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a witch hikes the PCT in 2017 & this is her story

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Witch Wandering

  • PCT Blog
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  • OCT '16
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Day 17 // Feeling Other & Big Bear

May 29, 2017 Pitch
Morning face. 

Morning face. 

10.4 miles

In the night I jolt awake to the sound of a series of chirp like screams. Immediately I know that it is not a bird or frog like creature, but a mammal with fangs and claws. It's a cougar. The chirp moves through the woods, from north to south.

Chiirrup! Chiirrup! Chiirrup! Chiirrup! Chiirrup! 

I lay wide awake and shockingly not very afraid. I know it won't mess with us in camp and soon I go back to sleep. 

Light begins to creep in and I'm up and moving about. It's a town day and I'm excited for not trails foods and a shower, oh a shower! And getting my resupply box full of good foods and putting my feet up and washing my hair. 

Soon, I'm on trail and hiking fast, fast, fast. It's a perfectly cool morning in the forest. I fall behind Pedia, Cowboy and Pitstop. Pitstop gives us a play by play of a movie called Sunshine. It's sort of like watching a movie on trail, but with hiker words instead. Then we play a game of naming an actor and then trying to name films they've been in. Whoever last the longest wins. I have a hard time of it since I don't watch too much TV. I name things from a slightly older time, since I'm 6-8 years older than them. The games turns to Disney TV only movies and I fall completely out of the game. Soon the conversation turns to highschool, band, college and what clubs they participated in. I feel so exasperated by it. For whatever reason, it strikes a nerve and I slow my pace to drop back. Why is this so irritating for me? What gives? I poke at my period tracker on my phone. I'm 4 days away and definitely PMSing. 

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I gotta figure that out. Is it the age gap? The experience differential? The feeling of being left out? The desire for community I seem to be having a hard time of finding? Or is it just that I am totally out of my little weirdo Portland bubble of herbalism and queer witch folk and I need to adjust? Am I just an overly sensitive bitch? I don't even know.

Where the fuck even are the queers out here?

I'm a little homesick I think. I miss my old friends, Team No Trust.

We all reach the road. On each side is a turn out for cars to park and folks to reach the trail head. We gotta do a little hitch. For some reason, Skippy, Cowboy, Pedia and Pitstop all gather at the far end of the turn out, not a good place for an on coming car to see them and stop. They're looking up trail angels for a ride. I walk to the front of the turn out and put my thumb out. I get us a ride in less than 5 minutes.

When we load into the car, they're very loud in the back while I try to make polite conversation with the man who picked us up. I can't really hear him. My irritation grows. I kind of want to tell everyone to shut the fuck up for 5 seconds so I can tell him thanks for picking up four smelly hikers and ask how his day is going. 

He drops us off by the hostel, which is closed for a special event and I'm going to figure out how to get my box from them later.

We walk our way to a breakfast spot called Grizzly Manor. It's clearly a place for locals and visitors alike. The walls are covered in stickers from ceiling to floor and our server sasses us with her Amy Winehouse style eyeliner. We each order a breakfast burrito and it's the best breakfast burrito I have ever had in my life. I devour it in minutes. Pitstop and I split a waffle with strawberries and whipped cream and it's gone in less than 2 minutes. My mood, is much improved now.

Was I just hangry?

Two other tables of hikers are near by, they dump their leftovers on us and we eat all of that too. Bruce, the guy I hitched with a few days ago shows up shortly after we finish. He tells us how alone he was, and that he thought we were ahead of him but we were behind him by several hours the whole time. He's a cousin of Pitstop. 

We all agree to get a hotel together. I debate getting my own room, because I am socially tapped out. I do some calling around. Black Forest Lodge is just across the street from us so we go to check that out. It's only $22 a head for the 5 of us, a price I can't say no to. Three beds, a kitchen, living room and shower! The old blonde German lady at the front desk puts us in a chalet called Lidas Haus. The whole hotel has a dark German theme to it. It's a little run down and cute. 

We open the door and it's huge. Our stink fills the room and we leave our shoes outside. We explore the rooms and kneed the carpet with our feet like cats. We do a lottery on who gets the shower in what order and I get first! 

Banana texts me. He just hitched into town with a sore foot. 

"Come to our chalet," I text him back.  

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I melt under the heat and soap. I stain a small wash cloth grey as I scrub my body, the dirt seems to be never ending. I come out feeling new. We pile up our laundry and wash it all together. One by one we get clean and then Bananas is at the door.

Peida and I decide to find an Uber to the grocery store as it's cheap and we don't feel like walking at all. I buy salad greens, tomatoes, shredded carrots, avocado, blue cheese dressing and a roast chicken along with some good Northwest hoppy beer. I also grab some lotion, my skin is so very dry. I eye a few things for a resupply, which I think I'll buy tomorrow. I am undecided if I want to take a full zero day (a day of rest and no hiking). But I lean towards it.

When I get back it's just Bananas and I and it's finally quiet. I assemble a huge salad and I complain to him for a little bit about feeling strange around the others. About the schooling and experience differential. Bananas and I have been hiking on and off together since day one and he, along with my other friends who are scattered to the wind right now are the ones I feel OK around. Or at least understood and not weird and strange.

"You've got a chip on your shoulder, you know that right?" He posits.

"I do, I know." I admit. It's absolutely true. And I've got plenty of miles to work it out and understand it. But right now, I have a salad of my dreams to eat and so I do. I wonder about my resupply box and how I'm going to get it from the closed hostel. I called a few days ahead and was told I could call at any time to get my box, but no one has been picking up. I'm stressing about it. I have a lot of food in there I need.

Eventually, everyone comes back and another hiker shows up. There's seven of us crammed inside. They turn the TV on and it gets loud and hectic and it rattles my nerves.

I decide to walk to the hostel to see if I can't get my box. Bananas comes with me for support. After calling several times, I finally get an answer and the hostel guy is on his way. We wait on the porch and dig through the hiker box. I find a few amazing treasures while I wait. A camo bug headnet! A zlite sit pad, that for the weight, I decide to try it out and if I like it I'll keep it. A few tampons, since lady time is fast approaching and some high end Bumble and Bumble shampoo and conditioner packets. Just then, the hostel owner shows up. I flash him my ID and my box is in my hands. 

All is right in the world. We head back to the hotel, where the TV blares and I sort my food. I slip in and out of an introversion extroversion hole. I need some time alone, my psyche needs it. Is this my problem, or am I in a herd of hikers? How do I mitigate the need for humans and alone? Will this be my eternal PCT quest?

Bruce and Pitstop tells us horror stories of working at a skiing resort and the associated deaths. I sip my beer and listen with despair of words involving "compound fractures" and "decapitated" "pelvis shattered" ... then it veers into an interesting in depth drama of NASCAR for an hour and a half.

Where am I even? What is this life? 

I seek out my ear plugs and crawl into one of the beds in the loft. I can hear the muffled voices through the foam in my ears. I just want to be alone, quiet. Silence. Rest. Eventually, I am lulled into sleep.

In PCT
← Day 18 // A Big Bear ZeroDay 16 // A Regular Day of Hiking →
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Thank you!
Soft fawn lilies, among the thorns and poison oak, like stars on the land all around me.
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At times, I forget where I live. I forget the goodness I have.
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This retrograde, in my own natal sign of Aries has been a doozy for me. From computer fixes, to my car needing $2k in work, to feeling stretched very thin... it's been very challenging. But also lessons in survival, lessons in recognition of what privileges I have, lessons in what to protect, lessons in when and where not to give.
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As Mercury seemingly glides backwards, so do I. Words are hard to make. I move with a slowness I never thought possible for myself. And while the mishaps and frustrations have been very grating, I surrender to this strange energetic current.
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Boundary has been my word this retrograde cycle. Throw the salt around your home, stand your ground to those who would encroach on your sanctuary, be firm with pushy bullying spirits. Appreciate those plants that burn, sting and pierce. Don't curse them! They only teach through example...
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#witch #plantwitch #fawnlily #wildflower #lily #spring #aries #retrograde #mercury #lessonslearned #boundries #witchesofinstagram #plantspirit #plantspiritmedicine #poisonoak #cultivatingsoftness #staysoft #butfierce #ariesseason #witchesofthenorthwest
I'm breaking my regular posting radio silence to say hello! and reintroduce myself in a way. I've gained and lost quite a few followers, so I wanted to say hey to those who may not quite understand who/what I'm about!
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• My name is Britton, or sometimes I go by Pitch. A name I acquired while hiking the Pacific Crest Trail in 2017. It's about pines, if you're wondering.
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• I'm a witch person. What does that mean? I means very simply that I live in liminal spaces, communicate and ally with the unseen: Spirit, ancestors, trees, plants, rivers, dirt, birds are my guides. I'm an animist and seeker of understanding the strange mysteries of our world.
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• I make a living through making perfume, slow plant medicine and reading tarot (link in bio if you're curious).
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• Herbalism is a big passion of mine. Plants teach us, heal us. And not just our physical bodies, but our spirits.
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• While I've been living in Oregon for 10 years now, I am originally from Georgia. I have and keep a few inflections in my accent from my time growing up in and around the south. Swamps and trailer parks y'all.
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• My sun and moon are in Aries and I'm Aquarius rising. I still battle with my aloof Aquarian nature 🤷🏻‍♀️
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• My education stopped at the 4th grade. I'm a homeschooled, uneducated weirdo.
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• Some folks say I'm intimidating, but really I'm just a giant friendly goof who likes memes about doggos. And I say HECK a lot.
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• I got ADD! And it's reeeaaal difficult to deal with sometimes, but I handle it by creating structures and being patient with myself.
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• I can be very quiet, until I'm not.
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• I turn 33 in just 19 days! 😱
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• I'm the oldest of 6 heckin kids!
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• I'm really into divination through cards and bones (maybe you noticed? 😅). I've been studying and using the tarot for 10 years now. It's cheaper than therapy and it'll whoop your ass into shape.
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That is my brief self summary 👋
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Who are YOU? Where did you come from, and most importantly what's yer dang astrological sign? 🤓
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I want us to be imbued, by the land.
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Buried in our skin.
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Taking three steps back.
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Letting the Devil catch me when I fall.
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& he teaches me to find so many stars, also fallen: all scattered in the dirt.
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#juniper #desertsky #desert #easteroregon #storm #devillessons #thedevil #mystic #crossroads #fallenstars #mercuryretrograde #aries #ariesseason #myheart #riverlessons #ethericcurrents
🏔WA🏔
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Cloud mist clinging to rock. The night and day before this was so wet. And my rain anxiety had kicked into high gear. My tent floor, flimsy cuben fiber had tiny holes all in it, making a pool of water around my sleeping pad. It was a poor and very cold night of sleep. As it goes though, you wake up, a little miserable because you have a new definition of what physical misery is and you "cheerfully" trudge through salmon berry, thimble berry bushes, getting drenched from the rain that clings to them. Also acquiring new scratches to your already trashed legs. You come to the top of the long climb and there's the sun, the mountains, huckleberries, the rocks and alpine firs. Lay out all your gear, get your sleeping bag crispy dry, feel full on life and powdered cappuccino mix and continue on...
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My missing this is only growing. Even though in the moment I took this picture all I was dreaming about was avocados, French press, never walking again, being able to preen myself in a real bathroom, and a loaf of sourdough with a pound of butter.
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At the end of this month I will be sending out an herbal tea that has saved me 1000 times from: anxiety, looping thoughts, lack of concentration, feeling emotionally scattered, ADD (actual diagnosis), creeping doom feelings, heavy emotional labor work, dealing with shitty people, stress... lots.
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Obviously I am not a doctor, obviously this isn't a medication if you're dealing with mental health issues. That's for professionals. This however has helped me. As a person who has limited access to professional care, most of my health care is in my own hands. So I read, study and make my own medicine, because that's mostly all I got.
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What is it?
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Deep nervines.
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Deep nutritives.
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Gentle herbs: tulsi, nettle, passionflower and skullcap and a few other herbal friends.
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Uplifting and yet, unknotting tensions we hold inside us. This stuff holds your heart and your brain in a gentle way.
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This will be going up in my shop eventually, but you can get early access through my Patreon for $20. Each month I send out a little herbal care package. There's 10 additional slots open for this round and you're all welcome to join me if it interests you. This tea package will come with four servings and a small guide on an easy tea meditation you can use with *any* herb to get in touch with it, fully experience its medicine, while also coming back to your center: your heart.
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You find a link to my Patreon in my bio 🖤 or, sign up to my newsletter that'll let you know when I'll be doing my shop update 💌
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Often I am curious about the content and nature of the heart of a mountain. I see it as red and molten, naturally due to my location. Especially of this one, Wy'east. From far away he is so intimidating, commanding, he rumbles. I've gone broke neck for him too many times to count, making me swerve when I'm in city traffic. And I've listened to his glaciers crack and thunder out along a ridge line I walked one afternoon, years ago. It shook me deeply. He has held me while I watched stars fall... But when you draw nearer, he seemingly shrinks. Your feet sink deeply into his hot sands, like he wants to trap you, to slow you at least from leaving. Like that aim is for you to be consumed, eaten. He seems hungry and restless for something so deeply fixed in the land.
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I miss that mountain a lot, now that I am further south. When I moved here, I had no clue whatsoever I was getting myself into. I will never forget driving down the 84, of that great river, and moss and mist, of basalt and cascading water...
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My nomadic childhood never allowed me a place to call home, and I did find it here.
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Something else is happening though, the deep restless finds me again and beats in subterranean places within me. I acknowledge it, I sigh, lust for living fills me to the brim and I grow joyous that another landscape will hold me and reshape me as this one has, eventually.
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