I've reached the monument. An arbitrary point along a continuing trail. It's where this journey ends for me. A place with little value of its own but infinite value to others. A frame for so many journeys. This place which previously lay in my distant future now lies in my past. For so many others it still needs to be conquered. This place sends 1000s each year on a pilgrimage. A spiritual place. I'll turn around now to walk back to civilization while this stone monument will continue to stand proud in memory.  It's time to take this journey home. 

As I arrive back at Harts Pass I learn that the fires have forced the trail behind me closed. I'm overcome with feelings of relief from months of tension. I'm emotional, but don't yet know it. All around me are people processing the completion of their hike. Some have made it to the border, others won't be able to due to fires. For those who can not the abrupt completion is a shock. Ironically so is it for those of us who have. It's easy to forget that we signed up for an arbitrary goal, done not out of necessity, but choice. A choice to embark on a journey north, for reasons personal to each. The border monument merely a "period" to that story. Permission to go home. A stone monument in the middle of the woods invites us to acknowledge the absurdity of it all. Hiking an arbitrary 2650 miles to arrive at an arbitrary boundary between arbitrary countries protecting arbitrary laws, values, and ideals. A realm of fiction. This isn't a critique but an acknowledgment. With this comes liberation. Liberty to draft one's own narrative. Choose the setting, tone, cast, plot line, and challenges. The trail teaches what is real and what isn't. The monument stands and testifies to that.

Hiking The Pacific Crest Trail has been the greatest endeavor of my life. A teacher unlike any other. Pushing my body and mind past unknown limits. Along the way forming deep bonds with others, and new understandings of myself. Enlightening me to some of the inner workings of nature. Intimately demonstrating the realities of climate change. Exposing human kindness, ingenuity, passion, and ability. A massively holistic experience.


*Writing this last entry from the comfort of a friends kitchen back in New Jersey is bringing up feelings of nostalgia. It's been less than two weeks since completion, and already it's feeling like a part of my distant past. I expected that to take more time. Demonstrating once again the foolishness in expectations. Who knows where the adventure will take me next but one thing is for certain, it doesn't end here.*

I just hiked 44 miles to complete the Pacific Crest Trail. Oddly enough I feel little. By the time I arrived the sun has already set. I placed my things down and sat against the monument for a few moments, sipping champagne I've carried for the occasion. Nothing. Now I'm laying on some uneven ground beneath a tree to avoid the inevitable morning condensation, as I've done so many times before. Tomorrow I'll spend some more time in reflection. I'm glad for the conclusion. That is besides for the thirty miles I must now hike back to Harts Pass. One day shy of four months and the PCT is a part of my history. 

I received my first congratulatory remarks from a passing day hiker. To think that there are just a few hours until I reach the end of this insane experiment.  Coincidentally our camp site tonight lies 42 miles short of the northern terminus. Tomorrow beginning at 3:30 am, Two Tone and I will push those 42 remaining miles to the monument. My body hurts exactly how I'd expect it to after 120 days of hiking but nothing could be worse than what I've already been through. It's weird to reflect back to the second day on trail when I hiked 14 difficult miles and doubted how I'd ever make it the next 2630. Now I'm sleeping a mere 42 miles from the end and once again will challenge my mind and body to its fullest. It's hard to say which challenge is greater but at least now I'm certain I have the grit. Months of effort are culminating in this last challenge. I feel good about leaving trail. It took some reflection and conversation to reach this point but I find the experience to be more integrated as a part of my core experience rather than a separate one. Soon this will all be in memory. Few will understand what we've been through but it won't matter much. It's who I've become and how I've personally developed that matters. My new and affirmed perspectives. Confidence. Awe. Friendships. Abilities. Understanding.

It's been 20 days since last journaling. Immediately after getting back on trail from Trout Lake I lost my phone. Having spent the day hanging out with C-Dog, Slay, Two Tone, and Rapunzel, resupplying, eating, and playing, we hitched the 25 minutes back to trail in the back of a pickup truck. Moments later my phone fell from my pocket while skipping in an event only understood by the moment. By the time I noticed there was a 5 mile gap where it may have fallen. I ran back a few looking under every blowdown for a sign of it, to no avail. The next day I had family log in to my computer back home and use find my iPhone to get the coordinates. Luckily it was within service and I hadn't yet turned on airplane mode (an anomaly). After getting the location I asked a southbound hiker to look for it there and if found please ship it to me at the next town. They found it and did as promised, though in the confusion it was headed to C-Dogs house in Tennessee. When I learned about this at White Pass I rerouted the delivery to Cascade Locks, where I had already considered returning to for PCT Days the next week. 

A lot has happened in the last 20 days that will live mostly in memory, unjournaled. Since Trout Lake I hiked with Two Tone and Rapunzel. It was nice to have consistent companionship again. Together we went to PCT Days, getting picked up by Rapunzel's trail friend Sherpa. Cascade Locks was a true party, with friends from all over trail consolidating in one place. Only on trail can a lifetime of experiences fit into the 24 hour's I spent there. Overflowing with new memories and emotions Two Tone and I returned to Snoqualmie Pass while Rapunzel stayed behind reunited with old friends. We continue to hike together up to the border. The trail at this point is rich with emotion as things begin to wrap up. Each person at this point has gone through a similar journey of struggle and accomplishment. The sense of closure is feeling natural as I quickly approach the northern terminus. I'm prepared to transition to the post trail life, more so than just a few weeks ago. Whatever comes next I know will carry the lessons I've learned here. One of those being; what I pursue matters less than how I pursue it. Put in other words; it's the journey that counts, and virtue is found with intention.

I think I finally figured out why it is so important for me to be able to take routes off trail. For someone looking in it may seem a silly idea that to walk 20 miles on a path "off trail" in lieu of 25 miles of path "on trail" is any less significant, however there exists a culture of purity that becomes apparent rather quickly and can easily overpower what one brought as their own personal objectives. Self determination and accountability toward someone else's goals. Ideas that I respect quite immensely however only when authentic to oneself. If you ask anybody here most will reveal a grander purpose for being on trail beyond reaching Canada. I came for a sense of simplicity, liberty, and adventure. Each of those require living in the moment, beyond constraints, responsive to circumstance and environment, unrestricted by the ideas rules or objectives of others. A true adventure has no pre-defined path nor right or wrong direction. So the trail continues to be a facilitator, a space for deep thought, and an environment to experiment with life. Sometimes the trail leads to another and that's ok. It's not enough to just be free in one's thoughts, we must also be free in our actions. So the appearance of cowardice or cheating, might actually just be the independent act of doing something not familiar by others. It isn't lost on me that most of my side adventures are surface level easier physically, however the mental challenge taking the unknown or even the physical one taking a less traveled path reinforces my ability to navigate the world independently with confidence.

At the junction with the road I turned right to take the 19 mile road walk into town. Its long, tough, and boring. Perfect for changing things up. In the boredom and pain I remind myself that all previous experiences suggest that so long as I keep walking I'll arrive as expected. Yet in the moment it's a seemingly impossible 19 miles left on the map. Time to zone out and walk.

Nine miles before town I begin throwing my thumb at passing cars. The asphalt is just really hurting my feet. Seven miles out a car pulls over to offer a hitch. A mother and daughter are returning from a night camping and are happy to drive me to town, feeding me snacks along the way. Trout Lake is flush with unfamiliar hikers. Overwhelmed I settle into the cafe for a fresh meal. Not long after I'm sitting with new friends. We're the last ones to leave after closing. Heading toward camp I bump into Slay and C-Dog who've just arrived. We sit and chat for a while before continuing on to camp for the night.

Today reminded me of day two for its degree of difficulty and discomfort. The elevation itself is quite doable at this point, even enjoyable at times, but these new blisters possibly caused by the worn down shoes also contributing to further Achilles pain, are no fun and frankly getting a bit old. Despite the discomforts it's become so obvious what I must do that hiking forward is a near instinct rather than choice. But if I may complain just a moment more I'd like to mention my displeasure with the return of sweltering heat this time with thick humidity that reminds me of home. I've possibly never sweat more than I did today. Which is why the quick dip in the cold river was absolutely incredible. I thought I'd push further than the 25 I've pitched camp at but with a long lunch and unplanned cell phone service break I called it at the closer of the two springs after a long uphill water carry. Tomorrow I hope to get just outside of Trout Lake where I'll hopefully pick up new shoes.

Started the day with a cup of coffee and breakfast at the coffee shop. Sat there a while while charging up and chatting with friends. In between I ran over to the grocery store for a quick resupply of an experimental nature. Finally sick of ramen I bought peanut butter, bread, cream cheese, a few frozen burritos, and tub of yogurt. Along with what's left in my food bag this should get me the four days to Trout Lake.

Walking across the Bridge of The Gods had me laughing with joy. Crossing the sign welcoming us to Washington felt unreal. Washington has always been a distant future possibly achievable by hikers stronger than me. At the other side I popped open a beer with C-Dog and Slay. Yet, Washington did not leave a good first impression. The enduring steep grades were to be expected but the uneven, rocky trail is just brutal on my feet. Additionally much of the trail has been overgrown requiring literal bush wacking to trudge through. I'm appreciative all the more so for the efforts expended in Oregon to make the trail not this way and hopeful it's different ahead. Either way the home stretch has begun. In one month from today I take a train from Seattle to New York to check in with family and prepare myself for the next adventure. That leaves just a few weeks left on trail. I'm physically ready and mentally preparing. I'll certainly miss the opportunities to have dinner on a rock in the middle of a creek from a tub of yogurt that I carried 20 miles, but I'll similarly appreciate the comforts of eating a freshly cooked meal off of a table, in a climate controlled, bug free, home. 

I began this adventure with consideration of gifting this experience to my 9 year old future self. To the kid who'd drift beyond the brick walls and teachers voice out the barely open window, just past the cool fall breeze to a place wild, free, and rich with adventure. That place is here. I only wish I could write a message in those passing clouds letting him know that some day he'd find his way. But maybe I do and that's how I got here. Today I feel proud. Even with all my doubts and insecurities. It's an emotional realization after years of choosing growth over comfort. I'm excited for the future unknowns.

I took an alternate route with Ibex for the waterfalls and rocky terrain. Though painful it was well worth the incredible views and frigid swim. Passing day hikers galore we arrive at the road leading into Cascade Locks and are immediately offered a ride to town from a visiting couple. What is this? Time and time again I've been intentionally leaving my destiny to chance and it works in unexpected and beautiful ways. In a conversation with a woman hiking alongside her children who I've last seen nearly 1900 miles ago I realize that these experiences are an opportunity to evolve my perspectives. To incorporate a newfound respect for living life beyond rational understanding. It's been on my mind for some weeks now given the numerous synchronistic experiences. Even before trail I wondered about the idea discussed in so many religions and philosophies encapsulated by words such as Divine, Intuition, or Universe. But as the word "experience" suggests, I've experimented with life at a fundamental level and found the beginnings of an answer which language struggles to capture. Ever a skeptic at heart I will continue to explore this idea with an open mind.

I'm sleeping beside the Columbia River on the border between Oregon and Washington. There are lots of familiar faces, and plenty new. Obviously Oregon went in unexpected ways but the few days here have been incredibly impactful nonetheless. Everyone I meet has their own stories related to the challenges of this  past week. It's brought an even further sense of unity between hikers. Tomorrow I cross by foot into Washington. 

A beautiful day on trail. The weather could not have been better, nor the views. Mt. Hood showed her face from all angels, glowing in a grand finale of pink and white as evening turned to night. Sand, waterfalls, and mountains galore, today was an ideal day of hiking with old friends.

We left the Airbnb back for trail doing just a few miles to regain momentum. Not far in we stopped to swim in a lake where fire fighting planes dipped to refill their water tanks. A wholesome day spent with good people. 

I left our Airbnb to pickup some ingredients for breakfast then not again until walking Stacy out after dinner in the evening. Finding comfort on the couch and air conditioning was what I needed this zero. So when the others left to float down the river I put my feet up and watched a movie. It's been a good while since taking a "homestyle" zero, lounging in a living room, eating home cooked meals. Tomorrow we go back to trail just 75 miles from the Washington border. But today that isn't important.

One of those days filled with uncertainty and unexpected adventure. Last night not long after falling asleep under the stars a storm rolled in dropping rain on our unsheltered bodies. It took a few moments of hopeful waiting to see if the rain would pass before I got up to pitch my tent, only half awake. Then I lay that way for a good while longer. I suddenly had realized just how close to finishing I am. All along I had anticipated giving Oregon my most valiant effort and for Washington to be the place to mentally transition to what comes next. But now with the fire closures and the prospect of skipping nearly all of Oregon the time for transition feels sooner than expected. 

In the morning much of the smoke had cleared replaced by gray clouds. I typically don't mind missing trail miles when required since I've long ago accepted the trail as merely a facilitator for adventure but I did really want to hike Oregon so I figured I'd give it another days effort. Texting Boujie of my plans I took off for an anticipated 30 mile day. With cool weather and cleaner air I made pretty good progress in the first few hours. However, sometime around early afternoon the smoke returned and with it discomfort in my lungs and head. I decided it best to take the next opportunity to hitch toward Bend, where the majority of those I know in the area have been skipping to. Still 17 miles from a main road that might be this evening or more likely tomorrow morning. But I will first try the less busy road just miles ahead. The road turned out to be less remote than I expected yet cars were not stopping for me. Eventually an already passed pickup truck made a u-turn 300 feet past where I stood. It turns out the couple inside had begun the PCT this year and gotten off at mile 500. Seeing my PCT badge in the rear view they felt responsible to turn around despite there being no obvious available seat. After moving a bit around and introducing me to their cautious dog Sam I hopped into the front bench alongside Mercedes and Coby. Initially hitching to the main highway toward Bend I decided to join them in their trek to Crater Lake so at least I could see by car something I've for so long worked towards. Within 45 minutes we arrived to the place I'd otherwise arrive in three days time time. That always kills me. A few moments of picture taking and we're back in the car. I ask them to drop me at Chemult which is as close to Bend as they can get me before turning off toward Eugene.

Being a drive through town along a direct road north I suspect a hitch shouldn't be too much trouble. I'm wrong. Hikers who had arrived before me testify to the difficulty in getting cars to stop. I wait a bit and then head to the gas station to try another tactic. But nobody there seems friendly enough to ask so I instead just stand aside and observe. Suddenly I'm standing between the store clerk and a man named Carl who she's shouting at if he'd like free food. He apparently says no because she then turns to me and asks the same. Unlike Carl I answer yes please and follow her inside to accept the handfuls of somewhat appetizing food from the warmer. I return with these goodies to the other hikers, offering up some. Still no success with the drivers. I go back to the convenience store for a soda. That too the clerk gifts to me. I must be looking more disheveled than usual. As I'm leaving the store I notice the two hikers talking with a driver. I hustle over to see about sliding in but learn he's not heading to Bend but up toward trail where these guys are going. Now I'm left alone to hitch with the sun going down. Not wanting to be in town after dark and knowing the Amtrak leaves to Bend at noon tomorrow I begin making my way to a campground outside of town. With my back turned toward oncoming traffic I leave my thumb out just in case. It works. A few minutes of walking and a car pulls over to ask if I'm hiking the PCT. I hop in and immediately know this hour long ride is going to be a good one. Bec is a triple crowner, having completed all three major big trails in the USA, turned adventure guide, leading expeditions in the area. Also after only skiing for 4 years has dropped in on 22 of the biggest peaks in Washington. We spend the ride shifting between deep conversation, present silence, and boppin tunes. By the time I exit the car it feels like I'm saying goodbye to an old friend. 

These side adventures paired with a yes man attitude have led to some of my most important experiences "on trail". I've been wondering how to implement some of this magic into a more every day environment. I want this trip to live on but fear I will struggle to balance the two worlds. How to go from living with 100% intention to a world where nearly everything can be taken for granted. Here water is strictly a source of life at a fundamental level, but elsewhere water lives in a faucet and front lawn sprinkler. Electricity flows everywhere powering a world of tools reaching far beyond function, empowering unprecedented control over the natural world. Aesthetics overpower functionality. It's as if I've seen the alternative to a highly manufactured world. In many regards I just have more appreciation for our ingenuity but in other ways a strong feeling of sadness for what we left behind. And oddly while we've simplified our processes we seem to have complicated our psyche. This trail has taught me that to let go is really to take control. But I'm not sure I'll continue to remember what that means. Will I be able to implement this level of intentionality and presence in my other ventures? Only time will tell but I'll certainly make an effort.

Bec dropped me off at the house Bougie had rented with some others. Still on a high from the days activities I shared the stories of how I got there with them over some ice cream. By the time we were all caught up and ready for bed some hours had gone by. After a much needed shower I climbed into bed well beyond exhausted.

I'm excited to hike again. Oregon is a new chapter in this journey. After running out of water prematurely I walked the road to reach the next source quicker. There a couple offer me a ride to the restaurant a few miles ahead which I kindly refuse in favor of walking. Before getting to the restaurant I find a shower in a state campground which I am all to glad to utilize. Freshly cleaned I take the mile and a half side trail toward fresh food. Throughout the day the smoke has been bothering me off and on. At the restaurant I learn of another fire closure just north of Crater Lake. I speak with some other hikers who feel similarly uncertain but will reassess at the next main road junction some thirty miles ahead. I call Bougie to learn about her plans. She and a friend are renting a car to jump up to Bend. They offer me a ride out of the trees the next morning if I want. Still uncertain I accept. 

After getting off the phone with Bougie I meet some new hikers who had just self evacuated from the fires. Hearing first hand their experience made the already real circumstances all the more so. They planned to hike as far as possible through Oregon and invited me to join them for it. Without much certainty either way I decide to camp with them the night and decide in the morning. The uncertainty takes a toll on me making sleep difficult. I want to hike Oregon but understand it to be potentially unsafe in the smoke. I'm afraid that my reasons for skipping are not pure given my guilty desire to conclude this trip. Maybe morning will bring clarity.

A 300 acre fire in Seid Valley last night turned into one of more than 30,000 acres by midday today. This means the trail between Etna and Ashland Oregon is closed, with those hikers already on trail being evacuated. As is typically the case with unanticipated circumstances, panic spread as quickly as the fire which had caused it. Oddly I heard no discussion about the situation from the perspective of the people living, and working within the fire zone, rather it was all chatter about how to get around it and the inconvenience of not being able to hike across the border. I understand the frustration but it's uncomfortable to observe how unconcerned most were beyond they're own selfish objectives. But the source must be in our immense focus which I do appreciate. Anyway with more and more hikers coming into town I began to feel overwhelmed despite the joy in catching up with so many old trail friends. When someone asked if I'd like a ride with them around the fire I jumped at the opportunity to get on trail a bit ahead of the bubble.

I was dropped off at the Callahan Lodge and Restaurant where I charged up, rested, and ate. Outside the sky began to turn red from the fire and ash rain fell. Uncertain of where to camp for the night I decided to make a decision after dinner. When I returned to the lobby a stranger asked if I needed to go anywhere, inviting me to stay at his house back in California. I decided I'd prefer to get on trail to get an early start. So he dropped me a mile down the road where the trail picked back up.

Not one day has gone by on trail where I haven’t felt intimately the harsh implications of California's extended droughts and wildfires. Today I crossed the border into Oregon by car. A massive milestone done awkwardly. Yet while slightly anticlimactic for having come 1600 miles, it has me thinking of the many who’s lives are directly impacted by these all to frequent circumstances. The families leaving their homes uncertain of their future. The firefighters risking their lives to save those of others. I continue to hike not with indifference to these facts but inspiration from them. Hiking can at times feel like a purely selfish act yet I’m committed to make it otherwise.  From recognizing the kindness bestowed upon strangers by strangers, to a newfound respect for Mother Nature’s incredible ways, this trail continues to teach me integral lessons about humanity, and the ecosystem we reside in. So here’s a humble thank you to the magic that’s gotten me this far. Let’s keep this going!

Continuing with the theme of putting experience above trail miles I took the treacherous forest road toward Callahan with Charlie, who I met at the junction. Along the final stretch of road just before the town containing a church, post office, and bar, a pickup truck with a camper painted like a cow veers across the road to pull into the opposite shoulder. A man jumps out asking if we are hikers and need a ride. A bit skeptical of the situation I say we're just walking till Callahan. He responds he's got three hikers in the truck who he's bringing to Etna. I wonder but don't ask if they are alive and go up front to investigate. Sure enough there are two hikers up front and another in the bed of the truck beneath the camper. So Charlie and I look at each other and decide to hop in for the ride. Yes men.

The back of the truck is hot. So hot that breathing is a challenge. But watching the map I know it's not more than 15 minutes until we reach Etna. Once in town though our driver figured it appropriate to give the two up front a full tour of town. So we spent the next few minutes boiling while the truck made k turn after k turn going up and down every street in town. Eventually we were let free in the parking lot of a distillery restaurant. Naturally craving real food the 5 of us went in for a nice meal and drinks. From there I went to the park where hikers are invited ti sleep and shower. There are already dozens of hikers here, a few of whom are old friends I'm excited to reunite with. After a few drinks and a shower I spend time setting up and catching up. It's well after midnight by the time I'm in bed. I expect tomorrow will be a slow day for me spent well in town. 

Getting back up the hill to return to the PCT after parting ways with Benji was a massive struggle. Benji returns to his new journey as I continue with mine. It was nice to have him a part of the hike for some time. Maybe it will help bridge the gap between this world and home. The terrain is uneasy today, and the heat is not helping. Mid day I'm rewarded with a swim in a warm glacier lake. I'm calling it relatively early today leaving just 63 miles to the next town. I'll try to get up early for a big day tomorrow. 

A trippy day beside a more remote lake found a mile from last nights camp. We did little physical activity but lots mentally. Lounging in the shade there was lots of time to observe and reflect more deeply than usual. I realize I've grown nostalgic for the early days of trail and am more and more seeing the experience of thru hiking as a grand metaphor for life. A life with immense intention.

Pushing out of Shasta early Benji and I had 15 miles to walk to reach our planned destination for an on trail zero. It turned out to be an incredibly challenging day despite the low mileage due to intense heat and Sierra level climbs. 14 miles in we left the trail to cross over toward a lake we will stay by. I particularly enjoy exploring other trails finding a heightened sense of excitement doing so. The lake turned out to be more like a pond than expected and less remote too. But the views are spectacular with a larger lake below and Mt. Shasta beyond that. We will camp the night here and decide in the morning where to spend the day. 

An unplanned zero accepted during the mid day heat at the laundromat. Even after taking late checkout we had to rush to clear our room. Knowing that Benj had his call at 10:30 meant late wake up for all of us and I took the chance to catch up on journaling during his call. After Benji, Steven, Bougie, and I packed up and head toward downtown for food. It was near noon by the time we sat down at the same restaurant Benji and I had enjoyed last night with Jeff and Ann. Sometime during our meal Crumbles joined for the company. Again we enjoyed the food and conversation leading well into the afternoon. At some point it was learned that Benji had spent time in the town in Alaska that our waitress grew up, leading to a great discussion and invitation by her for any of us to visit sometime when she returns. Immensely full we stopped into the gear store, for me to exchang socks before laundry. The next 2 hours we spent between the laundromat and shopping at the health food store across the street. When laundry finished we head over to the motel room Crumbles had reserved. Inside the ten by ten room was a queen size bed and just enough floor space surrounding to fit three sleeping pads. I'm truly exhausted nearly all the time now and appreciate the opportunity to do nothing. This and the dent this town has already made in my wallet were enough to convince me to withhold from going out for dinner. Once I settled in I didn't leave the room for the rest of the evening, eventually falling asleep at the foot of the bed. 

I planned to walk 20 or more miles today but the trail had other plans. When Benji and I got to our intended point for breakfast along the Squaw River the heat convinced us to siesta early. During the 4 hours we spent hiding from the sun we joked about asking day hikers for a ride to Shasta. Looking at the map I realized we could walk 10 miles north to the town of McCloud arriving in time for dinner and hitch over to Shasta in the morning. Though this route brings us off the PCT I've already decided taking such side adventures are as much a valued part of this experiment as any mile on trail. But I told Benji that I wanted to walk the road rather than find a hitch, that is unless a hitch found us. One of the great lessons of this trail has been to stay open to accepting circumstance even when it may appear to conflict with a preconceived plan. As we began packing up for our road walk a man we had exchanged nicety's with a few hours earlier came walking down the bank toward us. Then as if queued by a stage director he says "hey I'll be heading to Shasta for a concert and I thought I'd see if you needed anything". It took me a moment to respond being taken back by the odd but at this point unsurprising synchronicity. Smirking I asked if he had room for two and went on to enlighten him to the magic he had just sparked. A few moments later Benji and I were in the back seat of Jeff and Ann's Prius heading toward Shasta. Earlier on in this hike I'd have felt a strong sense of guilt for skipping trail miles with a hitch but I've since learned the importance of these unpredictable experiences. In Shasta the four of us got dinner at their favorite restaurant engaged in interesting conversation throughout. Jeff has been involved in animation for much of his career after a transition from sailing, and is now working on a project of his own. Ann works to improve city bike initiatives in an effort to reduce the impact cars have on our environment. Together since first meeting in San Francisco some years ago, they now live in Redding and like to spend their summers dispersed camping along the river we came from. After dinner we head to a free concert in the park along with much the rest of Shasta. There in the deep lush grass, with Mt. Shasta the epic backdrop, we chatted, made new friends, people watched, and danced until the sun and all its warmth disappeared. From there Jeff and Ann dropped us at our motel reserved by Bougie who'd arrived by foot an hour earlier. We exchanged info, took a group picture, and bid our sincerest farewell's with respect to the meaningfulness despite the brevity of our time spent together. We had a good laugh sharing the story of our day with Bougie and Steven, and then listening to theirs. Despite the hour Benji and I decided to make a run to the grocery store for some late night shopping. Crossing the train tracks and beating locked doors by a just few minutes we managed our resupply clearing up tomorrow for other activities. It was a few hours later that we turned the lights off for much needed sleep. Sleep which in the comforts of a bed came easy.


The plan to wake up early failed. Hitting the trail at 7:30 I moved quickly to make it the 16 miles to the river before the hottest part of the day. Along the trail a buck with massive antlers stood ground as I approached. With a sheer drop to my left and steep rock to my right we stood looking at each other for a bit before I understood I'd need to accommodate him if we were to reach any conclusion. So I stepped back a few feet and scaled the rocks to open the path for passing. Slowly but confidently he walked past my position crouched in the rocks continuing on his way along the trail south.

At 1:20 I arrived to a disappointingly muddy river. Burrita and I took shelter under the bridge and expected to eat lunch there but having no water and unprepared to run the murky McCloud water through my filter I went in search of something better. Down the path I found it. So I returned to Burrita inviting her to pack her bag and follow me to paradise. There we ate lunch and swam in the clear water. Expecting the others to arrive soon and with Burrita heading on I set some markers for them to find me at the stream. 4 hours later they still hadn't arrived. I had time to catch up on some journaling but got antsy and figured they must have passed me by. Asking around however I learned that Benji was still back up trail. When they finally did arrive one by one it was already 5:30. Reconvened we decided to hike two more miles until dinner and another 5 after to camp. It was well past sunlight when we arrived there. Exhausted we pitched tent and head straight to bed. Tomorrow is our final push toward the road to Shasta, either arriving then or taking the early morning bus Monday.

In an effort to avoid the 100 degree heat I'm pushing for the majority of my miles to be before noon. This means returning to an early morning schedule. The alarm went off at 4:30 but unable to open my eyes I snoozed it until 5:30. I woke Bougie, Crumbles, and Sunshine, and was hiking by 6:00. The miles were pretty cool and easy with both Sunshine and me making good time. Views of Mt. Shasta were spectacular. 

At 2:00 pm we stopped at the second water source of the day for a longer siesta, having already completed 18 miles. For the others this is typically a full day so I am clearly pushing them a bit beyond their comfort but we don't have much of an option if we want to get to Shasta by Monday in time for Benjis call. While at lunch LSD arrived and joined us for a rest. Leaving the siesta we planned to camp 8 miles down trail near the next water bringing us to a total of 26 miles, the most yet for many. When Crumbles and I arrived she broke into tears after I told her how far we had come. Sharing a hug she exclaimed that she hadn't even thought 20 miles possible and here she was with two badly hurting feet having hiked far past her personal best. On trail we get to learn how much more capable we are than previously known. We empower our minds and body to live beyond our own preconceived limitations. It was a nice moment to share with someone who until yesterday was an utter stranger. 

After dropping our bags LSD and I took the overgrown side trail a half mile to the nearby stream. There I spotted some fresh bear scat moments after hearing what sounded to be a growl. So as I scooped water from beneath the brush LSD stood watch. It's odd how much more wild it feels when just a few feet beyond the trail we call home.

Back at camp we made dinner and ate in the dark. Everyone is exhausted but with good spirits. Within moments of laying down I'm asleep. 

We woke early and packed up quickly to leave our campsite before the morning shift workers arrived to see us crawl from our sleeping bags. Immediately after grabbing a small but delicious breakfast at the coffee shop Benji and I head over to the Post Office not yet visited but allegedly holding our package. Frustratingly but unsurprisingly they claim to not have it since it had been sent over this morning to the branch we visited yesterday. Laughing at the ridiculousness of the situation we hopped on a bus back to were we began the day before. Confidently explaining to our friend behind the desk of the facts he kindly responded that it's not actually the case and the stand in attendant at the other branch had failed to properly look for our box merely dismissing his responsibilities by sending us back here. Throwing our hands in the air Benji and I went to sit on the curb to discuss what next. At first agitated we helped each other clear our perspectives and accept this as another step along the trail toward Canada. Just another challenge to embrace and overcome. The primary problem now is my shoes are worn down to their skeletal structure with rips, little padding or cushioning and at places even cloth. My feet have been hurting as a result of all this and I'd been counting on ditching these 600 mile shoes here. However after calling every outfitter in town and checking multiple websites it's become apparent the shoes being held hostage by the USPS were my only hopes of doing so. So we decided to return to the other post office and do whatever it took, plead or stink, until the shoes were found. Upon returning the line had grown out the door, unreasonably long for a single worker. But we waited. Eventually reaching the desk I just barely opened my mouth to present my case when he cut me off saying he'll go check again. Minutes later he returned empty handed but with some good news. Someone is back there looking for it he says followed by an emotionless "next".

Out from the back came another worker with some questions about the package. We show him all of the information available to us and to our suprise he asks for affirmation that the information provided by the usps is indeed correct. We tell him as far as we can tell it is as and he heads back to search. Twice he returns with boxes addressed to unfamiliar names to confirm that we got the naming correct. This goes on for over an hour. Bored I begin walking around the lobby peeking through cracks in the P.O. Boxes at the back of house. An employee loading mail into these boxes asks if he can help with something so I tell him I'm just curious while waiting on them to find my shoes. From here we begin chatting about the trail and he shares his views on the burn zone which Benji and I are currently deciding what to do about. We chat for a bit before he says he'd go help look for the shoes himeself but he can't leave the mail boxes unlocked and unattended. But he says one moment and shouts toward his coworker to help me. She responds that the other employee is already looking for it and not to bother her. I laugh. Then eureka he truly was looking for it since I hear him shout "I found it" from behind the boxes. He comes into view smile as big as can be, package in hand. It takes a few more moments of chatting with his coworker before finally delivering the shoes with pride. I immediately open the box to get the old shoes off and new shoes on my feet. As I'm throwing out the garbage Benji is taking pictures of what might be the most exciting change of shoes in my lifetime. Noticing that I'm throwing out the trash the postal worker loading mail asks what I intend to do with my old shoes. Toss them out of course I respond, they are just barely a viable shoe at this point. Can I have them he asks. Taken back I try to explain what's visibly obvious but he interjects that shoes are shoes and he'll make 'em work or donate them. With nothing to loose and an appreciation for his enthusiasm to recycle I gladly hand him the shoes and ask for him to send me a pic of where they end up.

Having had enough of the Post Office for a long while Benji and I head out for some lunch. Pizza has been on my mind so we stop at the New York Style Pizza shop. Together we eat nearly a full cicilian pie, knocking us into a deep food coma. The joys of eating are far greater on trail. In fact nearly all joys are heightened on trail. But eating lots always seems like the right thing to do when considering the caloric deficit we are constantly battling. Finally we get up from our seats to head back to trail. On the way to the highway for a hitch I stop into a music store to inquire about a harmonica. Without even sitting up from his position sprawled across a couch the sales rep says no. 

We waited at the on-ramp for nearly an hour roasting under the sun as hundreds of cars passed us by. It's a vulnerable position to rely on others for transportation to and from trail. Most drivers look for a few seconds trying to make sense of the un-familiarity of the circumstances, but it all happens so quick that unless giving a ride was already in their plans it's unlikely it will get there. Frustrated and without options I sit down hoping that the one who does have it in their plans will be understanding of my lack of thumb. Then from across the street comes a man with a notebook offering to drive us to where we need to go so long as we can get him the cash from an atm for which he'll PayPal us. Dean continues to explain that he lost his wallet and his car is broken requiring more gas even though it already has enough. We agree and begin the long walk up the road toward his car doing the exchange along the way. After 15 minutes of walking we agree to wait back at the Safeway to be picked up after he takes care of his car. While waiting Benji and I stop into a gear shop to exchange my Darn Toughs. The lady there being either overly friendly or drunk is happy to help. 
So how does this work I ask. Do you have to send a box of dirty socks back and get refunded by Darn Tough? Yeah exactly she responds as Benji comes by and asks the same question receiving the same response. Then she tosses the socks in my direction proclaiming that'll be 0 dollars as the socks land with a thud on the floor beside me. Want me to throw you my dirty old ones I ask jokingly. I don't need em she responds. I like to keep old gear around so I'd keep them if I were you. But didn't you just say ... never mind, thanks for the help. Yeah no problem. If you need to fill up your water bottle you can she repeats for the third time since arriving. I'm alright but thank you again I respond as we head to Safeway.

In Safeway I bought a dozen donuts thinking I'd do some trail magic at the trail head. When Dean comes back around we hop in and the car stalls. It will stall another 16 times in the eight miles we drive back to trail. He says it took four days to get back from Reno, a trip that should take no longer than a couple of hours, with traffic. The damn car thinks it has no gas he claims. Then continues to explain how his other car was taken by the cops but even after sending it airborn over the center way of a highway it had no problems. Frustrated with the continued stalling as three lanes of cars and semis pass us by he exclaims he's got better things to be doing like gambling and screwing. Finally arriving at the trail head I offer him a donut and he offers his property to camp on anytime we need. We exchange thank you's and head our respective ways.

There is only one hiker at the trail head and it's Minivan. I'm glad to see him again, it's been a long while. He happily accepts a donut and the three of us head back on trail. Still holding a large box of donuts I can't find an ideal spot to leave them so I decide to hike them out. I figure I'll find enough hikers to be left with just the box by nightfall. When we get to the top of the 4 mile climb I'm still carrying the majority of the donuts. I've had worse. Our campsite atop the cliff has a beautiful sunset and enough wind to reduce the mosquitoes to just bearable conditions. After eating another I place the donuts in a tree with the rest of my food and set up camp on a flat rock. Today has been absolutely weird. I'm glad to be back on trail.



It's been a while since waking up under a roof with access to a fridge and counter full of food. The coffee was already brewing by the time I got up which was not late by any standards. I took my first cup on the deck with some bread, butter, and jam, along with fresh fruit.  In the meantime as the rest of the house came to life we began to clean our tracks. Working together the house looked good enough for Crush to begin shuttling people back to trail. Two shifts later I hopped into the car to be dropped at the Trukee post office.

Initially meant to be a quick pickup it was clear from the beginning that receiving my much needed shoes would not be simple. After looking for my box the postal worker informed Benji and I that all general delivery packages are held at the cities other branch. However after calling them he added that since they are understaffed it has not yet been processed despite arriving two days ago. Without much else we could do we resided to stay the night hoping to grab the shoes tomorrow. So after resupplying we sat outside the grocery store for a few hours unsure where we may end up for the night. Sometime toward the evening I got chatting with the guys working the nearby sports store and learned about a street fair downtown that night which one of them offered to drop us off at after work. We accepted the offer and advice of where we might be able to post up for the night after. We figured we'd figure the night out when it came. Which we did. While at the fair rock show another guy we were chatting with enlightened us to an ideal spot behind some local warehouses beside the river. We walked around some more observing the crowd and talking with older couple managing a booth who shared their story of dragging a mattress out back to stargaze some nights, reaffirming the truth that adventure can be truly found anywhere. After a large dinner of Mexican food we walked the mile down the road for a sketchy nights sleep. Days like today remind me of all the nuances to hiking that lie beyond the trail itself.

In theory a short day but in reality super long. The weather is warming up again as we go north, and the water becomes more sparse. Following the ridge lines ups and downs toward Trukee we tried to keep the breaks to a minimum with the understanding that at the road was a ski lodge offering free beer to hikers. Neither of us care too much for beer typically but even what's normally unappetizing has a way of drawing excitement when 4 days into the backcountry. But walking through such a beautiful section I made sure to pause at times, finding presence.

At the ski lodge I got my beer as well as a sandwhich and milkshake, joining a large group of friends who arrived at the same time. Having not yet considered where we'd spend the night it was awesome to learn that we could stay at Crush's house. Crush was there for a few days off trail for a wedding and was happily hosting hikers throughout the house for the few days prior. We arrived in time for the last night. At the house we took showers, did laundry, and ate a super nice homemade dinner. Its always amazing to spend some time off trail with a group of hikers who collectively enjoy the small comforts of life. Even in the domestic chores required to bring the house back to order there was the same grace and camaraderie as I remember from Big Bear.

Two miles in we took a long breakfast at the parking lot ultimately receiving a pinch of trail magic from day hikers who as self proclaimed moms felt obliged to share some of their days goodies. The next section was beautiful and challenging. Unbelievable wildflowers painted the trail in a multitude of colors and scents. From bright purple to deep yellow the ridge line trail is nothing short of a spectacle. Once back in the trees Benji and I took a near 4 hour lunch break in the shade beside a stream. My longest lunch by a long shot. Slowing down leaves far more room for conversation and relaxation but also once accepted, ease of mind. I did the next 6 miles with seemingly little effort despite it being a three thousand foot incline. At the top was a ski lift station seen uniquely without snow. We hiked only a mile further to camp 12 miles from Donner Pass Road where we complete this stretch tomorrow. It's nice to hike with someone so familiar, in an unfamiliar way.

Knowing that Benji and I are hiking together removes some of the pressure found while hiking with trail mates when you find differing paces. This is the nature of "hiking your own hike", sometimes it means sacrificing companionship. For the time being at least finding a balance that works for the both of us has been relatively simple. Much of the day I hike a bit ahead, taking breaks every so often to let Benji catch up, until we finally take lunch or pitch camp together. Even though I'm totaling nearly 10 less miles a day than I was the previous few weeks I'm no less tired at the end of the day. It turns out walking 17 miles is just as tiring as 27 leading me to understand the challenge of hiking as a curve that on my personal current scale plateaus around 17 to only climb again near 27. 

Looking back to my own start on trail I realize that Benji will be working harder than many in a possibly more challenging terrain, but he understood this when coming out and seems to appreciate the challenge. A couple miles after getting back on trail, town burritos still in our bellies, we swam in what's been one of the nicer trail lakes, Lake Aloha. Then we hiked 2 miles on the wrong trail missing the junction while distracted by conversation with a farmer from Oregon who didn't seem too pleased by this discovery. Either way we made it to the top of the pass just as darkness was settling in, safe from the bears but not mosquitoes. It's really nice to be hiking with someone so familiar as it is to be influenced by some fresh perspective and appreciation.

Waking up on a zero means finding the best spot for fresh breakfast. We chose a nearby diner called Ernie's. Non-ironically the other option was Bert's. After breakfast we stopped for coffee and smoothies before handling our resupply needs. Back at the campground before noon there was plenty of time to do laundry and still take the rest of the day easy.  As I was putting my head down for a nap Benji called letting me know he had arrived. Even still we lounged around the campground for a good while before heading out for some food and other small supplies. After returning to camp I noticed my bear can feet from where I had placed it, dirty and scratched. Clearly the bears had stopped by. Then I noticed Brightside and Prarie Dogs tent collapsed. A bear had gotten to the food accidentally left in their tent leaving behind gnawed gashes in the mesh. At first when I tried to inform them of the situation they took it as a joke but after some time they came around. Soon after the bear returned for the rest of their food which Benji and I promptly chased off. This bear activity in a city campground was far more than anything I'd witnessed in the backcountry. Eventually things calmed down and we were able to get to sleep in preparation for Benjis first day on trail, to which I arranged a ride with a trail angel for 9am.

A long long day to Tahoe. The first 15 miles where nearly all pain. My left achilles is swollen and hurting, also where I have my first bad blister in 450 miles. But if there's one thing I know by now it's that pain can be overlooked and arriving is just the result of a series of small steps. So on I went distracted by the teachings of the book Algorithms To Live By, most of which I completed by the time I arrived at the highway to Tahoe some 29 miles from where I crawled off a boulder early this morning. Looking as bad as I smell after a week without a real shower, hiking 90 miles in just the last three, my hopes for a bring a car from 80 mph to me as a guest of honor, were slim. So I ordered an expensive Uber. 20 minutes later and the eta kept increasing. Maybe i should just camp here and try again in the morning I thought just moments before a car pulled off and began working things around their car to clear a seat. Without hesitation I assured these beautiful trail angels that I'd fit just fine. Arriving at the Tahoe Valley Campground I reached immediately for the free and hot showers, watching 184 miles of sweat leave my body. The next order of business was to grab some food from the nearest pizza shop, returning just in time to catch the end of Cast Away at the campground movie showing, alongside Brightside and Grumby. Finally getting into bed around midnight sleep was just taking me when a black bear some 30 feet away caused a big commotion. After enough shouting from campers the bear meandered toward different parts of the campground letting things die down for intervals of time. Throughout the night car alarms and screaming people made it clear that I'd been backcountry for some time. Then at 5 am a shrieking man jostled everyone awake but just long enough to wonder why that had been their tactic to chase of the bear. Well as we later learned it had been less a tactic than a reflex since a few feet away a hiker woke to the bear licking his face and in response threw himself and his voice into the air. Frightening the bear it clawed at his now airborn sleeping bag tearing it before again heading onward. Needless to say I was among many who didn't sleep very well.

Well I found them. Just two miles into the day I found Big Chills still at camp. The day went by very differently than the past few weeks. Far easier to get distracted in conversation and be freed of the burden of decision. Then we got some awesome trail magic of Costco hot dogs, snacks, and cold drinks. Around mile 25 my feet were really hurting and I had to slow down arriving in camp a bit after everyone else. Over all its good to be back with friends with more perspective on hiking solo. Oh and I set a new record by hiking 33 miles. Though not without feeling it. The plan is to do 30 tomorrow into Tahoe yet im not sure if I will feel good enough to do what's not necessary. Sleep. 

One of the best hiking days yet. I woke early after a somewhat restless night frightened by the mosquitoes lurking above my face, to try and get to Kennedy Meadows Resort by midday. After a few miles of easy hiking I stopped for a big breakfast, finishing up what food I had left. Soon there after was a massive climb along a beautiful barren mountainside reminiscent of the desert which in an an odd and unexpected way I miss. Although tough I really do enjoy the intensity of these strenuous efforts. It's the only time while hiking where I feel fully engaged. Mind and body.  From the top was a long but extremely pretty and dynamic ways to the road. During this stretch were some sketchy snow patches where crampons would have been nice. A few miles before reaching the road I noticed Afterparty talking on the phone so I switched on my service to learn that Devorah had a baby boy three days ago! I'm truly disconnected. 

It was really nice to see familiar faces at Kennedy Meadows Resort after so long alone in the wilderness. But I didn't stay long. After a few frozen burritos, an ice cream, laundry, and charging up, I left to be back on trail less than 4 hours after catching a hitch out. Already having walked 16 miles today I figured I'd put in another 5 or so before feeling finished. But it turns out I had energy for more. At times practically running I managed another 12 miles before dark. I thought I might catch up with some friends I know are nearby but they must be a few miles ahead. Tomorrow I should reach them. It's tough knowing that there are people both ahead and behind I'd love to be with, requiring me to either speed up or slow down, either way a sacrifice. At least for now I'll speed up since Benji meets me in Lake Tahoe in four days. Another nice bit of news I learned today. 

These legs carried me 1000 miles. Thats nuts. I don't really understand what that means. I can comprehend 100 or even 300 miles but 1000 not so much even though its past. Well it's a cool idea but without much meaning in itself. The last two months of individual experiences are so rich I'd be a fool to think this arbitrary milestone holds any more importance than any other. A reminder that goals and milestones should serve to facilitate a desired journey more than a destination. It's easy to forget in the day to day of hiking that Canada is a destination enabling the day to day experience of hiking. So here's to 1000 miles of individually important experiences, and to 1600 more!  

It really is just simplified living. Today I walked twenty miles during the span of 11 hours during which time I stopped on occasion to eat. Upon arrival to camp I pitched tent, went to the river for a bath, and now the only thing on my mind is a heightened sense of appreciation for this thin mesh wall standing between me and a swarm of agitated mosquitoes. In a few minutes I'll be asleep here, loosely nestled among the trees between a rushing river and the cliffs it carved. Tired from the days exertion and undistracted from the many noises of regular life, my mind wanders through day dreams and observations reminiscent of childhood. 

This section has been entirely remote. Even the ressuplies are backcountry at occasional general stores. I've been seeing less hikers, thereby spending even more time in solitude. The few people around are previously unfamiliar and my energy toward building new relationships has dwindled. Without friends to spend some of the time with the blurring days are more commonly remembered as a a continuous process. But then in this solitude thoughts are given the liberty of time. Im often engaged in almost singular thoughts for hours at a time, much of which seems to be a release of random noise but some of which is not. I think I expected there to be more "philosophy" or profound mental experiences when relieved of the overhead required of typical social and other mental preoccupations, but as seems to be the case with everything else, beneath it all things are quite simple. Maybe that's the beauty of it. Remove layers of noise until you discover a simple truth which matters. Throughout this trip I am constantly asking myself what in my bag is important and what is just unnecessary weight, shedding that which answers the latter. I ask my omnipresent thoughts the same. Through this I've indirectly been realizing some things which are important to me that I previously thought weren't and visa versa. Other times I'm merely adjusting my perceptions to better reflect an honest opinion. Few of which come as a suprise once viewed in this raw environment. Reaching this level of intellectual honesty though is not something I could simulate under previous circumstances. The undistracted mind roams more freely and with less noise inviting the observing consciousness to a more honest reflection of itself. It's a step toward mental freedom that I presume borders a meditation. Maybe if only I left the judgement aside. 

Sleep matters. Last nights early night helped clear my mind and bring a fresh perspective. The walk into Toulmme Meadows was pleasant. There I got some breakfast and coffee. Then I lightened my load. It made a huge difference. The day was still somewhat more challenging than before Mammoth but much better than just days prior. Lesson being, sleep. 

Today each step was an above average effort. Three times I found myself off trail. The first just moments after starting the day, requiring a long tough scramble to rejoin. The others had less of a consequence yet were curiously out of character. I think I might just need some good sleep. Later in the day I stopped to rest beside a river and dozed off for a few minutes which helped. Coincidentally I learned 6 miles before my destination for the day that camping is prohibited for the following 10 miles. So rather than hike a 21 mile day I landed an early night.

It's a low day so this probably holds less crediability but I'm finding less and less inspiration from what should otherwise be awe inspiring. I spend more time thinking about where I'd like to be than being where I am. 

Slow slow day yet surprisingly made it 15 miles. Woke at 7 naturally. Repacked my food eating a bunch and discarding some. Hiked slowly and with frequent breaks. It was like day two all over again. Finally after a late lunch and rest did things began to pick up. I tried to fish for dinner but couldn't catch anything. I'll need to put an effort in during mid day while more energized. 

As always I woke up at 5:30 am even on an off day. But I wasn't going to let the bed go unused so I stayed there journaling and uploading photos for a while. Getting up to shower and bring back some coffee and breakfast from the shop next door.

After checkout I began the days chores. First up I got some fishing line and flies from the nearby sport shop. The sales person there introduced me to the ultra compact and lightweight Tenkara rods which if not for their price tag are the ideal solution for my needs. In it's stead I'll opt to just use my hiking pole as a drop in rod.

From there I went to food shop at Grocery Outlet. Hungry and impatient to probably calculate the proper strategy, I left with far to much heavy food. Packing it all out took a good while. Hauling the bag back onto my back has been a challenge since. 

Finally before catching the three buses back to the trail head I printed out my temporary fishing license at the local business center. Back at trail I reconnected with Bandit and Robbie on their way to town. 



The bus into Mammoth was more of a hassle than anticipated, arriving late and requiring two transfers. One nice thing about walking across the country is nearly never waiting around. One is almost always doing something with purpose be it walking eating or resting. Simple purpose but purpose nonetheless. That is until a resupply is in need.

At the pharmacy the young pharmacist took one look at my toe and said I definitely need antibiotics for its infection. Without any other option I visited the hospital to get the necessary prescription. There the doctor took his time to clean things up and encourage healing. Providing valuable insight and education to better equip me to care for the wounds, he believes to be caused by ingrown toenail's, further. Walking in to the er for an infected ingrown toenail felt wrong and a little inconsiderate of the staffs time. Surely there are far more pressing needs to take their attention. Yet not once did was that impression bestowed on me. The nurses and doctor patiently took their time to care for my minor injury with a care that would have Robert Pirsig shout quality.

Upon recommendation from the nurse I tried checking into the Mammoth Lakes Inn but found it was too expensive. Informing the clerk of this he invited me to use their spa and public space either way. So I soaked a while in the hot tub and spent some minutes in the sauna, dropping him a tip before heading over to the Motel 6 for a less luxurious but cheaper nights sleep. 

Earlier in the day I had seen an advertisement for a Shakespeare performance in the park which after checking into the hotel checked out, nearly two hours late. Just to see something different. After a few brief minutes of culture I walked back up the street to join Sandals, Crocs, Zombie, and Follow Up at the brewery. From there we went across the street to a local pub for some more drinks, pool, and foosball. I finally got to sleep at midnight reminiscent of the times before the sun dictated my sleep schedule. Town days are exhausting too. 

And it was. I made it the 26 miles to Mammoth today despite my body being extra fatigued from yesterday's exertion. Yesterday the last few miles where toughest, today each but the last miles were equally tough despite it being a relatively easy grade. At mile 20 for the day I stopped for dinner, the last of my food, and when I began hiking again got a fresh wave of energy that had me practically running the last 6 miles. Lesson being, eat. 

I've been hiking and camping solo since Bishop. The days can get a bit more boring but I really enjoy the autonomy. Being solo means better listening and responding to my needs without compromise. Self care. Like it seems to be with everything else, what's good in one regard finds balance in another. In this case full autonomy means frequent solitude. Not inherently bad but at times lonely. When I arrived in Reds Meadows I learned that I had just missed a large group of friends by a matter of hours. Still here are Riddles, Tap Dance, and Pantry. We'll camp together just outside the resort. If I continue at this pace I'll probably catch up with others soon but I won't make a concerted effort. Tomorrow I'll go into Mammoth Lakes to resupply, possibly staying the night to recover. 

I just walked 30 miles through the high Sierras in one day. Wow do my feet hurt. This morning upon waking I decided I'd try to reach the arbitrary milestone of hiking 30 miles in one day. Many people attempt this in the desert or flats of Oregon, yet I figured if I can do it here in one of the more technical parts of the trail I am prepared for anything that the trail throws my way. With the onset of my "trail legs" I figured it a good time to test my limits. I genuinely wasn't sure if I'd make it. Only at mile 27 did I commit without a doubt. And it was the longest 3 miles of my life. Its less so about the number thirty and more so about the empowerment of reaching a desired goal. During the thirteen hours it took to hike thirty miles I traversed an awe inspiring world of beauty and felt nearly every emotion while doing so. I hiked through dense woods with massive ancient sequoias, marched across meadows of flowing grass, climbed up and over snow capped mountains, swam in a frigid glacier lake, hopped across countless streams, wadded across rivers, swatted at hundreds of blood thirsty mosquitoes, and stood feet away from feeding deer. Today began with the question, "can I hike 30 miles through the sierras and what would it feel like to try?". It ends with the answer yes and it hurts good. 

Tomorrow I can reach Mammoth a day ahead of schedule if I hike 26 miles. That too will be tough, possibly even more so after exhausting my body today. To be determined if I do.

There must be a 100 or so mosquitoes madly swarming my tent mesh. Thank goodness I didn't send home the tent as I thought to while in the desert. Now I can happily sit inside munching down some after dinner cookies. That's not to say I've gotten away free. Im absolutely covered in bites from head to toe. This is the price to pay for endless water. Some of which I'm camping beside. This fast moving river is the first to require wadding.

Todays summit of Muir Pass was extra challenging due to its often snow covered obscured and unpredictable path. It took  longer than expected to solve the puzzle of summiting leaving me exhausted for the rest of the day. Yet I still managed to get 18 miles leaving me on target for arrival in Mammoth in 3 days time.

I'm simultaneously enjoying the hike more and considering its completion more regularly. The unfamiliarity I recall so vividly from a few weeks ago has turned familiar. The days less long and more meshed in memory. Contemplating the breadth of this hike actually has precedence and is therefore more intimidating. So I guess there's a mental shift on the horizon to deliver new perspective.

Trail legs have landed. In no way did walking begin easy today yet it felt more natural than previously. I noticed something was different when I kept passing people yet had not had to pause to let another by. Toward the end of the day the walking actually did become easy even as I began the ascent toward Muir Pass after having already summited Mather Pass. It's a good feeling. There's little in my life that I have dedicated so much consistent effort towards as this hike. Watching the progression of my body and mind with the occasional breakthrough such as todays is a strong reminder of the compounding consequences of consistent effort over time. Much like the holes seen bored through rocks from years of dripping water. In my otherwise fast paced life I hope to intergrate this previously hypothetical idea as one now realized for myself.

I allowed myself to sleep in this morning, waking up at 7 with first step on trail by 8:30. Everything outside of my tent was covered in a layer of dew which I did my best to dry before stuffing into my bag for the day. The first few miles hiking were mentally difficult. The mental challenge is certainly prevailing. Even though the physical demand is more or less at it's maximum. It's insane how beautiful the surrounding environment is yet the feelings brought forth by the circumstances of hiking nearly over shadow all but a few glimpses of awe. Then again there's an impression that will surely live on. 

I hiked alone today positioned between bubbles of friends. Im hiking the Sierras at my own pace even though there is a slight timeline I must follow to keep from starving. 

Moments after reaching the summit of Pinchot Pass a magnificent thunderstorm rolled in. There had been a slight drizzle warning of an impending storm but nothing prepared me for the eruption of nearby thunder echoing through the valley I hurriedly descended to. Being above the tree line I felt vulnerable to the lightning now flashing through the sky. At the first available bush I crouched taking shelter from the storm that had begun pelting hail. Over the next 30 minutes the thunder roared louder and the hail grew larger, nearly reaching the size of marbles. Other hikers joined me beneath this simple bush, more for protection from lightning than the hail. Eventually with no clear sign of the downpour letting up, but the thunder reducing in frequency, we all left our shelter for a dash toward the valley below. Not long after blue skys began to work their way back overhead, pushing the storm further behind us. As the sun came to shine again the valley was filled with chirping birds and a welcoming soft yellow glow. Accepting the invitation I found a grassy area nestled between a lake and her stream to camp for the night. 

The day began with ideal hiking weather.  Barely any clouds in the sky, and even the few present stood unthreatening. I took the bus from bishop to independence and a hitch from there to the trail head. Climbing back over Kearsarge Pass was less difficult than anticipated. Yet tired from the last few nights of crashing on the hostel couch I took a quick unexpected nap on a rock a little ways down the other side. Better rested I continued forward toward Rae Lakes. The current section of 120 or so miles until Mammoth is supposed to be one of the most beautiful sections on the PCT. Yet this beauty comes with a price. A pass per day. For the next seven days I will be climbing at least one pass. Today I climbed two. The second, Glen Pass was immensely beautiful in ways I have never experienced. It didn't hurt that just before reaching it a storm rolled in dramatically dropping hail. At first I tried to wait the storm out but after some time I grew impatient and decided to give it a go. Along the way we're lakes with water blue enough to make any miniature golf course jealous. Then after a near vertical climb up, the peak did not disappoint. The mountains here are as mountain like as it gets. Jagged inclines and perfectly shadowed edges lead the eye up toward sharp snow covered peaks. Down below are turquoise lakes among a network of streams feeding the valleys fresh green grass and wild flowers. Today the scene was painted extra dramatically with dark gray clouds dropping white balls of hail. I'm camping at Rae Lakes im my tent and feel a sense of peace here. I'm feeling more and more conflicted with the desire to be still and move forward. Scenes like this are inspiring to spend time in, yet to do so for too long could compromise the overall trip. At least for now I think I'll stop counting miles, knowing to at least cross one pass per day. 

Well I tried. At 10 am I made it back to the trail head. Already before departing we heard word of hikers returning from their attempted departure due to bad weather. Wanting to make the decision for ourselves we got a ride with Jeeves to the trail head talking through the situation throughout the 1 hour drive. The forecast was for rain and snow along the pass for the next two days. Had we already been on trail this would be a circumstance to deal with, as many hikers currently are; however it seems foolish to knowingly head into the storm. I's mostly concerns of comfort and less so of safety. Knowing it very well may be seven days before my next trip to town, and I lack personal experience in such a scenario I am comfortable with following the others decision to wait another day. It wasn't my intention to triple zero but here I am back in Bishop eating lunch at the bowling alley. At least I got a work out, rest more, do some yoga, and have nice conversation, preparing my mind and body for tomorrow's efforts. It will still be wet and likely no less trouble than today but at least I'm more prepared and informed of what to expect. In the evening I caught up with Jerome, Nienke, and some others from my original bubble learning about their experience descending the mountains today. Apparently it's cold and wet. I'll need to better waterproof my bag. To stay another day is inviting stagnation. Besides it's only the idea of leaving known comfort for unkown discomfort that holds me back. Rain on trail is inevitable. Even if I just return to the trail head and stay the night there I'll have forward momentum. Bishop has provided much comfort for me in shelter, food, and community, but it's time to return to trail to take on the challenge's awaiting.

Alchemist and Anna left early morning back to trail. I decided to take a later ride in the afternoon. Spending the morning relaxing eating and journaling I was prepared to get back on trail. Than Crocs came around and offered to make NJ style bagels. An offer to good to refuse. So exchanged my ride to trail for one to the grocery store. It was late evening by the time we had fresh bagels and cream cheese warming our stomachs. All doubts of my last minute decision to double zero were temporarily dulled. 

Having already checked out of the hostel I'll crashed on one of the couches for the night waking early to get a ride with Jeeves back to trail. Now I'm antsy.

Yay zero. I thought I might head back to trail with the others but will not. Boogie, Prarie Dog, Brightside, and McMansion head back, leaving Anna, Alchemist, and I stay back considering a later return. Later we decide to stay another night. Perfect. We borrowed some bikes and did the rest of the chores with leisure. Not exactly a relaxing day after doing laundry, shopping, packing, repacking, and phone calls but I ate well, had fun, and tomorrow morning will be easy. I'll catch up on journaling then too.

Im tired. Physically and mentally. Yesterday put a real demand on my body and in the sub freezing temperatures sleep didn't come easy. Maybe I'll take an extra day in Bishop, especially considering the effort it will take to get there. On todays itenerary is Forester Pass, the highest point on the PCT, followed by an off trail Kearsage Pass to hitch into Bishop. Once in the high Sierra backcountry the only way to town is via long and often arduous side trails. It brings an entire new meaning to the word remote.

Im listening to Zen and Now: On the Trail of Robert Pirsig and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance. It brings back fond memories and anecdotes from my own reading of the original. Like Zen and The Art, Zen and Now is written in a curious manner exploring the authors relationship with ideals through his experiences traveling. I feel as if I too am exploring my ideals through this grand hike.

The book reaches the prologue just as I reach the parking lot at Onion Valley. Within moments of positioning myself at the exit point preparing for a hitch a man pulls up and gets out of the car to help me with my bag. I had noticed him as I descended preparing to depart and remember him glancing back and noticing me. When I tell him I'm heading north to Bishop he responds he's going south toward Lone Pine but can drop me at the first neutral junction of Independence. It would be easier to hitch from the main road. I kindly refuse the offer stating I'd give this parking lot a fair chance. After all there are still plenty of cars here, each with a 50/50 chance of heading north. Unoffended he gets back in his car and drives away. Almost immediately I realize my mistake. There's no movement in the lot or in the surrounding hills. It's getting late and I'm all out of food. Better to have gotten into Indepence where there's at least the opportunity for eating and lodging. Why had I said no. It's the hopeful wishing for something better wasn't it. In refusing the ride I had fought life's flow. Had I learned nothing from the lessons on Zen? Or at least from prior experiences? Quickly catching myself feeling sorry I divert my attention to acting more Zen like now. Forgiving the recent past I look around and acknowledge the circumstances. For the first time I notice a majestic waterfall behind me, crashing fresh snow melt into the river below. The temperature is mild and sitting behind the shade of my pack I remind myself that of all places to be "stranded" this must be the most beautiful. A few moments later I see Brightside and Alchemist walking through the lot. This comes as a surprise as they had been ahead of me all day and I figured they must have gotten to town already. I shout after them. On the third attempt they turn around and look equally suprised to see me. How did you get here they ask. We've been waiting at the trail head for at least an hour. It turns out the trail splits a few feet before the end lending two ways to the lot. They go to tell the others to join me at the lots exit point. It's good to find their company. We agree that we'll all take the first ride to Independence and work our way from there to Bishop. I go for another walk through the lot seeking someone loading into their car and find a group of day hikers from Las Vegas eager to drive two of us to Independence. McMansion and I hop in.

From Independence the way to Bishop turns out to be more difficult than anticipated but with access to a convience store with fresh food, and the company of friends, I'm not worried. Soon enough though Alchemist flags down a guy from Trukee on his way back from San Diego. Alchemist, Anna, and I take the ride arriving in Bishop soon before sunset. It's good to have arrived. There's something else about walking 100 miles up and over thousands of feet of mountain to arrive in one's desired destination. After checking in to the Hostel California we go for some Mexican food. By the end of the hour we're all together again after Brightside and Prarie Dog finally arrive from their hitch. It's good spirits all around well past our usual bedtime of three stars. Tomorrow is for chores and rest. I'm still uncertain if I'll return to trail then or the day after.

Arriving atop Mount Whitney feels like it should feel more. After all I just summited the highest point in the contiguous United States. But then zen teaches us that it's not about the summit but about the climb. Im beginning to understand that.

Despite the below freezing temperature, high wind, and limited oxygen the climb up is less difficult than anticipated. Likely due to the well graded trail, nearly empty pack, and miles of trail already under my belt. Its a nice reminder of the progress made.

At the top we take obligatory photos, and throw a little dance party, sharing this major milestone in humor. I want to meditate and contemplate the moment but instead let it just be. There will be time for reflection later.

The way down is later. I'm feeling more inclined to be in solitude but am also hungry and distracted by the knowledge of what lies ahead. Back at base camp I pack up the rest of my things and make the last of my meals. Getting to town tomorrow is less of an option than it is a requirement now. For where water now runs abundant, access to food has become more scarce. With two passes between us and the next town we depart for another 8 miles before days end. It's well into the night by the time we stop. The last few miles are different though. Ahead of the group, listening to an audiobook, I opt for night vision over a headlamp, forcing a heightened sense of intimacy with the trail. Using what little light available and an unexplainable understanding of the nature of the trail I place each step deliberately with careful yet rapid consideration. Despite being caged in cloth and rubber, my feet tread lightly feeling the earth below. Testing the ground before commiting to the step. If a rock or tree root is felt my weight shifts to the other foot. Remembering water flows here I remove the earbuds to listen for signs of a crossing. Its a good thing too for one came around the corner shortly thereafter. Hearing the voices of people behind me I wait for them to catch up. The stream is small and easily hopable but maybe its better to regroup. Together we decide it's best to stop here for the night leaving the rest of the trek for tomorrow. It's been a long and rewarding day. Time for some well deserved rest.

I enjoyed hiking today. At least for some time. We left camp beside the lake well into the morning allowing for a relaxed and slow wake up. I chose to hike alone at a slower pace. At one point it dawns on me that I am enjoying the hike. Not too heavy of a pack, and cool weather keep it comfortable while my leisurely pace remains effortless. It only took 750 miles. And lasts about 5. I note to myself that I'll need to do some slower backpack trips when this one wraps up. But for now I have a different purpose. I suppose. Anyway the weather is getting colder and the clouds uninviting so it's best if I get a move on.

Our campsite is beside a grand meadow a few miles shy of Mt. Whitney. There's a good stream nearby and lots of hikers who know it. It's probably the most populated campsite I've stayed at. Word travels fast among hikers and we hear word that a ranger came by to warn people of cold conditions atop Whitney, resulting in two hypothermic cases this morning. We quickly adjust our plans of a sunrise summit to early morning to avoid near zero temperatures. I'm glad about that decision.

We hiked many miles in an attempt to do a low mileage day before summiting Whitney. It turns out to be difficult. Filled with climbs, elevation weakness, and long water carries. By the time we arrive at the lake to camp I'm in a pretty poor mood. So I opt for the Thai Coconut Soup I've excitingly reserved for just this moment. I boil some water, pour it into the package, and wait the suggested 20 minutes. It's a disappointment. Sigh. I know sleep is needed so luckily we intend to start later than usual tomorrow. It'll get better. It always does.  

Our first day in the sierras began beside a creek. Though most of the miles where hot and dry the water carries are diminishing as we ascend. Trees are increasing in frequency as are the jagged rock formations. I've been hiking with Prarie Dog, Brightside, Alchemist, and Boogie the past few days and having a great time with it. Lots of laughs, games, and good conversation. 

For our siesta we rested beside a wide stream where the forest turns to meadow. There in the tall grass birds danced around us before a backdrop of mountains. It was perfect.

On the long walk up toward camp I removed my bear can from my pack to carry it by hand rather than in my pack. It works well at least for the period of time that it's full and introducing extra strain on my back. Other hikers got a real kick from the sight of me balancing a bear can in one hand as I go by. 

Tonight's the first night camping in the trees proper and I'm thrilled. After arriving at camp we stretched, ate dinner, smoked some weed, drew on Boogies mat, and I read some of The Alchemist out loud.

Its already colder and we have a bit higher to climb. Tomorrow's hiking should be tough but beautiful.

After breakfast at the general store I made my way to Grumpys to pick up packages, shower, and eat lunch. Many people had warned to expect trouble there yet my experience was just fine. Another reminder to leave room for ones-own impressions.

The rest of the day was spent packing, charging, and hanging around. Fitting all of my food into a bear canister is a new challenge to maneuver. In the late evening a few of us left Kennedy Meadows to get ourselves back on trail, even if only a mile.

Journaling is becoming a tougher process as I'm weaned from initial impressions toward a sustained process. I may leave some space for logless days. Besides the nature of this experience is less bound by daylight as it is by oftentimes multi day sections, so it might be worthwhile to log them as such. Or I'll just continue backfilling every few days. Tbd.

One of the greatest days on trail yet. Reaching Kennedy Meadows is the only major milestone I had set for myself. At mile 700 I dropped in enthusiasm. The sense of accomplishment is incredible. From here on out each step is a gift from my self to myself. The challenge is not near complete, only transformed. And the transformation is exciting. The desert was far different than anticipated. Far greener, more diverse, mountainous, and full of excitement. I'm simultaneously humbled and empowered by my experience through the desert.

Kennedy Meadows with it's congregation of hikers is a massive reunion of trail friends. Each representing a treasured time from the past 700 miles. There's a strong feeling of accomplishment in the air, especially as everyone cheers for each new hiker to cross into view. There's nothing official about Kennedy Meadows that states you've done anything great, yet everyone here knows what you've gone through to make it here, and what that means moving forward. 

Tomorrow I will get back on trail after picking up my packages and handling other chores. The temptation to stick around this space of comfort and good spirits is strong, but I'll use it as momentum to enter this next stage of the trail, rather than a destination in itself. 

A personally unforgettable momentous day.



And the magic continues. Someone (probably the gentleman I briefly spoke with in the way into the restaurant who had hiked the PCT in 87) just anonymously paid for my breakfast. Right after someone else offered me a ride to nearly where I need to go today. Whats so incredible about the kindness bestowed by others is its apparent source in inspiration (as opposed to pity or other). Seeing the response by others to the impact my journey has had on me is testimony to the power one experience has on another. Even when crossing individual life lines. 

Needing a ride to Inyokern to pick up my shoes from the post office I hitched with Rodeo and Pause from New York. Rodeo is here supporting her husband Pause on his third (and apparent last) attempt through the Sierras. Both fascinating individuals we discussed Pauses professional experiences as a journalist, turned UN Secretary General public relations officer and Rodeos as the founder of the non profit Games For Change. Shortly thereafter I was finished resupply shopping in my new kicks and back on trail at Wlakers Pass. Waiting for the sun to set before daring to hike it was refreshing to be back spending time amongst hikers known and unknown. There I met and had a long theological discussion with a wise elderly gentleman, Thomas who spends his days on and around trail. With much to think about and many new names to remember, I departed up trail for a pleasant solitary hike into the night.

It's not every day that I hike 9 miles before 7:30 am, but today was one of those days. At the road junction I waited just a few minutes before Scott showed up in his pickup to give me a lift. Turns out he manages the integral water caches at 617 and 630 which he had just replaced as a precautionionary measure to the outbreak of on trail illnesses. We had some nice chats and he dropped me at a diner in the center of Lake Isabella. Apparently he lives in DC but spends the hiking season out here doing angel work, managing caches and providing lifts. And yet he refused my donation.

After a full breakfast at the diner I crossed the street to the dentist office to see if they might squeeze me in sooner. While waiting an older gentleman entered the waiting room and after the receptionist informed him about my hiking trip he shared that he had hiked the PCT as a 12 year old Boy Scout in the late 50's. Just a few moments after finishing the administrative tasks I was called back. The dentist filled the missing cavity and repaired another nearby for $42 after insurance. Apparently interested in the hike and my doing so in Walmart sandals, she called her boyfriend Jess to come by and chat shoes with me, since he'd been in the business. And that's what we did. Back in the waiting room we discussed shoe strategies and he tried his best to help me find a store nearby. As we decided a outdoor store up the road in Kernville was the best option the dentist came out from the back dressed in street clothes informing us that id be joining them for lunch. So in a unique moment I was treated to delicious Mexican food by my dentist and her boyfriend. We sat for a while in discussion. I learned about their relationships, children, dreams, and current circumstances. They learned about the struggles, lessons, motivations, and experience of being on trail. After this Jess dropped his girlfriend back at her office and drove me up to Kernville.

I stayed in the adventures store for much of the rest of the day. Though they had one pair of shoes that were promising I was afraid to pay yet another $150 for the wrong shoe. So wighour a means to truly try and possibly return, I didn't purchase them. Nonetheless the employees where kind and I spent time chatting with them and hanging around their air conditioned store. At some point per their suggestion I ventured through the heat to a lodge nearby to seek accommodations. An hour later and I was back without success. Apparently the director the local PCTA would be coming by soon and I thought to inquire with him for lodging ideas, and to dig deeper into the water crisis that was quickly becoming a serious matter. In contact with friends still in Tehachepi it was apparent the news of hikers getting sick on the stretch to Walker Pass was complicating many hikers plans, especially without having any concrete info. Even when I asked the local rangers for any suggestions they had little to offer. As it turns out neither did the PCTA guy. About the water or lodging. At least my time waiting for him wasnt a complete waste of time since the store manager had gifted me some ice cream during the wait. But with the day closing up Inneeded to get some dinner and make a plan for the night. 

Across the street at the pizza shop I charged up my electronics, made some phones calls, and ordered a pizza. A pizza and a half was delivered since the kitchen had apparently botched the order. I didnt know the difference but appreciated the extra. After eating I packed back across the street to a campground beside the river. The campground was more a paid parking lot than campground but bring in for I let myself in and walked beyond the rows of cars into the brush. There I camped incognito. Tomorrow I'll make my way to Inyokern to see about picking up some shoes I shipped to the post office.

Much of today I hiked without seeing any other hikers. At about noon an old friend passed but otherwise I spent it listening to "Arabs - A History". During my siesta I looked at a map and realized I might be able to get to the main road by Friday if I take an alternate route. Realizing this I arranged a new dentist appointment for Friday afternoon in the closer but smaller town of Lake Isabella. With 35 miles miles to go in 24 hours I anticipated going 15 further today and the final 20 in the morning. However after arriving to the water source 7 miles later I realized a miscalculation that would add another 7 miles to the road. Had I not already hiked nearly 20 miles I might have made the 14 more mile push that day but instead I began to look for other options. Remembering the Facebook group of local trail angels I posted to see if anyone was heading down the one dirt road crossing the trail some 9 miles ahead. Luckily someone was so tonight I camp here along side Magma and Flintstone, and British Comm, with the plan of hustling up to the road by 8am tomorrow morning. 


The wind last night kept me up much of the night. But the real trouble of the day is to figure out how to resolve the lost tooth filling that came out while flossing last night. Im thinking it's best to fix it in Ridgecrest since it's the last large city before Tahoe. Mid day I arranged an appointment for the upcoming Monday,w which means I should slow down for the next few days. The potential upside to this is hopefully meeting back with the team on Monday. Ill enjoy the low mileage days though I'm not thrilled to. 

Hiking in sandals is good. Only one blister from rocks. If they had mesh they'd seemingly be perfect.

I camped at Golden Oaks, after waiting hours for my turn to fill up, due to the slow flow. I'm taking an early night to hopefully get a good nights rest. 

Waking up restless at 5:30 am in a real bed, and walking 20 feet to what must have been the lamest continental breakfast served in America, was awesome! I filled up on cereal and milk (something I've been craving for weeks now) and microwave egg sandwiches. I then made a few trips between the container of honey buns and my room. Between breakfast and the hiker box my ressuplying needs were nearly met. The only thing left to do was visit Walmart to investigate their shoe selection and snag a few packets of tuna. 

Getting to Walmart after noon checkout  proved more difficult than anticipated but eventually Uber prevailed. There I tried on an assortment of sandals and shoes in an attempt to find a temporary solution to my ever present shoe troubles. I loaded a few options into the cart and proceeded to swap between them as I did the rest of my shopping. Sometime while in a universe yogurt, working to choose between approximately 72 variations, I was pulled back to reality by an elderly woman in an electronic shopping cart who asked me a question. Sorry I said. "Are you a hiker?" She repeated. Oh yes I am I replied with a friendly but somewhat unenthusiastic smile, as the question has become a rather familiar one. Without saying anything further she picked up her purse and dove zippers deep retrieving a $20 bill. Here she finally said, have this. I politely replied that there really is no need yet I appreciate the gesture. In response she said "god told me to give you this", leaving me little choice but to accept her gift out of understanding the significance to her. Without another word Maria pulls back on the throttle and takes off around the corner. A few minutes later she's gone. I wonder if it was these sandals. Feeling pretty good I spin towards the checkout to cash in on this unexpected gift. But before even unloading my cart I hear from behind me "will you need a ride somewhere?". I turn around and an unfamiliar woman continues to explain that she'd be happy to take me back to trail or wherever I might want to go. I explain that I'd gladly take a ride back to trail this evening but was first going to stop for some Thai food. To this she rapidly concoctes a plan for dropping me off at a Thai restaurant to then pick me up after and drive me and some others back to trail. As I'm expressing my support and gratitude for the plan she must have noticed what I'm purchasing because before I know it she's on the phone with her sister in Bakersfield researching ways for me to get to a proper shoe store there which I had previously not been aware of. Only after calling the shoe store to inquire about their inventory and not finding satisfaction did we return to the original itinerary. And we did just that, making only a pit stop at the Hiker Haven in town to see about other hikers needing a ride. 3 hours later and Cheryl has me back on trail, breaking in these new Walmart sandals, belly as stuffed as the bag I carry.

Purchasing these $20 Walmart sandals might just be the most contrarian decision I've ever made. Out here gear is worshiped second only to the necessity of walking every mile. I had already made up my mind to violate the latter by neglecting to hike the 8 miles between where I hitched into town and to where I intended to hitch back to trail. But buying sandals so cheap and unqualified that not even the blogs brooding past page 3 of the search results would recommend them, is surely as sac religious as it gets. If these cheap bastards are actually the solution to pain ridden blistering feet I'll laugh all the way to Canada.

Sometimes trail towns give other times they provide. Surprisingly, Tehachapi provided nourishment of the mind body and soul. All that in a desert town probably best known by truck drivers and vagabonds. Leaving town I'm refreshed and prepared to take on this last major stretch before reaching the place I work so hard towards. The Sierras.

The majority of todays hike was long hot and boring leaving the three pound burrito I so wisely packed out the primary contestant for the days challenge. That was until I decided to night hike past the wind mills into the hills providing the wind. Hiking was a constant battle to keep from being blown off the hillside, at times even dropping to a knee for stronger support. A firm reminder of natures might. It was the first time I felt serious concern for my safety on this trip, leading me to seek out a flat place to hold up for the night. Ironically this came just hours after confiding in a friend that I have yet to feel genuinely fearful while hiking. The night was long. Thank goodness for earplugs. 

Earlier I happened upon the woman who manag  multiple water caches in the area, including the one that saved me yesterday. I informed her about that and she became visibly excited. We took a nice picture together.

Im looking forward to hiking beyond the long dry windy stretches of desert that I've become all to familiar with. Sooner though I am excited about spending a night in Tehachapi at a hotel. 

Woke up dehydrated and drank the sipful of water I rationed for the morning. The mile walk to the next alleged water cache was filled with suspense as my parched lips puckered at the rising sun. Finally spotting gallons of water beside the trail is the most relief I've felt to see water, possibly ever.

Shanee is back for a visit bringing welcomed fresh energy. She hiked a few miles up trail to meet me and we spent the rest of the day together enjoying the less than mundane task of stuffing calories and resupplying. I'll stay the night at Hiker Town, a weird wild west themed desert property. Like many elements of this trip I'm uncertain of what's really going on here but I'll pay my 3 dollars for tamales and roll with it. 

In the morning I begin the long walk along the aqueduct toward Tahachapi. I hope to get there by Monday for a much desired zero.

The day was slow in pace which I enjoyed, yet filled with raw excitement. In the morning I took 2.5 liters of water from the spring a mile in with the intention of hiking less miles, stopping at one of the few potential water sources up ahead. A few miles later some new foot pain creeped up, so already feeling pretty tired I took an early siesta. 3 hours later I dragged myself back to consciousnes.

Though I typically carry 1 liter per 5 miles of walking today I found myself with 2 liters for 25.  Luckily the day was cool and not too strenuous but nonetheless I can feel dehydration kicking in. The first two water sources turned out to be no good, the first a tank smelling of skunk, and the second to deep to reach and full of garbage either way. Knowing I'd only get more dehydrated over night I pushed past my intended stopping point in pursuit of water. So as the sun set I walked forward 6 miles to a water cache thats allegedly never been empty. It was empty. Exhausted and dehydrated I set up camp for the night hopeful that the next cache a mile further would contain water. Otherwise it's 7 miles further to Hiker Town. I'll make it, though quite thirsty.

Living so close to survival is new for me. Its helping shift other concerns into perspective in a way previously only hypothetical. Furthermore throughout the day I've been texting with a friend about plans for spending tomorrow together. Having access to a cell phone with service, a wildly complex technology, while actively struggling to find water, a most primitive need, is a weird juxtaposition.

Oh and in a hurry I passed mile marker 500 bringing me to about 1/5 of the way to Canada! Rad. 

Todays hiking was nice but like most others out here im looking forward to the completion of the desert. Even still there was only a couple miles of extreme heat before a social siesta. I didnt wear my knee brace for the first time in a few days and am thankfully without trouble. I'm optimistic that soon the knee pain will be a thing of distant memory. Possibly out of irresponsible excitement I hiked the last 7 miles of the day at my fastest rate, working to keep up with Slay's natural pace. Even with a quick pause to meet Bowser the toad lizard.

Today marks the completion of one month of hiking! Tomorrow I reach 500 miles. That's significantly more time and miles than I've previously hiked collectively. Jeez.

Yesterday's early start, followed by a night of broken sleep, paired with todays heat, has me exhausted. Sitting in Agua Dulce's Mexican restaurant has me stuffed and in dire need of some good rest. Yet even still I'd prefer to be in the wild and out of town. A good sign.

With all the confusion about the possible fire closure we had arranged for Jerry the security guard from the KOA to give rides past. Only after the first shift departed did we confirm that it was indeed open, despite the previous report. Even so the day is far to hot to hike so I rested in town until evening before taking a few more miles of hills. Surprisingly I felt strong and rejuvenated climbing this evening, making good time on the 8 mile ascent.

I've been meeting lot's of new people in the absence of my regular bubble. Knee pain was flairing up during todays super hot and long day. After having arrived at the KOA I did laundry, showered and ate a dinner of microwave food. There's word of a trail closure due to fire that well have to get a ride past tomorrow. 

Early I completed the road walk around the endangered species trail closure. Once back on trail the grade was relatively easy with the majority of the day a mild decline, except for the 5 mile summit of Pacifico Mountain. At the top the foliage and surrounding views where magnificent, bringing me to a slower pace. Tonight I'm camping a tad earlier than typical in preparation for tomorrow's 26 mile water carry into Acton.

I saw double trail magic today. First from Tiger Blood who was filling in a gap from her 2020 hike. After summiting Mount Baden Powell together she gifted me a bag of food. Then again later down trail a local couple, Chris and Paco, parked in the lot with a table spread with fresh fruit, snacks, drinks, and more. They were super sweet and eager for us hikers to enjoy the much appreciated delicacies. 

I've yet to be in a more aptly named place than today's Windy Gap. Each time the trail traversed the north side of the mountain I battled winds strong enough to blow me off trail. And as is the spirit of the PCT the day was filled with repetitive summits and descents.

A shorter day hiking into the town of  Wrightwood for rest, hot food, and a resupply. After a few hours there I left Oceans 11 behind to get back on trail. Though enticed by the prospect of staying the night, I feel as if I just got my momentum going after Big Bear and don't want to spend to long off trail just yet. So as for now I'm hiking my first section truly solo. Its more comforting to know they're behind me than ahead, leaving a strong possibility of seeing them again. I feel ready to experiment more with solitude on trail, having grown into a "thru-hiker" as a part of a group.


Walking the first 7 miles to grab ice cream and hot food was quick and easy. The next 15 we're some of the most challenging yet. With about 4000 feet of elevation gain my legs are tired. Yet I'm grateful for the exhaustion without pain. I rather enjoy the physical demand of large sustained climbs. Unlike the way down, ascents are each step a matter of will. It takes strength to proactively conquer a befronted challenge, while it's painful to forcibly respond to uncontrollable circumstances. I prefer the former. 

I arrived in camp later than anticipated for the lack of available level ground. Just before the sky reflected the last of light I set up, and made dinner. Alone among the bushes I dozed off for a night of absolute silence.

My strength is back and the pain is well under control. Good thing too since the day is hot and with little shade. It appears the knee brace is helping on the downhills, as is paying far more attention to how I step.

Evident in the increased frequency I have earbuds in, the repetitive nature of hiking is becoming more obvious. Days are blurring in ways the first few didn't. It has me contemplating time and relativity. 

I anticipated it would be easier to listen to audiobooks than it has been. Oddly I'm finding it challenging to give them enough attention to be worth my while. Maybe once out of the desert and the heat lets up. In the meantime music has been great at picking up where the calories leave off.

As per my commitment with David we did our 300 push-ups for 300 miles. 

At many points along the trail I had access to the river and its foliages shade. I took the days siesta at one particular pool even more paradise like than the others. Further down trail I stopped for a dip in the natural hot spring where I ate dinner before departing for a few more miles of night hiking. Exhausted, Neinke and I stopped a mile short of the damn at a sketchy campspot, after failing to find anything more suitable for many miles. A few moments of stargazing later and the days mileage took me for the night. 

It feels good to be back on trial. Mentally that is. Physically it's a challenge to bring the body back into gear. We only could get a ride back to trail at 1pm leaving the morning to Big Bear. Unfortunately I seemed to have left my Garmin watch there. Not the way I intended to lighten my load. 

I camp beside a river with a natural pool allowing for a late evening swim.

After two days off and an impromptu trail side physical therapy session in the trunk of a trail angels car, I figured my knee problems where done for. Indeed for the first 12 miles everything felt great. Since we received an extra day at our Airbnb we took the opportunity to hike without our usual packs and return to civilization from further down trail. Light packs paired with the low grade made for some really easy walking. Then Dunkirk, David, Pots and I missed a turn and found ourselves a mile and a half off down the mountain. It's this unnecessary 3 miles of climbing that returned the pain. Given that we had a ride waiting for us at mile 281, slowing down was not an option. 

Back in town I've purchased insoles to reduce foot pronation, and hopefully any resulting lateral knee movement. To be determined how this new challenge resolves.

It's been unique to sleep 4 nights in a bed, eating multiple fresh meals, with the chance to shower at will, and laze before the television, while still having conquered some additional miles. Big Bear has certainly added some welcomed diversity to this experience.

Again began zero day 2 slowly without any agenda. Most of the time spent lounging around the Airbnb's kitchen, hot tub, and living room, listening to music and drinking beers. On days off like this the community becomes ever more present. Be it cooking, shopping, or caring for wounds, the sense of comradery is real. Dmitry joining that briefly is special. 

Awoke in a bed for the first time since beginning this trip. Such a luxury. Spoke with friends on the phone, ate big meals, handled some admin things, and lazed around. The days in the city are good.

Listening to the hobbit while walking through these parts has me feeling as if I'm on an otherworldly adventure of my own. True there may be no dwarves, or elves, but magic is everywhere. From the trail angels delivering food water and much needed transportation, to the spectacular sunsets that would surly bring envy to the eyes of Mr. Disney. Each morning I wake to the chirping of birds singing praise to another rising sun. Even in the burnt remainders of fallen trees there lies a story of life's chaotic ways. I now know why John Muir and friends had so much to say and I'm afraid that no words not even theirs can do justice to the raw reality of it all. The colors, sounds, and smells that expand far beyond my imagination, let alone capacity to comprehend. And this is just the external experience.

Internally there's an entire other tale to be told. One of trial, pain, and discomfort. One of discovery, growth, and evolution. Of socialization, community, and communication. I don't know yet know how this story unfolds but as I've reflected before, it's already a pretty damn interesting one.

With 21 miles to go before 5 pm I began my days journey before the sun did hers. Making pretty good progress by the 11th mile, I foolishly attempted to test my maximum speed, resulting in a 12 minute mile and a throbbing knee. After taking breakfast and some advil there, I continued forward, hobbling along with occasional outbursts of self directed explicative's. It was already a very long day by the time 10 o'clock came around with the days blessings of elaborate heat. Somehow I made it up the last big hill before the road to Big Bear City and was met with Bosco and his dog who immediately asked if I'd need a ride to town, turning himself around for the mile walk back to where he had parked. Lost in discussion of his hobby of flying hot air balloons, we walked straight past the monument announcing the 10% completion point. 

Before 4 pm I'm sitting on Dmitry's couch, comfortably showered, catching up with a friend who I see too infrequently. Together we run a few errands, clearing the next few days of any necessary obligations. I hope the time off will be enough to heal the minor injuries endured before heading back to trail Monday. I'm grateful to be here.

A very long day of hiking where the trail seemed as fatigued as the legs walking it. Dipping in and out of the valley stream the paths of many confused hikers lead others to a similar daze. Sometimes it was only after accidently rejoining the trail that I realized I had left it at all. Anyhow knowing that I wanted to be in Big Bear before 5pm on Friday motivated me through much of the day only to stop for a small siesta to cool down and rest up for the hike late into the evening. Luckily the second half of the day was far easier than the first allowing me to reach 19 miles with relative ease. In fact besides aching feet I felt good enough to continue further and if it hadn't been for suddenly passing by Fabian's camp I probably would have. But instead after pausing there for dinner I decided against moving forward, leaving the last 21 miles for tomorrow. Probably for the better. The day ended well.

A sunny day beginning slowly with the convenient kindness of the Mesa Wind farm workers, full of big climbs, leading across streams, with breaks for bathing, more climbs, and our first night camping along the sands of flowing water. 

I had lots of time for thought today. Thoughts, which with the repetition of walking, and lack of distraction seem to follow themselves further. Often in a way reminiscent of childhood. Sometimes there are meaningful takeaways or new understandings but mostly there is just thought. Where the imagination flows freely and without judgment. Playful in nature and without conclusion. The most similar experience to this I can recall in my typical life is when behind the wheel after some time during a long drive. This, like so many aspects of this relativity short hike, is refreshing. 

The long hot hike down continues. Until finally level ground is reached, met with fresh water and another case of trail magic. This time a cooler with the most beautiful can of ice cold coke I've ever held.

A quick but challenging walk through the windy sands, and a hitch from Jerry, a generous ex convict turned trail angel, got us to the celebrated shopping center. 4 hours, some rest, and many calories later we head back to trail fully charged and resupplied. Getting there isn't as easy as anticipated so we end up paying an off duty Uber driver to give us a ride, except he failed to return for everyone leaving a few stranded to wait over an hour for an actual Uber. Those of us who did make it back to trail huddle under the bridge to repack our freshly acquired supplies. Suddenly from the darkness a bright light blinds our workstations followed by the oncoming roaring of an engine, as an off-road machine barrels toward us along the underbridge center way. My heart just barely returned to its intended place when Jerry yells out for me to hop in for a ride in his fresh out of the shop Polaris Razer, which he so proudly exhibited to me during our ride some hours earlier. Politely I steer the conversation elsewhere deciding doing sumbersaults in the dark at 90 mph aside a 12 lane highway in Cabazone California, is not my preferred way to end this journey. 

Back to our business those of us present put our feet back on trail for a 3 mile trek to the Mesa Wind Farm outpost for the night. Exhausted yet hungry I devour half of the 2 pound burrito I hauled from town. Some minutes later I find myself comfortably warm in my sleeping bag and tent seemingly coordinated out of reflex. Another long but rewarding day.

What goes up can still go up. Though I reached 8000 feet of elevation, the highest point of the PCT in the area, I took the opportunity to ascend Mt Jacinto, bringing me another 2000 feet further before finally embarking on the long decent to the valley below. At the peak of Mt Jacinto it felt spiritual to see the world as I imagine it might appear from space. From this vantage point past days on trail are visible in their continuous form. I meditate upon the trail already conquered. 

The long journey down began as a welcomed change in pace. However where ascending is a tiresome exercise of muscle and mind, descending is a constant strain on ligaments and joints. Yet this encouraged taking regular opportunities to pause and appreciate the post card landscape I happened to find myself in. In an effort to better comprehend some of these scenes I have begun an exercise consisting of closing my eyes and repainting the scene by memory layer by layer until I can recall as much detail as possible from the particular perspective. Already I can better recollect some of the more impactful moments.

Stupid amounts of elevation. Somewhere around 5000 feet of change total. Only ever to decline to give chance for another incline. Oh and lots of games of sumbersaults over, and limbo under trees fallen across trail. But the pains where redeemed for views rarely seen. From the peaks of these mountains one could see the peaks just previously conquered and far beyond. After another night camping alone I'm glad to have rejoined with Oceans 11. Together we watched the lunar eclipse paint the moon red above a sparkling Palm Springs.

Beginning the day with Skunk Slayer brought joyful familiarity. We hiked a few miles and then spent time under a shading rock as one might spend some hours visiting an old friend in their city flat. Snacks, drinks, and good conversation. When she departed back to the car I remained for a midday nap. Spending the day leasurely reminds me of what's important here; the moments between the mile markers.

In the heat of the day I journeyed onward taking time to enjoy the process. Even the intensity of the climbs are more enjoyable when one step matters more than all. 

At the top of the ridge is where I sit now grasping for the means to comprehend my surroundings. I don't mind the flies harasong the nostrils breathing deep the sweet smell of nearby lavender flowers. In the air is the constant sound of birds singing to one another across the hills. Far below on opposite sides are tremendous valleys. Each expanding far beyond the eyes view, filled with fractals of itself like ocean waves. One is brown and the other green. My place a damn in the sky, determining who drinks and who does not. Damn or not beauty remains indifferent.

In all this expansiveness it's impossible to not feel the raw reality of existence. Calm, joy, sadness, companionship, and loneliness, all show themself here. So I try to take a photo then a video in a dire attempt to capture and study this moment. But of course it fails as will these words. The only hope is to listen to the language spoken by Nature without judgment, or imposition . Maybe then I can understand what she says.

Zero. Two hot showers in 24 hours. A true zero day spent performing chores, playing games, eating large, and chatting leisurely.

I picked up my new shoes from the post office. Feet are happy. 

Today I want less to walk than I do to arrive. But my head is free and thoughts clear. Up ahead is Paradise Valley Cafe. Aptly named when you haven't had a fresh meal in a few days. The Airbnb with Oceans 11 is a great time. So nice to be lounging around freshly showered in chairs and couches under the protection of a permanent roof. We have pizza, beers, games, and cake to celebrate Dunkirks birthday and our efforts. A good day. 

The days physical challenge was immense with new and old pains shouting for my attention alike. Yet mentally I found a clear and determined mind that brought me just shy of mile 142, for a 22 mile day. 

The first seven miles went easily, delivering me to Miles Place. Post apocalyptic is the only way to describe the environment there. As a water cache and charge up point most everyone stops at this trail angles property just a few feet off trail. Surrounding the property are old painted cars, rusting appliances, and the appropriate amount of signs and fences.

After leaving Mikes Place the familiar pains where muted by something new in my left hip. The rest of the day would become a mentally demanding exercise of will to get myself the 15 or so miles further I had anticipated to hike that day, in order to get myself to Idyllwild by Thursday. For this I turned to the stoic philosophy of Epictetus as inspiration. It's been a while since reading philosophy and I particularly enjoyed the chosen selections read by A.A Long in How to Be Free. Stoicism has always resonated as a philosophy well grounded in practicality. Today I got to realize this. 

Tonight I camp alone for the first time this trip. Tomorrow I reach Idyllwild where fresh food, new shoes and hopefully alleviation await.

It felt like the first day where hiking was the default. Each step came natural and without thought. Hiking is just what is done.

The day began late and slowly filled with leisurely pressure free walking. The kind of hiking I enjoy most. I did laundry in a river and hiked the rest of the day as a drying rack with nearly the entirety of my wardrobe strapped to the outside of my pack. Out here one must get creative.

My feet did well for the majority of the day until the days final big climb to where I set up camp for the night. The views here are spectacular and camping with some new faces refreshing. Im very much looking forward to the new shoes I've ordered ahead.

Beginning the PCT I anticipated camping alone most nights with the hope of meeting people along the way. I still have yet to camp a night alone and am curious to try it. Though it's certainly more comfortable to camp with others Id like to test how it is to call alone. Either way I'll try and stick within a few miles of the tramily and link up every few days or so.


The most beautiful, awe inspiring, emotion filled day yet. Waking to the clouds hanging low in the valley's of the outstretched mountains was the perfect opening scene to a day filled with spectacle. Then reaching mile 100 filled me with vigor. We took the obligatory photos, and David and I did our promised 100 push-ups. The next 100 are only a few days away as I get stronger and more familiar with what it means to be a thru hiker. Already I have learned countless lessons and am filled with ideas of how to improve moving forward. 

We spent a good few hours in the store in Ranchita, waiting out the high day in the comfort of a resupply shop. As the evening later proved eating 4 hot pockets wasn't the smartest decision but hiker hunger is growing. 

The  8 miles we traversed in late afternoon were the most incredible I've ever hiked. Easy trail first twisting through small hills of greenery eventually opening up into seemingly endless stretches of grass plain, spotted with monsterous rocks, and grazing cattle. In the middle of it all is Eagle Rock. A rock some 30 feet tall and a bit wider, accurately depicting a wing stretched eagle. There we took photos, and per the encouragement of Jerome danced the line dance as taught by Scout. 

Walking onward into the sunset nearly brought tears to my eyes. Days, weeks, and months of events somewhat culminated in this place among the expansive fields now glowing from the last of the falling sun. Even in the moment I couldn't find words, and considering it now I still have but a few. I doubt words will come, as I doubt I'll forget the feeling.  


Yesterday I bought new shoes per some Trail Angels recommendations. I agreed that my shoes were too tight, causing blisters. However after a few miles today in these spanking new Altra Lone Peak 6's my right foot began to hurt badly. A few more miles in and I'm limping wishing it were only blisters. I think the switch to zero drop shoes triggered some previous injuries. It definitely had me bummed for a minute when considering what it would mean if this didn't heal quickly. But im hopeful that tomorrow will show improvement and reaching mile 100 will be as celelebratory as expected. 

I listened to my first on trail audiobook, Longitude by Dava Sobel.  Its about the history of the scientific quest to accurately determine longitude. Its a creatively written book with lots of interesting facts about a topic I know so little. Now I've got some new random knowledge about the history of clocks and navigation.

At camp I offered for others to join me in some yoga and meditation, which nearly everyone did. The post hike physical and mental stretch was certainly welcome. 

While getting water earlier in the day (at a pallets of water bottles delivered to these remote parts by another trail angel) I overheard someone say how rare it is for a tramily of 11 to stick together. Well tomorrow Dunkirk, Stripes, Fabian, Rachel, Sunshine, Jerome, Neinke, Psycho, David, Mike, and myself will have made it 100 miles in 7 days, together. Pretty neat. 

Tonight is another night of cowboy camping under the stars, surrounded by cacti, overlooking a wide mountain valley. Surreal beauty is everywhere in these parts.


Today was a zero. We awoke late in the back of Becky's yard and took our time to get ready for the day. During this unusual morning lull Lisa and I had a nice chat about the personal impact of an extended hiking trip, while polishing some cold leftover pizza.

In town I bought a new pair of shoes to provide more space for my feet to move, hopefully to reduce the blisters. After walking around in them all day I can feel a clear difffernece there but am concerned about the zero drop (lack of support).

I thought I would get more rest than I ended up giving myself. After free pie from Mommas, and the PCT sandwich special next door, I walked through town taking care of chores such as mailing home my old shoes, buying groceries, and charging my electronics. It continues to blow my mind how kind people are to hikers both on and off trail. When mentioning this to the girls working behind the counter of a mercantile they said people in Julian love and respect the hikers. We've got to be the worlds most loved bums. 

In town I met a woman and her three kids aged 13, 16, and 18, from Roslyn Canada, who are hiking the PCT together. They clearly where somewhat new to this but highly committed and enthused. Im rooting for them!

After a full day of town activities we got a ride back to Scissors Crossing with Ghost. There we slept, each within a different collection of trees hoping for some protection from the strong winds that blew through the night.





I've accepted a trail name bestowed upon me by my clan. Its origin is in my mistaken forecast for rain on our first morning. Today, while resting beneath an overhanging rock, during the last leg of our massively intense journey toward Scissors Crossing, The Weatherman was solidified. It's not the sexiest name but sitting there post meditation, surrounded by all of these new friends its hard to deny the humour in such a name. So now The Weatherman serves as a token to the origin of my time with these goons (and a reminder to blunder with grace). To be determined if it sticks. 

The days trek was challenging with immense heat and long water carries. At a point where I considered veering off trail to follow a road to a town closer to Julian, Jerome arranged for us to stay with a trail angel named Becky for the evening. With this update we enthusiastically journeyed the additional 9 miles to reach Scissors Crossing by 6:00pm. 

There to greet us was another trail angel who goes by Ghost. After a few minutes of chatting Becky showed up and we split toward town for dinner at the Brewery. A few hours later she returned to bring us to her home for the evening. There she provided a shower, laundry room, and large yard to pitch camp. After a hot shower and load of laundry I quickly climbed into my familiar sleeping bag, just without the usual dirt. 


Today began at mile 42 and finished at mile 60. My longest hike, ever, by a long shot. I set up my tent for the first time and am very happy with it. So far the gear has been great for me. The trail has become familiar and my bags weight background pain. Its only the blister on my left heel that slows me now. Again I caught up with the og crew and got a big welcome. I really like these guys and will try to stick with 'em. Another good day that I will have to journal tomorrow. 

Yesterday I doubted if I'd make it to Canada. Today I doubt I won't. 

After a restless night I woke our camp at 5 am to a faulty forecast of rain. It turns out a power line light flashing in the heavy morning fog looks eerily similar to lightning. None-the-less everyone got up pretty quickly. What a laugh. 

The early morning climb to Lake Morena, among the protection of low laying clouds, was easier than anticipated. There we got some food, filled up water, and like a flock of geese continued north.

As the day warmed my pack got heavier. Or so it seems. And with that my commitment to positive thinking was fairly challenged. By the time we stopped for lunch I was full of aches, blisters, and angst. Laying under the stars at night just before passing into a deep sleep I realized the physical demand was only a trigger to what had really been troubling me. Since the beginning of the day I hadn't found a moment of solitude. Being surrounded by a group of people is phenomenal, especially with so many other first time thru hikers, yet I hadn't yet found my footing on trail and already felt bogged down by the movements of the group. I found myself moving in sync with others, even if though it was off my own rhythm. Having passed through the day as one might a 9-5 (or in this case a 5-7) I committed to make an active effort to really own each days experience. So at night I camped with a smaller group of people, allowing myself to wake later, taking time in the morning to stretch, and do some exercise (again with David), and "fall behind" on trail. Already I've noticed more wildlife, beautiful scenery, and inner calm. These are the lessons I've come here to learn. 

Today I took it slower, only hiking 10 miles and spending time to sit and enjoy the scenery. Most of this entry was written from the side of a stream from which I refilled. Later on in the day I was suprised to see everyone at the cafe in Mount Laguna. Though we've known each other for less than 48 hours it felt like bumping into old friends. After a few hours of eating, chatting, charging up, and showering, they all moved forward while I stay back to camp with some new friends. Finding my own pace was definitely the right move. The ways of the trail are making themselves known early. 

Too tired to write. 


Two highlights of my day were receiving a text from Dad welcoming me to Lake Morena, and swimming in an extremely refreshing stream with all these new friends!

Holy moly! What a day. We did a strong 15.4 miles to Haiser Creek where 14 of us have set up camp for the night. My body feels properly sore, everywhere, but probably nothing compared to what's coming tomorrow. Maybe I'll need to lighten my pack. I didnt care to do a final weigh in of the pack but my internal scale reads heavy. I guess I can get rid of some food. Though laying down now I'm quite comfortable. Or is that called exhaustion? Anyway there are quite a few who too are new to this and are also carrying possibly too much weight. We'll figure this out. Word is that tomorrows climb to Lake Morena will be the first true test. It's incredible and surreal to be on trail. Throughout the day I kept finding myself humored by the absurdity of this. I'm excited. 

Already strong elements of community are present. Exhausted we ate dinner together, each a different delicacy. Myself I ate left over oat gruel, and a protein shake. Excusable since David and I did a post hike workout (15 pull-ups and 90 push-ups), because gains. While the sun set over the cliffs we climb tomorrow, the group of us engaged in easy conversation and laughs. Most of us are cowboy camping but a few have decided to pitch a tent to protect against the bugs. 

During the roughly 10 hours of hiking I had nearly a million thoughts yet I'm afraid these entries are going to consist of mostly a crude summary of the days activities. However throughout the day I'm going to jot down some thoughts and include them unfiltered below.

### Thoughts

- Social media did little to no justice to the trail. 

- So much sweat. 

- Remember Yosef, you are doing this because you want to. How many things in life do you do because you need to, regardless of its difficulty. This here is an opportunity to exercise the greatest physical and mental challenge of your life. The fact that it is by choice is a testiment of free will.  

A day of final preparations for the trail with the boys. We ran a few leisurely errands gathering food, a better knife, and another failed attempt for better pants. In a dirt parking lot I pack my final bag and we're off to my first stop along the trail. Scout and Frodos "hiker home". After introductions, a nice dinner, some lessons from Scout, and fewer than anticipated gear conversations, all 20 or so hikers besides Rascal and myself turn in in anticipation of 5:30 am wake up. A few minutes later and we too retire to our places under the tree. At first it seems I may have forgotten to repack my pillow but upon accepting the inconvenience I recall having stuffed it somewhere even now I can not recall. Nerves are calm. I'm ready. 

> A banana gifted at breakfast led to a day of friendships, conversations, jokes, and adventures.

In the kitchen this morning Monica from Spain offered me a banana in response to my comment on her breakfast arrangement. This led to our eating together and my invitation for her and a nearby German girl, Leia, to join our excursions for the day. 

Before we left I noticed someone who appeared to be with all the gear for a big hike. Upon inquiry I learned Neinke is too heading up the PCT this season. So we gave her a ride to Scout and Frodos (PCT hosts), presumably offering her her first bit of trail magic. While there I inquired about staying with them as well, so that I can meet other hikers and ease my way on to trail. At first there was a hestitance due to my lack of booster but we settled on a rapid test upon arrival. So tomorrow evening I camp in their backyard among other hikers departing early Monday morning for the trail. 

From there Alfston, Hiren, Monica, and Lea and I spent a few minutes at the Mall picking up some food and clothes before heading for the La Jolla beach. At the pressure of my friends I got a pair of properly fitting lightweight pants for the trail. Apparently not good enough. Maybe tomorrow I'll try again wherever we go for the last of my goods. 

The cold ocean water always reminds me of something. This time it was how simultaneously frightening yet appealing I find the power in each wave. For the next few hours we bathed in all that is La Jolla Beach. Steep rocks, lead to a beach wide with sand. Clothing optional rules leave many without, and just enough discomfort for the rest of us to notice. 

We got a real kick out of watching a much older gentleman brazenly flirt with an attractive young model, both in the nude, rather successful. We took turns hypothesizing about the escalating circumstance before us. With questions unanswered a brave member of our watch party approached the man (once alone again) to inquire for some explanation. He didn't provide much in terms of wisdom. 

Back at the hostel we cleaned up and reconvened for dinner. With our small crew we spent until closing at a Mexican restaurant in conversation. High in spirits some went back out for the night life and others, myself included, stayed back for a more quite evening. 

Alfston's couch.  
5 mile run to Venice Beach with Hiren. 
SKatEbOardEd. 
Yoke free eggs. 
Water bottle shopping. 
Mock chicken.
Moody hotel. 
Very nice. 

I've accepted a trail name bestowed upon me by my clan. Its origin is in my mistaken forecast for rain on our first morning. Today, while resting beneath an overhanging rock, during the last leg of our massively intense journey toward Scissors Crossing, The Weatherman was solidified. It's not the sexiest name but sitting there post meditation, surrounded by all of these new friends its hard to deny the humour in such a name. So now The Weatherman serves as a token to the origin of my time with these goons (and a reminder to blunder with grace). To be determined if it sticks.
The days trek was challenging with immense heat and long water carries. At a point where I considered veering off trail to follow a road to a town closer to Julian, Jerome arranged for us to stay with a trail angel named Becky for the evening. With this update we enthusiastically journeyed the additional 9 miles to reach Scissors Crossing by 6:00pm.
There to greet us was another trail angel who goes by Ghost. After a few minutes of chatting Becky showed up and we split toward town for dinner at the Brewery. A few hours later she returned to bring us to her home for the evening. There she provided a shower, laundry room, and large yard to pitch camp. After a hot shower and load of laundry I quickly climbed into my familiar sleeping bag, just without the usual dirt.

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