Claire Henley: Adventures West (Keep Your Eyes Open)

(Editor's Note: Chattanoogan Claire Henley started an adventure of a lifetime on the remote Pacific Crest Trail in April. Along the way, she had many adventures and found herself a husband named Big Spoon).

“For those with eyes that see what’s not seen. That explore what’s beyond.”
-Big Spoon, “See What’s Not Seen”

On Friday at noon, after checking out from the Best Western, we hiked 13 miles through Angeles National Forest to a campsite on a hill that looked out on the San Gabriel Mountains. It snowed twelve inches the day before–a storm very unusual for Southern California in May. After leaving the hotel, I hiked with Big Spoon along the open ridge, a series of snow covered peaks beyond. It was a cold day but the sun was out. The snow covered mountains reflected a pure golden light like lampshades.

Earlier at the hotel, Big Spoon tried to call his girlfriend who lived in Florida to tell her he wanted to end things so he could pursue me. He didn’t reach her. Therefore, on the trail when we topped out at an 8,000 ft. peak where Big Spoon saw he had cell service, he decided to make the call again, saying to me, “I don’t like to draw things out.”

I went on ahead while Big Spoon made the call. As I walked through fresh deep snow that covered the trail like an obvious strip of whiteout, I remembered the first time Big Spoon caught my eye. I had seen him the day I arrived in San Diego at Scout and Frodo’s and noticed how he stood tall and quiet in the corner, watching the swarm of hikers interact and get ready for the start of their big trek the next day. But it wasn’t until I made Mount Laguna a few days later and went to the Pine House Cafe for lunch that I saw Big Spoon again and realized he was one I wanted to get to know.

This realization occurred because, at the cafe, the hikers sat at a community table where any hiker could join at any time. By the time I got there, the long rectangular table was full and there was one seat left at the head. The hikers hadn’t ordered yet and were quietly reviewing the menus. It felt like slipping in on a business meeting as I took my seat. Then, right after sitting down, I heard a voice from the opposite head of the table say, “Good, you made it. Now we can begin.”

The voice belonged to Big Spoon, and, though I didn’t know him yet, he sounded as if he had been waiting for me. I looked at him who sat directly across from me and found him to be as striking as snow with a soft yet deep countenance. I opened my menu in a manner to suggest I was ready to begin whatever it was we were to begin, and then replied to Big Spoon matter of factly, “Sorry I was late.”

After remembering this, I received a phone call from Big Spoon on the trail.

“I know I could’ve caught up to you to tell you this,” Big Spoon said out of breath, “But I couldn’t wait.”

He told me he had just spoken to his girlfriend, and that when he explained to her the situation between he and I, she laughed. I asked Big Spoon why she laughed, and he said that she was under the impression they had parted ways for good when he left for the PCT. She told Big Spoon she was happy for him and that she hoped he was able to find all he was looking for.

“So you know what that means,” Big Spoon said excitedly before getting off the phone.

“What does that mean?” I asked.

“That I’m going to give you a big kiss when I see you,” he declared.

A mile later, Big Spoon caught up to me. We dropped our packs where we were on the trail and sat on the ridge. Our feet dangled over a crumbled rock cliff that gave way to massive mountains glowing a majestic yellow in the sun. Big Spoon held my hand and told me he could read people–sense their vibes, so to speak–and that he knew there was a connection between us from the moment he saw me. He remembered back before he started the trail, and how all the steps he took, all the decisions he made, and  all the trials he faced got him to where he was right now. He said life was fascinating, because, in truth, he didn’t even care for long-distance hiking when it came to everything else in the world there was to do, but that something inside him inspired, pushed, and guided him to hike the PCT. He remembered how early on in the hike, when our paths crossed, I would wave to him and him alone. “It showed me that you cared,” Big Spoon said. Then he lifted his hand to my cheek and asked, “Where have you been all my life, Claire?”

“I’ve been right here, Caleb,” I replied. Then he kissed me on the ridge beneath the beaming sun.

“You know how you can see things that aren’t really there?” He asked me after the long-awaited kiss. We were strapping our backpacks back on, and I answered yes. Big Spoon then revealed that mere minutes ago, on his walk to catch up to me, he saw a red rock in the shape of a heart that looked like a face flashing a smile as he passed it by. “It only looked like a face for a moment–like a sign letting me know everything between us was right–then it turned back into a rock,” Big Spoon said with certainty.

The next morning, he and the Tallyhos got going while I stayed at the campsite to write in my journal. It was the day we would make the town of Wrightwood at mile 369. The weather was cloudy and cold. When I hit the trail, I hiked alone up a steep and snowy path. My fingertips went numb and my shoes and socks got soaked. It was a trying hike that was all fogged in with nothing to see. I thought back to a few days before when Big Spoon was ahead on the trail and left me a message he wrote out of rocks that read, “HANDS.” I had walked right by the message without seeing it, and Big Spoon told me to be sure and keep my eyes open in order to not miss something important. Thus, in the cold and solitude of the forest, my spirit warmed when I completed a hard uphill and saw from my peripherals lettering made out of dark sticks on the snowy hillside that read, “J’aime Claire.”

I met up with Big Spoon soon after. He was sitting in a windless spot within some trees, waiting for me. He wrote a poem to pass the time called “See What’s Not Seen.” It was about keeping your eyes open to see what you see. Big Spoon shared with me a line: “So take a close look, and look close indeed, for you might be surprised at what you might see.”

We hiked together the rest of the way to Wrightwood along the trail that led down the ski lifts of Mountain High Ski Resort. At the road crossing called Inspiration Point, a couple named Clayton and Jan picked us up, drove us into town, and offered us a place to sleep in their quaint little cabin. Wrightwood flourished with hikers and locals, unique shops, big mountains, and smoky smells from burning firewood. We visited Hillside Community Church the next morning. It was a white church built on a hill where purple irises reigned. The preacher, Terry, noticed us as PCT hikers right away and came up to introduce himself. He was tall and slender with smiling eyes, and said there was a special joy that came from walking through God’s wilderness with your significant other.

After church, Big Spoon and I got dropped back off at Inspiration Point to regain the trail. The Tallyhos were just ahead. The sun was out but clouds were rolling in. The day’s hike would lead us to the top of Mount Baden Powell–the tallest peak on the PCT in Southern California, standing at 9,399 ft. On the hard climb up through thick white snow, Big Spoon and I talked about the big things like marriage and kids and God and work and love and life and the odd, wonderful, fantastic phenomenon of when you know, you know about the one you were meant to spend your life with.

He and I both saw with eyes wide open this possibility in the other.

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Claire's first book on her adventures while living in Colorado can be ordered here:

http://www.amazon.com/51-Weeks-The-Unfinished-Journey-ebook/dp/B00IWYDLBQ/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1394801373&sr=8-1&keywords=51+Weeks