Happy Hike Naked Day!

Hi! We're up in Cascade Locks, Oregon. Just a few miles from the border to Washington, the month of August and Cascade mountains await. Just wanted to tell of a special day on the calendar of the one foot wide, 2700 mile long community known as the Pacific Crest Trail...

June 21st marked the summer solstice, known as "hike naked day" on the Pacific Crest Trail. The day was celebrated in the most literal of fashions- by hiking naked. We crossed paths with one thru-hiker who observed Hike Naked Day by climbing up Mount Whitney, the highest peak in the lower 48- a site filled with over a hundred people per day, including some who are innocently unaware of the uniqueness of June 21st.



In honor of Hike Naked Day, we wish to explore the depth and hopefulness that exists within it.


A solstice occurs when night and day last exactly the same amount of time- when sun and moon are granted equal exposure. Many nature-worshiping traditions, including the Celtic/druidic and Wickan ones, numerous Native American ones, and other such cultures made/make great celebrations and dance festivals in honor of the yearly solstices.

According to our tradition, the moon was originally created as one of the two "Me'orot Hagdolot"- the great lights. As a punishment, though, God minimized the moon's size, promising to return her to her original grandeur when this world would reincarnate itself into the next. The moon's equaling the sun as a great light, therefore, is one of the elements of our Acharit Hayamim- the "After days" (Acharit does not mean "end of" as it is often translated. It is more like "afterwords"- as in representing a time after - or beyond- time).

Our redemption includes a return to the state of Adam and Even in the Garden, and continues with our rise- or better said, adjoining of the Oneness, from there. As we all know, Adam and Eve were naked before they sinned. They had yet to be pulled down by physicality, could rather transcend it- and therefore did not need clothing. Their embarrassement at being naked was a reflection of a lowered state.

So back to a solstice. What is the celebration of solstice? When moon gains equal footing as the sun. What are we talking about? Redemption! And why then, would thru-hikers walk naked? Because they are celebrating a return to Eden! They mark the special day by displaying that they are beyond embarrassment at their own physicality. (One might argue, that even when thru-hikers are naked, their bodies are so dirty that they are not, technically, naked, but that's a whole 'nother subject...)

So...


For those that are curious...

We did not hike up Mount Whitney on June 21st.


Nor did we hike naked on Hike Naked Day.


Those with extra relgious fervor might want to ask- why did we not hike naked on Hike Naked Day? After all, its seriousness is the most possible of seriousnesses, its holiness of the holiest degree.

Our answer to such questions is this: As Jews, we are committed to both cyclical and linear understandings of time. While we recognize a constant Divinity within the forces of Nature, identifying God's perfection as being woven within the current state of the world- we also believe in an ultimate redemption, a linear process from imperfect to perfect, incompleteness to completeness, a return from exile to the Land of Israel.

While we have seen clear signs of redemption in the context of our return to our land, we're not there yet (For further research on us "not being there yet," read the news...). So just like the Ma'apilim who were not allowed to rise to Israel after the sin of the spies, just like we are forbidden to enter certain parts of the Temple Mount- we are forbidden from hiking naked on Hike Naked Day.

But how cool is the world! Even if we can't hike naked, we can appreciate others' recognition of something obviously holy- and Hike Naked Day is definetly that. People are so exciting! The universe is so exciting!

So we end with a prayer: We bless you and us, that we may reach the state of meriting to transcend our physicality. No doubt that when we rebuild and return to the Garden, with the help of Hashem, it will be designated wilderness by the Geulah's national park service. And it will no doubt have a special long walking trail through it, in which we can explore God's revealed perfection. On this trail, there will be trail angels, just like there are on the long trails on the current earth. Only these trail angels- they'll be real angels- congratulating humankind on thru-hiking history; overcoming the painful challenges, the tears, the failures, the constant blisters and aches and falls and the dreams to just be done with it all- achieving a full unity with the Master and Breath of the world, and coming out standing tall and proud. And when that happens, please, please let it be soon, may we all be blessed to unabashedly Hike Naked through the backcountry of Eden.

Mile 512- Mammoth Lakes, CA.

Greetings from the Range of Light!


Such is the name given by John Muir to the High Sierra. After two weeks of calling this range our home, we are overcome with the truth contained in Mr. Muir's description.


We're here in Mammoth Lakes, CA.- Sequoia and Kings Canyon National Parks behind us, Yosemite just a day away. After more than 200 miles of roadless trail, we finally crossed a pathway made for motorized travelers this passed Friday (more a dirt road than a major highway. But after miles and miles of uninterrupted wilderness, a road is a road is a road, and it sure looked funny.) The easy access out of the backcountry presented an irresistable opportunity to hiatis to town and a grocery store, so we hopped on a shuttle, shopping-spreed through the supermarket and ducked into the friendly, luxurious confines of a motel6, just in time for shabbat.

Since our break in Bishop, we've continued to meander through the High Sierra, experiencing daily this spectacular show of scenery. It's almost as if Nature is showing off. The pattern of our trail goes like this: Instead of conus shaped mountains with approachable summits, this range is more a labyrinth of towering ridges made of stone, with deep canyons of trees and lakes in between. We climb up to 10, 11, 12 or even 13 thousand feet to a mountain "pass"- a spot in the ridge through which we can walk- and then immediately descend into the canyon, back under the canopy of trees, next to or through flowing creeks, past gentle meadows.









The mountain passes are remarkable- each with their own distinct versions of glacier/snowmelt lakes, a different variation of rock, and hundreds of stunning wildflowers, that succeed in standing tall through pockets in the rocks, holding their ground where even tall, strong trees can't muster the ability to survive.






This far into the walk, we've developed a rythm. We no longer need to take super long breaks in the afternoon and get to camp by 5. We wake up as early as possible and get on the trail between 6 and 8 every morning. Early daytime is such a great time to walk; everything is still so new and it's cool outside. We stop here and there to eat and breathe and then keep going till about 2 when we stop for lunch.


Which brings us to the "Steve wrap." The story goes like this: In the begining of our hike we had packed food like triscuits and fig neutons and peanut butter for "lunch." At that time we weren't burning nearly as many calories as we are now...so that sustained us, although spoonfuls of plain peanut butter can be pretty hard to swallow....

After about a week and a half of such appetizing cuisine, we were resting under a big tree next to the trail and a thru-hiker named Steve pulled up and joined us. He is flying- walking twice our speed. And he talks almost as fast as he walks. He pulls out his bear can and starts preparing a lunch that he had been "dreaming about for the last 20 minutes". His lunch: a tortilla with peanut butter, nutella (chocolate spread) and dried cherries (for the "flare")

We watched him with intrigue as he ate, and decided that a tortilla with peanut butter wasn't a bad idea. The dried cherries sounded like an odd addition, but we let it go. When resupplying in Bishop we bought the ingredients intending to eat the cherries seperately, but decided to take the risk and try eating a "steve wrap" in its original form. The result? It has completely revolutionized our backpacking experience- and the dried cherries are the BEST part! No kidding- try it at home. And if you don't like it? Walk a few hundred miles, and then try it. Still doesn't work? There is a secret ingredient: lunch on fig newtons and spoonfulls of peanut butter for a week.


Back to our typical day- At lunch, we take off our shoes and socks, sometimes take a quick dip and then keep walking, later to stop and cook dinner, sometimes to swim then, too. Next we walk a bit more, rejuvinated by our daily version of an instant, salty grain. Evening has surprisingly become our favorite time to walk, as the day is cooling off, the light is sooo nice as the sun goes down and the quiet is settling in again. We've been pulling into camp right as the sun sets....and becuase we've already cooked, all that's left to do is set up camp and crawl into our sleeping bags and pass out. We always decide that we should start making tea/hot chocolate and read for a bit before bed, but we usually make that commitment during the day, and come night time, our heavy eyes scoff at the idea of staying open for an extra minute.



A gift of the backcountry is the chance to observe amazing wildlife: Marmots, always there to greet us playfully above treeline, giant hares that we confuse with deer, lots of actual deer, a pikka or two (little rodent-like animals that have an extra sweater of fur for the alpine cold) and a lone coyote (a treat, for they are notoriously shy).


We haven't seen any bears yet. Thus far, the only animal to make its way into our food is the one and only, the wild, sly, terrifying, undisputed king of the Sierra Nevada wilderness:The chipmunk. One day during a swim, the chipmunk went on one of his vicious hunts: Sneaking right behind our backs, he dug his way into a bag of nuts and proceeded to chow down. Discovering his mischief, we guarded our food more closely. But he decided we weren't a threat and marched proudly within several inches of us to gather scraps that he had dropped- no shame whatsoever. Since then we have termed our bear cannisters chipmunk cannisters, after the fearless creature that they protect us from.



A final species to play a part in our adventure, another small giant, is the mosquito. Never alone, never, it seems, in groups less than a thousand, the mosquito is there to warmly greet us whenever we cross under treeline. To date, we are still unappreciative of his hospitality. They come in SWARMS!!! In our eyes, ears, mouth, food. At times, we've pretty much lost it. Never having been ones for middle ground anyway, we've traded our deet-free lemon eucalyptus bug repellent for 100% DEET- The little container warns of over-applying, spraying directly onto the face, basically going one step short of directing the purchaser of the product not to apply the product at all. Apparently wiser than we are, the mosquitos seem to understand how potent the chemical actually is, and scram every time we put on just a bit.



A first for us, was observing a fast day, the 17th of Tamuz, in the backcountry. Burning calories three times as fast as usual, the fast was pretty tough. Recognizing our difficult time, the mosquitos happily came to keep us company. Grumpy and hungry, we were not in the mood for a playdate. Apparently interpreting our pleas for mercy as an invitation for more, the mosquitos came at us with more fervor. The end of it all?- We stayed in the tent for most of the day, and eventually stripped down in the afternoon and went and sat in the river just to get away from them...the following morning we got ready in record time and ran outta there.


Weather has been beautiful- the Sierra Nevada is one of the most mildly-climated mountain ranges in the world. Every day brings lots of sun. We probably saw clouds for the first time in a month a few days ago (kind of a change from Scotland and Ireland). Night's cold and morning's somehow colder- one day, after camping low by a river bank, we awoke to find frozen condensation on our sleeping bags, ice in our water bottle and bear cans that were frozen shut. Chan sat on hers for ten minutes to warm it up, till she could finally open it and get breakfast. But the sun always rises above the ridge, and beautiful weather follows without fail.

All in all, walking has become almost like a long term meditation...an excercise in thought and in removing thought. We are very conscious that we are nearing an end in the High Sierra and cannot believe the beauty that we have been present to. Back in Kennedy Meadows Campground (towards the beginning of our walk on the PCT), a man drove by and told us that he had hiked the PCT in '77. He said that he can still remember what happened on every single day of his thru-hike. An experience so intense is hard to forget, he continued. We've been reading this small booklet, memoirs of a PCT hiker called "Mystical Backpacking," where the author writes of the exact same phenomenon. And when we think about it, we too can put ourselves back into everyday that we've hiked so far. We can visualize standing on every single one of the passes and remember the views and how we were feeling- not something that we can do in our roles as students or at work. We both feel very lucky and blessed to have experienced these last weeks.

Next on schedule comes Yosemite. More of the Range of Light, perhaps the most famous part of it. As always, being in town has relaxed us, but also reminded us why we want to be outside- where cars don't roam, lights don't direct traffic and "stuff" hasn't complicated the beautiful world that was given to us.

Goodbye for now, all of our friends and family at home and everywhere else- we spend lots of time thinking of you, and always try to guess what you're up to.


May we all merit appreciativeness,

Love,

Chana and Yannai