Mount Pacifico and the Importance of Time Alone

I love the wilderness. There is something about being in nature that thrills me like nothing else on this Earth. I've heard it said that nature is God's anti-depressant, and I couldn't agree more, and as much as I love sharing nature with good friends, I also ADORE being out in the wilderness entirely alone.

I love being alone. It gives me time to clear my head, to think my own thoughts and to distill the day or week's events. Alone time recharges me from the wonderful workdays I have filled with loads of amazing people, whom I also truly adore and truly love spending time with. In fact, the dichotomy of being around so many people during the week and getting to spend time alone on the weekend, for me has enabled me to strike what I feel is a perfect balance.

I don't spend every weekend solo, nor would I want to. However, every third weekend or so, I crave being able to venture into the wilderness alone. This past weekend I got to do just that.

I found the most amazing campground ever just a three hour hike outside of Los Angeles, and yes, I'm going to give it away in the hopes that some of you might decide to check it out for yourself. It is Mt. Pacifico. Whoa! Of course the thing I liked the best about it, besides the amazing views, was the fact that I had the entire campground of about 9 sites entirely to myself. Having this much space to oneself in this crazy city and in this day and time is nothing short of heaven.

To access Mt. Pacifico, just drive up the Angeles Crest Highway past the Monte Cristo campground all the way up until you get to Mill Creek Summit picnic area. There are a few pit toilets there as well as a place to leave your car. Of course contribute to the forest service and make sure you have your Adventure Pass hanging from your car's mirror. This hike is along the famous Pacific Crest Trail, so it is very well maintained and breathtakingly beautiful. As much as I was hoping to see signs of bear along the way, all I saw was an abundance of what I believe to be coyote scat (basing this assumption off pics I found in the marvelous book by Mark Elbroch, "Mammal Tracks & Sign").

Nevertheless, this campground had bear proof trash cans, which leads me to think that at least one bear has likely been sited here. Don't get me wrong, although I secretly would love to see a bear, I also know they are dangerous and can be deadly. I always hope for a siting in which I can observe from afar rather than one in which I have to fear for my life!

Once you get on the trail, it's almost exactly 3 hours to the top if you maintain a steady pace, and there is a 2214 foot elevation gain, so it's not for folks who never train their aerobic system. Just about one mile from the campground, you'll come to a turn off, but it's really well marked. Head one last mile all the way up a fire road, and you'll dead end at the Mt. Pacifico Campground, which has a 360 degree view of the surrounding mountains. At night, you can see city lights also from several sides.

There are loads of huge boulders up there, which make for some interesting campsites, and there are horse rails, in case you want to bring your horse.

I no longer bring a lighter with me when I go on one of these expeditions. This week I opted for a simple ferro rod. Truth be told though, because the LA Basin is so dry, it was really way too easy to get a fire going, which lead me to deciding that moving forward I'm going to go bow drill or nothing when it comes to keeping my skills sharp.

Everything up there was dry, dry, dry. I gathered some grasses and dead pine branches with needles still afixed, and just a few strokes of my ferro rod had a nice fire going. As I am still leery of bears, I built a nice sized fire using loads of dead wood I found and settled in for the night. My thoughts were reeling! I am sitting upon the precipice of my next adventure, the one I've been planning and training for for over a year now, and I get to start it in less than three week's time.

I no longer feel guilty about going. I have worked my ass off for years to set myself up, so I can do things like this. I have a stupendous staff and coaches who care about our gym as much as I do.

I marvel at the sunset. I think about life. I think about God and about how I am glad I feel it's presence in my life again. I break down crying when I realize that Sigma III Survival School for me, was nothing short of a spiritual awakening experience. I think about my friends who are religious. I long to ask my Christian and Muslim friends what it is they find in their faith that comforts them. I long to ask them if they truly feel their faith is truly the "only" way. I wonder how I would feel if any of them answered yes to that question, which is why I prefer to remain outside any one religion, as I believe that God is all, not limited to some, not sectioned off to those of one faith versus those of another. I think of all the craziness in the world right now. I think of the people on Facebook who seemed determine to choose sides, to hate, to fear.

I wonder out loud what would happen if everyone just decided to choose good.

I talk out loud to myself. I spend the entire evening in conversation listening to myself think. I realize I hear myself better when I am speaking out loud, yet doing so in public places is kind of weird and frowned upon. I know this is one of the many reasons why I have to come here, to places like this, so I can hear my own thoughts. I think my thoughts come to me for some reason. I think it is important that I listen to myself.

I decide to sing.

I used to have a truly amazing singing voice, because honestly, I used to practice all of the time. However, in life, we all must choose to edit. We cannot be all things to all people. We cannot be good at everything, nor do everything, nor have everything. We must choose. We must edit.

As my life has taken on the joyous flavor of getting to lead and coach others in weightlifting and CrossFit, I do not regret no longer practicing my song, but tonight, I decide I'm going to push past my now gravely voice (made so from so much talking loudly in my classes) and give it the old college try.

I sing Maria McKee and Janis Joplin, Joni Mitchell and Kate Bush at the top of my voice. I laugh as my voice cracks and my notes are off key. I am joyous. I am reveling in the beauty that is around me. I find myself embarrassed just a little, lest someone be approaching and thinking I am odd. I find it amusing that I worry at all about that stuff, when I am all alone, but social conditioning is not something one can break free of in one night.

I sing Christina Aguilera and I wish I knew some Lucinda Williams. I think now my voice would be best suited for her songs. I am having a great time. I am truly enjoying my own company.

Before the blackness envelops me, I gather loads and loads of firewood. Lengthy dried branches from dead trees are easy pickings, so long as I am willing to haul their ten foot spindly bodies to my site. I make a make-shift fence with all of them around my campsite, so at least I'll have fair warning, should a bear decide to check out my tent during the night. I sit on a huge rock, suddenly aware that if a mountain lion decided to have me for dinner, I am an easy target. I decide to f**k fear and sit there anyway.

I decide that I am not a squirrel. No, I am a mountain lion.

When I was at Sigma III, we played a silly game. In total violation of any Indian credo, our guide, leader, third-blood American Indian who hated the idea of spirit animals, bucked the stupidity inherent in white people assigning each other such and decided to playfully assign all of us spirit animals anyway (entirely in jest). When he got to me, he paused, seemingly deeply having considered what he was going to assign me.

After what seemed an eternity, he labeled me a fox.

I wish I'd asked him why a a fox, because I don't know much about foxes. We all joked about assigning me the cougar status, since I'm an older woman. After he said that I was a fox, I piped up that I thought I was more likely a squirrel. Fastidious, a planner, even though it was unsexy, I just felt in that moment that it suited me best. He decided that was fine and went with it.

When I first started my adventures just over a year ago, being killed by a mountain lion was a very real fear. When I wrote about my journeys, one of my female friends for whom I have great admiration gave me the moniker "woman who walks with mountain lions". I don't think I quite felt worthy of that then, but I think I do now. Last night, I decided I am worthy of walking with mountain lions, and so continues my quest.

In less than 3 week's time, I head back to Missouri (because it's just so dang beautiful in a different way there, and because the climate is a much different challenge and because I have a great place to stay in which to do my next thing, and because my Canada trip fell through). I'll be staying in a tiny cabin for the first 45 days. It has no running water, no electricity, and no plumbing. I plan to practice trapping, build another bow, practice archery, practice shooting, further hone my plant identification skills, hopefully kill something large enough that I can tan the hide and smoke the meat, build a teepee, experiment with different types of shelters, hopefully kill and eat some snakes (there are lots there), hopefully make flour from some of the grasses, practice bow drill daily, as well as take another flint knapping class, so I can make more arrowheads for more arrows I plan to use to train with.

I also plan to bring a non-electric typewriter to continue working on the book I am writing about my Sigma III experience.

For the second half of the trip, I plan to live solely off the land, near a creek entirely alone. If you've ever watched the show, "Alone" (which I only heard of during my Sigma III adventure and am now totally hooked on), you'll know what I will be up against. The main differences will be that my main sources of food will not come from the sea, but rather probably mainly armadillos, frogs, snakes and maybe an occasional turtle if all else fails. (No one wants to kill a turtle!)

It is spiritual out there. That is what I know I will get to experience. When I come back, I know I will have deeper insights into what is next for me in this life. Big decisions are on the horizon, and I am looking forward to seeing to where I am being lead.

I can't wait!