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 whateve