For my forthcoming trip I really wanted to balance the desire to share with that of being untethered.

Not too long ago I thought to myself "I should hike the Pacific Crest Trail". All 2662 miles (4284 km) of it. In not too long I will try. Along the way I'm bound for some epic adventures. I'd love for a way to take my family and friends along for the journey, digitally that is. There's only one problem. I don't like social media.

I could probably write an essay arguing why but as the great Kevin Malone once said "why say lot word when few do trick". Social media sucks. It sucks for the addictive features, it sucks for the self-confidence busters, it sucks for the data lock ins, it sucks for the privacy invasions, it sucks for the platform restrictions, it sucks for the hate fueled conversations, and it sucks for the information bubbles. But everyone already knows these reasons and figure them an alright price to pay for dank meme wars. I get it. There are as many if not more upsides than downsides. But there's a reason social media sucks that maybe isn't mentioned as frequently as the others. Social media lacks context.

Everything shared on social media is a " moment". A single photo, story, video, tweet, or even link are all shared in isolation from one another. Yet that's not how things actually rarely are. Even a picture of an amazing vacation is greater in context to the previous weeks boring desk job. Yet these contextual bits of information are seriously lacking from any popular platform. Ephemeral moments competing for our fleeting attention. And all we're left with are particles of thoughts, experiences, and ideas.

There are certainly good reasons to use these platforms, and I probably will, but for my mental health and intellectual curiosity they rarely suffice. In regular life I do just fine as a passive lurker but for my forthcoming trip I really wanted to find a way to balance the desire to share with that of being untethered. A simple blog or public photo album would be an alright start but still too restrictive. I want to take my family and friends on the journey with me. Have them seen the things I'm seeing, understand the challenges ahead and behind, and get to peek into the day to day of their PCT thru-hiker. They should be able to ask how many miles did I walk today? What was the weather? Where did I start and finish? Who did I meet? What portion of the trail did I tackle? What night camping was it? What views did I wake up to? How was all this different from yesterday, or two weeks ago? Where will I be tomorrow or two weeks from now? All of these questions are real elements of an experience full of continual context not easily broken down into one off data, tweets, images, or stories.

My mission with this website is to create a place to share the journey in its continuum. Start to finish, in real time, with all the possible context of the experience itself. So I put together this site, a collection of realtime content from my journey, shared automatically in the background to my regular activities. 'Waypoints' are fetched from my Garmin tracker, 'Photos' from a Google Photos album, 'Words' my notes app, and 'Logs' the result of a Shortcut on my iPhone. It took a few trys to get right, and I fully anticipate Uncle Murphy to laugh at all efforts to prevent an implosion on day 1, but for now I'm glad about the results and excited to experiment with this form of journaling from the trail!

Todo: Organize a more in depth explanation of the technical implementations.

Pre Trail

General Info

• Official PCT site
• Pct Subreddit

Maps

• Google Map Version
• PCTA Interactive Map (Lots of layers to play around with)

Gps Data and Trail Notes I used these to learn more about what lies ahead. Practically all apps and maps I came across reference the "Halfmile" field data.

• Halfmile GPX data
• Halfmile Trail Notes
• Awesome collection of Map layers

Planning

• Gear, Surveys, Blog (Pretty sweet blog run by a guy named Mac)
• pctplanner.com (I haven't actually tried this site.)
• Hiker Food Database (from the GearSkeptic on YouTube)

On Trail

Getting to the trail

• Shuttle Service

Water Report A community led initiative to track the water status along the trail.

• https://pctwater.com
• Google Map Version
• Android App (experimental)

Mapping I will use a mix of custom map printouts, and digital data imports from the above resources.

• Gaia App (I imported the kml/gpx data from above resources)
• FarOut (Apparently very popular on trail for staying in the know)
• Garmin (Using an InReach2 for waypoint tracking. Also with imported layers.)
• All Halfmile Notes Minified (I made this easy 2 page print out for lightweight and quick offline info.)

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.

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.

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.

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 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.

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.

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.

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!

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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 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.

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.

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.

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.

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

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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!

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 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.