Rebecca Hikes

A part of me wants to escape from everything going on. I try to do and say the right things -- to contribute my money, time, to be a good friend, to check in on my family, to do my day job. I want to be a good person. But things seem to be falling apart. Things were bad before. But now it feels like civil society is disintegrating.  As the season for southbound PCT trips approaches, the Pacific Crest Trail Association issued yet another statement telling hikers to avoid multi-day trips.  The season for northbound trips from the Mexico border had started in early spring, and despite strident warnings against it, people are out there anyways. I know because K, who regularly hikes in the San Gabriels where the trail runs above Los Angeles, has met small groups of them. He emails me with stories about them every so often.  On Saturday, with police helicopters overhead, J and I decided to go on a long walk. We had discovered a few weeks back something called...

Last week S said he would allow for a trail run together up through Strawberry Canyon. Restrictions have been gradually easing, but it was the first time in months that he had agreed to run together. I missed running with him. Trail running, like long car rides, have a way of opening up conversation, and especially so with S. And so I had kept asking, every now and then -- but S, so even tempered, slow to display emotion, so rational, so risk averse, had demurred. When S showed up at my place after work around 5:30, we parked his bicycle in the back yard (careful to maintain distance from each other), and I could see that he was clearly feeling emotional. I had been getting the New York Times alerts on my phone about the social media company where he works as an engineer. S works on the abuse team, and with each notification I felt a jolt of pride about the stance they had taken, imagining that it had been him who had personally marked Trump's tweet. But S, a sensitive and e...