Miles 982.3 – 1004.4
July 15th, 2017
The next morning three hikers casually walked across a part of the river where not but ten hours prior we were swimming but alas, it was now a slow knee-high trickle. If we would’ve just stayed on the other side of the river we could have had a different experience, but you live and learn. Often times it’s the failures in life that create the best stories but at the time of true failure all you can think about is how you wish you would’ve done differently. We ate our crap food, packed up and climbed towards Dorothy Lake, stopping along the way to give our best shot at catching some High Sierra trout with Dixie’s fly rod – to no avail. Didn’t matter not one bit, we were only a few miles from hitting the 1000 mile marker, and we were shitting our pants with joy.
Hitting a thousand miles puts everything into perspective. All the hardships, the grandiose views of the Sierra, the rash in between your legs where the sun don’t shine . . really it all felt like a blur. A splendid blur. Best blur ever. We hung around that marker for a little while, savoring our newfound accomplishment. It was pretty sweet.
Four miles later we were in our tents, dreaming of the next thousand miles, and what might be around each corner.