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Pct в предложении (на )

  2. The PCT was just beyond it.
  3. Now the PCT and I were tied.
  4. I wondered where the PCT was.
  5. After I’m done with the PCT.

  6. By noon I didn’t even see the PCT.
  7. The PCT had taught me what a mile was.
  8. The Queen of the PCT, said Richie.
  9. It was a woman who first thought of the PCT.
  10. Are you, by chance, hiking the PCT?
  11. We picked the wrong year to hike the PCT.
  12. It meant I’d followed the path of the PCT.
  13. But hiking the PCT was hard in a different way.
  14. I couldn’t allow even a line of it now on the PCT.
  15. By nightfall four other PCT hikers joined my encampment.

  16. The radical aloneness of the PCT had altered that sense.
  17. You a PCT hiker? the woman behind the counter asked.
  18. I’d planned to put them all to rest while hiking the PCT.
  19. I’d last been home the week before I left to hike the PCT.
  20. Didn’t know, even, that there was a PCT hiker vernacular.
  21. I wanted to hike the PCT, but I couldn’t! It was socked in!.
  22. It was me against the PCT when it came to my toenails, I realized.
  23. The amount I had left over was the amount I could spend on the PCT.
  24. They weren’t gearheads or backpacking experts or PCT know-it-alls.
  25. I knew in an instant that he was a PCT hiker by the drag of his gait.

  26. If I walked up to the PCT as planned, I’d be walking into more snow.
  27. When I told him about hiking the PCT, he insisted on washing my clothes.
  28. It hadn’t affected the PCT so far, but he’d told them to be on alert.
  29. If all went as planned, in another fifty days I’d be done with the PCT.
  30. You a PCT hiker? the man who stood behind the cash register asked me.
  31. I’d used it only a few times experimentally before I took it on the PCT.
  32. The PCT had gotten easier for me, but that was different from it getting easy.
  33. I hadn’t been so far from my pack since I began the PCT, and it felt strange.
  34. When I told her I was hiking the PCT, she offered to give me a ride to the trail.
  35. So when I was packing for the PCT, I’d decided to give the book another chance.
  36. It occurred to me that I could ask her for a job for the summer and quit the PCT.
  37. I still didn’t know precisely where I was, but at least I knew I was on the PCT.
  38. The PCT was just beyond it, the women had told me as I’d climbed out of their van.
  39. I’d planned to leave them in the PCT hiker free box as soon as my new boots arrived.
  40. It was early but hot already as I walked the road to the place where the PCT crossed it.
  41. In Ashland there would be food, music, and wine, and people who knew nothing of the PCT.
  42. I laughed with the joy of it, and the next moment I was crying my first tears on the PCT.
  43. Each step was also a calculated effort to stay approximately on what I hoped was the PCT.
  44. What was it about Strayed that inspired the generosity of so many strangers on the PCT?
  45. I was homesick, but I didn’t know if it was for the life I used to have or for the PCT.
  46. From the campground they said I could hike a short trail that would take me up to the PCT.
  47. They caught rides and buses to rejoin the PCT farther north, at lower elevations, he told me.
  48. Sometimes that meant that the land would remain untouched, as it had been on most of the PCT.
  49. By bailing out like most of the other PCT hikers had, I’d miss the glory of the High Sierra.
  50. And the state park offered a free campsite to PCT hikers, where I could also get a hot shower.
  51. How did being on the PCT on her mother’s fiftieth birthday help Strayed to heal this wound?
  52. I explained to them about hiking the PCT, about how I planned to lay over in Ashland for the weekend.
  53. He was what’s referred to in PCT hiker vernacular as a trail angel, but I didn’t know that then.
  54. After we hung up, I signed the PCT hiker register and scanned it to see when Greg had passed through.
  55. On the PCT I had no choice but to inhabit it entirely, to show my grubby face to the whole wide world.
  56. I sat holding my pen, only thinking of them and also of the things I could tell him about my time on the PCT.
  57. I knew immediately by their sweat-stained T-shirts they were PCT hikers, though they didn’t have their packs.
  58. As I explained to him what the PCT was and what I was doing on it, I saw that Jimmy Carter wasn’t bad-looking.
  59. The only reasonable place to get back on the PCT was where it crossed a road fourteen miles west of where we were.
  60. I hadn’t planned to make the detour, but when I reached the trail junction on the PCT, my endless hunger won out.
  61. From there I could follow a jeep road that wended its way north, ascending to the PCT at a place called Three Lakes.
  62. I stopped in my tracks when that thought came into my mind, that hiking the PCT was the hardest thing I’d ever done.
  63. John and Sarah were from Alberta, Canada, and hadn’t even been dating a year when they’d started to hike the PCT.
  64. I’d left it that morning in the PCT hiker free box at the Sierra City post office as Greg and I strolled out of town.
  65. I spent an afternoon lost amid the debris, walking for hours before I emerged onto a paved road and found the PCT again.
  66. Jardine was an expert and indisputable guru on all things PCT, especially on how to hike it without carrying a heavy load.
  67. The summit of Mount Whitney, the highest peak in the contiguous United States, was closer still, a short detour off the PCT.
  68. I hadn’t read Muir’s books about the Sierra Nevada before I hiked the PCT, but I knew he was the founder of the Sierra Club.
  69. I could have taken a side trail to it a day out of Sierra City, but I’d decided to pass it by when I opted to stay on the PCT.
  70. Hello, I said to myself in anticipation of what I’d say once I arrived at the store, I’m a PCT hiker here to pick up my box.
  71. The women were college students who worked at a summer camp; they were going right past the place where the PCT crossed the road.
  72. It was true—the PCT was open to both hikers and pack animals, though I hadn’t yet encountered any horseback riders on the trail.
  73. Before coming on the PCT, I’d imagined countless baths in lakes and rivers and streams, but in reality, only rarely did I plunge in.
  74. I’d be carrying a heavy load of food on this next stretch—one of the longest sections on the PCT: it was 156 miles to Seiad Valley.
  75. I wore the shirt from Paco the next morning as I hiked back to the PCT and on to Belden Town, catching glimpses of Lassen Peak as I went.
  76. People came and went in waves, sometimes gathering in little circles around me to ask questions about the PCT when they noticed my pack.
  77. Now I wished for that ice ax with an almost pathological fervor, picturing it sitting uselessly in the PCT hiker free box in Sierra City.
  78. After lunch, Christine drove me to the ranger station in Quincy, but when we got there, the ranger I spoke to seemed only dimly aware of the PCT.
  79. The AT is 2,175 miles long, approximately 500 miles shorter than the PCT, and follows the crest of the Appalachian Mountains from Georgia to Maine.
  80. He said that a few had ended their hikes altogether, just as Greg had told me earlier, deciding to hike the PCT another, less record-breaking year.
  81. Perhaps the impulse to purchase the PCT guidebook months before had been a primal grab for a cure, for the thread of my life that had been severed.
  82. To make matters more complicated, the section of the PCT between Burney Falls and Castle Crags didn’t go north so much as in a wide westerly hook.
  83. If I didn’t opt to get off the trail at Trail Pass to bypass the snow, I’d soon reach Forester Pass, at 13,160 feet the highest point on the PCT.
  84. I went into the whole PCT shebang, explaining about the trail and the record snowpack and the complicated way I had to hitchhike to get to Old Station.
  85. As the notion of quitting settled in, I came up with another reason to bolster my belief that this whole PCT hike had been an outlandishly stupid idea.
  86. I realized that in spite of my hardships, as I approached the end of the first leg of my journey, I’d begun to feel a blooming affection for the PCT.
  87. It was the reason PCT hikers spent so much time talking about water purifiers and water sources, for fear they’d make one wrong move and have to pay.
  88. It was only once I’d decided to hike the PCT that I learned about the AT—the Appalachian Trail, the far more popular and developed cousin of the PCT.
  89. Some PCT hikers had resupply boxes sent to Lone Pine, but I’d planned to push through to the town of Independence, another fifty trail miles to the north.
  90. His vision went far beyond the PCT, which he hoped would be a mere segment of a much longer Trail of the Americas that would run from Alaska to Chile.
  91. Among backpackers, the Oregon PCT was often referred to as the green tunnel because it opened up to far fewer panoramas than the California trail did.
  92. She’d decided to get off the trail here and return to Colorado to do several day hikes near her home for the rest of the summer instead of hiking the PCT.
  93. But on that night as I gazed out over the darkening land fifty-some nights out on the PCT, it occurred to me that I didn’t have to be amazed by him anymore.
  94. Nearly an hour later, he dropped me off at a place where the PCT crossed a gravel road in the forest, not unlike those I’d followed when lost the day before.
  95. The next morning I said goodbye to Doug and Tom and the two women and I hiked away alone, climbing up the short steep path that went from the lodge to the PCT.
  96. It was 134 miles away at McArthur-Burney Falls Memorial State Park, which had a concessionaire’s store that allowed PCT hikers to use it as a resupply stop.
  97. He lived in San Diego most of the year, he explained, but each summer he set up camp in Kennedy Meadows in order to greet the PCT hikers as they passed through.
  98. My heart leapt with relief when I came across the words WHITEHORSE CAMPGROUND, then it fell when I read on and realized I was nearly two miles away from the PCT.
  99. The alternate route was about the same distance as the PCT, approximately fifteen miles, but it was at a low enough elevation that it had a chance of being snow-free.
  100. I passed fast-food joints and car dealerships, unsure of whether I should stick out my thumb for a ride or spend a night in Ridgecrest and head back to the PCT the next day.

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