[pct-l] the miracle of resupply

[goforth@xxxxxxx (Joanne Lennox)]

I remember opening that first resupply box at Laguna. It has a timeless
quality too it.  There was a miraculous sense that it had arrived and I had
also to pick it up.  It was there, I was on the trail, everything was okay,
everything was wonderful.  I was grateful to be alive, to be hiking, I was
grateful to the post office for the service.

The same thing happened at Warner Springs.

And then at Anza I met my first trail angels (Pat and Paul). My package was
at the store, sitting on the floor. Paul in his irrepressible warm upbeat
way picked it up in his golf cart and drove it to his home, which became my
refuge over 2 successive snow storms and stays. This was a miracle of
humanness, of belief in the kindness and goodness of one human to another.
Nothing prepared me for the impact that it would have, and the memory of it
even now pervades my life in subtle but no less important ways.

After about a month on the trail, I had began to forget what I packed into
the boxes.  They were all different. Some items were always there (the
guidebook pages, matches, etc), but I had a large variety of menus(20
differnt dinners), and no set method of packing.   Consequently in opening
the boxes, there were always surprises.  I loved getting to the resupply
and opening the box.  Eventually there were friends doing this with me,
sharing what was there, laughing, comparing, and amazed at how different
everybody was eating and experiencing the trail. Looking at the tread on
their shoes, to identify them on the trail(theywere usually in front). This
miracle got me all the way.  I never openned a resupply , that I did not
somehow feel that I was participating in a kind of magic.

I owe a huge debt to the PCT , to those people who work to maintain it and
safeguard it, and mostly to the people who supported me and helped me
resupply.

Goforth