Alex Zinda PCT 2012-Mexico to Canada

Day 44 05/08 Familiar Faces

2012-12-24T01:29:00.002-08:00

I wish all readers happy holidays and a very Merry Christmas! Now that my bout with the flu is done, I can get this post up. Like I said, the story must be told, so I'm picking up as best I can where I left off!

...Continued from Day 43 "Deathmarch" ( Posted June)

Mileage: 23.7
Camp: 558.3

I slept three hours and woke up at 6:30am. I hadn't unpacked last night or even taken out my sleeping bag, I crashed right on the trail. I don't think Dan was awake yet. I would have heard him walking by.
I folded up my mat and continued on.
Not even a quarter mile into the day I came to the water source I'd been pushing to last night. There was a little bridge and a concrete shed and the spigot. I got excited. With this much man-made construction, it must be maintained pretty often!
Wrong.

I found the beautifully clean and rust free spigot next to the shed. It was famous for not being turned on this early in the season. I'd heard conflicting reports on whether or not it was.
It wasn't.
I searched around for a lever to turn it on, sometimes there is and you get lucky, but i found nothing but a big padlock keeping me from what i'm pretty sure activated the spigot.
Damn.
I'd be a little thirsty for a few more hours through the desert, but like I always say:
Will I be comfortable?
Probably not.
Will I live?
Yes.
Good thing I did the hot roadwalk at night.

Luckily it was just hot and not sweltering as it was mostly uphill through the dry wind farms. The trail gradually made its way towards a big V cut in the mountains in the distance, the only obvious access point into the next range.
I could care less about the climb, I was ready to get up above the arid desert floor.

Right before it hit the mountains, the trail dropped down into a steep canyon that hid a nice little rushing creek where I sat for a half an hour and took a break. I actually put music on, not through my earbuds but on speaker! It felt so odd to hear music aloud, I hadn't in so long.
I felt victorious knowing that I had finally caught up with Dan and was probably right behind Joe so I took my sweet time and laid out a sign made of rocks signaling Dan that I had been here and the time I came through.
I figured it was probably a waste of time and he would be coming over the top of the canyon any minute. Sure enough as soon as I sat back down on my extended victory break a lonely silhoutte crested the top of the canyon.
Dan the Iceman.:)

I yell up to him and he sees me and waves. The anticipation of seeing my buddy again, or any familiar face kills me as he makes his way down to the little creek. Im trying not to act like im excited, but I am.
He crosses the creek and we shake hands, both wearing big stupid grins. It's a happy reunion. He can't beleive I caught up. I ask about Joe. Dan's not sure where he camped, but I've been on the hunt for a week and been thinking about this all night. I'm pretty sure he camped near this water, he couldn't be more than a couple miles ahead of us.

Turns out he wasn't, but I wouldn't catch him til that night. Dan and I pushed near 24 miles to hitch into Mojave, and I was running on three hours sleep. After convincing my aching, incredulous feet to carry me the last ten miles to the highway, Dan and I stuck out our thumbs. We were ecstatic to have made it well before sundown. Pizza, junk food and Joe were just ahead.

We stood there and watched the cars pass us by. They were few and far between. Soon the sun was going down and we were concerned we weren't gonna get a ride.
Nobody was picking us up.

Joe texts us, he's at the Motel 6, he says he'll see us there. Damn that guy is good! I swear Joe is the master of hitching. After all, he's hitched over 30,000 miles in his lifetime and across the states several times, but he had only barely beat us to the highway! How did he get picked up so quick?

Finally after what seems like eternity we get a ride into town. Dan and I split a room, and Joe comes over.
Im grateful to finally have caught up with them after these insane last two days. Joe is astonished that I did. The feeling I have is an incredible one.
I can't believe im here in the same room with Joe and Dan again after separating at the Cajon Pass, and even though it had been a dream of mine to hike the San Gabriel's alone, I'm grateful to be back with my buddies. These guys are quickly becoming like brothers to me.
I'm laying in my bed dreaming of rest and my zero tommorrow after 60 miles with a three hour nap when Joe breaks the news that he's leaving the trail.

What?
I knew that he would have to leave the trail eventually, he had mentioned before that he would be leaving twice, once to surprise his wife for their wedding anniversary and once for a family reunion, but so soon?
Right after I fought to catch him, to create the A-team to tackle the Sierra's with Dan and I? This larger than life figure, who had become both an inspiration and a role model was here for this moment but would soon be gone again?

He wouldn't be zeroing with us tommorrow, but instead heading out early to get as far as he could before he had to hitch out and catch a train north to Washington.
We said our goodbyes and Joe went back to his room to sort his resupply and get ready for the morning.

Dan and I weren't ready for bed, we were in a motel 6 :) (might as well have been the Four Seasons, that's how it felt to us) and we had a TV and a plethora of junk food from the store.
I'm pretty sure we left the TV on all night.
It wasn't hard to fall asleep, but one of my favorite phrases kept running through my mind as I drifted off...
The trail never ceases to surprise.
Except this time the surprise wasn't so good.
How bittersweet...I worked so hard to catch these two only to have to say goodbye again?
At least the Iceman wasn't going anywhere.
He was knocked out in the other bed, still sitting up, drink can in hand. :)

Dear Anonymous,

2012-12-20T03:52:00.003-08:00

Three months back.

And still when I’m asked what it was like, I open my mouth and have no words. A thousand scenes play through my head as I search for a way to put it into a sentence and I settle for “amazing,” or “life changing.”

2668 miles.

I was fine the whole ride home, more than fine, I felt great! I’d just finished the trip of a lifetime, easily the coolest thing I’d ever done. Confident as hell, I stepped off the train in L.A. to see my parents and girlfriend waiting in anticipation, huddled together and craning their necks to find me in the crowd. I was immediately overcome with an insane sensation only possibly described as emotion the second I saw their faces.

1400.1 miles

yosemite

path of a glacier

the one and only yeti

mile marker

Liane on ascent to muir pass

niko on a special misson

I talk about the hike to people when they ask, and sometimes when they don’t :) It seems that few people I know can truly understand what a thru hike could be like and I can only tell so many stories before I tempt my family to announce another ”BACK on The TRAAIIIL” joke in an old man voice.

But i'm finding normal life isn't as satisfying anymore. Instead I’m having flashbacks, at work or in traffic, triggered by a phrase or a picture and suddenly im spinning back to some creek in the woods or some vista in the grand mountain ranges the trip crossed.

I know others are, too. I get two word texts in the middle of the night.

Lone Pine.

South Lake.

An awesome couple of days in a desert town or an unpredictable side trip to escape the Sierras in search of more food, two words bring me back to any moment so vividly I can almost feel the sweat on my skin, the pack hugging my body.

The trail underneath my feet.

Frozen lake

Once in a lifetime sunset, Northern Washington

mile marker

Wow.

Me and my 165 mile partner Giant Slingshot

My mind races to the next adventure, whether it’s a thru hike or not. I’d do it again if I could, in a heartbeat. It felt like five years of life in six months, every day completely new and foreign and challenging. I never really understood it before when I read “you are always in the present on the trail.”

But now I do.

If someone told me to be ready to go tomorrow morning with my bag packed, we’re headed for the Mexican border, I would. I’d do it all again.

Mostly I go to work, try and figure out a way to save money again and re-assimilate back into normal society where water comes out of a tap and your day isn’t planned around it. I keep a lot of the memories to myself so I don’t talk my family to death, which I’m convinced is possible.

view west from the knife's edge

However like those texts, anonymous comments come in the middle of the night that let me know I am not off the hook.

The story must be told.

"O CANADA" Slingshot Challenge!!!

2012-09-05T12:12:00.001-07:00

Mile
2200

Dan and I are taking a break by a spring at mile 2163 when we see this stick, (or rather a small dead tree) sticking up out of the ground like an upside down Y.
I joke about making it into a giant "ultralight" slingshot and carrying it to Canada and firing it at the border. Dan dares me $200 to do it.
Dan Is serious when he bets. He didn't think I would.
I snapped the dead tree in half and slung it over my shoulder.
502 miles to go!
The way I figure it, I was unemployed before. Now I make .40 cents a mile! :)

Right now the 8lb hunk of wood has made it 37 miles. Most thru hikers are betting against me, that my beloved ultralight slingshot won't make it to Canada.
What do you think?
Bet me 10 cents a mile I can't carry this thing 500 miles.
I'm betting I can. :)

Still Going! Update!

2012-08-14T14:00:00.003-07:00

Hey guys,

I have not had any data service for quite some time, and my Dad is posting this note for me. My time in the towns is basically for resupply, showers, laundry, and few calls home. I am in Oregon approaching the 2000 mile mark. I plan to be done sometime in September. I have been writing all along the way and will update the rest of the Blog when I get home. I will also reach out to all of you who have supported me along the way! I can't wait to see you all or catch up with you over the internet!

Alex

Day 43 05/07 Deathmarch

2012-06-23T23:15:00.001-07:00

Mileage: 37.8
Camp: 534.6

I woke up around nine o'clock, in no rush. Seems like I always get the best sleep once the sun comes up.
I broke camp and hunted down that water tank. It wasn't in the bushes or just off the trail, I ended up having to go up one of those OHV roads and turn down another. I lifted the steel plate lid off and filled up with three liters. I made sure I used the steripen this time; I'd read of mice and squirrels falling in this one.
The water had an off taste to it, but it's what I had. Can't be picky in the desert.
I hit 500 after a few miles and there was actually a sign this time!
I was kind of sad I didn't have to make one out of rocks.
Finally the trail started to descend!
Down, down, down I went all afternoon until finally I hit the flats. The trail almost disappeared into picturesque fields of wild grasses. Sometimes I just had to head the general direction I knew I was going.
I got to the Hikertown Hostel at mile 518.4 just after 6:00pm. This would have been a great place to end the day, but this is where I believed Dan and Joe's day began.
Plus I had skipped the Anderson's to catch up with them. I couldn't stop now.
I walked inside the gate and rang the bell like the sign said. No one came out. I filled up my water reservoir at the spigot and continued on.
The sun began to set as I got to the aqueduct. Thank God. That meant I got to walk dirt roads for the next 20 miles or so. Normally, that would mean you'd bake alive and you'd be cursing it. But for me it would be night. That meant a wide, stone-free path, generally even flat.
I walked until well after dark. I sat against the giant iron aqueduct pipe (the only wind shelter) and cooked my dinner. I had a guest, a beggar kangaroo rat that stayed just out of the light from my headlamp but never more than a yard away.
Soon I was walking again.
The moon came up, an hour later than normal. It gradually went from orange to white as it rose higher in the sky.
I walked. And walked. And walked some more.
I'd always wondered how far I could go in a day.. How long I could hike.
Tonight I'd get to put myself to the test.
Everything takes on a sinister costume in the night- a tree or a bush can look like a person or a piece of rope a snake. I even came up on some cows in the middle of the night and couldn't tell what they were until I was right on the other side of a fence and they were staring me in the face.
They seemed just as surprised to see me.
Hours went by and I continued on. I finally began to see the giant wind turbines above me. Every once in a while a breeze would blow and one of the giant blades would turn and let out a metallic groan that would catch me off guard and echo for miles.
At 2:30am I passed what looked like a bag of trash in the bushes on the side of the road.
I had a weird feeling, so I turned on my headlamp (I'd been hiking without it to save battery) to see.
I jumped. It was a body!
Finally I had caught Dan.
Cocooned in his black mummy bag he was sound asleep. I was so ready to quit for the night but I didn't wanna wake him up and scare the hell out of him at two thirty in the morning so I kept walking. My feet screamed at me to stop. Every step made them throb and ache in pain but I kept going. I was almost to a small bridge where there was supposed to be a water spigot when I heard a pack of coyotes screaming and crying up ahead.
It made my blood run cold.
Any of you who ever grew up with coyotes or had them around your neighborhood know the horrible sound of them catching their prey. One two of them isn't bad. They'll run from you. But five or six of them? They can take down a deer. They're vicious in a pack.
I could hear them just around the corner ahead. At least five or more, screaming and howling. They'd definitely caught something and were in a frenzy. I didn't wanna walk into that, so at 3:30am I laid down my mat a quarter mile short of my goal and knocked out. I was happy with how far I'd come.
The water would have to wait til morning.
If it was even there.

Day 42 05/06 Hot Hot Hills

2012-06-23T21:11:00.001-07:00

Mileage: 20.8
Camp: 496.8

Man it was hot today. I woke up sweating. I had made camp right on the trail up on the side of a mountain. I was fully exposed in the sunlight so I packed up and ate while on the move.
Eventually the trail ascended into more wooded area and I had a little shade. I was cooling off and moving at a pretty good pace when I walked around a corner and nearly had a heart attack. Some animal- some thing- was in the bushes. Something I didn't recognize. For half a second it scared me, it was like a gnome or something.
As soon as I could see it clearly it was obvious it was a doll.
A creepy ass doll.
Who would hide it in the bushes?
I saw a ton of tracks today. I see deer tracks a lot now, and so don't take many pictures of them, but the mountain lion tracks are still pretty impressive.
I actually met someone restocking a water cache today! What is the timing of that! Kind of cool that I got to thank them in person. Thanks Kimberly Powell Flores! If there was no water there, that section would have been horrible.
I hiked again until about nine o'clock. I came to the intersection of four dirt OHV roads high in the mountains after dark.
It was pretty windy, just windy enough that I was having second thoughts about cowboy camping. There was nowhere up here to tuck out of the wind.
There was supposed to be a big concrete fire tank up here with water, but I couldn't find it anywhere. It was way too dark. It would have to wait til morning, I had enough to last til then.
I set up my tent and was staring at the stars. I hadn't been there three minutes when one of the biggest spiders I've ever seen crawls up the mesh on my tent and over my face.
Inches away.
It had to be a tarantula but it kind of looked like the wolf spiders we used to have back in Tenneseee when I was a kid.
I roll to get my camera and turn back and the thing is GONE. I hurriedly checked the zippers on my tent to make sure they were closed. I definitely had no regrets on setting up my tent tonight.
God, I wonder what crawls on me when I don't?
I don't wanna know.

Tommorrow, I'm thinking about going for it. Going all out. Try to catch Joe and Dan.
Dan had a day on me, Joe more than two. Now, according to the registers they're only a day ahead.
I think it's possible.
Tommorrow, deathmarch.

Day 41 05/05 Cinco de Mayo

2012-06-23T19:57:00.001-07:00

Day 41 05/05 Cinco de Mayo

Mileage: 21.1
Camp: 476

I cleaned up my stuff at the Saufley's and got ready to go. I was taking my time. I was gonna miss this place. What hiker wouldn't? The Saufleys had displayed such hospitality that it truly lives up to the name Hiker Heaven. It reminded me a little bit of home. I think everyone who comes through there sees home in some way.
I double checked to see if I left anything and said bye to the two other hikers there, Orange Ranger and Pockets.
I knew I'd see them again somewhere North.
I don't think the Saufleys were up yet when I left. I said goodbye to the horses as I went out the back gate.
I walked the mile into town and ate at the Sweetwater Cafe. I had a very good breakfast before I left-two eggs, hash browns, 4 strips of bacon and huge biscuits and gravy all for $8.49!
I was sad to leave.
I walked the trail out of town past ranches and horse corrals, and the occasional small farm with a mini ghost town on it. It's so cool to see all of the vintage gas pumps and signs around.
The day was hot but as I rose into the hills, the wind picked up and it would dry the sweat in seconds.
I went around mountain after mountain, the trail winding like a dusty snake in the chaparral and manzanita.

Near sunset I came across the famous Anderson's cache. I hadn't expected much because I'd heard it was empty. Boy was I surprised. They must have just stocked it. It was like a hidden kid's fort in the bushes, except replace all the toy guns and stick swords with beer and lawn chairs.
There must have been 50 gallons of water there, along with soda of all kinds and over 50 beers. I took two beers for later and moved on, I wanted to get a little further tonight.

I took a break as the sun went down. I watched the sky change colors while I ate dinner. Then I hiked on into the night. The trail was wide and easy to follow through the darkness. I rose higher and higher into the hills as it got gradually darker. I walked until about 9:30pm, when I started to see a glow behind the mountains. This was it.
I stopped and laid down my footprint and got ready to cowboy camp.
I cracked open one of the beers as the moon rose crested over the mountainside and lit everything like it was daylight.
Tonight the moon was closer than it's been in years. It appeared huge in the sky, like you could reach out and touch it. It won't be this close again until the 70's.
The 2070's.
I drank my two beers as I watched the moon rise. Luckily the night kept the Natty Ice cold.
Happy Cinco de Mayo to me.

Day 37-40 05/01-04 Comin' Thru

2012-06-23T16:50:00.001-07:00

05/01
Mileage: 24
Camp: 424.8

Ive been moving pretty decently these last couple days. It's been nice hiking alone. I'm not seeing many day hikers at all. In the solitude of the forest I have nothing but the wind on the mountain to listen to.

I'm really tired at night now. It's like as soon as I'm done eating I wanna knock out and it's hard to keep my eyes open. I'm usually already in the bag while I'm cooking because of the cold nights. As soon as I'm full, it's lights out.
These mountains have been really pretty.Even the burned areas have their own creepy character. It's always kind of like seeing the skeleton of a forest that used to be. I had no idea how much wilderness area is this close to L.A.! It's hard to think that Hollywood is probably twenty or thirty miles as the crow flies. It might as well be a million.

05/02
Mileage: 20
Camp: 444.8

8:00am
So there's a KOA campground twenty miles from here. Why is that important, you ask? Because in that campground, there's a miniature store. And in that store, they sell FOOD. The trail notes even say there's ice cream. It doesn't even matter, I'll eat whatever's there! I only have the bad food left. I'm gonna pack up and move out.

10:00am
There's this new problem here in these old burn areas, a plant called poodledog brush. Its a resinous plant that if you rub against it has the potential to rash and blister horribly. Thing is, it can happen up to ten days later. Apparently it puts some people in the hospital. I'm trying to go fast but it's infested with this stuff here. I spend alot of time weaving through it, but it's impossible not to touch. Im Wearing long pants and keeping my sleeves down though. I should be ok. What I'm really worried about is I won't make it in time before the store closes.
3:00pm
Met a trail crew. They think the store's open til 9:00pm to serve the people in campers who live there. Nice!
5:45pm
I got off the PCT and practically ran the half mile or so down the road to the KOA.
I didn't make it. :( I stood there staring at the door to the shop, devastated.
There's food on the other side of that door.
And I can't have it til morning.
So frustrating.
I'm about to find a place to camp when I meet this guy, I think his name was John Coburn. He'd hiked parts of the trail before and was out to hike the section I just did with his dog. They were camped nearby.
Having hiked on the PCT John probably had a pretty good idea of what was going through my mind when he walked up and saw me staring through the glass door of the closed convenience store.
He offered me quesadillas and an ice cold Sierra Nevada pale ale. He even paid the $5 thru hiker rate for me to sleep there that night, because I had no cash and would have had to hike back to the trail!
Talk about true trail magic. Thanks for making a bad night pretty good, John. I'll make sure I pay it forward.

05/03-04
Mileage: 10.1
Camp: 454.9

John and his dog left early in the morning. I woke up in my tent when he said goodbye but I didn't feel like I had thanked him enough, I was half asleep. Really nice guy.
I got to sleep on grass last night, that's so unusual. You never see grass on the PCT like the grass in towns.
I packed my camp before the store opened and waited patiently in anticipation. Ok maybe crazily in anticipation. I felt like a fiend outside of Walmart on black Friday at 3:59am.
As soon as those doors open...
GO!
Snickers. Check. Gatorade, check. Fast breaks. Grab 'em. No Oreos. Damn. Chips Ahoy! That's fine, I'll take those. The famous ice cream chest. I look around, ready to throw elbows. No one's gonna stop me.
Wait. There's no one else in the store.
I buy my junk food in peace and head back down the road to the PCT, pint of ice cream and mini wooden spoon in hand.
Happy. Full.
My solar charger didn't get a good charge yesterday, and my phone's gonna die. That's ok, only ten miles to the Saufley's. Then I can get more food in Agua Dulce.
Maybe pizza. :)

My phone did die. Really bad timing too because the last few miles before the trail runs into Agua Dulce were amazing! The Vasquez rocks were stunning and a complete change of scenery from what I've seen in the mountains so far. The rocks there looked more like they belong on the bottom of the ocean. Nothing but giant sandstone boulders that tower over you like sculptures with caves and pockets that catch the light in peculiar ways.
It actually wouldn't be bad to check out from the road, you can walk right into it and see it all in an hour.
I got into Agua Dulce, a nice little equestrian town, in the afternoon. I got pizza at the pizza parlor (AMAZING) and called Donna Saufley, a trail angel who hosts thru hikers at her 'hiker heaven'. I didn't want to just show up unannounced. Maybe she needed time to prepare?
Donna laughed at that and thought it was nice that I called first, people rarely did.
I took two steps onto her street and some gentlemen picked me up in their MULE!!!

When I got to her house, I see why she laughed.
Donna didn't need to prepare for me. Donna was prepared for the apocalypse of thru-hikers.
I got there, and there was a system. As soon as I closed the gate behind me, I was ushered through and given the treatment.
"To the left, loaner clothes tent. Here's your basket. Pick out some loaner clothes, bring dirty's back to me, I'll wash them."
She took me to one of several trailers, where I got a nice room with a clean bed, and a towel and a shower.
She had every type of shipping box and mail supplies in the garage. There was no post office in Agua Dulce, Donna was the post office for us thru hikers. USPS and UPS deliver right to her house. She even has a postal scale!
Soon my clothes were clean and washed and returned. She even knew to air dry the wool!
SQUARED AWAY. That's what I have to say about the Saufley's.
I didn't get many pictures. I was enjoying my rest too much to remember to take any.
I took a zero there and met Steve, Orange Ranger, Jesse James and Pockets. I got to pet Donna's horses and learned all about them. They're massive!
Pockets' dad came and bought us all pizza. That was incredible trail magic. It tasted great and was much appreciated. We had the first campfire of the season (at the Saufley's) that night. We couldn't believe we had the place to ourselves. We found out they're prepared to deal with 50 hikers at once for peak season, and they can handle more. They'll stack hikers like firewood.
We were lucky. I had my own bedroom.

Day 36 04/30 Flyin'

2012-06-22T22:20:00.001-07:00

Mileage: 23.1
Camp: 400.8

I woke up today right at 6:00 as the sun burst over the mountains behind Baldy and lit the bare summit where I slept. I was happy the wind had died down, but I hadn't slept well so I pulled the sleeping bag back over my head to shun the sun away.
I slept for another hour and a half and the sun continued to rise, despite my protests.
I was happy to be sleeping where my dream really began. I was even happier to find out I had fulfilled a second dream upon waking; clouds had moved in like a tide and covered the entire Inland Empire several thousand feet below me. I'd always wanted to be above the clouds on a mountain top.

I packed my stuff at a slow pace (I cowboy camped for the hell of it so I had no tent to pack up) and said goodbye to the peak.
I guess because the peak was mainly bald of trees, it got full sunlight and as a result no snow was left there. Within a quarter of a mile back down off the top to the PCT the snow was back. It was nice for a while because it was a little icy and I didn't sink during the traverses.
I watched the hundredth crow ( or raven?) battle another bird overhead as I followed a ridge top that curved around mountain after mountain.
They maneuver and dive at each other with the precision of fighter jets. Two, then three, four or more join in. Then they split up and go into pairs, each one riding the back of the other barely inches on near suicide dive bombs along the rocky pitch of the mountain.
They swirl constantly, trying to establish the dominant position. Every once in a while one will separate from the pack and ride the wind pushing up the mountain and it would push him in high above the rest. Them it would come careening down like a missile at a near vertical angle at another bird.
I stopped walking and stood there as they swooped low over my head and right in front of me, oblivious or unconcerned with me completely.
Every time I crossed the Angeles crest highway it would be completely empty, but very stunning how empty it was. This man made road cuts through the heart of the San Gabriel range, and I rarely see a car on it.
I see bear warnings everywhere. Thing is, Ive never heard or seen of a bear down here.
I'm gonna make 400 today. Im moving fast and feeling good.
I think Dan is a day or so ahead. Joe is more than two days, about 50 miles. I wanna catch them.
It's gonna be really hard to make up that mileage on them, especially when they're going to be doing decent miles every day too. It might take a week or two. Probably won't happen in these mountains, maybe in the desert ahead. But I'll catch them. :)

The suns going down but I want to make it to 400. I push on as hard as I can. I'll go until I can't see tonight. Just about when I need to put on my headlamp, I see the rock outline 400 Joe made several days ago on the ground. I snap a picture and move forward. Camp is .8 miles away.
I get to camp and it's a remote boyscout cabin. It looks warm but it's locked. I set up my tent behind it near some picnic tables.
Its dark now in the woods. Really dark. I climb in my bag and stare blindly into the blackness outside my tent.
I don't know what all these bear signs are about but I'm not taking any chances. I sleep next to my food.
I'll punch that bear in the face before I give up my Cheetos.

Day 35 O4/29 Baden Powell

2012-06-22T21:54:00.001-07:00

Mileage: 11.7
Camp:387.7

Soon my Dad is dropping me back off at the Vista Inspiration Point and I'm getting out of the car. I shake hands with Joe and Dan. Who knows when we'll see each other again.
If we do. The trail is like that.
We could be camped a few miles a part for a week straight and we'd never know.
My dad takes a picture of us before they get back in the car and drive off.
"The three musketeers," he says.
"Maybe the last time you'll be together. "
I'm feeling good. I'm back on the trail, back to the life.
And it's not as windy as it was last time I was here.
I hike fast with my mind full from town and only half the day left. It's not long before I come to the base of Mt. Baden Powell.
My favorite "sheep crossing" sign marks the start of four miles of ascending switchbacks. I know I won't be on them for long though. There's bound to be snow, it's 9399' and there's been snow way below that lately.
I pass hiker after hiker on their way down, all wearing confused looks on their faces. Their beast is conquered for the day; why am I heading up?
Some stop to ask.
A VERY thoughtful lady gives me her wetwipes. A brand new package. I'll need them more, she says.
Then this guy recognizes me from my hometown newspaper. That totally blew me away. Daniel Kingman, climbing Mt. Baden Powell for the day, wants to do the PCT one day.
Out of everyone I've met on the trail that says that he's the only one I've taken seriously. He talks about riding his motorcycle long distances across the U.S. He seems capable.
I think he'll end up doing it.
Maybe he will. Or maybe I'm just hoping he will to repeat the cycle.
Little does Daniel know but last year I climbed Mt. Baden Powell on a day hike just like him, around the same time. I met a thru hiker that day. That's one of the things that made me really wanna do the PCT.

I had hiked up Baden Powell when it was covered in snow, with only a stick when I should have had an iceaxe. Two miles in, before the snow two Germans decked out expensive gear are headed down. They tell me "It's too bad. It's too dangerous. Turn around."
I thanked them and said I was enjoying my hike and I'd turn around at the snow. It turned out to not be so bad. It was snowy and any sign of switchback or trail disappeared completely under the snow, and my path became straight up.

Eventually, I made it. There was no one else on top. I was proud. It was the tallest mountain I'd climbed yet.
It was late in the day. Just as I was about to leave the top several thru-hikers came up. I talked with them for an hour.
These people were hiking gods. This mountain meant nothing to them. It was simply in their way. One continued on!! It was almost dark, and this guy was still hiking in the snow? The other two were gonna sleep on this peak! This exposed, windy, rocky peak!
They obviously had experience, just from our conversation I could tell. I had heard of the PCT, but then I knew.
I had to do it someday.

A year later and it had actually happened. Suddenly I had become one of those thru hikers...this mountain was merely a stop on my path to Canada. What had seemed monumental before now seemed like an easy four miles to me. Enjoyable even. This was where it all began.

I get to the top and have it to myself. I find a couple of nice flat spots just off the peak and above the snowline, but I want to camp right on top.
Tippy top.
I lay out my cloth on the highest point on the mountain. This is where I'll camp under the stars. Just like the ones who I met that night a year ago.
The sun goes down and I watch a beautiful sunset. The San Gabriels roll on into the horizon in front of me, swathed in the pink light. I can see the city lights glowing in both the Inland Empire and the High Desert. It's beautiful. I'm grateful to be here.
I can't believe it's actually happened. I'm on this trip.
Thank you everyone who has helped me make this dream a reality. Especially my parents and Grandparents, who have given again and again to help make this happen.

I don't know what's ahead, but I'm excited. The wind is calm and the night is cool. I've never slept this high before. It's got to be great for acclimation.
I'm all alone up here. It's peaceful. I can see the cities below and the Milky Way above.

No, not the candy bar. :)

04/26-04/28 Kick-Off

2012-06-22T19:24:00.001-07:00

The Annual Day Zero Pacific Crest Trail Kick Off (ADZPCTKO) party was two days of organized chaos geared towards the orientation of new PCT hikers about to start their journey. Consisting of presentions, slideshows, small lightweight gear vendors, and of course partying, it's a lot to take in at once. Needless to say, there's also a couple hundred past and present thru hikers running around over the place.
Fragrant is not the word I would choose for our crowd.
There's also not an hour of the day where beer's not being consumed.
Rations, I think they call it.
It's hard to remember that most people here you could consider endurance athletes. New and old hippies run abound. Some people here are engineers and some have no job; what you were before the trail hardly matters.
We're up late at night around fires, drinking and watching people go off to bed one by one. Joe and Dan and I feel somewhat like veterans, with our 376 mile headstart on the pack. Word is, they issued 700+ permits this year, a record. The majority of them start in late April to May. We were out here easing into it in March, with the trail all to ourselves.
One cool thing about the weekend is my Dad decided to stay. We got to have some pretty good conversation by the lake about things we rarely talk about. Him and I have connected a lot more while I've been on this trip. The second night he stayed up with me and Dan by the fire and entertained us with crazy stories while we drank cheap beer. That was a pretty good night. I was glad he came.
Two highlights of the Kickoff that I found really interesting, that stood out:
1. 'One Pan Wonders' by Dicentra, two books on trail cooking that really expand your options for meals using what's available to you.
2. Six Million Steps: A Journey Inward, an interesting documentary about the PCT.
It felt good to be packing up and on the way back to the trail in my dad's car. I was excited to hit the trail again. We hit up a Denny's and I ordered as much food as I could eat. You know, the usual. Eggs, bacon, sausage, hash browns, and of course biscuits and gravy. There might have even been some French toast in there somewhere.
Below are some pictures of Joe holding normal size objects for scale.
Maybe it can help shine light on why he has been named Yeti.

Day 34 04/25 Appointments

2012-06-22T18:58:00.001-07:00

Mileage: 14
Camp: 376

I had debated whether or not to put the tent up last night and I'm glad I did. I prefer cowboy camping but when I stopped to camp wind was blowing through pretty decently and there were grey clouds on the horizon. I seriously doubted it would rain and set the tent up begrudgingly. At least it would get me out of the wind.
It ended up raining around midnight. I awoke to the soft patter on my rainfly and went back to bed happy it hadn't been a waste.

Unfortunately I hadn't come across water in a while and Id camped with .75 of a liter. To cook with and everything. I knew I'd spend a thirsty night but I had no choice. The next guaranteed water wasn't for 8-10 miles.
I woke up dehydrated and grumpy. The weather was testy outside. I called my dad before I left signal again. He informed me a photographer for my hometown newspaper would be coming to meet me and I had to book it.
I packed up and got on the move.
Luckily I had signal all day and I tried to coordinate with the photographer and my Dad as I sprinted the 14 miles to Vista Inspiration Point, the nearest road and point where they'd be meeting me.
However I felt exhausted and sick from the dehydration and the miniature storm that was blowing through the mountains couldn't decide if it was going to sleet or snow. I was slowed down everytime I had to take my rain gear on or off. I was heading uphill and I was sweaty; I didn't want it on if I didn't have to.
I came to water and took twenty minutes to right myself.
Hydrated and full of trail mix, I marched through the last miles over windy ridges and through the the Mountain High ski resort until a road became visible. That road was HWY 2, and soon the Vista Inspiration Point came into view.

I got there and it was just a flat empty piece of asphalt, not a car in the parking lot.
I did a tour of the bathrooms, and the photographer pulled up.
After we were done, he pulled away and I sat to wait for my Dad. It wasn't 15 minutes before he had me picked up and on the way back to their house for the trip down to the Annual PCT Kickoff Party in Lake Morena back by the border. My Dad would go find Joe and Dan in the morning and shuttle us down for two days and then back.
Tonight I felt like I got one free bonus night with my family.
On the way home I already had food on my mind.

Day 33 04/24 New Ground

2012-06-05T01:40:00.001-07:00

Mileage: 20
Camp: 362
The morning came and my time to see family was over. I couldn't believe how quickly it had passed. My dad drove me back down to the Cajon Pass behind the McDonalds and soon enough I was getting out of the car just like Dan and Joe.
I was sad to go but also excited. I was about to get the chance to hike the entire San Gabriel range, and I would do it alone.
That had been a dream of mine, before I ever imagined doing the PCT. When I used to run myself into the ground at work all day I would imagine escaping away to the mountains and hiking them end to end from the Cajon Pass to Agua Dulce. It seemed so huge of a trip to me. I'd have to take off more than a week from work!
I guess it's really put into perspective now.

I couldn't only not wait to tackle this range, I was excited to catch Joe and Dan. It would be a challenge, but if I move quickly enough I could do it. Joe was two days ahead, at least. Dan by a day.
That's maybe 20 miles to make up on Dan, double that for Joe?
I'll catch them. It'll be fun.
The day was long and all uphill, but for the first time I got to really see the Cajon Pass for all it's beauty, and not just an obstacle I've had to drive down.
The path led me through a culvert and up around the giant sandstone Mormon Rocks. I ran into two playing deer, who got away before I could snap a picture. The day was awesome, and I was motivated. Wrightwood was in twenty miles or so, but with a full week's worth of food I wouldn't have to stop.

Everything from this point forward was new ground. So far I at least vaguely knew the surroundings I was in but now everything was unfamiliar territory. 342 miles down, 2,323 to go. It had felt like enough of an accomplishment to get to my parents, but I was only 1/8th done. Everything in me was determined to continue.
The trail was becoming my home.
I was practically skipping. I went as far as I could for the day and made camp high on a switchback where I had an awesome view of my home below. The High Desert lit up like a sea of Christmas tree lights as the sun dipped below the mountains.
I even had signal.
It was a good day.

04/20-23 Hometown Hesperia

2012-06-04T03:27:00.001-07:00

The last few days have been awesome. I don't even know what to say, other than it went by too fast.

We came in on Thursday night and my dad had been waiting to intercept us on the trail. That was pretty awesome, and even better when he sprinted back to the car to drive the last hundred yards closer to us.
He even ran me through the Mickey D's drive thru to get my sacred number two cheeseburger meal, even though we'd be having pizza for dinner in an hour or so.
Like I said before, appetizer. :)
A lot happened this weekend, and it's kind of a blur. I didn't take too many photos, I was all caught up in visiting everyone. I did get a good one of Joe fresh off the trail on my parents couch though. That one struck me as really interesting. On the trail, he's Joe the grand storyteller, adventurer and larger than life personality. He doesn't ever look dirty or homeless to me. I guess cause I'm dirty too. Everyone on the trail is. It's all relative.
But on my mom's couch he looks like a dirty, dirty bum.
Hilarious.
On Friday I go to take Joe to a foot doctor ( to check on his horrendous multi layered blisters and loose toenails) and Dan from Florida calls me up.
Joe and I like Dan, he's the only familiar face we've seen consistently since Mt. Laguna, mile 43. He's a pretty relaxed guy, and always looking for his next snowboarding fix.
He'd hurt his foot up in Big Bear, maybe broke it. I'd told him I'd be off trail for a few days soon and could take him to a clinic if he needed it. He wanted to know if I still could, and it was no problem, so I dropped Joe off at his doctor and picked up Dan at te Cajon Pass MCD's and drove him down to a clinic.
Two hrs later, and good news! Joes feet aren't rotting and Dan's foot bones aren't broken! (just very bruised.)
Everyone's elated from the good luck. We made a quick trip to the pharmacy and then spent two hours drooling over new gear at the Rancho Cucamonga REI.
Dan needed a day off too so he decided to come up and meet my parents and take a zero. His foot needed the rest more than he wanted it. My dad practically forced an ice bath on Dan's feet. Joe and I laughed at Dan's torture. He was too nice to say no.
It's good for him :)
That night my girlfriend came up to my parents' to stay for the weekend. It was really cool to see her, and for her and my family to meet Joe and Dan. It was gonna be the perfect weekend off. I even got to see my two little sisters bust a synchronized dance to the song "single ladies."
I was dying.
That night Joe treated all of us to Outback steakhouse!
I had all these plans for ribs, but then something on the menu caught my eye. A BBQ bacon cheeseburger.
It's like my Achilles heel. I can't resist.
Thank you for an awesome meal, Joe. That was really cool. Especially when you turned around and bought us all food again at El Tio Pepe's.
Above and Beyond, man. Thank you.
At different times I took Joe and Dan back to the Cajon Pass.
When I dropped Joe off, he turned back to say bye.
He put on his desert hat and in an instant Joe Barbera became...
...the Yeti!!
That's his trail name now. On the PCT we all get names. Somehow, somewhere, someone names you a quirky name for something you've done or do in trail life, blah blah blah. I named Joe the Yeti because time and time again he'll be just ahead, on the other side of a canyon wall or up a couple switchbacks and he will always turn around to make sure he can still see me. Being a big dude and wearing all white, from far away he looks just like an abominable snowman.
Except Yeti's easier to say. :)
Watching Joe and Dan walk off made me anxious to get back on the trail.
Soon.
I got to see my Grammy and Poppy
( mom's mom and dad) and that was really nice. I missed them alot and I was really grateful to see them even for a short period of time. Luckily I got to spend most of Sunday with my grandpa like I always do when I get a free Sunday and we got our classic breakfast at the SpringHouse Restaurant and went to the Bass Pro Shop. I had a blast.
Eventually, I had to take my girlfriend home to Orange County, and I had to "pack my pack" back up and get ready to hit the trail again.
I was sad to leave.
I'd looked forward to this visit the whole trip so far and now it was already over. It was a bittersweet moment when my Dad dropped me off at the Cajon Pass; I was sad to go but everything from this point forward would be completely new territory.
I was now past my home base- for me everything north was unexplored ground, and I was excited to hike through the San Gabriels. I'd driven by those mountains on the way to work countless times and daydreamed about hiking them from end to end before I'd ever known about the PCT.
I had the whole hike ahead of me. But that's ok.
I felt refreshed.
Motivated.
Ready to conquer the rest of the trail.

Day 32 04/19 Into the Pass

2012-06-04T01:30:00.001-07:00

Mileage: 20.5
Camp: 342

I couldn't believe it when I heard a rooster at dawn. I remembered the ranch below. The cows started to stir and the birds came out with their song as the morning dew began to evaporate and the sun rose into the sky.
I was excited. This was the day!
I'd finally be home. One more day- and I'd be sleeping in town with a full belly in the company of my family in a familiar place.
Home.
Just twenty miles left to the Cajon Pass. Then I'd get a few days with my family and loved ones. Like a mini vacation.
Honestly, Ive been looking forward to this the entire trip. It's been motivating. Make it three hundred miles, and I get to see my family and girlfriend.
I can't wait.
Today was going to be really fun for me because I knew this whole area we were in pretty well- I went to high school in the nearby town. What I didn't know was exactly how the trail goes from where it comes out by the Dam behind my grandparents house all the way down to the Cajon Pass- and I was interested to find out.
After leaving our camp perched high on the trail above the ranch, we made our way through rolling desert hills to Silverwood Lake. I'd driven by there a bunch of times, but it was cool to see it up close and not from inside a car. The trail was clear of downed trees and very well maintained. So nice on the feet.
From there it was uphill toward Cajon Mountain. I thought we were going to pass right by it- theres a really cool burned out fire tower there and I was excited to show Joe-but at the last minute we cut away and up another canyon that was more isolated. It was a long, sweaty slog uphill.
When we got to the crest of the canyon I could see exactly where we were. I had a view of the entire HWY 138 from Silverwood down to the Cajon Pass. We were taking the route of the powerlines- it looked like we'd be following those all the way down to the McDonalds, which was smack in the middle of the Pass.
We worked our way down through beautiful backcountry canyons that I'd driven through a hundred times or more. I was glad to be in familiar territory.
We hiked for two more hours down grassy hills that had eroded away on one side like they'd had a cross section taken. The only sound was the occasional horn of the nearby trains.
We had a good pace going and were motivated by food and the upcoming hospitality. We had smiles on our faces the whole time. I finally let myself think about the meals I was going to have.
Cheeseburgers. Pizza. Bacon. Riiiibbbsss.... :)
I think I had the next ten meals planned out. But one thing was for sure-As soon as I got to the Pass, I was going straight to McDonalds for a number two:
Two cheeseburgers, fries and a coke.
We'll call it an appetizer.
As the day was coming to an end and we only had an hour or two left I thought about seeing my family and what we'd talk about. What Id say. Everything I wanted to tell them about.
I didn't even know how to explain everything I've experienced when I finally see them.
It's been barely a month, but I feel like I've been gone three times that long. I feel like I've changed. I know I've made somewhat of an inner transformation. I feel more confident than I ever have. I feel free. I feel appreciative.
I take a lot less for granted, for sure.
People can say the trail doesn't change you, but it does. Maybe not all the time in an obvious way. But in only three hundred forty miles, I knew I was changing.
It was getting close; within three miles of our goal and as Joe likes to say, we were "cooking."
I see some guy up ahead on a ridge heading towards us. First thought was a day hiker, but this guy was moving way too fast. He had to be one of us. But a southbounder this soon?
"We've got company, two o'clock."
I let Joe know.
Running into people was always an entertaining event for us. There's often no one around for days at a time.
We get closer, and I'm keeping an eye on this guy. There's something odd about him. For some reason he went in the bushes and started watching us. I can't quite see what he's doing.
We come around the last bend, and I think I'm gonna meet another thru hiker, and it's my Dad!!
I can't help but grinning ear to ear as we come up on him, and he's snapping away with his camera.
"How did you know when we'd be here!?" I asked/yelled.
We hadn't had any signal all day. I wondered if he'd been waiting long.
Apparently he'd calculated how long it would take us to get from where I hit the SPOT transponder last night to the McDonalds based on our mileage and pace, and approximated when to intercept us.
Smart dude.
That was such a nice suprise, to get to hike the last couple miles in with my Dad. He kept trying to take pictures of us hiking naturally, but I couldn't stop smiling like a goofball. My Dad was psyched about the whole PCT trip, and that was so cool to me. He had gone out of his way to come meet us. And on top of it all we wouldn't even have to wait for a ride!
He let us know that hot showers and beds and a Pizza dinner would be waiting for us in Hesperia- it sounded like heaven.
We came out behind the Mickey D's just before 7:30pm. I felt like a million bucks. I wish my dad could do the whole thing with me. It was fun to catch up with him. We had a lot to talk about. It was the perfect way to end the hiking for the day.
As my feet touched the asphalt of the Cajon Pass it hit me.
I'd made it.
I'd succeeded in my personal goal of making it through the first section of this long journey. It had been huge for me, to make it to the Pass. I know my folks and everyone I knew was secretly watching and wondering...In this first three hundred forty two miles, would he sink or swim? Getting to the Cajon Pass was confirmation for not only myself but everyone I know that I knew what I was doing (id like to think that)
and that I could actually do this.
I'm swimming, people.
Swimming strong.
Ain't nothing gonna sink me. :)

Day 31 04/18 Deep Creek

2012-06-03T23:35:00.001-07:00

Mileage: 19.6
Camp: 321.5

He loses, I find.
It's late at night. That means the sun is down. Joe and I are sitting on our footprints (ground cloths) that overhang off the side of the two foot wide trail where we're camped.
We're cooking and laughing, high off our stories of the trail and breaking personal records when I hear a crash in the bushes below.
Far below.
"Dude, did you drop anything?" I ask.
"What do you mean?"
"Like did your stuff just roll off this cliff?"
"No, I don't think so."
"You're not missing anything."
"Nope."
Joe goes on about his business.
I'm not convinced.
I'M definitely not missing anything. It wasn't an animal. It was a
"Doomf Doomf CRASH."
Very specific. Tumbling and weeds breaking.
As hard of hearing as I can be, this guy either legitimately didn't hear it or was in denial.
I stand up in the dark and start climbing down the steep hill.
"What are you doing?" he yells down.
"I'm not gonna sit up there anymore, thats gonna get anything back! I'll let you know from the bottom."
I wanna find out what it is. What did Joe lose this time?
I almost walked right past, it's black rounded shape lodged under a bush, almost lost in the dark.
"UHH... YEAH...YOU MIGHT WANT THIS," I yell up.
"What? What is it?"
I made him wait til I got back up there, huffing and puffing with his treasure in hand.
His $300 Mountain Hardware sleeping bag.
Joe is astonished.
It was warm, we hadn't gotten in our bags yet.
He would have figured it out eventually.
So that's one down jacket ($200)+
one down bag ($300)+ sunglasses ($60), a tyvek footprint($10) and one croc shoe ($??) totaling=
-----------------
a ton of money.

Joe said it best.
"What would I do without you, kid?"

We got up early this morning, packed up and got on the move. Not half of a mile later we're at a river crossing and I go to take a picture and realize I don't have my phone/camera.
I frantically check my pockets.
It's gone.
Last place I remember it was in my sleeping bag last night when I fell asleep. I didn't remember picking it up this morning. And I double checked our site before we left like I always do...
Oh God.
It must have slid off that cliff in the middle of the night just like Joes sleeping bag.
Joe took a break while I ran back to our camp, uphill. I hoped to encounter Dan holding up my cell phone.
"Looking for this?" I'd imagine him say.
Nope. No Dan. I had to go all the way back to our campsite. And even if Dan had got up early and come through here already he wouldn't have found it.
Guess where it was?
At the bottom of that steep hill. Right were I found Joes bag last night.
After that debacle we hiked along Deep Creek for the majority of the day. Unfortunately we skipped the hot springs, but we were making excellent time.
As we got closer to the Mojave Dam I was disappointed to see that the part of the trail closest to my hometown of Hesperia was the only part of the trail with graffiti. And it was covered in it, all the way up the canyon to the Hot Springs.
The spillway was massive. I don't see this thing ever getting used. There would have to be a flood of biblical proportions for Deep Creek to fill enough to come over.
After that was a river, our first real river that we had to ford. It went smoothly despite sinking into the riverbed a little bit. I did it without my boots on. The sand below my feet formed little dunes.

We hiked a little more into an area of the trail that looked less used by the locals. It led into a little grove of trees and green area that completely suprised me. I was from the nearby town. I didn't know there was anything this pretty this close! It looked like we had crossed into another world.
We camped above a beautiful high desert ranch as the sun began to set. Being from Hesperia, I was glad to see that there were places nearby that more than made up for all the graffiti earlier in the day.

Day 30 04/17 300

2012-05-16T00:32:00.001-07:00

Mileage: 20.3
Camp: 301.9

It got cold in the middle of the night. I woke up around two or three and my sleeping bag was covered in ice. The inside of my bag was dry and the sky was still clear, so I went back to sleep.
In the morning when the sun rose I was surprised to find not only was I coated in ice but my pack was too.
My water tube and boots ( wet from yesterday's snow) had frozen solid. It must have been the condensation from the stream right by us. Everything got covered in dew, which had then frozen. I was glad I had cowboy camped and didn't have to mess with drying off my tent.
I watched the sun light up the hill above us and inch closer to our camp. As soon as it did I hung my sleeping bag over the steel bars of the horse corral to thaw and dry.
I sat in silence on the picnic table and closed my eyes. I could feel the sun's radiant warmth on my skin.
Last night was cold. I definitely need to look into getting proper long underwear. Either that or a better down bag.
Dan started to stir and then Joe. They slowly got up and hung their bags next to mine. They wanted to know why I was sitting barefoot on the table. The ground hadn't thawed yet; neither had my shoes. They both carried flip flops for camp. I didn't want the extra weight and had gotten by without them. They would have been nice this morning, but Joe's boots dried the quickest so I put on his size 14's and clomped around in them like clown shoes while we packed up camp.
After each taking a turn in the completely overbuilt solar powered fortress of a toilet some boy scout troop had constructed (SO NICE) we booked it. We left all traces of ice behind and the snow turned into the gushing waters of Holcomb Creek. We followed it and a couple river crossings later the canyon walls were getting higher and the creek getting deeper. We were coming to the head of Deep Creek. We crossed a really cool bridge that was in the middle of nowhere and would have been extremely difficult to assemble on site. From the middle of the bridge I could see fish swimming in the waters below.
We passed Dan's camp as the sun was getting low. He'd found a good spot and it didn't look like there was gonna be anywhere else decent to set up. The trail was barely two feet wide cut into the steep rock walls above the river. He thought we were nuts for wanting to keep going, but we wanted to accomplish our goal.
Soon the sun was going down, and we were chasing it along the creek. It was like a game, walking as fast as we could around each of the giant curves of the canyon. Out of the shadow and into the light, back into the shadow, will there still be light around the next bend?
We weren't stopping til we hit 20. I wanted that damn merit badge and I could tell Joe wanted it bad too.
I don't know if I've explained the merit badges of trail goddom yet. It's a running joke between Joe and I based on Boy Scout merit badges where you earn them when you beat hard-to-get goals related to thru-hiking. Ill put up a list of all the different ones soon.
Getting our 20 meant we were out of our "easing into it" stage and we'd soon be doing a lot more mileage consistently. We didn't do the AT (Appalachian Trail) before this.
In fact I did almost no physical preparation for this trip at all! That's why I figured I'd start early, take my time and ease into it to avoid getting injuries like shin splints. 300 miles later and 16 lbs lost and I'm feeling good! But neither Joe nor I started this thing out doing 20 mile days like a lot of people do.
We saw a completely oblivious skunk, who I accidentally startled when I got close to film him. Oops.

We checked our milage when it got dark enough to put our headlamps on.
20.3.
We'd made it.
Two feet wide on a cliff above a river? Sounds good.
We laid down our mats and sleeping bags and didn't walk another foot.

Day 29 04/16 Pushin 20's

2012-05-16T00:18:00.001-07:00

Mileage: 19.6
Made Camp:281.6

I woke up at 5:45 am, I knew my Dad wasn't kidding when he said he wanted to be out the door at 6:30 on the dot. He was going to give me a ride back up to Big Bear where we would pick up Joe and Dan and hed drop us off at the trail.
My 12 year old sister who had school beat me to the shower so I snoozed it. Ten minutes later she was still in the shower so I decided to eat a little something. I had an apple and an orange. Then it was 6:12am and I was starting to get annoyed because all I wanted was two minutes of hot water before I left civilization again for a week.
I went up the stairs towel in hand, ready to say something when I heard my dad kick her out.
"Sage, get out of there now and let your brother take a shower!"
Thank God.
I'd almost given up. I was gonna stink anyway.
I took my two minutes and it was glorious. Ten minutes later I was out the door with my pack on.
My dads car was gone-
It was 6:28! I was two minutes early! I knew he had to go to work.. I'd heard him open the garage, but I thought he was just getting the car started, waiting.
I stood there for a moment. Maybe he had to get gas or something. I was about to call him when he pulled up.
With a fresh, tasty McGriddle.
I would've had granola bars.
Thanks Dad.
An hour later we had Joe and Dan in the car and we were on our way to the Cushenbury grade summit, where we had left the trail to hitch into Big Bear.
My dad dropped us off and we walked back into the woods.
Recently I'd felt like we could have been putting in more mileage each day, although I was glad to ease into the trip and we had been steadily increasing our average daily distance. I hadn't said anything to Joe though. He was a good partner, and his feet were healing up.
Not five minutes into the hike, Joe turned and says,
"So, i think I'm ready to start doing 20's."
I was immediately pumped and excited to tackle this next section to the Cajon Pass. I figured five or six days, and I'd be at home with the family for a little three day rest and visit. If we start to pull 20 mile days, well get there sooner and I might get a fourth day.
There was still a foot to two feet of snow left in a lot of places on the trail, but giving it a couple days to get sunny again made the snow really manageable and we barely spent any time postholing.
Dan, Joe and I hiked west all day along the back of the San Bernardinos until just before sundown when we came to a horse camp. It had a latrine WITH toilet paper, a metal fire ring, a stream and a picnic table!
And no horses.
We were gonna be pretty spoiled tonight.

04/14-15 Big Bear Break

2012-05-15T21:42:00.001-07:00

In the morning I looked out the frosted windows, and everything had disappeared under a thick blanket of white. Parked cars were barely discernible lumps under the snow. I was glad to be inside.
We had made it to Big Bear just in time. It dropped at least a solid foot of snow overnight at the hostel.
When we got there we thought we might be the only hikers there. . We didn't know what to expect.
Instead when we had first walked in, ice still melting from our jackets we were surprised to see practically every early season thru-hiker within two weeks of us. Which essentially was almost everyone this far in.
We met Sandy, whod done most of the trail before and was sectioning to Agua Dulce, Franz and Greg, two thru-hikers from the East Coast, a Guy named Jeff and a guy called Salty also thru hiking, and we saw Dan from Florida and Dave again, the fast guy wed met during the storm at safe camp.
Lots of names, right?
There were also three snowboarders living there- all together we looked like a mismatched myriad of gypsies. It was really cool to talk to everyone and compare stories, where everyone had been and what they hoped to do in the future. We were all from different walks of life, but on the same mission, sharing similar hardships. We stayed up all night talking. The snow was coming down hard, and no one was going anywhere.
Now it was morning and the world seemed to be in hibernation. Only Joe and I were up, and Dan was off snowboarding. He'd managed to meet someone with an extra pass and had been here for five days living the life.
We didn't wanna go out into the snow, but the rumors of huge pancakes and breakfast portions at the Grizzly Manor called out to us like a Siren's song. I could almost hear it in the wind..
"baaacon.."
We trudged out into the empty streets yet to be cleared of snow, and reluctantly postholed a half mile to breakfast.
With this snow, no one was getting back on the trail til Monday. We'd all been through it. I think this was our fourth or fifth storm?
I was planning on leaving the trail for four days in a week or so when I got to the Cajon Pass, mile 342. My family and girlfriend Sara live closest to there and we are all anxiously awaiting the visit.
With everyone holed up at the hostel for the weekend and Joe and I also having no plans to walk out into fourteen inches of fresh snow (8 mile days) I called my Dad up. My hometown Hesperia was only 35 mins away by car.
Later in the day when the roads got cleared he drove up to get me. I got to see my Mom and Dad, my little brother and sister Marsden (10), Sage (12), my little LITTLE sister Kenzie (3) and my grandma! They were all really happy about me showing up in town a week early, even if I could only stay for a little bit. So was I.
That night I got my jeep and drove 130 miles round trip down to Anaheim to suprise my girlfriend. I didn't tell her I was coming down. I just showed up outside. It was really special to see her, even if only for a couple hours. Huge morale boost.
It killed me to leave her and drive off again, but I would see her in a little over a week and I had that to look forward to.
That Sunday I got to spend with my Grandpa, just like any of our classic Sunday's I'd spent with him growing up. We went to our favorite diner for breakfast (of course I ordered my normal in town meal- two eggs, bacon, sausage, hashbrowns, biscuits and gravy mmmm) which hit the spot. Then we went down to Rancho Cucamonga to the Bass Pro Outdoors Shop, which is am attraction in itself and is very cool to just walk around.
More goodbyes to my Grandma and Grandpa, once again I hated to say bye but I'd be back soon, for one more (planned) visit.
I laid down Sun. night in my bag where I had set my mat on the carpet in my parents living room. The extra padding of the carpet was wonderful (my mom even offered a bed although I felt like I had plenty) but I couldn't fall asleep. I thought about seeing my girlfriend and my family and how much I had missed them. It's kind of funny- as far away as I am on the trail, this is the closest I've been to my parents in years.
I was ten percent done with the trip- and I'd found out the hardest thing about the journey was missing your loved ones.
I'm meeting a lot of people on this adventure; good ones and bad ones and characters alike-but there is something about the familiarity of having your friends and family around. Don't take them for granted- you might think you don't, but it's easy to. (they're your family, they're supposed to be there for you, right?) So try your hardest not to. Because they don't HAVE to be there for you. They might not always be.

Day 28 04/13 Into Big Bear

2012-05-10T10:18:00.001-07:00

The wind started rushing down the little canyon where we slept around 9:00 pm and didn't stop. I actually didn't sleep at all. I heard the giant trees creaking, swaying back and forth with the wind. I hoped none would come down in the middle of the night; I tried to pick a spot that was free of widowmakers- as free as possible. I wondered if Arrastre trail camp was better in the summer when the weather would be hot; or if it was always this windy and cold.
I tried everything, putting on more layers, even cracking open a hand-warmer someone gave me that I kept for a night like this. I put it in the bottom of my bag to try and warm my feet but the warmth was negligible compared to the wind. I just remember the sun coming up and being mad to see it.
It's not as fun to put decent miles in when you don't sleep.
I need a better sleeping bag, but at around 300 bucks for a decent down bag I figure the biggest change I could make to my sleep system that would give the most bang for the buck would be to get real long underwear, like some Patagonia Capeliene or some Smartwool. Everyone raves about how warm they are. I'll look into it when I get to the Cajon Pass where I can run to REI.
As I got out of my tent Joe was poking around camp looking in the bushes. Apparently he was missing pieces of his stove and a stuff sack that the wind had "stolen" in the night.
I got up quickly and found his stuff within two mins. I followed the direction of the wind and found both items on the edge of camp.
It's a game now, for me to find Joes lost stuff. I love it. I'm gonna put a list up soon of all the stuff he would of lost and the price had i not been there. Its literally been hundreds of dollars worth of gear now. That's our yin and yang.
He loses everything, and I find it. :)
We only had ten miles into Big Bear. We were out of the snow and the wind wasn't too bad, It couldn't be too hard of a day...
It got colder and windier after we left camp. I layered up and put in headphones for motivation. The wind got worse and worse until at some points it almost knocked me off my feet. Then it started snowing, but not too hard. I got a little bit of signal for the first time in days, my grandma had texted me warning me of two storms- the one we had holed up for and one we were walking right into.

It was a race to get to HWY 18 before the storm really started coming down. The ten miles felt a lot longer than they were with the wind pushing you off the trail and the snow beginning to blow sideways. Even when it wasn't snowing the ice would blow right off the trees like little bits of hail hitting you in the face.
We made it to the Cushenbury grade summit at HWY 18 were we would hitch into Big Bear just as it really got bad. As we walked up a forest ranger was there sitting in his truck. We thought we got lucky and wouldn't have to try and hitch. He backed his truck up to us as we came down off the trail to the road.
The winds were now 50+ at this saddle where the road was. It was the first time on the trip I could lean into the wind and it would hold me up.
He unrolled his window long enough to say "Big Bear's that way"- and took off.
Another guy let us crouch behind his truck so we could check our maps real quick in the wind- when Joe went back up to his window to say thank you he sped off.

We were not going to get a ride! Car after car passed us by as we stood there with our thumbs out, my clothes whipping like a flag in the wind. I thought out of all people, the forest ranger would understand our situation! Maybe it was policy, I don't know.
Finally two vehicles that had passed us by came back- two ladies going to a christian ladies retreat. They only had room for one of us in each vehicle, but they would get us into town.
Turns out the lady giving me a ride (Becky Barrett-Smith) was an author, had had written a book on coming to God and salvation. She said they never EVER pick up hitchhikers, but they didn't like the idea of us having to stand out there in the cold.
That amazed me. All of the people that passed us by, and these two ladies with cars packed FULL of food pulled over, discussed picking us up and busted a U on a high mountain road in a snowstorm. Just to do something nice.
There are actually good people still left in this world.
As we made it closer to town, the snow really started coming down hard. They got us right where we needed to be. We thanked them and walked into the safety of the hostel for the night and out of the storm.

That last picture down below, right in the middle you see a little orange and blue right where the shadow meets the light. That's me, holding up Joe's $200+ down jacket. He loses, I find. :)

Day 27 04/12 Safe Camp to Arrastre

2012-05-04T18:39:00.001-07:00

We slept in as late as we could (8:00am) and began to pack. My tent was soaked in condensation so I laid it out in anticipation of the sun breaking through the trees. When it did, it was joyous... It was truly a beautiful thing to see after such a drab and miserable day holed up in the tent.
I sat and ate happily and let the sun warm my bones. I could feel the heat warming me at my core and I wanted to soak up every last minute of it. I didn't know if the storm was over or if this was just a lull. I could still see clouds whisking by on the edge of the saddle where our camp was.
I hadn't had signal in days, at least since Idyllwild and it was really beginning to wear on me. Not talking to family or Sara for a few days wasn't bad, but going day after day with absolutely no communication sucked. I didn't even have any way to confirm they were getting the OK messages from my GPS transponder. I was really beginning to miss everybody.
We packed up and headed off and even further up into the mountains. We would peak out above 9000 ft today before descending again. The plan was to divide the day into four parts and take decent breaks in between, and end up at Arrastre Trail Camp, a horse camp 16.4 miles away. We liked the horse camps, because they meant some flat ground and usually, an outhouse.
We were learning. Never pass up a public toilet. :)
To our pure and utter joy, we passed an old forest service camp at Coon Creek that we didn't know about. It had a working commode..... With toilet paper!!!
We might get two toilets in one day. Heaven.
We passed through the frost covered trees from the previous day's storm. It would break free and float down on us in the wind like fake snow. We didn't see a single person all day, and got to Arrastre trail camp just before dark. It was down in a dark canyon surrounded by massive ancient trees. Unfortunately all of the good spots had giant widow makers (dead trees that could fall or lose huge branches in the wind that could kill you in the night). I picked the trees that looked least likely to fall in the night and set up my tent.
If it didn't fall for the last twenty years, it won't fall tonight, right?
Which chances do I take, and which do I avoid? It's always about balance of risk. :)
I was a little worried about the cold air settling in the night, we were low in a canyon and it was already cold enough. I didn't worry too much though. There was another fire ring, and the wind hadn't picked up. I set up my tent and built a fire just as the sun went down.

By the way, I was an idiot and skipped the "restroom" at Coon Creek. (I didn't have to go!)
There was none at Arrastre.
All of you at home, you're lucky.
I envy you.
You and your toilets. :)

Day 26 04/11 Zero at Safe Camp

2012-05-04T17:36:00.001-07:00

I was half asleep in my bag at six in the morning when the first rays of light should have been bursting through the trees. Instead I awoke to an odd sound, like sand being sprinkled on my tent.
I snapped awake.
It was snowing.
I immediately checked to make sure nothing was wet. Thank god it hadn't rained any in the night. We were above 7000, but when I'd gone to bed there were no clouds!
I practically jumped out of my sleeping bag and scrambled to pull the rainfly over my tent. The snow changed to little balls of ice that stung your skin in the wind. I ran over and shook Joe's tent to see what he wanted to do.
We agreed to go back to sleep and wait it out another hour or so. I was ok with that. It's one thing if you're hiking in a storm, you keep going til you find safe camp or water. We had both.
And it was COLD.
So cold in fact that when I woke up in another hour and a half my water bladder was frozen solid inside my tent. The wind was howling outside. I opened the tent and saw clouds moving through with no signs of slowing. We hadn't had signal in days and we had no idea if it would last a couple hrs, or a couple days. With no way to check the weather, we decided to keep an eye on it and see how it played out.
It went on all day.
I tried to sleep as much as I could, listened to music for a while, anything to distract myself from going nuts. Which I was, a little bit. I had no desire to take a zero day, and it killed me to be sitting in the tent during daylight when I wanted to be moving. However the ten miles ahead of us would bring us only higher than we were, up to 9000+. The snow wasn't bad, but with the wind and it being below freezing, we felt it would be a stupid decision to march off into the storm. I really wished I had signal, just to hear a familiar voice.
Halfway through the day I was almost out of water and going stir crazy so I got out of my tent and woke Joe up to get water from the dripping spring behind camp.
It ended up being almost completely frozen with just a little flow left. I filled up with ice cold mountain spring water and we got back in the tents ASAP. It was almost too cold to drink so I made soup to hydrate and went back to sleep.
Riding out that storm really wasn't fun. I kept having bad dreams about missing out on things at home and I kept wondering what everyone was up to while I laid there isolated in my tent.
Eventually it died down, right about six p.m. Too late to start hiking for the day, but just enough light left to get out and stretch and take some pictures. A hiker named Dave came into our camp, cold and exhausted from the climb up Mission Creek. He was happy to see other people, and so were we after a day in the tent with no stimulation.
We took advantage of the break in the weather and dried our rainflys. Joe looked like a monster under his trying to untangle so I snapped a photo before he found his way out. We made fire in a fire ring there and stayed out long after dark just to talk and be out of the tents. That was a real morale boost, to have that heat.
I wondered about how for thousands of years my ancestors before me sat in front of a fire for warmth, comfort and food. Staring into the fire, telling our stories and letting it warm our bones...there was almost a primal feeling about it.

Day 25 04/10 Going Back Up

2012-05-04T10:23:00.001-07:00

Watching the sunset light up the clouds over San Jacinto last night from the San Bernardino foothills was something incredible. We cowboy camped off the trail in the bottom of a sandy wash, the only flat spot we could find.
As I laid there looking at the stars and the clouds like paint swatches over the nighttime sky I thought of how much things have changed for me.
I never feared bugs, just didn't like them. Now they didn't bother me at all. I had ants and a dragonfly on me during the night and I just flicked them off and went back to sleep.
I no longer felt I needed the security of my tent walls. It's now more a pain to set it up and take it down than to just camp without it if the weather's good.
There's nothing like sleeping under the stars.
Its almost as good as hearing your friend get loved on by a deer.
We climbed through a long HOT canyon with a creek meandering through it as we began the ascent that would eventually lead back into the clouds. We crossed the creek at least ten times following it upstream as the desert scrub turned back into cedar and pine. We were probably the only two people for miles around.
We arrived at a camp with a spring near the back ( BONUS!!) as the sun went down and we decided to set up camp. It was safe and for once there was no shortage of flat spots.
We were so tired we went to bed without getting water. We each had enough.
We'd get in the morning.

Day 24 04/09 Looking in the Mirror

2012-04-26T00:27:00.001-07:00

In the morning we left Ziggy and the Bear's, our stomachs full and morale high. Apparently we'd been two of only a handful of hikers that crossed Fuller Ridge this early in the season.
We entered section "c," from the I-10 to the cajon pass, about 133 miles. It was hot and very clear that we were in the desert once again as the stretches between water became further and further.
We passed through the Mesa Wind Farm, in awe of the turbines that towered above us like sentinels and how they'd looked so tiny from eight thousand feet above. The water was irradiated there (Kind of scary) so we had to pack out as much as possible from the Bear's.
It was all uphill from the windfarm into the San Bernardino's. Eventually we came to the whitewater preserve, a really nice picnic area near a creek where families and day hikers come to splash and play. We took a siesta to avoid the midday heat and met this really cool family. The dad and mom were involved with scouting and were really nice but their son blew me away. I found myself wanting to talk to him even more than his parents. He reminded me so much of myself as a kid.
At first he was quiet, then he asked Joe if he was a diabetic. Joe was a little caught off guard, then the kid pointed out Joe's wireless blood sugar monitor and said he had one too, he was also type 1.
He then commented on the brand of my knife that I had- this kid clearly noticed details.
The more I talked to the kid the more intelligence he displayed. He was wise beyond his years and was a thinker. He loved the outdoors-hiking, camping, making a fire from scratch, etc. He took joy from that, which was refreshing compared to so many of the kids today that are glued to a TV screen. What impressed me the most though was to see that he didn't feel sorry for himself at all for being so young and being a diabetic. Joe talked to him about that, and left the kid with the message that it was part of what he was, not WHO he was-I saw it click in his head that if Joe was type 1 and could hike 2600 miles, nothing would ever hold him back. His mom was practically glowing the whole conversation.
We left the preserve motivated and inspired by this kid. I hope he goes places. I'm sure he will.
We made it out of whitewater canyon, only to be greeted with an almost fifteen mile uphill climb in the heat. This part was supposed to be mentally hard and exhausting. Joe read from our map notes.
"Long, hard, hot uphill slog. Bring your big boy pants."
I turned to him.
"I only got the one pair."

We pushed on into the evening and made it through the hottest part of the climb into the San Gorgonio Wilderness. With the sun going down and no obvious good camp for miles, we set up in the bottom a sandy wash off the trail just pass the San Andreas fault. It was the only flat spot around.
The sun set behind San Jacinto, and lit up all the clouds in the sky. Looking at that mountain I couldn't believe we'd come that far on foot. It was hard to comprehend.

Only 2400 miles to go. :)

Day 23 04/08 Easter Sunday

2012-04-25T22:05:00.001-07:00

We wanted to get started at first light today so as soon as I heard that "ZIIIIP" of Joes sleeping bag I snapped awake and started packing. My brain, still half asleep and lazy tempted me to lay back down and return to the good dreams I was having but I fought the temptation and got everything packed and good to go. Joe asks if I heard him scream last night. I thought I'd heard something, but wasn't sure if i'd been dreaming. I asked him what happened.
"I woke up in the middle of the night to something huge licking my face! I screamed and tried to swat it away but I was trapped in my sleeping bag.
Me, shocked: "What did you do?"
" Nothing. It ran off."
Joe had cowboy camped. (no tent) My first thought was a coyote. However his food bag was untouched.
"This was no little tongue- it licked me from forehead to chin in one swipe. Whatever it was, it was large enough to loom above me. It had a BIG tongue."
That got me really interested. What would come up and leave his food alone, but lick him?
I looked around camp for prints. Definitely no black bear, no coyote, no lion. And there it was. Coming into our camp off the trail and up to his bag, then back out were deer tracks.
What cracked me up is I almost cowboy camped but didn't at the last second. I thought we'd get a lot of bugs, being close to the bushes.
No bugs.
Just a lonely deer, getting fresh.
I bet Joe felt vulnerable trapped in his bag not able to fight off all that lovin'.
It probably just wanted the salt.
We spent the day descending from San Jacinto, towering above us in all it's grandeur the entire way. We were at 9000 ft the night before, and at the end of the day we'd be at 1000.
The trail wound down the desert side of the mountain, which was completely different from the other snowy and forested flank. The terrain went from icy snow and pine needles back to rocky and uneven ground that just LOVES to give you plenty of opportunity to twist your ankles. However I was happy to be heading downhill, after practically a week of going up. I had been hesitant about buying the trekking poles back in Idyllwild, but now they never left my hands. My knees were very grateful. Getting down to the desert floor meant 22 miles of pounding steps.
In places the trail was very faint and overgrown. We hit mile 200 and pushed our way through the brush which was often taller than me. (that's not saying much.) Which reminds me- how many types of thornbushes does the world need?
I don't want the answer.
For the first time in a week it was hot, hot, HOT! I'd forgotten what heat felt like being up at elevation for so long. I was glad I'd began the trip early, and didn't wait til it was over a hundred in the Anza Borrego desert like everyone leaving at the normal time will probably experience. I guess it's a trade off though. They won't have to deal with any snow.
Waiting at the bottom for us where the water got piped out from the mountains was a chatty security guard for the Desert Valley Water Authority (I think). He showed us satellite photos of where we were going and an awesome picture of a WAIST HIGH mountain lion that was captured by a nearby game camera.
When I got phone signal I found out it was Easter.
Who would have known? I forget what day it is all the time out here.
My parents who live an hour away surprised us and made the trip down to Cabazon to intercept us when we hit the I-10, the end of section B of the PCT. We got to the freeway and climbed up the side where they were waiting to take us to Sizzler.
Best Easter EVER. I ate like it was my last meal. It was nice to see my parents for the first time since the border. My mom kept staring at me while I ate like she was horrified. Either that or in awe. I didn't stop shoveling in the food to find out.
After clearing out the buffet for our nice Easter lunch my parents dropped us like rocks back into the desert.
I was a little sad to see them go.
They took my leftovers.
We made our way a couple more miles to Whitewater, where the trail angels Ziggy and the Bear live. They let PCT hikers cowboy camp in their backyard, and provide an oasis in the desert before you enter the San Bernardino's to make the long hot climb up to Big Bear.
I can't tell you enough how great they were. We met Bear on the trail near his house.
"NO HIKERS ON THE TRAIL!" he shouted.
Confused, Joe and I looked at each other and back to this weathered but tough old man.
"I SAID NO HIKERS ON THE TRAIL!!"
Just when I'm wondering how to explain to this guy that this is the PCT and there are ONLY hikers on this trail, he smiled and said, "I'm just messin' with ya. I'm the Bear. You must be looking for our house."
He took us home and fed us and he and his wife Ziggy treated us like kings. They poured us Epsom salt baths for our feet (TWICE!!) and even had a great breakfast for us in the morning! We offered to do work for them, but they wouldn't even let us dump the water! So we left a donation in a jar on their kitchen counter.
Staying at Ziggy and the Bear's made a great end to a great Easter. We stayed up late talking about anything and everything with Bear and their good friend Ron.
As I fall asleep that night underneath the stars ( no danger of romantic animals this time, they had this nifty thing called a fence) I couldn't help but feeling like I was at home visiting my grandparents. After all, they treated us like family.
I was sad to go. Apparently we'd missed the installation of a porta-poddy. By one day.
My bowels just can't catch a break.