fellow hiker, Colors:

Life has a way of pulsing us back and forth through ups and downs. One day you can be laughing and making memories with a person and then a day or two later they can be gone. It’s life’s way of giving us each a reminder that we only have one life to live. Live in the Now. If there is something you want to do, do it now. Cherish every day, every moment, every person, as if it could be your last breath.

When we have a bad experience, it’s very common for us to form an association of things that are totally separate. For example, if you fly a certain airline and your flight gets delayed and they loose your luggage, it’s very common for you to say that you are never flying with that airline again. In reality, that airline is completely fine but you created this negative association. For me, I have created a negative association with the state of Oregon and one of the main reasons I chose the Pacific Crest Trail is to attempt to disassociate the traumatic experiences I had there from the state itself.

In the summer of 2014, I visited a friend in Portland. It was my very first time in Oregon. We went to the organic brew fest and biked around the city eating at the food trucks. After a night of drinking, we layed in his bed and put the body pillow between us. However, at one point that night I woke up to his penis inside my vagina. I felt the pure pain of a penis in a vagina for the very first time and I started to punch him and fight. Instantly, he pulled out and helped put my clothes back on. What happened? Because of the alcohol, I had no recollection of how his penis ended up inside of me. Was it assult? What is the actual definition of sexual assult? Can drunken flirtyness become consent for sex? Luckily, he didn’t cum inside of me.

Exactly one year later, I was working in Eastern Oregon on a fire handcrew. After hours, some of us would go to the local bar and have some drinks while we shot pool. There was one guy around the same age as me who would always look out for me once he noticed I had had too much to drink. He would always make sure I made it home safely. However, it is standard for me to become flirty and try to kiss my friends. More than once he took me home and we were kissing and he then tried to take it straight to sex. Every time I said No. However, more than I can count, I phased back in from a blackout drunk situation with his penis inside of me. Every single time I would scream at him and attempt to fight. He was aware of my previous “sexual assult” and so while I was crying he would stay inside of me and say to me, “It’s OK Shannon it’s me and he would say his name.” He thought I was having flashbacks. Every single time I would fight him and every single time it got so bad that emotionally he had to pull out and help put my clothes back on. To my knowledge, he never came while inside of me either. But again, what is sexual assult? Who was at fault? I blamed myself just as much as I did him because I had consumed too much alcohol. I should have controlled how much I drank. As a result, I never reported it.

A couple years go by and I had lived outside of Oregon. I was ready to disassociate my “sexual assult” cases from the state of Oregon and believe that Oregon is a good state. However, I got a call from the D.C. forest service office. It was an investigator and he was interviewing me on a sexual assult case that had occured in Oregon the year prior. The supervisor of the handcrew that I was on had sexually assulted females on the crew and because I had been on that crew in the last 5 years and was female, I had to be questioned. He never assulted me in any way, but because of his case, I was unable to disassociate the label of hatred I have for Oregon.

I began to hike through Oregon with a positive mindset. I was attempting to hike all of Oregon in 14 days for a couple reasons. First of all, I didn’t want to spend a second more in that state than I had to. Also, for every day that I hiked the 32 miles to stay on track it was a solid punch to their weiners. However, I didn’t get the 14 punches. In addition, I got a yeast infection in my vaginal area and for a couple days, the pain from the infection was the exact pain that I had when the penises were inside of me as I was fighting back. Tears ran down my face as I hiked on through Oregon, mentally defeated.

In addition, while I was on trail in Oregon, I was notified that there is a sexual assult investigation occuring in the hotshot crew that I have been on for the past 3 summers. Whether it happened or not, I’m not sure but the guy lawyered up and got the case closed. He continues to work and believe it or not he got sent on a fire assignment to OREGON.

Needless to say, I was unable this time to let go of my dislike for Oregon. I simply cannot disassociate the trauma of sexual assult from that state. But what I can do is stop blaming myself for my cases and stop hiding behind the mask. I’m ready to start talking about it.

Since the very first incident, I have been extremely awkward in all romantic intimate situations. I always fear that the guy is going to go too far. Trust issues. I never allow myself to get to sex, and as a result, guys have said to me that they feel like they are in middle school when I show any form of intimacy. How do you think that makes me feel? Will I ever be able to have sex?

To this day, I still claim my virginity. Sure, I’m 30 years old, but I will be a virgin until I can feel comfortable and overcome the flashbacks of what has happened to me. Sexual assult really affects people and unfortunately for me I was a virgin and so I don’t have any previous sexual experiences to take my mind to. Do you know how awkward it is to go on a few dates with a guy and have to dive deep into conversation about sexual assult the moment we begin to fool around in the bedroom? What a mood killer!

But if you know me, you know I’m not giving up. I will be back for you, Oregon, to try again. The Oregon coast trail is in my near future. Maybe then I can disassociate the trauma. Until then, I’m ready to start talking about it. After all, Oregon has its beauty.

Whilst on a long thru-hike one meets several other hikers including day hikers, section hikers, and other thru hikers. Along the way, there are also many trail registers that one must sign in. Somewhere back in history, thru hikers started having trail names and instead of introducing themselves with their actual name, they used their trail name. Nowadays, trail names are assigned by other hikers and once you are given a trail name you eventually have to accept.

For example, a girl from Australia prepared Idahoan instant mashed potatoes. She stuck her spoon in and underestimating the consistency, the potatoes flung into her face. From that moment on, she became known as “Bib”. Another girl hiked many miles in the beginning with a head cold. She also had a swollen knee during that time. She became known as Bamboo because of how resilient she is. “Bam” for short. I met a guy who wears striped socks and a lightweight yellow hoodie and he goes by “bumblebee”. I recently met a girl who had a series of unfortunate events happen to her and she goes by “Plot Twist”. I met a guy from France who was always apologizing for his poor English and he was assigned the name “I’m sorry”. Do you get the general idea?

For me, I had several trail names before one officially stuck. At first, I was “Cruise Control” because I seemed to hike in a consistent pace no matter the terrain. That quickly changed. I then got the name “Dutch” when the group of hikers I was with realized that I was actually slower hiking downhill than I was hiking uphill. Flatlander. That name confused people when I’m from the U.S. and I was given the name Cowgirl. It was given to me because I prefer to sleep without setting up my tent which is called cowboy camping. But because I am a girl they called me “Cowgirl”. I didn’t like it. After a few days, I was given the name “Insta-cart” because I am always buying too much food and making my pack too heavy. As a result, I was always handing out food and snacks every break that we took. Funny, but who wants to be named after an App?

In an effort to lighten my pack weight, because I always have the heaviest pack of the group, fellow hikers did what is called a shake down. They made me lay out everything in my pack and then they helped me eliminate anything that was unnecessary. They didn’t eliminate much and we disagreed on one item. My trauma shears. They insisted my trauma shears are totally unnecessary and told me I could get a pocket knife that has scissors on it. I argued that my trauma shears weigh less than most knives and sent my knife home. So they told me if I didn’t get rid of my trauma shears at that moment, that I couldn’t get rid of them at all. I told them, “Deal, I’ll send you a picture of me in Canada at the end terminus with them”. I am “Trauma shears”.

More recently, my fellow hikers found another meaning to my name. When something traumatic happens to me, I just shear right through it and continue as usual. And with that, here is a photo of Trauma Shears at the halfway marker.

In the final stretch of the Sierra’s, there I was enjoying the trail more and more as the amount of snow covering the trail became less and less. I had noticed that somehow overnight my Garmin inreach became damaged. My daily messages would no longer send because the device could not detect any satellites. I made Energizer aware of that so he wouldn’t leave me miles behind in something sketchy alone. Him and Improv didn’t typically do that anyway, but if by chance they were just grooving and wanted to get miles I didn’t want them to think my SOS button was my saving grace.

Energizer’s friend from Germany just arrived and joined us so our paces were more mild. We were hiking along and slipping and sliding on the snow patches for our entertainment. It is really fun! I came down a slope and found the 3 of them standing at the bottom watching me. There was a log at the bottom of the slide and they were wondering how I would tackle the situation. I walked side hill until I could just step over the log. Improv gave commentary to the other boys, “Cautious Creature”, he said. I didn’t give them any sort of performance and we hiked on.

Later we were in another area of downhill snow gliding and I was keeping up with them for the most part. I was still taking the more cautious routes than them at times, but still gliding a lot. I watched the 3 of them all glide down the snow and walk onto a dirt path between 2 trees. I followed suit. However, I didn’t make it through the path between the 2 trees. Out of nowhere, waist height barbed wire snatched me and flung me into the air. Before I could realize what was happening, I face planted right into a rock. My face went numb. Instantly, I started to shriek but I couldn’t say any words. I was trying to call out help but my mouth was numb. So instead, I tried to shriek louder so that the boys ahead could hear and come to me.

Meanwhile, the boys just barely ahead, heard the sound and spent a solid 20 seconds or more wondering what it was. Energizer’s friend asked them when he heard the sound, “What kind of animal is that?” Improv said, “I think that’s a Shannon!” They all thought I was laughing and enjoying the snow gliding. But when the sound didn’t stop and they realized the glide wasn’t very long, they stopped. While they were still trying to figure out what it was, Energizer saw me back laying on the ground. He ran back to me and found me rolling on the ground holding my face covered in blood. Calmly, he said, “Oh my God!”. Because he was calm, I remained calm.

The other boys came back also and discovered the barbed wire that none of them saw or even were affected by. They grabbed all of their first aid supplies and together Energizer and Improv cleaned up my face. Another hiker that was going southbound also ran back with his first aid supplies, when he heard the sound. Together, they closed down the piece of trail with the barbed wire and put heavy logs over the wire. Improv and Energizer comforted me after they cleaned me up. It looked a lot worse than it was. I just had a few scrapes all over my face. However for me, I had an instant headache and my nose and upper lip were numb. Ouch!

Within 20 minutes, I was good enough to keep hiking. The headache and the numbness of my face took the entire next 24 hours to go away but that didn’t affect my legs. Haha! I did take the uphills at a slower pace to keep good oxygen flow to my brain. The boys constantly checked in on me and made sure I wasn’t crazy in shock or have a concussion.

I definitely got rocked and rolled. The Sierra’s certainly have not been an easy feet, and no matter how cautious one is, anything can happen!

On that note, does anyone else think or notice that these types of things always happen to the females? You don’t really hear about males getting evacuated from the trail from injuries or dieing from not surviving a stream crossing. But what’s a statistic anyway?

Up to this point along the trail, each of us has had something just not go the way that we would’ve liked. However, the heavy snow year of the Sierra’s has been a constant evaluation of each of ourselves.

The snow dramatically slowed down our pace to sometimes only 1 mile each hour. Because of this, we had to pack in much more food which really made our packs heavy. But the real problem was that we consumed more food than usual because each mile was so tough, and we ran out of food.

Improv had the first breaking point when his entire pack tumbled down a snowbank right into a lake. By the time he got to it, everything was completely soaked. He’s Improv, so he didn’t have dry bags. He just had trash bags which didn’t keep the water out. So we immediately set up camp and built a campfire to dry his stuff as the sun was going down. It was above 10,000ft which meant campfires were prohibited, but emergency called. As a result of this incident, he was carrying a phone, iPod, stove, and sleeping pad that were broken until he could dispose of them in the next town.

On that exact night, I opened up my pack to find that my entire bottle of olive oil had opened and poured all over. What was happening to us?

The following morning mid freezing river crossing, Improv’s side pocket of his backpack decided to break. Luckily he didn’t loose anything. Once across the stream he threw his trekking poles and plopped down in frustration. Energizer heated some water for coffee and also put a hot sock over Improv’s freezing feet. All was better as the scenery of the next miles revitalized the three of us.

We climbed up the snow at a mile an hour pace to Pinchot Pass. I was ahead of the boys and gave my best effort to reach the top before them. However, with the final half mile to go, they passed me. Coming down from the pass, I was constantly postholing one leg where my heavy pack left me sideways turtled up. Every time, I had to take off my pack and use my upper body to pull myself out. My stabilizer muscles were exhausted. I began to cry out of frustration at my body. I knew that if my muscles were not as tired that I wouldn’t be falling. The boys were cruising, why couldn’t I? As a result of my breakdowns, I had multiple breaks that allowed me to acknowledge the frozen lakes just 100 ft to my left. The boys were just ahead calling out my name and when I responded, they hiked back to me. They witness some tears but told me that I am the toughest female that they know and that I should be proud of accomplishing these passes in such a heavy snow. We shared a snack and hugs and all was better again.

The next morning Energizer realized that he had lost his sunglasses. With the sun reflecting of off the snow, I was certain he would get snow blindness. He put his buff over his eyes at times and never took off his sun hat, but the sun was still too powerful. My sunglasses are prescription, but Improv was able to trade off and on with Energizer in an attempt to prevent snow blindness.

The hike up to Mather pass was my favorite moment in the Sierra’s so far. First, we had to choose which path to take to avoid avalanche danger. The path we had to take started with what I call a steep snow stairway to heaven. At the top of the stairway was a rock scree that we had to climb to the next snow path.

Eventually we had to side slope across to the one switchback we could see and Energizer had to kick in the steps with his feet and ice axe. Many times throughout the accent, we looked down at the steep slope we were standing on. If you are afraid of heights, you wouldn’t have been able to reach the pass. The final stretch to the top was another steep snow stairway. At the top, a marmot greeted us. Conquering that pass with several fearful moments of not knowing if I would be able to rock climb along the ledge or safely cross the snow without a huge slide down the slope are the moments that make us!

The trail down from Mather was a water park! The waterfalls were powerful and running down the switchbacks. Every step gave me the joy of making a big splash.

At camp, I accidentally stepped onto my trekking pole and just like that: it broke. I couldn’t do anything other than laugh.

When we took a side trail to acquire more food, we heard there was an alternative trail leading to natural hotsprings and a huge waterfall. We decided to take it down into a valley a dodge some of the snow for a change of pace. No other hikers were taking the alternative trail, so it was pleasant to not see anyone. We got to the first river crossing and the current was strong. We tried the group tactic but the boys had their shoes off and had to break apart for there own stability. This left me alone in the current and I couldn’t move. I lifted a leg to take a step and the current flew it behind me. I put all my strength to my trekking poles and tried to get my foot planted again. I took a total of 3 steps before both the boys came back into the water with shoes on to break the current and spot me. We made it across!

We hiked further and came to another stronger river crossing. The boys went in without packs to determine if we could do it. They didn’t like it. They looked up and downstream for a better way and there wasn’t one. I had more confidence in my abilities the second time so we gave it a go packless.

I stripped down to my underwear to eliminate any drag that could pull me down. With Improv helping stabilize me, we made it past the first tough current into the slower shallow middle. Energizer was already head on with the final current and he couldn’t move. He had fear in his eyes and his trekking poles were trembling in the current. He called the mission off and deemed it too unsafe. As we went back to the side we started, my confidence dwindled. My muscles were using every bit of force to keep myself stable. Improv was spotting behind me and assisting my movements. Energizer was calling out to me,”Shannon, you can do this! Another step!” I made it another step and then when I tried to move another my muscles gave in. My body fell forward onto my trekking poles and my legs collapsed beneath me. Improv tried to hold me up and keep himself stable. Within a second, Energizer was in the water pulling me out. He saw my collapse and was fearful I became hypothermic. We all made it back to safety and built a campfire. We pushed it as far as we could go and not another step further. It’s important in life to know where the limit line is and to not cross it no matter how close you get. We were 2 miles short of the hotsprings and had to turn back. No regrets.

The Sierra’s continue to present us with new challenges, however they have brought us closer to each other. In the end, all these hardships are simply a self reflection of ourselves.

There I was coming down from Kearsage Pass to the Onion Valley campground where I had to hitchhike 13 miles down into the small town of Independence. From there, I would have to hitch 40 miles up to Bishop to resupply. As I was hiking down, I was anticipating the tasty food that I would soon get to enjoy. I came around a switchback and there I saw a group of hikers all with paperwork in their hands. The hiker behind me, Dr. Dre, she asked, “Is it permit time?” It clicked. I had to show my permit to a ranger for the first time.

The ranger asked a couple of questions as she examined our permits and wrote down our permit numbers and names. The first question she asked was what date did we start. I didn’t start on my permit date so I was torn on what date I should tell her. my permit start date was May 14 but I actually started on May 2nd. Every other hiker in that group had started on their actual permit date and got cleared from the ranger right away. I debated while she checked their permits and when she got to me and asked me when I started I couldn’t lie. I said May 2nd. Immediately she confiscated my permit and told me I could not longer travel on that permit. I was devastated. She explained the importance of the permit system and how it spaces the hikers out so that the resources of the area don’t get destroyed. I totally understood that but some hikers that started on May 14th had definitely already made it down Kearsage pass. So what was the difference? I couldn’t help that I was on a wildfire out of cell reception when the permit system opened up and was therefore unable to try to obtain a May 2nd permit before they ran out. Obviously I didn’t mention that to the ranger.

Instead, I asked her if we could make a deal. Since I didn’t lie to her, I asked her if she could just write that I started on May 14th and give me my permit. She didn’t like that and said to me, “You are lucky I don’t give you a fine!” Frustrated, I did my best to remain calm as she gave me the proper instructions to obtain proper permits from here to Canada.

As I hiked down the final 10 switchbacks or so, a couple of tears fell from my eyes. I was honest with her and because of it I now had to undergo complications. How irritating!

Since then, I obtained a new temporary permit to hike from Kearsage pass to Sonora pass on the PCT and have also applied for a new long distance hiking permit from the PCTA organization to hike from Sonora pass to Canada. Hopefully, I have done everything correctly this time. As a precaution, I also reprinted out my old permit that the ranger confiscated and should I get approached again and use that permit, I will just have to tell the lie that I started on May 14th. Only time will tell what will happen.

I climbed higher and higher until I met Improv and Energizer at Chicken Spring Lake where they had survived a hail storm waiting for me to meet back up with them. Originally we made a plan to slow roll to the ranger station at the base of Whitney 15 miles away. However, after hiking up 3.8 miles to meet them, Energizer said to me with demon eyes, “fifteen more miles today.” My reply was, “we will see”. The plan had changed and now Energizer was insistent on hiking the 15 miles that day to then sleep an hour or two before hiking the 18 miles round-trip to the summit of Mt. Whitney for sunrise. He was CRAZY!

As we hiked along, the views were incredibly stunning and the air was quite refreshing. As I was taking it in, I said to them that life couldn’t get any better. I totally got absorbed and forgot to eat or even collect the snow melt water to quench my thirst.

Around 5:30pm we all met up at a river crossing. Improv and I had talked about not rushing and convincing Energizer to slow down and just take it all in. If we rushed to the base of Whitney we would be too exhausted to truly enjoy it. But before I could get a word in, Energizer said he was summiting Whitney tomorrow for sunrise no matter what. A tear fell from my eye. They waited for me so we could summit Whitney together and now Energizer was dictating our actions. I asked him why and he said he has been sitting around waiting too much and his desire to hike miles is strong. In other words, his desire to hike miles overpowered his care for my safety. I was furious! My original friend of the PCT had left me with no other option but to hike the final 7 miles and not have any sleep before summiting Whitney for sunrise. I cried. What was the point in them waiting for me if they were just going to summit without me if I didn’t want to summit that day? I had a surprise in my backpack for the 3 of us on the summit and they both knew it, but Energizer was adamant he was summiting tomorrow regardless of me. Pissed, I became nauseous and stormed off up the trail uphill as the tears ran down my face.

Energizer caught up with me about halfway up the hill, and looked at me with a sincere look on his face. He pulled me in close and wrapped his arms around me. He apologized for coming across in such a harsh way and told me that hiking in a group forces everyone to make compromises. Ideally each person would make an equal amount of compromises, but it may not seem that way. In addition, he told me he changed the plan from the original because he has witnessed how tough I am and knows I can in fact hike 19 miles and then have a short sleep and hike another 18 miles. I felt a little bit better but I was so MAD that he was getting his way. I had a couple more break downs with tears streaming when I lost the trail on the way to the ranger station. Total irritation!

We slept for one hour and a half and then we moonlight hiked Mt. Whitney. About 3 miles into the hike we came to the mountains reflecting on the water. It was that moment that I let it all go. I was officially happy to be hiking Mt. Whitney with both Improv and Energizer and creating a memory of a night that I will never forget. As we hiked on, the moonlight bounced off of all of the mountains and the views got better and better. Bliss!

We didn’t reach the summit for sunrise but luckily there were a couple of viewpoints prior to the summit where we were able to catch a glimpse of sunrise. We summited and I can honestly say the summit was my least favorite part. I was so exhausted by then and in my opinion the views were far more stunning before the summit. The moment I pulled out an entire chocolate cake and a personal sparkling wine for each of them, their faces lit up with huge smiles! It brought me so much joy to watch them absolutely love the surprise I had hauled in for us!

Exhausted, we hiked our way down. We took several breaks to give us every last bit of energy our bodies had left. Even the Energizer realized that we should have indeed stuck to our original plan to prevent such exhaustion, although he would never admit it.

So I had hit my all time low on the trail as I was furious with my original friend: the Energizer. How could he be so ignorant of my safety? But with lows the highs become even higher and in this case we summited the highest point in the lower 48! We learned and grew from our experience and now the three of us enjoy the paradise of the Sierra’s with smiles and joy in the company of each other.