Guilty to be walking?

GOMEZ MEADOW

I struggled to stop in the desert. There was nothing to stop for save water and rest. Sure, there were fantastic views but towards the end I, and many others, had tired of it. I have only been in the Sierras for 3 days and already I feel guilty to be walking. Guilty because all the time I am walking I am not looking at the views.

Sometimes I walk along a ridge and the rocks to one side drop off to reveal a view stretching further and lower than I have ever experienced. Gaps in the forest tease me with little glimpses of what lies around and below me. The PCT keeps giving me little presents like a Christmas morning, one gift follows another until you think they can't be any more. But, there are.

Gentle breezes steal the sweat off my arms, the path dips in and out of shade and every few miles a creek gurgles it's way past. I scoop up a handful of water and splash it over my face. I fill my water bottle and drink the purest, sweetest water that is chilled to absolute perfection.

All this is the first three days only. I am reminded by others that this is nothing compared to what is coming up. This, apparently, is just the aperitif, the main course has yet to be tasted.