Summer in the Sierra
Two and a half months since I left—away from home, Italy, Europe, my normal life. We departed a couple of weeks before spring began, and today marks the summer solstice (if I’m not mistaken, it might be the 22nd). I’ve never been away from home this long for a trip.
Today was the final leg of the stretch from Kearsarge Pass to Vermillion Valley Resort, a sort of campground with a restaurant, a small shop, and basic amenities. It’s not just for hikers but also for families and others who come to enjoy the woods and Lake Edison. And, of course, the mosquitoes—always omnipresent. It’s also quite expensive: resupplying here cost me fifty dollars for just two days1 of food. For comparison, I spent $130 in Bishop and got enough to last a week.
Despite the mosquitoes, which sometimes make it nearly impossible to fully enjoy walking in this environment, some of the views of the lakes and forests today were absolutely breathtaking. I was reading a post on Instagram by two women—high school friends hiking the PCT together—in which they wrote that it felt as though there was no limit to the beauty of certain places in the Sierras. Crystal-clear blue lakes, snow-capped peaks, steep rocky passes, ancient forests (why don’t we have as many in Italy or Europe?), and rushing streams that occasionally open into vast meadows where absolute tranquility reigns. At times, it feels like moving through a carefully designed stage set, as if someone wanted hikers to forget the world out there entirely.
Here at the resort, there’s also the option to buy Internet access: twenty dollars for a full day connected to Starlink satellites. I decided to pass on it—partly to continue my experiment of staying offline (I communicate via satellite with the two people I check in with about where I am and whether I’m still alive) and partly because, in the end, I don’t really need it. Let’s be clear: for someone like me, living without the Internet would be an enormous challenge; I’m not saying I’m giving it up entirely. This is an experiment—an occasion to recalibrate the unnecessary, to cut away what’s truly superfluous, and to better focus on what is essential. Or at least, I’m trying.
