Written by John Swart – We’re picking back up on John’s adventures hiking the Pacific Crest Trail. – From June 2014 –

Striking Scenic Gold in the Sierras.

June 6, 2014

Hello from Bishop, California.

At last report I had just entered the mighty Sierras and have now had over a week of hiking through some very stunning terrain—quite a contrast to the Southern California desert zone. The Sierras are replete with evergreen forest; clear, refreshing creeks and streams; large, open green meadows; and dramatic, towering peaks.

Three days ago I did a very grueling side trail to the top of Mount Whitney, the highest point in the continental U.S. at 14,500 feet. The following day I crossed Forester Pass at 13,200 feet, the highest point on the Pacific Crest Trail. So I’ve had some peak (ha!) experiences in the last days, not to mention some very exhausting physical challenges.

The exhaustion factor is why I’m in town for much needed R&R. Interestingly, Bishop is in the very hot, high desert at the foot of Mount Whitney, and it’s also a valley away from Death Valley, the lowest point in the U.S. Gotta love the contrast (or hate it, if you choose).

I will ascend back to the heights of the Sierras today when the high 90-degree temps cool down. The next trail section ends at Mammoth Lakes, California, 117 miles up the trail. I hope to be there in seven days.

The trail at this point runs in conjunction with the John Muir Trail, reputed to be one of the most scenic in the country, which I cannot refute thus far. There will be some very challenging terrain, including several high, snowy passes to navigate in the coming days. However, the rewards will assuredly be worth the effort if the terrain is anything close to what I have seen so far.

I have been hiking alone and seeing very few folks which allows for total immersion in the comforting embrace of the forest. Life seems to have such exquisite order and balance in the wild. Death and decay create and foster new growth, and life unfolds in a beautiful, natural fashion.

With this wonderful backdrop I continue to practice with my life issues, ever coming back to the present moment and just this step. I often stop for beauty/conscious breath breaks that help ground me in the here and now. I watch the mind as it spins its tales (too often of woe) and come back to this perfect moment. It always works. How about that?

Coming into town brings up other issues of fear and insecurity that provide more wonderful opportunities to grow. I am totally dependent on the generosity of others for transportation and other assistance. This dependence is something I’m not used to and can bring up fears that I will not be taken care of.

So far, when I trust and let life live me in its intended way, everything has worked out wonderfully.

I also bring big fears of financial insecurity out of the woods with me. Last night I planned to return to the trail, but I realized I really needed a good rest. So I bit the bullet and got a hotel room.

Getting a hotel room turned out to be a wonderful exercise in kindness and compassion to myself. If I am hiking for kindness and compassion, I have to be at the top of the list and extend those gifts to myself as well (as I have been taught and have learned from experience). When I remember to be kind to myself, I inevitably have plenty of kindness and compassion available for others. Funny how that works, huh?

Another difficulty I sometimes have in coming in off the trail is the transition between wilderness and society. I feel there is a general imbalance in society as compared to the natural balance I experience in the woods. On some levels people seem out of harmony with the natural order. This makes me rather sad and brings up questions about how some (including myself) are leading this very precious life they have been given. Anyway, things to ponder (or not).

So merrily (for the time being) I roll along. I figure much more will be revealed and will unfold as the days pass. I feel so blessed to have this experience and the honor to be hiking for all the wonderful organizations I am representing for all you very generous folks. I’m so very gratified and encouraged by your interest and comments. As I said earlier, I’m sorry I don’t have time to respond to them all.

May all your moments be filled with the joy and wonder of being.

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Beauty and the Beasts

June 17, 2014

Here I am in very cool Mammoth, California, home to one of the largest ski mountains in the country (I am told), taking a much needed respite after a rather grueling week or so of trail.

The scenery through the most recent stretch of the Sierras has been breathtakingly gorgeous, and it takes my breath away literally as well. All the beauty has come at a steep (measured in feet) price in the form of very rigorous high passes over which I must cross.

In addition to the rigor of the ascent is the treachery of a melting snow cover that can collapse at any moment without warning. The collapse, called “postholing,” lands you in the sharp rocks below or in icy streams. The result is wet, frigid feet and scraped, bloody legs.

The mountain passes have ranged in heights up to 12,000 feet and often involve six-mile uphill ascents. I’ve been averaging one or two passes per day. Muir Pass was the worst and extracted quite a few unsavory words from my mouth.

On the other hand, the scenery has been indescribably spectacular. My progress through this section has been slowed not only by the terrain but also by multiple “beauty stops” along the way. The trail has passed through towering, wonderfully fragrant sequoia (and other evergreen) forests as well as tranquil meadowland, all of which invokes a sense of peace and serenity.

I have experienced highs and lows that are consistent with the environment. Sleep difficulties, followed by very hard physical days, along with healthy doses of mosquitoes, can rub hard on the old nerves at times.

Overall, however, the experience has been magical and profoundly transformative. Being immersed in such beauty makes an indelible imprint on one’s being. My practice of grounding myself in this present moment continues (as it will to Canada, I suspect) and fluctuates on a consistent basis.

There has been a total 180 in the hydrological conditions (i.e. presence of water). We have gone from parched desert to soaked crossings of multiple streams, creeks, and rivers. I frequently get quite soggy and chilled in the icy flows. The moving water is quite beautiful, however, in its power and force.

There has also been a dramatic increase in the wildlife. I’ve encountered many groups of grazing deer, as well as lots of marmots, chipmunks, and other little creatures. I’m told there are big creatures nearabouts too, although they haven’t yet introduced themselves.

I have also been enjoying my encounters with other hikers. The sense of community is powerful, and it grows as we collectively move along and share in this very intense journey (both inward and outward).

It’s remarkable to see the similarities in our emotional, mental, and spiritual states as they arise and pass over time—in spite of our very diverse ages and backgrounds. We gather in towns and major stopping points along the way where we fall into a very comfortable ease with one another. We share a reciprocal care and concern for one another (hard to put into words, I guess).

Additionally, there is an outpouring of kindness, generosity, and support from the folks in the communities where we stop to resupply and rest. Their support is very touching, and it makes me suspect that the true nature of our species is kindness and generosity (a pretty good deal, really).

I passed the 900-mile mark just before Mammoth and am a scant 36 miles from Yosemite, so the show is moving along. My sense of urgency that arises about getting up the trail is taking a very noticeable shift. I’m able lately to relax into the present and allow a much more natural flow. I’m allowing life and the trail to live me in the intended way (if that makes any sense).

My little, inner dictator, for example, may feel I need to get in a certain number of miles or that I should hold off on a break. But my body/innate intelligence tells me otherwise, and a struggle can ensue. Well, I am now honoring the latter with wonderful results. It’s all part of the deep teachings of the trail.

So, I have to admit that things are progressing very nicely. As I have said before, the perfection of harmonious life in the forest provides the perfect setting to learn the deep essence of being in this world. This lesson comes through hardship (as in bitterly cold creek dunkings) and through bliss (as in the sight, sounds, and aromas of the forest). (Personally, I’ll take the bliss).

I must now take care of the mundane task of buying supplies to prepare myself for the re-entrance into my cathedral tomorrow morning.

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A Thousand Miles and Many Smiles.

June 25, 2014

Greetings, all, from Bridgeport, California! I jumped off the trail 23 miles from this charming, friendly little burg (population 900) to resupply and recharge.

I’m sharing a room with a few Israeli hiker friends in an historic old hotel, the Bridgeport Inn. The Inn comes with a genuine ghost: a bride who hung herself after her intended was robbed and killed just before their wedding day (or so the story goes). I passed on spending the night in that room because I needed sleep.

Anyway, back to the matter at hand. The last section of trail, since leaving Mammoth, continued to wend its way northward through the back country to Tuolumne Meadows (gotta love that moniker,huh?) and above the Yosemite valley. Tuolumne, with its big, open meadows, bordered by towering rock formations and bisected by clear snow-melt gorged streams, was a sight to behold.

After catching up with hiker friends at a store there and gorging at the local grill, I continued on the Yosemite North Rim trail (named the most difficult section of the trail by one guide book). For the following three days (76 miles), it was a roller coaster of steep climbs and descents through valleys and over passes. All of which were accompanied by swarms of pesky snow-melt mosquitoes.

Of course, this roller coaster was against a backdrop of incredibly beautiful scenery: dramatically chiseled rock formations; stately, serene forests; expansive, green meadows; azure blue lakes; and rushing water aplenty. The crowning jewel was the last 28-mile section which left Yosemite and climbed to 10,700 feet through the Emigrant Wilderness, with spectacular views for miles.

My practice of staying grounded in the present continues and deepens, I’m happy to report. I immerse myself in the sights, in the fragrant aroma of the evergreens, in the songs of birds, in the waters flowing by, and in the wind murmuring amongst the trees. It fills me up whenever the mind has not lost itself in past ruminations or projections into the unknowable future. “Just this” continues to be my mantra.

Physically, also, I’m feeling much stronger and more capable. I feel this is a function of my more relaxed attitude about the hike, as well as my redoubled commitment to a good nutritional regimen.

I am consistently imbibing the HealthForce SuperFood powder (totally awesome stuff, gang), along with hemp seeds. I follow a good plant-based diet (as best I can on the trail) when in the woods.

So that sense of urgency about achieving high mileage days or about “being somewhere” (other than right here) is falling away as time and miles go on. And, with this approach, the miles come and go much more easily and joyfully.

I was talking to Suzanne “Szechuan” Hahn (my incredible web design lady) today and was relating my wonderful experience with other hikers and folks I’m encountering in towns. The kindness and generosity has been profound.

It seems as I move beyond my fears and approach others in an open spirit of kindness, it touches that same place in them, and then we relate in a very genuine manner. Kathy, the lady who owns the hotel where I’m staying (the Bridgeport Inn), was remarking earlier what a difference it would make if the whole world could function in this spirit of kindness.

So I recited to Kathy one of my favorite lines from a song—the song “Hands” by Jewel: “In the end, only kindness matters.” Very simple but extremely powerful. Is that not what all religions at their essence point toward?

I also continue to be very gratified by the interest in my journey and the outpouring of kindness and generosity with all the pledges and encouragement from all of you. I feel your presence as I walk through the noble silence of the forest.

So the adventure continues. I am now at mile 1018. I will get back on trail today, heading next for Lake Tahoe and maybe the buffets of the Reno casinos. Hope to report from Tahoe in three to four days.

 

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“I have a penchant for immersion in other cultures and spiritual practices. I consider the forest to be my cathedral where I experience my most intimate communion with my personal divine.”

John Swart has recently spent four months in a yoga Ashram in Virginia, and has embarked on his next adventure which includes travels in Europe and Asia. He will be writing an accompanying blog throughout his travels.

Also while travelling, John plans to work on a book based on his experiences hiking the Pacific Crest Trail, which will greatly expand on his existing blog content.

In October of 2014, John completed the 2,650 mile Pacific Crest Trail. For him, a phenomenal journey that, “… confirms my growing awareness that the essence of human nature is kindness and generosity. I feel I have greatly deepened my own cultivation of these qualities as a consequence of the many examples I have experienced along the trail. My heart opens wider.”