Those Last Five Pounds

In reviewing my Pacific Crest Trail Gear and reading gear recommendations for the CDT, I've started to think more about weight. I'm certainly not an ultra-lighter, nor am I really a light-weight backpacker. I'm generally content to carry whatever fits in my pack.

I started the Appalachian Trail with about fifty pounds on my back. I had heard the adage that "ounces equal pounds equals pain", but I didn't really listen. The pack I started with was donated by a friend. It alone weighed seven pounds. Like many first-time thru-hikers, I had way too much stuff.

I was reminded of my AT predicament last Spring during a warm-up hike that Reason and I took before heading to California to start the PCT. We started at Springer Mountain, the AT's southern terminus, and headed north for a few days. The hikers we met along the way had a long trek in front of them. It is over 2,000 miles to Mt. Katahdin in Maine, a daunting figure when suddenly you are at Springer, having most likely given up your job, possibly your abode, and temporarily your relationships.

One of the hikers we met during that warm-up hike was about the best-natured person I've ever met. He was young and strong, but suffering under the weight of an enormous pack. He'd read all of the books and advice about backpacking, but still had too much stuff. This is not unusual for first-time through hikers. Much advice about backpacking and safety recommends taking along all sorts of emergency supplies. Of course a hiker's first priority is to keep himself safe and healthy, but more recent thought suggests carrying less stuff and making better decisions about being in the elements. You can carry fewer clothes, for example, as long as you recognize that if you are too cold to hike you need to get to a lower elevation and get in your sleeping bag. You don't have to carry ten days of food if you find out where to resupply in the middle of the hike.

It goes without saying that different hikes require different gear and weather considerations, but the point remains that a hiker does not need the kitchen sink. The Good-Natured Hiker we met had all the gear to keep him safe, but it was making him miserable. He didn't need a heavy rope, for example. Nor did he need a hatchet or heavy blue tarp. He certainly didn't need the multi-dispenser spice kit. In good humor, this hiker pulled out two large summer sausages at a shelter one evening and offered it all around. "I'm not carrying these any farther, so please help yourselves," he smiled.

This Good-Natured Hiker is to be commended for his efforts at being prepared. I have heard it said, though, that a hiker tends to carry his fears with him. A hiker afraid of being hungry will carry too much food. A hiker afraid of running out of water will carry too much water. Would it be awful to run out of food and water? Of course! Are you going to die if you run short? Unlikely. That burger and coke in town will simply taste a lot better.

For my own part, I was afraid of being cold. Fortunately, at the 30 mile mark on the AT there is a conveniently located outfitter called Mountain Crossings at Neels Gap. I'm not sure whether it is more convenient for the hiker toiling under his heavy backpack or for the owners who practically operate a mint. Either way, Mountain Crossings is an amazing resource. I can't think of an outfitter that is better suited to long-distance hikers. Like many a thru-hiker, I made an appointment at the shop for a "shake-down". The friendly folks at Mountain Crossings walked through every piece of my gear with me until I had identified what I could send home, what I could replace with lighter equipment, and what I couldn't do without. In my case, I had way too many layers of warm clothing, most of which I sent home.

A gear shake-down is one of the best preparation exercises a hiker can do. It helps, too, to start by keep a spreadsheet listing the weight of each and every item of gear and clothing with a running total of the overall weight before food and water is added to the pack. This is what is known as base weight. Some hikers take this to the extreme. Known as gram-weenies, they are also the ones who are cold at night but who often have very innovative home-made gear that they weigh to the gram. You'll know you are in the company of thru-hikers if the folks around you are constantly bragging about their base weight.

Though the base weight lends an additional metric of competition to the sport of long-distance hiking, being conscious of base weight does make for a more comfortable hike. The Good-Natured Hiker with the many summer sausages wasn't going to go hungry, but he may never have had the chance to rescue himself or anyone else with his heavy rope because it would have been quite difficult to carry that rope and the tens of pounds of other equipment all the way to Maine.

When Reason and I turned South to head back to our car, we again met this Good-Natured Hiker. He had come through Neels Gap a transformed man. His already good-natured smile now spread from ear to ear, for his pack was a fraction of its original size! An already strong hiker, he was now bounding up and down the steep grades of North Georgia. It was a joy to see, and I have no doubt that he summited Mt. Katahdin in good speed.

I myself am not a gram-weenie. I do now keep a spreadsheet, but some things I never get around to weighing. I've been known to carry a book. I've been known to carry an extra liter of water in the desert. Reason makes fun of me for this, but he has run out of water more than once and then buttered me up while eyeing my extra liter. Reason is in fact making fun of how much I carry as I write these very words!

I do carry more than Reason. I hike with a Granite Gear Nimbus Ozone backpack. It holds a full ten pounds more than Reason's much smaller looking Vapor Trail pack. Folks we've passed on the trail have done a double take at this sight. Either they think I'm stronger or that I'm a beast of burden. Truth be known, when Reason and I were hiking together on the AT, I did carry the entire two-person tent when his knees were hurting. It was actually the tent I started with independently of Reason, but we did share it. Reason's family never lets up on the notion that "I carried his gear for him".

Reason would say that he would never choose such a heavy tent to begin with. It didn't hurt my cause, though to invite Reason to share my tent with me on a particularly rainy night in North Carolina. His ultra-light sil-nylon tarp looked to be about the size of a washcloth, and I said so. I didn't think it would keep him dry, and he obliged!

We hiked with a palatial two-person free-standing tent for much of the PCT. Though I loved sleeping under the stars, the tent was warm in the High Sierra and the bug netting was indispensable in much of Northern California and most of Oregon. The tent offered plenty of room for the two of us and our packs and had enough head room so that we could both sit up inside.

Reason was embarrassed by this tent. He didn't want to be seen in it. "Too heavy," he would complain. "No serious ultra-lighter would ever be caught with it." Reason loves the idea of shedding weight. He once took to eating 2,000 calories a day for months to reduce his very body weight in preparation for a hike on the Long Trail. The less body weight he has, the less overall weight he has to carry around on a hike, was his reasoning. True, but I got some looks from his sister after seeing his somewhat emaciated state that suggested that maybe I wasn't taking very good care of my husband. On the PCT, Reason also took to removing his hip belt from his pack. Serious gram-weenies can't be bothered to carry even the weight of the hip belt itself, not to mention that their base weight doesn't merit one.

Well, I like to think I'm conscious of my pack weight, but the truth is I'm not. I carry all kinds of things. I started the PCT with three half-used mini tubes of toothpaste. I just didn't see the need to have to buy more until I used those up. (Reason doesn't know this and will laugh at me now!) I tell myself that the weight of little things like that doesn't matter, but that is the same lie I tell myself every time I eat a cookie! In truth, it all adds up.

I'm still afraid of the cold. I just purchased a zero degree down sleeping bag for the CDT. It weighs 42 ounces - 13 ounces more than my 15 degree bag. That's the better part of a pound! My plan is to carry fewer clothes this time around in exchange for a warmer sleeping bag.

I guess I'd better get back to my spreadsheet and figure that out!

Advice

A prospective thru-hiker contacted me to ask for some advice about the Appalachian Trail. Here is how I responded.

Go lightweight - it will hurt less and you just don't need much. Resupply in town instead of having to get to the PO for packages. Have fun in town, but don't stay too long. Party with other hikers, but don't spend too much money on beer so you have enough money to get to Maine. Dry out your feet in the sun a few times a day, or every time you rest. Eat a salad every time you get to town- you'll feel better. Don't rush. The hike will be over before you know it and then you'll have to get a job again. Do some 20 plus mile days so you feel the burn, but take your time on most days. Some hikers are gonna drive you crazy, but they are all part of this awesome hiker fraternity and they all have an interesting story. Take lots of pictures, especially of the hikers. Make sure you get contact info for the people you meet - when the hike is over you can go sleep on their couches and talk gear and trail all night long. Non-hikers are excited about your trip, but don't really care about gear and can't necessarily appreciate the great stories you'll have about hiking in the rain for a week. Mind your manners in trail towns. You are stinky and homeless and you depend on the town for its services. It only takes one badly behaved hiker to make all hikers unwelcome in a little trail town. Offer a donation to trail angels and gas money to people who give you rides. Take the time to talk to the people you meet, even if you've answered the question about how many pairs of shoes you've worn out a million times. Most people don't have the moxy to hike 2000 miles and they are truly excited about what you are doing. Give them that excitement, but be humble. Chances are they have the moxy to do something you would never consider, so listen to their stories. Don't take a cell phone. You won't need it and it is nice to get away from everyone else in your life for a while. And no one wants to hear anyone else yakking on a phone in the middle of the woods. Keep a journal, even if you are tired. You don't have to write a novel, just jot down a few phrases so you can remember the little or big things you see each day. You'll be glad you did when you are back at work and have responsibilities that keep you from getting out in the woods.

Top advice: go slow at first. Georgia will put you in your place with its steep and frequent elevation changes. Let your body break in with eight and ten mile days, then move on to twelve and fifteen. Your knees and ligaments will thank you. Everyone leaving Springer will feel antsy and competitive. Ignore them. The only thing getting you to Katahdin is your mind. Your primary competition is yourself.

Have fun!

To Begin...

How did it come to this, that I would sign up for yet another year of lost income and continuing transience in order to indulge myself in yet another two thousand plus-mile hike?

I guess it all started when I was a little girl. My family took me to the Blue Ridge Mountains of North Carolina when I was growing up. We spent long weekends day-hiking with little packs full of bread, extra-sharp cheddar cheese, and of course good chocolate. When I was four years old, my father carried me part of the way up to Mount LeConte in the Smoky Mountains to spend the weekend in rustic cabins. I actually hiked the rest! I loved it, even while my teenage sister wondered what all the fuss was about.

At some point in Western North Carolina's mountains, my family were passed by what I would call "blurs" today. These young folks were moving fast, fast enough to make just the blurry impression of being hikers. They were lean and muscular - and smelly!

Delighted, my father explained to me that these folks were hiking the Appalachian Trail all the way from Georgia to Maine. I don't think I had any concept of the mileage between those two points at the time, but I knew right away that I wanted to hike to Maine, too.

I filed that encounter away for some time, going about the business of school and growing up, but the memory resurfaced at an opportune time. I was traveling in Southeast Asia and Australia when it happened. I was in a go-go bar in Bangkok's Patpong district on September 11, 2001. My friend and I left the bar and resurfaced on the street level to a television showing a building blowing up in what looked to be a Bruce Willis movie. But of course that wasn't the case.

Now, we were perfectly safe in Bangkok. My friend and I soon learned to pretend to be Canadian in order to avoid the overly solicitous condolences we received as Americans from the friendly Thai people. But our friends and family at home were concerned that we make it home safely. Not being one to capitulate to patriotic sympathies, nor, really, to do anything someone else wants me to, I continued my travels as planned for another two months. The last thing I wanted was to return to the safety of the fold.

Actually, I had grand plans to prolong my travels. Having lived in Los Angeles for four years, I found myself ready for new adventures. Los Angeles expanded my horizons beyond what I could have imagined when I moved there at the age of 22, but I no longer needed my Thomas Guide map to get around the city. I wanted more. I have an inborn wanderlust that nags me, to the point that all I could talk about as a very small child was my desire to get to Italy as soon as possible.

For the next two months I kept a list of even the most ridiculous ideas that popped into my mind. And I remembered those blurs on the Appalachian Trail.

A little over a year later, I was making my way to Mt. Katahdin at the end of the Appalachian Trail in Maine. Along the way, I met people who had done all kinds of things - most of which did not involve wearing a suit and going to an office. Some of those people let me in on the other two major long distance trails: the Pacific Crest Trail and the Continental Divide Trail. I began the AT with the idea that I would have no interest in another such attempt. I completed the AT wondering how soon I could get back to the cool, dark quiet nights, the physicality of hiking all day long, the views, the wildlife, the spring water, and of course the hikers.

Now that I've caught the hiking bug, I've never looked back. I'm done with dull, pursed, bricked-in Boston. Let me out into the world!

Pacific Crest Trail Gear List 2008

Backpack
Granite Gear Nimbus Ozone backpack, 48 oz
I used an earlier generation of this pack on the AT and loved it! I'm weight-conscious but not really an ultra-lighter, so this capacious pack was perfect for my extra warm layers, my book, and half of the three-season tent I carried. My biggest complaint is that the Bear Vault BV 500 canister does not fit sideways inside this pack. Granite Gear really stands by their products and has excellent customer service. The pack can be customized based on torso length, hip belt girth, and shoulder strap length and width. The narrow women's shoulder straps keep their hands to themselves - you ladies will know what I mean.

Equinox pack cover 3.4 oz
Nice sil-ny fabric, not-so-great design. I'm not sure there is a perfect pack cover, but I keep using this one anyway. When it rains, it pours, so my first line of defense is a trash compactor bag inside my pack. Perhaps this pack cover just isn't a good fit with my pack, because the cover seems to funnel water towards the back pad of the pack. The cover also tends to collect water at the bottom and has no outlet, meaning that I have to reach back and try to let the water pour out of the bottom of the cover before I take my backpack off and set it down in its very own puddle of water.

Clothing
Sunday Afternoons Adventure Hat 2.7 oz
Quite possibly the world's dorkiest hat, but it provides excellent sun protection. I like the ventilation on the sides, the extra wide brim, and the long legionnaire's drape for neck protection. The adjustable chin strap is a necessity in the high desert winds, though I often felt like I was being strangled. We named ours BaDuSH, for Big Dorky Sun Hat. Can be washed, though I would avoid the dryer.


Rail Riders Women's Eco Mesh sun shirt 6oz
Again, not the most stylish item of clothing I've donned, but excellent for sun protection. The mesh fabric under the arms and along the sides provided great ventilation. I recommend a beige or dark color for the reason that the desert is dusty and clothing quickly becomes dingy. Dries quickly.

Ice Breaker 190 Superfine v-neck short-sleeved shirt
I was so disgusted with my dirty self in Ashland that I threw out my clothes and bought new ones. I found this great wool shirt, which did prove to be both cool and warm. It is not especially quick-drying, and does have a faint dog smell when wet, but was imminently more stylish than my Rail Riders shirt. I felt pretty again. The short sleeves were probably a bad idea. The sun does not stop shining in Oregon and Washington.

Mountain Hardwear skirt
I started in some old Columbia zip-off pants. These were great for sun protection, but there was no need for the zippers. I switched to the REI Sahara zip-offs after the old pants became too baggy, but these also had too many useless zippers. Their seams quickly split, which seemed common to others also wearing the same pants. Many folks had the Rail Riders Eco Mesh pants, which only come in men's sizes, but look comfortable with good ventilation. I think Mountain Hardwear may have discontinued the skirt, but I thought it was very comfortable. I might prefer the Mountain Hardwear Kilt, which can be clipped into "shorts" for modesty and has more room for climbing over blowdowns, etc. Another downside of the skirt is the lack of sun protection for the lower legs.

Patagonia thermals
Who can keep up with Patagonia's shifting base-layer names and weights. They seem to change from season to season. At any rate, I had a mid-weight top and bottom, and a Capilene 3 top and bottom. Yeah, I get cold. I wore all layers at night for most of the trail.

Marmot Precip pants and jacket 8 and 12 oz
I'm not sure these actually keep you dry, but they do keep you warm in the rain. After being rained on for most days of April, May and June, I had no intention of being without these in the desert. That was ridiculous, of course, but I did wear the jacket as a windbreaker. I would rather have had the Marmot wind shirt/jacket. These are handier in Oregon and Washington, but they made good warm layers on colder nights elsewhere. I've been using the same rain pants I bought for the AT. I'm sure their DWR has long since worn out, but I'm sure the layer was thin to begin with. Like I said, I'm more interested in staying warm in the rain.

Montbell Thermawrap jacket 7.6 oz
Amazingly light! I admittedly enjoyed the trendiness of this new acquisition, but I had mixed feelings about it. I never wanted to hike in it, because I'm a sweaty girl even when I'm cold. I'm not sure yet how to wash the thing. So far, I have soaked it in a bathtub of luke warm water and then air-dried it. It can't be twisted or wrung-out or it will be damaged, so I don't know what to do. It is moderately warm, but I would have preferred the Marmot wind shell as I wouldn't have worried about getting it wet. I never hiked in mine, but I put it on as soon as I made camp.

Isis Daisy bra
This is the piece of clothing I was most anxious about. No matter what Patagonia says about their bras, they DO NOT dry quickly. I made that mistake on the AT where wet-bra was a chronic condition. While the dry western weather was certainly a contributing factor, the thin fabric of this whisper-weight bra kept my girls dry and happy. Not for the well-endowed.

Undies
8 pairs of black, synthetic undies.

Smart Wool beanie
Not the warmest hat in the world, but not the heaviest, either.

EMS balaclava
Made from a lightweight Capilene type material. Great for the really cold nights.

EMS fleece gloves

Footwear
Montrail Hardrock trail runners
I started the PCT in Merrill Moab Ventilators. Let me just say that I felt every grain of sand under my feet. I will give them credit for breathability and decent footbox width, however. As soon as I could, I chose the Montrail Hardrock for its thick orthopaedic-looking sole. These shoes are quite narrow and tend to run small, so I wore a half size larger than my normal shoes. I replaced the insoles with green Superfeet for the arch support. I used one pair of Superfeet for the entire trail as the arch support doesn't really break down. I used three pairs of Hardrocks. I think they will go for 700 miles or more, though the pair I used in the Sierra were really toxic after being wet so frequently.

Socks
Socks just seem to break down quickly due to all of the sand and dust. I always wore gaiters, but my feet were always black with dirt at the end of the day. I used some light weight WigWams and later on some Darn Toughs, which I don't think were all that tough. My advice regarding socks is to change them frequently, especially in the desert. I'm not kidding when I recommend changing your socks every hour in the desert. Just hang the wet ones on the back of your pack and they'll be dry in an hour. It makes all the difference in blister prevention. Also, take off your socks and shoes and let your feet dry every time you break.

Montbell Stretch Gaiters 1.5 oz
I love gaiters as my gait tends to flick dirt into my shoes. I started with Outdoor Research low gaiters. The snaps on these fit so tightly that they often stick and pull out of the fabric when you try to remove the gaiters. After 200 miles, I was down to only one functioning snap. I lost one in a stream crossing and couldn't have been happier. In Mammoth Lakes, I found these Montbell gaiters that worked very well until the last few hundred miles. They come with nifty shock cord instep strings that don't last a minute. I replaced them with old shoe laces which were easy to come by in every hiker box. After a while, the nifty Japanese-designed "grommets" through which the instep strings are threaded began to wear out. Bottom line, you'll have to make do with them at some point, but they are great for dirt, dust and light snow. Just remember to put them on before you put on your shoes! Many folks had DirtyGirl gaiters. These are colorful and seem ideal for the dusty West. They are made by a totally cool trail-running lady.

Shelter
Gossamer Gear SpinnTwinn tarp 8oz
This tarp is the lightest shelter I have ever carried. I really loved it - during the day! Night was a different story. I was surprised to learn how incredibly windy it is in the desert, in the west, even. There is a reason that the wind features so prominently in Walkin' Jim's PCT song! This tarp was unnecessary and completely useless in the windy desert. But great to carry! We set it up with two trekking poles. I'd like to try it out again in different conditions. Sleep under the stars as much as you can!

REI Quarter Dome T2 tent about 64 oz
Though it embarrassed my husband tremendously to be seen in this heavy REI tent, I thought it was a palace. It is freestanding, which makes for quick set-up, and the tent body is nothing but net with a bathtub floor. Many nights we slept in just the bug netting, often cooking with our hands through the zippers of the doors to get away from the skeeters. The fly kept us dry the few times it rained or snowed and kept us warm in the High Sierra and in Washington. The plentiful headroom make it comfortable for sitting up (and eating), and the length allows not-too-tall people to keep their stuff at their feet. Pretty comfy for two, especially when you share the weight during the day.

Gossamer Gear Spinnsheet ground cloth 4.2 oz
Somewhat delicate. It would be a good idea to remove sharp debris from your camping spot before setting this cloth down. Very light.

Sleeping
Marmot Helium 15 women's down sleeping bag 29 oz
Like a non-stop hug all night long! I love this bag! I used it every single night on the PCT. The provided stuff sack is way too small and will probably contribute to loss of loft if used. I picked up a Granite Gear waterproof stuff sack that was a little bigger than I needed instead. I'm a cold sleeper, but this bag only let me down one night when it was probably 15 degrees outside and I was sleeping under the stars.

Blue closed-cell foam pad
Just a cheap one. Probably on the heavy side, and I kept it full-length. It kept me warm and dry.

Cooking
Etowah Outfitters alcohol stove
A fantastic alcohol stove. Reason rejected the provided cross-bar pot stand in favor of a lighter mesh/carpenter's cloth stand that fits inside our pot. Though Reason must have made dozens of alcohol stoves in preparation for this trip, we finally decided on this one. We used this on the AT as well. Fuel: denatured alcohol or yellow Heet bottle.

MSR titanium Teapot 4oz
A fantastic little pot! It holds about .8 liters and is just enough to cook one Lipton side, a box of Near East couscous, or a package of ramen. The alcohol stove handily fits inside the pot. We were told that titanium has a coating that can be scratched and ingested, so we padded the pot and stove with a bandanna.

Lexan spoon .5 oz
Mine has almost 5,000 miles on it!

Water and Treatment
Platypus bladders and hose
For the desert, I had a capacity of nine liters. You probably just need seven, but you never know. The Platypus bladders will wear through at the neck over time, but it takes a while. Another good reason to have a trash compactor back pack liner. I thought I would replace my bladders at some point on the PCT, but then just decided to keep track of where the leaks were and turn them to the other side. I always keep the bladders at the top of my pack.

Nalgene wide-mouth 96 oz canteen 2.25 oz
I picked this up because of the wide mouth. The extra capacity was great in the desert, but since it didn't fit my Platypus "system", I sent it home from Central Cali. The wide mouth turned out not to be necessary. I used the cooking pot to scoop water instead. Many folks experienced leaks from these, so you must treat them with care.

Polar Pure iodine 3oz
I wasn't sure what to expect as far as water goes in the west. I had the impression that we would see a lot of cows. I also thought that getting to towns and resupplying was going to be difficult. It wasn't. At any rate, I decided to go with Polar Pure for several reasons. The first is economy. One bottle will last the entire hike. The second is that I wanted to have a renewable treatment in the event that we couldn't find Aqua Mira, etc. The third is that I was thinking of getting pregnant and decided that iodine might be better for my body than chlorine dioxide or bleach. This is pure conjecture on my part - I don't know which is worse. The fourth is that I didn't want to carry a filter. I started off treating all water and occasionally pre-filtering with a bandanna. Reason started with Aqua Mira, but only treated some of his water. Just after leaving Agua Dulce, Reason came down with something that may or may not have been giardia. After that point, he stopped treating water completely. I continued treating my water with iodine. However, iodine does accumulate in the body and can cause problems. For this reason, I often allowed untreated water to warm up before treating it as this meant I could add less iodine. I swiped chlorine dioxide tablets from hiker boxes whenever I could to change things up, and left towns with plenty of tap water. I didn't always treat water in the High Sierra, and I didn't always treat snow melt. The jury seems to be out on snow melt. I liked the Polar Pure. It is cheap, I don't mind the very mild taste, and I knew I always had a way to treat my water. By the way, you cannot ship liquid Aqua Mira to California. I don't think they even sell it in CA.

Other
Leki ultralight titanium trekking poles from 2002
These poles have almost 5,000 miles on them and they're still going. They are pretty light, but the shocks/springs are wimpy. I like the feel of the Super Makalus better. Occasionally I get "short pole" when I bear down on a pole too hard going up or down a steep section and the pole gently collapses, but that may be because the locks unwind with use. I like trekking poles for the rhythm they provide, and for the buff arms that result, but I'm not sure they are necessary on the PCT. The PCT is so gentle, that towards the end of the trail it became a chore to use them. They were great in the snow in the Sierra, though.

Bear Vault BV500 large bear canister 41 oz
This bear canister was approved for use in Yosemite in 2008. I could barely get the thing open, until I learned to quickly spin the lid. While camping in Evolution valley, a bear came along and sniffed our group's canisters but didn't touch them. Cons: the thing is heav-vy, and it only fits upright in the Granite Gear Ozone and Vapor Trail packs. You also need to think about the kinds of foods that fit best in a canister, ie not potato chips.

CAMP Corsa ice ax 60 cm 8oz
Made of aluminum. Not the most aggressive piece of equipment, but it may be perfect for a PCT hike. I hardly used mine in the High Sierra, but it was a low snow year. Where it did actually come in handy was on the Tahquitz range above Idyllwild in SoCal. I hacked out steps in the icy snow. Could I have arrested on the icy snow? Not sure. I would like to have a leash, though. The ax became slippery when wet and I could easily have dropped it. Why did I have an ice ax in SoCal? Well, we started April 1 and thought we might encounter snow in the high elevations around San Jacinto. We were right. If only we'd kept the crampons, too.

CAMP Punte Light 6 crampons
Made of aluminum, so the points can't be sharpened, but very light. Perfect for trail runners, although they won't fit over very wide shoes. I had never used crampons before and I loved them. I used them on the way up Baden Powell, and again over Forester Pass and a few other High Sierra passes. I probably didn't need them, but they gave me peace of mind. The straps are confusing and only come with a tiny diagram. Practice once or twice. The ULA crampons weren't available in 2008 for some reason.

Reason
Amazing husband/hiking partner. My favorite piece of gear. Bonus: he carries his own weight!


Check out my AT and CDT gear lists, too.

PCT FINALE

Columbia, SC

Dear all-

Here it is -- the long awaited conclusion. Really, it would be much less dramatic without all of the suspense!

Reason and I completed the Pacific Crest Trail on September 17th. The Canadian border was a long way from Mexico, and a far cry from that ugly barbed wire fence, the armed helicopters, and the attendant politics. We just walked right in to Canada, crossing a six foot wide mowed line that spans in either direction through the trees and over the peaks. We carried mini bottles of champagne to celebrate. As it was a sunny afternoon and we'd already hiked 14 miles, the bubbly went straight to our heads. What more can you ask of four ounces?

Despite the earlier inclement weather, Washington failed to intimidate us and soon dried and reddened into a beautiful Indian Summer. Actually, Reason simply ordered up the nice weather from Buddha, who in all his benevolence, or perhaps in reward, provided. This confirmed for me my long-standing suspicion that Reason has the power to affect the weather.

Let me back up and provide a little context. It rained most days of April, May and June when we hiked the Appalachian Trail in 2003. When we meet other hikers and make the inevitable exchange of hiking credentials, a look of astonishment comes across the faces of knowing audiences when we say we are ATGAME03. (This abbreviation, like an MD or PhD, is how hikers qualify themselves. ATGAME03 indicates that we hiked the Appalachian Trail northbound from Georgia to Maine in 2003.) The astonishment is often accompanied by intakes of breath and the declaration that we made it through The Wet Year.

Before hiking the PCT this year, I was unaware that 2003 had attained the moniker "The Wet Year." But I'm not surprised. It rained so much that even if we dried out in the morning, another afternoon thunderstorm would roll in and drench us again. Water, taking the path of least resistance, often flooded the trail until it became an ankle-deep stream. Our packs and clothes grew specks of black mildew. I can't describe what the saturation did to our hiker funk. You don't want to know. The Wet Year is the reason I couldn't conceive of hiking in the Southern California desert without a full suit of rain gear.

The real problem for me was that every time it rained, Reason would shake his trekking poles at the sky and ask, "Buddha, is this all you've got?" Furious, I'd ask Reason why he felt the need to tempt fate. "What? Are you superstitious?" was always Reason's reply. Such taunts made my blood boil, fueling my logical, scientific Reason's requests of Buddha. He insisted that we were being tested.

And we were. Thru-hiking is a test of endurance. You won't be successful if you don't wake up every day and keep hiking, no matter how hot, cold, rainy, tired, thirsty, or hungry you are. On the AT, you won't make it to Maine unless you pack up your gear and step out of the dry shelter into the cold rain.

I couldn't help but notice, however, that it did seem to rain harder when Reason asked Buddha to bring it on. So when I suggested that Reason "be positive" and ask Buddha for Indian Summer instead of rain, and we got Indian Summer, we decided that Reason must indeed have the power to change the weather. Secretly, I think Reason enjoys his weather-altering superpower!

The warm, beautiful weather was a delight and a relief, but also took a bit of drama away from the finale. The reason we hiked 25 miles a day from Yosemite, after all, was to beat the cold and potentially snowy fall weather in Washington. In 2007, many PCT hikers were prevented from completing the trail due to heavy September snow. We had no intention of setting out for Canada and not making it, so we pushed hard and hiked until dark almost every day. It was hard to rationalize a day off from hiking on a blue, sunny day in Washington. But the final ten days of beautiful weather made me wonder if we could have slowed down a bit to savor the last few days.

When it comes down to it, though, I'm grateful for the weather - and Reason's superpower. Our success this year had much to do with favorable weather conditions. The spring in the desert was mild and the scarce water sources were flowing, the snow levels in the Sierras were low, and Washington and Oregon were for the most part dry and warm. The earlier heavy snows in Oregon and Washington provided ample water sources by the time we arrived. We did keep putting one foot in front of the other until we made it to Canada, but we were lucky. Other years on the PCT are notable for being High Snow Years or Dry Years (meaning water is scarce). Maybe this year will be a Good Year.

While celebrating our good year at the border, we were joined by a gentleman heading south. Like many folks we have met on the trail, this man was a PCT enthusiast. He belongs to the PCTA, goes to trail conventions, and follows on-line trail journals. He even brought along a list of 2008 PCT hikers so that he could check to see if they had signed into the trail register hidden inside the Washington Monument-esque border marker. Like many such PCT enthusiasts, though, he rarely hikes the PCT. When, while interrupting our border reverie to pronounce that the US/Canada border is really an anticlimactic place to complete the PCT, being in the middle of the woods at the bottom of a valley, I had to snap back. "Actually," I said, "I'm pretty excited about it!"

After a short while of being subject to this gentleman's comments and advice on how to hike the trail, I decided to pack up and get ready to hike the final eight miles to Manning Provincial Park headquarters. We had some celebrating to do, and there was a restaurant just ahead.

Once we were out of earshot, I remarked to Reason that I couldn't believe we had just been "post-officed" at the border, on our last day! Post-officing is a term I made up to describe a syndrome that plagues hikers, though typically this happens in town. As you may know, hikers are often dependent upon General Delivery service at rural post offices. Many hikers send themselves packages of food, and of course they need occasional gear changes. (In Reason's case, mere proximity to a post office is reason enough for a delivery of new gear.)

When receiving a package at a small post office, it is typical for a hiker to then proceed to spread the entire contents of his backpack and package around him on the floor in the corner of the post office, or perhaps on the sidewalk outside, for organizational purposes. This is just part of being homeless and lacking the luxury of real estate and privacy. If it has recently rained, the hiker may also spread out his tent and sleeping bag to dry on a nearby wall or fence. This practice is known as hiker-trashing-up a place. The perpetrator is known as hiker-trash. This can be a derogatory term if you are a denizen of the place being hiker-trashed. Alternatively, this can be a term of endearment inside the hiker community, as in: "Look at that hiker-trash over there! I haven't seen you in 200 miles!"

Nevertheless, surrounding yourself by all of your earthly possessions in public tends to draw attention. At the post office, this attention comes in the form of retired gentlemen who seem to have all the time in the world to ask you about your hike. Now, I'm all for cross-cultural exchange, but several factors make post-office syndrome stressful. For one thing, the hiker is usually at a small post office which may only be open for a few hours a day, every other day. The hiker is under considerable pressure to organize his gear before the post office closes for the two hour lunch break or three day holiday weekend. In a short window of time, the hiker needs to focus on what gear to send home or ahead, where exactly to send it, and how long it will take him to get there. To me, this is usually a simple choice, but for gearheads such as Reason this may be a very complicated decision that probably requires advanced math.

Needless to say, a hiker in the throes of critical gear decision making with an ever approaching deadline who has also spread the entire contents of his backpack on the floor around him is a sitting duck. A hiker in this position cannot physically walk away because he needs to finish his PO business before it closes and he can't abandon the very items he depends upon for survival. Further complicating the situation is that hikers are smelly, dirty, unemployed homeless folks who must be on their best behavior. Every hiker who steps foot into a trail town is an ambassador. It only takes one badly-behaved hiker to make the great unwashed hiker community unwelcome in a particular town, and hikers are dependent upon these towns for food, showers, mail, phones, laundry, etc.

Now, the well-behaved hiker will do his best to kindly answer every question that the post-office offender has to ask, but what makes this syndrome particularly punishing is that often the offender is more interested in telling you a long, long, long story. As I said, I'm all for cross-cultural exchange - it is part of why we go hiking - but the window of opportunity at the post office diminishes with every twist and turn of the offender's fish-story.

Obviously, this syndrome is not confined to the post office, nor are offenders just retired men who seem to look forward to spending their mornings at the post office on Saturdays. It happens everywhere. Like when a few hikers were gobbling fresh, gooey cinnamon rolls at the Stehekin, WA, bakery and a resident of the town asked if he could join us at our table. "I just love to hear your stories! So anyway, I was a fisherman in Alaska for twenty years. Let me tell you how I think Japan fixes the price of fish." And he proceeded to give us a very detailed account of the price per pound of fish and the impact of collective bargaining over the last twenty years. Now, I had never thought much about commercial fishing before, but I seem to have learned quite a lot during that "conversation." I was glad to have some insight into this man's life, but we were also four days from the end of the trail and wanted to spend some quality time with our fellow hikers.

Then there was the time at the first post office on the PCT, at Mt. Laguna, CA. Of course we were there on a Saturday and the hours were 10-noon. In this very sleepy neck of the woods, the general store adjacent to the PO has rocking chairs on the porch. And on this particular Saturday morning, those rocking chairs were full of retired gentlemen. I'm certain this had been their destination all week, the PO being a convenient excuse for their wives to send them out of the house or for them to escape their wives. Having been clued in to post-office syndrome on the AT, I gave the men a wide berth on the way to the PO. Reason and I had our ice axes with us, carrying them through the desert due to poor organization, and now we wanted to mail them ahead. One of the rockers pointed at our obviously aluminum-crafted axes and hooked us. "Are those made of carbon fiber? I've been making fishing rods from carbon fiber and they are fantastic!" This went on for a good twenty minutes, and though neither Reason nor I fish, we have a great idea for a simple marinade that can easily be transported into the backcountry. Makes some really tasty trout if you cook them up with the marinade in a foil packet over the fire. Or so I've been told.

So that's that. Now you've been post-officed for six months!

The hike was over before we knew it. Now I'm enjoying sleeping in a bed and regular showers, but I have a hard time sitting still. I just want to keep moving.

Thanks to you all for your interest and support. We had a wonderful hike, and it was all the better knowing that we had fans. Somebody somewhere said something along the lines of 'There is no bore so boring as the travel bore.' It is always hard to describe traveling to someone else, and so I have really enjoyed that so many of you have enjoyed my emails.

Stay tuned for a link to our pictures. Don't worry - we're culling about 100 from our collection of over 6,000 so we stay in your good graces!

Hope to see and talk to all of you soon. All my best,

Cruiser, ATGAME03, PCTMEXCAN08

PCT: ALMOST THERE

Skykomish, WA

Dear all-

Just a quick note to let you know that Reason and I are indeed alive and well. We have weathered much rain and a little snow now that we are in the Pacific Northwest, but are keeping warm and learning to keep dry. We were really spoiled with the shelters on the AT. A roof located every eight or ten miles makes a big difference in wet weather.

We are currently in Skykomish, WA, less than 200 trail miles south of Canada! We've been moving quickly because 1) it is too cold to stop in the rain to rest, and 2) we've wanted to take advantage of every ounce of sunshine when the weather is good. Despite the sun today, we've been relaxing in Andrea and Jerry Dinsmore's wonderful hiker loft and yard by the river just outside of this tiny historic railroad town.

Oregon and Washington are green and beautiful (read: mossy, wet and cold). After a hot and dry start to Oregon, we completed the last 30 miles into the Columbia River gorge in pouring all-day rain -- an apt welcome to Washington where it has rained on us nearly every day! The days are getting shorter and the nights much colder. We're near the end and trying to savor every last minute. We've rarely had to leave the trail in these last two states to resupply, depending instead on nearby resorts which have camp stores or which accept packages that we've mailed ahead. This contributed to a wonderful pace in Oregon. The easy terrain allowed us to hike our first 30 mile days, and staying in the woods kept us from the clamor of civilization. Due to our good physical condition, our mileage has stayed high through central Washington where the Cascades have become jagged with deep canyons. We budgeted 20 mile days for the entire state, but so far we have kept to about a 25 mile per day pace.

We hear the trail becomes more difficult from Skykomish forward, though. This next 100 mile stretch features a section that is annually flooded and prone to avalanches and therefore in very poor repair. We'll encounter the most difficult ford on the PCT at the wide Suiattle River. Luckily, the weather has been dry for the past few days so the flow should not be swollen. Complicating matters further is the (at last count!) 408 old growth blow-downs that we'll have to pick our way across. A blow-down is a tree that has fallen and, in the context of hiking, is blocking the trail. This section is so repeatedly weather-beaten that the assigned ranger district is allegedly loath to maintain it. Normally, a crew of rangers, volunteers and paid conservation corps will cut away trees and brush that block the trail. However, the area with the 408 blow-downs is a designated wilderness area, meaning that mechanized equipment - including chainsaws- cannot be used. Removal of the trees in this wilderness area would have to be done by ax and manual saw. The old growth trees in question are supposedly enormous, and each tree takes down others when it falls, complicating the removal process.

But Reason and I think this will be a fun challenge. We expect to "hike" about a mile an hour through a particularly tangled seven mile section of blow-downs. We'll be climbing up, over, around, under and through trees that have been described as many feet in diameter and hundreds of feet long. We think it will be good training for the infamously brutal Continental Divide Trail!

Though Reason says he is ready for some R'n'R and possibly a week of yoga, I just want to keep going. I feel great and have to stop myself from drooling when I hear others planning their bicycling routes home from Seattle. I spent much of last night and part of today reading the latest Continental Divide Trail planner.

Trail celebrity Eric D is here at the Dinsmores' helping keep order. He finished the trail in mid-August, having passed us long ago just outside Big Bear City in SoCal. We've been speculating about just what is in his tiny backpack ever since, and I feel a bit shy in the presence of such a hiking legend. This is at least Eric D's sixth PCT hike, some of which were yo-yo's (meaning that he hiked from Mexico to Canada, then turned around and hiked back to Mexico in one season). I think he plows snow (white gold) in New Hampshire in the winter. I think I could do that if it meant I could keep hiking...

So you can see, trail fever is never really satisfied. Thru-hikers learn to do without all the material junk in life and find seasonal work to keep their habit going. I've only learned about more trails on this hike, so I'm not any closer to completing anything, really. There is just so much of the world to see. As Yogi's CDT planner puts it, "one trail or three, but not two." I want that Triple Crown plaque!

And by the way, there are actually eight National Scenic Trails...

Cruiser

PCT: NORTH OF THE BORDER

Ashland, OR

Dear all-

We made it -- out of California! It feels good to finally put all 1,700 miles of Cali behind us, including the smoke. We have under a thousand miles left to go... and we may actually need to slow down a bit. This is quite a contrast to our AT hike when we were slowed by injuries and pressed for time until the very last moment.

Reason and I are in the lovely town of Ashland, Oregon. I said OREGON!!! Woohoo!! We seem to have literally crossed some kind of line and are now surrounded by green. On our descent into town we found ourselves shoulder-deep on the flanks of Mt. Ashland in Queen Anne's Lace, lupine and wild lilies. We've even seen some blue skies.

Since I last emailed we've been moving quickly. We set our pace to a consistent 25 miles or more a day, and we're feeling great! Until reaching Ashland we hadn't taken a day off since Truckee, over 20 days and about 550 miles ago. We did take a bus and several hitches around a 100 mile trail closure, and we road-walked 52 miles around a second, smaller closure.

I hope the last of the fires is behind us now. Since June 22nd, the day after the lightening storm that ignited most of the fires in California, we haven't seen much in the way of blue skies. The air has been full of smoke and haze. Once the sun slips behind the curtain of smoke, the sunsets and sunrises are bloody red. A few mornings the smoke has been so thick that the morning is a little dark until about 9:30. Occasionally we've found specks of ash on our tent. We should have had a view of Mt. Shasta for about 250 miles, but we've seen it only three times, and those were only partial viewings. Still, we are enjoying our hike and wish only the best for those who are truly threatened by the fires.

We had a great experience on our most recent detour around a small fire closure. We decided to road-walk from the town of Etna, CA, to the small community of Seiad Valley, CA. I regretted not walking around the last closure -- we have our feet, hearts and lungs, after all and could have employed more self-sufficiency. But then again, road walking is not always as pleasant as trail walking what with the speeding cars, narrow shoulders, lack of resting and camping spots, and polluted water sources. At any rate, we had walked about 16 miles from Etna past the town of Fort Jones, when at about 7:30 in the evening an adorable boy rode his bike out to the road from his farm to invite us to camp. "Wanna camp in our yard tonight, " he asked. "My mom says it's ok."

Well, we couldn't refuse such a charming invitation! So off we went with nine year old "John" and his twelve year old brother "George", who had also run out to meet us. Their brother "Glenn" is a teenager, they explained, and therefore shy and not available to greet us. We arrived at their farm to meet their mother "Susan" and receive a cursory wave from "Glenn", who disappeared into the house to play the piano for the rest of the evening. "Susan" runs a small scale organic grain farm in the lovely Scott Valley. She mills her own grains and sells shares of the yield to about a hundred individual customers in ten deliveries a year. This summer, "John" and "George" are running their own vegetable CSA program under Jennifer's watchful eye. "John" and "George" harvest the veggies each Wednesday, and divide the yield into bags for their eighteen customers. They make their deliveries the same day en route to their piano lessons. (CSA stands for Community Supported Agriculture. A CSA allows an individual to subscribe to their share of a farm's produce. Reason and I have subscribed to a CSA for the past several summers, receiving a bag or two of local, organic produce each week for the duration of the growing season.)

"Susan" laughed that it did seem a little unusual to send her nine year old out to the road to talk to strangers, but the family was aware of the trail closure and had been watching hikers walk by for the past few days. The boys were intrigued, so she encouraged them to find out more. "John" and "George" peppered us with questions for the rest of the evening, all the while showing us the goats, chickens, horses, geese, and even the toads on the farm. We all walked out to the boys' vegetable patch and dug fresh carrots, beets, onions and potatoes right out of the ground to cook for dinner! We added a few green beans fresh from the vine and some fresh eggs, too! When Reason and I exclaimed how nice it was to have such fresh food, "Susan" ran into the house and brought us mason jars of fresh, raw goat's milk yogurt that she made. We were in heaven! "Susan" went on to tell us more about her farm and show us the many grains that she grows. Her farm is very unusual for its small scale and for the diversity and number of grains that she grows. People come from all over North America to visit this farm, and in fact two of her customers stopped by the next morning. I was so interested that "Susan" does all of the work on her farm with the help of a small combine and her own mill, and that she can bypass the wholesaler and sell directly to customers eager for local, organic foods. She only needs the help of a mechanic every now and then!

By the time we chopped the veggies and fried them up with the eggs, it was getting quite late. "John" and "George" stayed up to help us eat, and continued to ask us questions despite their sleepy eyelids. They implored us to stay for pancakes, and we of course couldn't resist! We woke early and were greeted by Heidi the friendly border collie. Then "Susan" taught us to milk the goats and let us have a try! We filled up on toothsome pancakes from grain grown and milled just out back before heading on, much to the disappointment of "John" and "George". We'll be sure to send postcards!

The rest of our road walk was not quite as eventful, but we were at such a low elevation that we were slowed by the abundant blackberries all along the Scott and Klamath Rivers. We also walked through some tiny gold rush hamlets. Gold mining is still alive in this part of California as evidenced by placer claims marked on trees and dredging contraptions parked in the rivers. A local in Seiad Valley explained that the high price of gold has brought more dredges this year than they've seen in many, many years.

Our only other excitement stems from several trail celebrity sightings. Not long after leaving Castle Crags, CA, we were briskly passed by Tattoo Joe and Scott Williamson. Tattoo Joe is the current title holder for the fastest un-supported thru-hike of the PCT at 79 days, having taken the crown from Scott Williamson. This year the two are cooperating and hiking together for a new record. They average about 40 miles a day. They must hurry though, for rumor has it that they have a competitor this year. We think it might be Squeaky, who is well equipped to up the ante. After Flyin' Bryan completed the Triple Crown (AT, PCT and CDT) in a single year by flying back and forth across the country to hike sections of each trail in their best season, Squeaky bested him by thru-hiking all three trails in a single year.

The un-supported hike that Tattoo Joe and Scott Williamson, and maybe Squeaky, are attempting means that they must still supply themselves. No one meets them at road crossings with more food, etc., and they carry their own gear. Ultra-marathoner David Horton holds the record for the fastest supported thru-hike. Horton ran the trail in 66 days, but was supported by quite a large crew. Two others ran with him at any given time, and an army of ultra-marathoners ran to meet Horton at trail junctions and road crossings with his gear, food and water. Horton averaged 46 miles a day, and was often met with ice cream packed in dry ice!

Reason and I also had the pleasure of hiking a bit and breaking with Billy Goat, long-time resident of the PCT. The LA Times recently ran a front page article on Billy Goat. (http://www.latimes.com/news/local/la-me-billygoat25-2008jun25,0,4753131.story) Billy Goat is non-plussed that his given name has been outed.

We met Billy Goat down south near Big Bear City and again near Mt. Baden Powell. This time, Billy Goat explained that he was spending the month of July in a small section of Northern California. He prefers to be in the woods than town, and so has a 30 day supply of food that necessitates two backpacks. This unusual arrangement means that Billy Goat hikes one pack a few miles south, drops it off, then hikes north to retrieve the second pack and walks it south. He does this all day, meaning that he hikes each section three times! Billy Goat spent about two hours with us, giving loads of insight about the upcoming trail and suggesting that we slow down so we won't have to return to civilization too soon!

So that's all. We're now enjoying the town of Ashland. It is a nice hippie/yuppie town with fantastic fresh food. Ashland also has a population of young homeless folks, many of whom I think choose to live off the grid, etc., who are dirtier, smellier and more stained than we thru-hikers. There is quite a bit of tension in town over this issue, and I feel a bit self-conscious in my own homeless and unemployed state. I worry that I might be told to move along!

Ashland is also home to the Oregon Shakespeare Festival, and we took in a show last night. We acquired standing room only tickets for the Comedy of Errors. The play was set as a Western and the action of the long-lost sets of twins and their cases of mistaken identity revolved around the Shady Pine cafe, complete with sheriff, deputy, and madame.

We'll be back in the woods tonight, and will press on towards Canada. Our next stop is Cascade Locks, OR, near the end of August, where we head in to Portland for a visit with Reason's Mother and Grandmother!

Our best to all,

Cruiser

PCT: FIRE ON THE MOUNTAIN

Truckee, CA

Dear all-

I hope you all enjoyed the 4th! Reason and I were in the vicinity of Lake Tahoe, and rather than becoming embroiled in the hectic energy of town we decided to hike to the top of Mt. Tallac, the highest point on the Tahoe rim, and watch the fireworks over the lake. Though the pyrotechnics were in miniature from our vantage point, we saw three shows around the lake!

We are now in Truckee, CA, at Pooh Corner. Pooh hiked the AT and PCT and opens his home near Donner Pass to hikers each summer. (No, we did not have to resort to cannibalism at Donner Pass. We had enough candy bars to make it through!)

Since I last wrote, Reason and I have hiked about 400 miles. We are at about mile 1156. We are nearly halfway to Canada, but even at the halfway point we will still be in California! As you may be aware, there are something like 1200 fires in California at the moment. A one hundred mile section of the trail north of us is closed, so we are working on a way around. Some hikers are hitching around, others are walking on roads. We will likely road-walk so that we won't have to return to this section to complete it. It would be easy to hop up to the Oregon line and hike north, but the heavy snow conditions in Washington and Oregon this year make that impractical. We still need a few weeks for the snow in those states to melt.

Otherwise, all is well. We easily passed through the High Sierra. This is a "low snow" year for the Sierra: great for hikers, bad for Southern California which depends on ALL of the Sierran snow melt for water. I learned that Los Angeles (county?) began buying land and water rights over a hundred years ago in the Owens Valley that lies parallel to the east of the Sierra Nevada. Huge Owens Lake was quickly drained and is now called Owens Dry Lake.

The PCT through the High Sierra coincides with the John Muir Trail for about 250 miles. The optimum time to hike this section is early August after the snow has melted and the mosquitoes have waned. Most JMT hikers walk southbound as this allows them to start at about 8,000 feet and end at Mt. Whitney at over 14,000 feet, acclimatizing along the way. We PCT hikers do the complete opposite. Lucky for us, we had little difficulty with snow or the altitude. According to an article I recently read on Mt. Everest, the human body has about 75% of the capacity to take in oxygen at 9,000 feet above sea level. This capacity diminishes as the elevation increases, and some people experience headache, nausea and sometimes life-threatening pulmonary edema. Resting at altitude helps the body adjust, though I'm unclear on the science. At any rate, Reason and I were able to camp at 10,000 and 11,000 feet for three days in a row before summiting 14,000 foot Whitney, the highest mountain in the lower 48 states. Apart from feeling breathless during ascents above 10,000 feet, we were lucky not to have any problems with the altitude.

Hiking in the snow was a new experience for me. At about 10,500 feet and above, there was still much snow. This often meant that the trail was buried for several miles before and after each mountain pass, or high point, on the trail. Since the PCT is rarely marked or blazed, Reason and I relied on our topographic maps to find our way. Reason dubbed such route finding "choose your own adventure hiking". Since we couldn't always find the exact location of the trail, it just didn't matter! Often we just hiked straight up a snowy mountainside, switchbacks be damned! Coming down the north side of each pass was even more fun: depending on how steep and rocky the terrain, we could often glissade down the mountain, simply sitting down and sliding down the snow! I did strap my crampons on my shoes twice, but the ice axes turned out not to be necessary.

The most difficult part of the snow was walking across fields of sun cups. No, sun cups are not pretty flowers! Sun cups are a natural dimpling of the snow, a phenomenon of the way snow melts that results in crenelations that can be shallow or up to several feet deep. My guess is that this has something to do with the changing angle of the sun throughout the day. Regardless, walking across sun cups is annoyingly tedious. If the dimples are shallow, the walking is slippery but easy. If the dimples are a foot deep, walking becomes increasingly difficult because one must balance on the high, sometimes narrow, rims of each cup. As the day advances, the snow warms and becomes increasingly slippery. At that point, walking across a mile or more of sun cups is exhausting. Which brings me to post-holing: if the snow was very soft, it was not unusual to step deep into the snow at any given moment. One time one of my legs post-holed up to the thigh! There was nothing for me to do but sit down and dig out my own leg because my shoe, being perpendicular to my leg, was wedged under the snow! Such snow conditions required us to strategize our approach to each mountain pass. We always tried to position ourselves so that we hiked up and down each pass before the snow became to soft to navigate.

But I hope we've had the last of the snow for several hundred miles. We've entered a wonderfully beautiful volcanic area. According to some ladies volunteering at one of the ranger stations we've passed, the abundant wild flowers are at their peak. We've crossed mountainside after mountainside full of purple lupine, yellow mule-ear daisies, red and orange Indian paintbrush, fragrant mint, and many others I can't identify.

So much more to tell, but I'll save some tales for this winter!

Best to all,

Cruiser

PCT: HIKING STRONG

Ague Dulce, CA

Dear all-

Well, our idle in Idyllwild lasted a bit longer than we planned... six days! But that was just fine. We can't reach Kennedy Meadows, the southern gateway to the High Sierras, too soon before June 15th or we'll just have to camp out there waiting for the snow to melt. For anyone interested, you can check out Postholer http://postholer.com/cgi-bin/postHoler to see what kind of snow averages we are up against this year. Some places in Washington and Oregon have experienced more than 200% of the yearly average! And in case you don't know, postholing is when you are walking in snow up to your thighs!

As I was saying, Idyllwild was just fine with us. We even came into a routine: wake up to birdsong at the campground, walk up to Cafe Aroma and stay there as long as possible reading the NY Times, sipping coffee, eating their excellent daily omelet and chatting with the locals. In fact, we made the acquaintance of quite a few very nice folks, were treated to breakfast once and even have invitations to visit! "This journey will change your lives", we were reminded by one of our new friends. This was very true of the AT for me. I met my husband, for one thing, and didn't use a hair brush for about a year afterward for another... I can't really explain how I changed, but I did.

But the time came to move along. A Swiss-American couple, whom we have befriended and have been camping with many nights since, turned up in Idyllwild and we all hiked out together. Actually, by coincidence, a second Swiss-American couple turned up at the campground, too. They were both Triple Crown veterans, having hiked the Appalachian Trail, Pacific Crest Trail and the Continental Divide Trail, and so of course gave us a ride to the jeep road back to the trail. They were on their way to a trail reunion with their two little girls.

From the other side of Fuller Ridge, we hiked down into San Gorgonio Pass where I-10 and the Southern Pacific RR cut through the mountains. Though we could see exactly where we were going, this took two days of long, long, tediously long switchbacks over about 25 miles while losing about 6000 feet of elevation. When we reached the pass we were nearly blown away by the incredible winds that have inspired multiple wind farms along the freeway. Walking the two miles through the pass was exhausting. We were walking into the wind while slogging through deep, shifting sand. I was actually delighted to reach the I-10 bridge and collapse in its shade and windbreak! Reason was very happy to see all of this renewable energy put to work! We of course camped in sight of the Mesa Wind Farm, listening to the hum of windmills throughout the night. Not surprisingly, there is a failed residential development in this very area. Something about the busy freeway, constant trains, and unrelenting winds apparently deterred buyers.

We've become much stronger and faster since then, hiking up to 25 miles a day. In fact, because we missed a sign in the dirt that our friends Scratches and Oasis left for us, we hiked a 22 and a 25 trying to catch up with them. They showed up here at the hostel very late on the third day, having hiked about the same miles trying to find us! Generally, the trail tread and grade are fairly gentle. This is in sharp contrast to the Appalachian Trail where the trail goes up and down mountains all day long, gaining and dropping thousands of feet of elevation all the way. We've now hiked just over 454 miles. By this point on the Appalachian Trail my knees and hips ached throughout the night. Haven't much thought about them on this hike so far. Mostly I notice how filthy I am: the trail is considerably dusty and we don't have the luxury of wasting water on hygiene.

We are currently in Agua Dulce, CA, north of the San Fernando valley. We are camped out at Donna and Jeff Saufley's house. Both hikers and active in the PCT community, they open their two acre yard every year for any and all hikers to take a load off. In fact, Donna even does our laundry. When a hiker walks through the gate of the Saufley's, which is marked with a PCT symbol, they are met with a bulletin board instructing the "wretched refuse of your dusty trail" to grab a towel, some sweatpants and a Saufley Electric t-shirt (Jeff is an electrician), and a laundry basket and get started with the business of getting clean. Donna is the arch angel of Trail Angels! There is an old RV and a trailer in the back yard for the hikers as well as tents with cots, a firepit and a grill. The garage is stacked to the ceiling with hiker resupply packages. There have only been about ten of us here, but in a few weeks there will be 30-40 hikers here each night. At that point Donna will have a big tank filled with water and will add some port-o-lets. Though we have been cleaning up after ourselves and pitching in with chores where we can, there is NO CHARGE to stay here or use any amenity. Reason and I plan to leave a nice donation.

Other amenities at the Saufley's include a herd of nine dogs of various shapes and sizes, two draft horses, several laptops with internet, a full kitchen, bicycles, and a car! Our little group wanted to go to REI for new gear, so off we took Big Red the enormous old Chevy Suburban to the LA suburbs. Since I actually lived in LA once upon a time, I was elected to pilot this land boat down the 14, the 5 and the 405 into town. The thing was so big that I needed passenger assistance to make the merge on the sixteen lane 405/5 interchange! My knuckles were a bit white, and 70 mph seemed so fast after topping out at 3mph on foot, but I returned Big Red to the Saufley's without a scratch!

Well, there is so much to tell. Like about how we were in a recreation area on a Saturday and came across a group of men drinking beer, steering tricked-out Jeeps down frighteningly vertiginous dirt roads, and generally having a blast on a beautiful blue day. We were as much in awe of their feat as they were of our hike. They literally showered us with sausage biscuits, iced tea and fried chicken! Yep, fried chicken!! We hiked so fast after that infectiously exciting encounter that we reached the road early, bought a twelve pack, and hiked back to find our friends and share the brew! Though we had no shotgun, we tossed the discharged shells littering our campsite near I-15 at our empty cans in celebration. When in Rome, ...

Also, we hiked over 9000 ft Mt. Baden-Powell. It was covered in soft snow, and we were a bit intimidated by the snowboarders coming down the trail. But we have to get ready for more difficult stretches in the Sierras. Though Reason and Oasis would have kept going up the snowy slopes to the exposed ridge at 3:30 in the afternoon, their wives Cruiser and Scratches suggested a more cautious approach. Let's camp at this flat, less snowy place half way up and tackle the ridge in the morning, said the wives. "The smart people get two votes," said Reason, "and the husbands get one!" Obviously, we tackled the ridge the next day without having to race the sun. It was a blast! The ridge was literally divided by north and south, the south side hot and dry and full of scampering lizards and the north side a field of snow! We simply walked along the wall of snow on the dry edge!

This may be too many switchbacks for some of you, so I will stop now. Suffice it to say that we are having fun, staying safe despite multiple sightings of rattle snakes and poison oak, eating a LOT (Scratches and I rejoice that we no longer have to pretend that we are thirsty when we are hungry!), and are inspired to hike the Continental Divide Trail, ski the Iditarod, cycle across the country, and learn more about the G series of trails in Europe!

Our love to you all!

Cruiser

PCT: ONWARDS

Idyllwild, CA

Dear all-

Reason and I have really been enjoying the comforts of Idyllwild. This is a wonderful little mountain town with enough of a new age bent to provide the raw food blended shakes that Reason so craves! Fortunately, there is a Park Service campground just a block from the action where we have been sleeping for three dollars a night!

The ranks of thru-hikers in residence have thinned. Suntan, Waffles and black lab Mac headed out yesterday after procuring full point crampons and aggressive ice axes from the local outfitter. (While Mac has some cool red doggie boots with Vibram soles to protect his paws in the hot desert, his own claws serve him well on the ice!) Mike and Malani, salmon fishermen from Alaska, are taking an alternate trail and will do their best. They've contacted some of the ranger stations up the trail and figure their chances are good. Zeke, Kate and Leah also took an alternate trail to connect with the PCT later. None of them returned yesterday, so they must be doing alright. Jan, a Purple Heart veteran of two tours in Iraq, was needed at home by his family.

Suntan and Waffles's big talk about five-mile long north-facing 8000 ft plus Fuller Ridge has Reason very excited, and me shaking in my non-Gortex, high-ventilation desert trail shoes. But Suntan and Waffles have lots of winter experience climbing Mt. Shasta, etc., and even they set out with very aggressive equipment. I think they are also only 22! Suntan keeps talking about exercises involving dropping 150 pound duffel bags over ice cliffs and hauling them back up to practice rescue techniques, for example, and has dreams of climbing Everest in three years. I know that I am cramping my husband's sense of adventure, but the truth is that neither one of us has relevant experience. My final argument, that Reason will have to emotionally carry a very apprehensive and frightened Cruiser over that five mile ridge along with his sore knees and his own backpack full of water and six days of food, finally hit home. That would be horrible for both of us!

We have ordered some six-point crampons that should arrive on Saturday. Finding a place to accept UPS packages is quite a chore when you are homeless. We literally canvassed door-to-door until we found a willing participant! Regardless of the advantage that the crampons will give us, we still don't have experience using them. I look forward to gaining winter experience, but now does not seem like a good time to practice. We'll encounter more snow up ahead, but hopefully it will have some time to recede before we get there.

Tomorrow, after we pick up our package, we'll make a road walk to a jeep road that will lead us back to the PCT, bypassing Fuller Ridge. I'd rather walk the next 2,300 miles than take a shortcut 3,000 feet down an icy slope! The other crew of five is headed out today and will do the same.

much love,

Cruiser

PCT: Desert in Bloom

Dear all-

Though there is little water in the desert, there appear to be computers! Reason (aka Todd) and I are currently in Warner Springs, CA. We've just hiked about 110 miles, so only 2555 to go!

I just spent an hour sitting in the pool heated with natural sulfur springs. Though my Canada-bound mind thinks this is cheating, my husband and feet beg to differ. Reason repeatedly reminds me that all professional athletes take at least one scheduled day of rest every week.

We have just hiked through the San Felipe Hills, which border the Anza-Borrego Desert Park. The desert is in bloom, and we could barely make our miles for the many photos we took of the hundreds of blooming flowers. Even the barrel cactus and prickly-pears are blooming. The yuccas have huge white and/or pink plumes, and the agave are just budding with giant central stalks that look quite a bit like asparagus.

Our last section was virtually waterless. However, generous souls known as Trail Angels have hiked scores of gallon bottles of water to two strategic positions along the trail, and this has helped keep us hydrated. We are now in the habit of carrying at least five liters of water at any given time. For you civilians, a liter of water weighs two pounds.

We actually started our first day from the Mexican border with nine liters each! This was a bit too much, but we were not sure exactly what we were in for. It turned out that there was no water from mile five to about mile twenty.

The Mexican border was quite something. Physically, it is a huge metal fence paralleled by a dirt road and another barbed wire fence. The surrounding land is strewn with the detritus of immigrants: drink bottles and food wrappers, discarded clothing and backpacks, and small pieces of woven Mexican blankets which we discovered are used as booties to disguise footprints. Border Patrol guards, trucks, and helicopters are everywhere. Reason and I did not see any immigrants on the trail, but our fellow hikers did. In the town of Campo, 1.4 miles north of the border on the trail, we passed a holding cell full of immigrants being loaded onto a bus - I assume bound for deportation. I made eye contact with one person before realizing what was going on. I then thought quite a bit about the contrast between the indulgent romp I am on and the ordeals of the people in that cell. We saw a number of men being arrested by Border Patrol on our third day, and continued to see evidence of immigrants for over forty miles. I can only say that our first forty miles were not that easy, and that we had relative leisure, plenty of water, sun protection, and warm sleeping bags for the below freezing nights.

So, on towards Canada tomorrow. Our best to all,

Cruiser