Day 20 04/05 Idyllwild

We decided to take a zero (zero mileage or rest day) to finish all of the things we had to get done like going to the post office and buying the rest of our food for the seven day trek to Big Bear.
The last week from mile 77-176 from Julian to Idyllwild had been the longest stretch between civilization yet. It was exhilarating. I felt like I had made a transformation. I had entered a new domain of hiking and of outdoorsmanship- and especially of frame of mind.
I was getting my systems down.
Everything now had its place in my pack. I went from taking my sweet time in the morning and poking my head out of the bag ten times wishing the sun would stay down to being up every morning WITH the sun right after 6 a.m.
I now wake and don't think.
I just pack.
I went from being on the trail at 9 to being ready to walk before 7.
The first week or so I would wake up in my tent and for half a second I would be surprised to be there. I almost expected to wake up in my bed in my apartment or be somewhere else familiar. Opening your eyes to the roof of the tent was an instant reminder that I would be hiking all day, every day.
Between Julian and Idyllwild things completely changed. It really hit me that I was out here, that I was no longer planning, or prepping, or introducing the idea to people and getting crazy looks.
This was real.
There was no more driving to work, dealing with crazy customers. No more traffic, no more coming back at the end of the day to my place in the city.
I wasn't home anymore.
The trail had become my home.
I no longer felt even a tiny bit sorry for myself when I woke. I became grateful to wake up in that tent.
I learned to shut down any and all emotion on a hard day. That when you think you're at your breaking point and your body's gonna give out you still have ten more miles left in you. When you're sinking to your knees in the snow with every step and collapsing from pure exhaustion every 100 yards and you just don't wanna get up, YOU GET UP.
NO ONE is gonna come pick you up and give you a happy meal.
So you crush those little thoughts of "oohh poor me" and you suck it up and you move forward. There's absolutely no room for self pity when self reliance and motivation are your bread and butter.
I felt myself changing and adapting to my new environment. Every day that would go by I was more at home. I began to truly embrace the trail- a place where each day I wake up somewhere different and never look back.
I no longer felt like a visitor. I was now completely comfortable in this grand wilderness I felt part of.
During my stay I visited Nomad Ventures, the climbing shop in Idyllwild. This place is seriously awesome and they have excellent selection. They blow away most outdoors shops and their prices are competitive with the larger chains. The girl Breanne that was working there was extremely knowledgable and helped me select my trekking poles, as I finally made the decision to get some. Me, I've always been a hiking stick kind of guy, I find a stick and carve it up and get a new one when I need it. However I had 22 miles of rocky downhill ahead after a huge ascent to fuller ridge-and I can't argue with them taking strain off my knees over 2600 miles. So I bought them along with waterproof gloves, stove fuel and new shoe inserts- my feet were callousing up but the internal support in my boots was beginning to break down.
Life was just a little slower in Idyllwild, and everyone in town was very nice and went out of their way to accommodate hikers. There are plenty of restaurants, and they're all great. I loved how the locals all knew each other and how the ladies working at the post office cracked jokes on everyone that came in. It's a really nice town to visit.

That night I laid out 7 days of food (+1 for emergency) on the table and was amazed that I would eat all of it.
We studied the week's maps by the fireplace, embracing the warmth of the crackling logs.
I tried to sleep but couldn't. I had too much to think about. I'd been out for two and a half weeks and it felt like months. All of the experiences I'd had already drowned out the last few years of life in the city. It was almost too much to comprehend.
Early the next morning we would begin the ascent to Fuller Ridge, known for being dangerous this early in the season. Despite all the warnings from people who said "you won't make it, it's too earl, it's too hard with this much snow, etc..."
We had our minds made up. We weren't taking the safe road walk detour around the big bad ridge.
The way I viewed it, this was just another part of this two thousand mile crucible, another test of will.

Come hell or high water, we were going up and over.