I thought sleep would come easily on the Pacific Crest Trail, but once again I was wrong.
It is only night six, and I have yet to enjoy a full night's sleep.
Night one it was aches, then the wind, then cottonmouth, then cars, then coyotes, and now, as I am writing this, a symphony of frogs is echoing through my campsite (and their music is far from soothing). When sleep does finally come, it is accompanied by bizarre and vivid dreams (mostly PCT related), and constant interruption.
Only now I can appreciate why some people end up spending a significant amount of money on lodging whilst hiking the trail. For being out in the middle of nowhere, there certainly are a lot of things to keep you up at night.
Oh yes, I almost forgot. In addition to horrible, horrible cottonmouth on night three, I was also plagued by a giant Mexican Jesus party. Now this is not to say that there was a party with a giant Mexican Jesus in attendance, but rather that there was a giant party of Mexicans (a women's church retreat) all celebrating Hay-Zeus at the campground until the wee hours of the morning (complete with amplified music and chanting).
If the elusive full night's sleep is out there somewhere along the trail, I would sure like to happen upon it soon. I do not know how I have survived hiking twenty miles a day (twenty-one today) on such terrible sleep. But alas, when sleep is in short supply, there is but one thing we can do to ward off our demons: write haikus.
You torment me, why?
I dream of you all day long
But then no dreams come