This is a video of a backpacking/mountaineering trip I went on a couple years back in The Indian Peaks Wilderness area in Colorado. Enjoy!
This is a video of a backpacking/mountaineering trip I went on a couple years back in The Indian Peaks Wilderness area in Colorado. Enjoy!
This weekend was a good one, full of well-documented adventure. Oh how I love to get out of this terrible, oppressive sprawl. It’s not so much the density of people, or even the urban-ness of an existence here. Honestly, it’s the air, stagnant and thick with hot exhaust and particulate. I’m certain that I’m shaving years off my life every time I take a deep breath of this city’s vapors.
We found ourselves packed like sardines into the black GTI. It’s elegant German engineering lost beneath the provisions and equipment for four of us to enjoy a weekend of camping. We sacrificed ergonomics and leg room (temporarily) for a taste of the natural world which exists somewhere outside this concrete labyrinth. Speeding North, the early morning pinks and reds slowly began to illuminate the sky. Every now and again I caught a glimpse of the PCT as it paralleled parts of our trek to the Southern Sierras.
Breakfast found us in an outdated beige and tan building serving Mexican inspired cuisine. Juevos rancheros filled my belly and would give me some discomfort later. Over cups of coffee my travel companions and I discussed the details of life. We also discussed whether or not the painting of the waterfalls on the wall behind us had the ability to turn on, projecting tranquility on the patrons of this affordable dining establishment. We never could find the switch.
After eating up miles of asphalt through the desert and hugging the corners of a winding canyon, the People’s Car zipped us through the isolated town of Kennedy Meadows. We blinked and it was gone, Tom’s disc gold course a blur on the side of the road. Jeremy recorded high-definition, time-compressed video while Andrew piloted the black rocket ship through the pines. Marcy and I grasped the ‘oh-shit’ handles and felt secure under the groceries and other assorted wares.
Choosing our campsite and erecting tents, we explored our new surroundings. A curious place, this forest. We found ourselves perched on the edge of a large meadow, three strands of barbed wire separating us from it’s golden openness. Trees rose up giving luscious shade, shelter from the alpine sun and it’s radioactive ways. We walked amongst these elements concluding that we were happy and eager to trek.
We began by eating, a great way to begin. Setting off on foot, our objective was clear – a rocky outcropping rising up from the far edge of the meadow. We chose it because it was a high point and we explorers are always drawn to these types of places. You know what I mean. A place high above everything that surrounds it. A place aching with the freedom of unbridled views and brisk winds. From this aerie perch we viewed the landscape as if it were a model, a perfectly represented miniature world stretching out below us and outward to the horizon. We ate more food. We scrambled across and gripped at the rock with our talons.
Upon returning to camp, we promptly assumed horizontal positions on the ground or in a hammock. The shadows lengthened, the sun turned more golden. The woods embraced our tired souls and comforted us with a quiet that only a living landscape can provide.
Waking abruptly, we got back into our transportation and drove on dirt roads, upwards to the Bald Mountain Fire Lookout. A brisk walk saw us to the base of a steel tower rising upwards into the afternoon sky. Our natural instinct as adventurers is to climb upwards, upwards, higher! And right there, at the top of this metal geometric fortress was a man. His duty: viewing this stunning landscape of granite. He watches the heavens, carefully identifying Vulcan’s electrical outbursts, plotting the locations where they smash into the earth. This wonderful BLM employee is named Tom.
A day fully enjoyed. We retreat to the comfort of our dirt patch to kindle a fire and fill our stomachs. All manner of fancy appetizers whet our pallets for some schlongs which Marcy tosses on the cast-iron grate above our flame. Wine is uncorked. Memories are shared. In this tradition of eating, drinking, and enjoying the company of others, great bonds are forged between friends. We take time to play with the camera at night, truly a fun group activity. Later, as the last one awake, I bask in the warm glow of the coals, red and orange, pulsing radiant heat.
Day two greets us travelers with cold morning air. Reluctantly our entourage breaks camp, eats cold yoghurt (Noosa, the best), and piles back into our vehicle. We’re rolling further West through the forest, over a mountain pass, and into the Kern River Canyon. The landscape is changing. Gone is the dry, thin air that once desiccated our lips and noses. Now, the shadow of large trees holds in the damp smell of the forest floor. Lime green moss clings to the red, deeply-furrowed bark of old giants as we turn at a sign labeled ‘Trail of 100 Giants’.
That sense of insignificance we all feel in the presence of great things is washing over me from high above. This colony of giants is both welcoming and unsettling. Are these trees happy or vengeful? Would they say to us, ‘thank you for preserving this grove’? Or maybe, ‘fuck you Henry Ford’. I’d like to think the former. I just hope they don’t drop an un-needed branch on my head in an attempt to settle the score.
Our troop frolics and meanders through the ancient sentinels, heads cocked at an awkward angle to glimpse the highest reaches of the canopy. Some of these trees are over two-hundred and seventy feet tall. Strolling right up to them like they are old friends, we run our hands over their spongy bark and duck under their exposed roots or into their burned out centers. This amusement park beats the hell out of anything made by the hands of men. Individual cells organized themselves over millennia into these magnificent organisms. How humans could commit such a crime as defiling this amazing planet that has nourished and provided for us is beyond my capacity of understanding.
The weekend is coming to an end and we must return to the coast. We would love to remain in this mystical place, among rocks, sticks, and soil. These places are not ours to keep. Embracing the impermanence of ourselves we can embrace the impermanence of the world, the dynamic and chaotic collection of matter that makes up our reality. Organizing and reorganizing, elements and thoughts blend together into a collective consciousness which vibrates and echoes out into the black void of the cosmos.
I am JACKED right now. The caffein in this americano is helping me remember days spent in the café in the town of Lone Pine, California, biding my time while my shin splints healed. The further the PCT recedes into my rearview, the more precious the memories become that I can still hold onto. Just last night Banana Boat and I enjoyed some FaceTime, recounting our glory days while we struggle to find as much pleasure in regular life.
My last post was back in July? Wow. I had just gotten off the trail and found myself newly located in Hollywood…Hollywierd. If ever there were a place more at odds with my personality, I’d like to experience it, just for a moment for some perspective. Believe it or not I am enjoying my time here. I am enjoying my time with my Father and his partner, both of whom I have only seen occasionally in the past 10+ years. I have also had the chance to re-connect with an old middle school friend not to mention make a bunch of new friends. Overall the social experience here has been quite pleasant. I am glad to report that the more places I find myself living, even temporarily, it’s always possible to find cool, interesting, genuine people.
Speaking of interesting social experiences, I just returned from Burning Man. The only thing you REALLY need to know about the experience is that it was life-changing and I will be going back. Without writing and exhausting narrative of my 12 days in the desert vortex, I feel like it is my duty to correct some common misconceptions about this gathering. First of all, this is not a concert or music festival. Music is a major part of the event but it is only part of the experience. Not EVERYONE is nude. In fact, naked or partially naked people are definitely a minority at Burning Man, although you might not think so based on popular images of the event. Either way, not everyone chooses to whip out their goodies. Along the same train of thought, Burning Man is not some crazy sex-romp. Sure, it could be a sexual experience if one was seeking that kind of adventure but again, you would be a minority. It was for a couple of these main reasons that previously I never attended the event – mostly because a significant other didn’t want me going to this magical place. Understandable (although ridiculous at the same time if you really KNOW me).
So what IS Burning Man? Well, you can read about the guiding principles on the BM website if you want a definition. The best way I can describe the event is PURE LOVE. I have never previously been in a social environment that is so caring and accepting of ‘the individual’. EVERYONE is welcomed into the Black Rock Desert and received with a warm hug and respect. In this desolate wasteland you will embody your truest self and everyone will love you for your bravery and honesty. Ok, enough about that – the take home message here is that if you have EVER had even the slightest interest in Burning Man, you should go. I will post a link as soon as our time-lapse video is done being edited and online.
After 12 days of travel, music, very little sleep, and immersion into this new culture, I returned to Los Angeles.
Since my return I have been very actively seeking work. I am slowly wondering why I choose
such an obscure major in college. I have applied to MANY jobs, most of which have not even returned phone calls or sent confirmation emails, assuring me they have received my resumé. This is a competitive job market. All (most) PA work on films is usually unpaid unless you have previous experience…ok. Serving/restaurant jobs all require 2-4 years serving experience…ok. Basically catch 22 kind of stuff. I do have my second interview since getting here tomorrow. It is what it is.
I have started doing some freelance graphic design on the side, building my portfolio and learning as I go. My online portfolio can be found here if you have any interest.
I am trying to stay positive by doing fun things (that don’t cost much money) during the weekend when friends have time off from work. Most recently we went down to San Diego county and surfed at San Onofre State Beach (just
North of the old nuclear reactor). That evening we camped at the State Park. Great time with great friends. My friend Jeremy put together a great little video shot and edited entirely on his iPhone 6. You can find it here, San OnofreSurf Day.
Ok, I’m losing interest so instead of rambling I will end this post. Thanks for following along, will try to make the updates a bit more regular.
Beads of sweat roll down the side of my beverage, collecting on the New Belgium coaster. A slight breeze of artificial, cool air hits my left ankle while I sit on leather. Needless to say, I am not on the PCT. That corridor of continuous change. The beautiful and wondrous sanctuary for travelers and those seeking adventure continues to exist in what feels like an alternate reality just to the North-West. The contrast of Los Angeles, the smog and noise is a polar opposite. My former company continue exercising an existence of simplicity and utility while this boiling ass-fault (get it…) sprawl is filled with hoards of designer clothed zombies, stumbling in all directions with shopping bags full of excess.
I left the trail for financial reasons. I began hiking this season, not knowing if I would be able to afford to make the trip all the way to Canada. Spoiler alert, I ran out of money before making it there. I’m not upset, nor am I bitter towards those that are continuing on without me. I am filled with inspiration and awe from my experience. I only hiked about 800 miles of the 2600+ miles of trail that exists. If you ever get on the trail, you will learn quickly what I have come to understand intimately; the experience is the journey. Maybe you don’t have to hike the trail to make this assumption.
My journey ended in one of the most remarkable experiences of selflessness and kindness that I have experienced in my life. Snooze (Megan) and I finished hiking at Vermillion Valley Resort, an oasis of civilization in the Sierra Nevada mountains of California. From VVR we hitched into the small resort town of Mono Hot Springs where we soaked and enjoyed a night of camping. The next morning, beautiful cardboard sign in hand, we packed our bags and sat outside the Forest Service campground, thumbing for a ride. Within an hour of sitting down, a white pickup slowed down and a kind traveler said that if we were still there when he finished eating lunch, he would gladly drive us to Fresno. We smiled and told him we’d be there.
Within an hour the familiar truck came rolling back towards us and we quickly jumped to our feet to throw our bags in the bed. Buck was a clean-dressed, friendly guy in his 50’s. With almost questionable enthusiasm, he said he would be more then happy to drive us to Fresno (2+ hours East). Upon jumping into the truck we all struck up conversation immediately and knew we were in good company. Buck had been coming up to Mono Hot Springs since he was a young man to go fishing. His wife had given him the ok to take a small vacation and relive some of his fishing glory days so he made the love drive up into the mountains. Although the fishing was questionable, he had a pleasant visit. Buck asked about the ins and outs of hiking on the JMT/PCT, told us about his adventures hitch hiking across the country as a teenager, and recalled fondly the kindness and open-hearted nature of those on the road. He said he had such a positive experience traveling when he was younger, that he wanted to give back by helping us on our way. We liked Buck a lot.
Eventually we rolled into the city of Fresno and arrived in front of a dilapidated building in what seemed to be a sketchy part of town. This was the Greyhound bus station where we would catch a cheap and uncomfortable bus ride the rest of the way to Los Angeles. Before we could offer Buck some gas money, he was practically forcing a folded bill into my hand. We refused for a minute, making quite the scene which eventually compelled me to grab his offering. We explained that we couldn’t take any money from him, he had already driven out of his way. Could we give this back and give YOU some gas money we suggested. Buck wouldn’t have it, saying that our company was payment enough and that we knew we were ‘good people’. Pay it forward he said. We tried to get his contact info but he was reluctant saying he didn’t want us to mail him any money back. We stood there amazed at his generosity and after a brief hug and exchange of smiles, Buck was back on the road. Opening my hand, I found $40, bus fare for Snooze and I to get to LA. This is real trail magic folks.
After purchasing our tickets, we walked through a deserted hispanic part of town, searching for food. The streets were empty and all the businesses closed, a very strange scene for a city. Eventually we were able to get something to eat and returned to the bus station. Our ride to LA was what you might expect for a bus – long and cramped. The WIFI that the poster in the station glorified was next to useless and neither of the 120 volt outlets that were advertised worked consistently.
Getting into downtown at 11pm, we waited on torturous metal benches until my Dad whisked us away to Studio City. Snooze and I spent the next few days catching up on much needed sleep, watching terrible day-time television, and indulging in restaurant food. Gotta love ‘real life’. We both longed for the trail, the simplicity of adhering to the schedule of the sun. The monotony of walking for hours. This strange and impermanent existence had become so normal to us, it was unsettling to change it. But change it we must – Megan had to get back to Connecticut for her Sister’s High School graduation and I needed a job. We parted ways at LAX, heads still full of fresh memories from our JMT adventure.
So that brings us to the present. I’m here, living with my Dad in LA, looking for a job. Oh how fun the real world is. Find a job so I can pay my bills so my credit score isn’t totally fuct (too late). Get a job so I can make my car payment and student loan payment. But hopefully the job I find can be more then just a means to an income – hopefully it can be enjoyable. Do you have a job for me?
I’ve been sitting in the small cafe now for about an hour. The staff mill about behind the counter, refilling refrigerated coolers and food prep stations. Chris is reading the LA Times which I have already thumbed through. I read an article about the impacts of recreational marijuana legalization on states bordering Colorado as well as a few other paragraphs from different news stories. A mudslide in Colorado, a psychotic killer in Southern California, a promise from the President to Veterens, etc., etc., and so forth, and so on. I put the paper down and begin writing this blog article. A few minutes later Choop walks in the door, high-fiving Chris. The two just met yesterday, just as Chris and myself met this past week. One minute we were total strangers, the next all sharing living and sleeping quarters in the tiny town of Lone Pine, California. Is my world really the same world I was reading about only 20 minutes ago in the newspaper?
I glance up at the flat screen looming in my periphery, images of Katy, Jennifer, and other beautiful celebrities flash across the screen before and add for some terrible movie involving who-knows-what. It’s all very distracting and it’s very common. Have you ever taken note of how many flashing panels of moronic nonsense fill YOUR periphery? In a society that is shocked by violent outbursts fueled by sexual frustration, is it so hard to see the media shoving violence and sex in your face every chance they get? Don’t get me wrong, I’m terribly disturbed and saddened by the recent tragedy that took place in SoCal and I feel for those poor people who were affected.
But trail life is different. I’ve hiked roughly 700 miles of the Pacific Crest Trail this season so far and I foresee myself making it to Yosemite Valley, maybe further before I have to return to ‘real life’. But wait, the trail life IS my real life. *Ring Ring* My cell phone screen comes to life and my Father is on the other end telling me that I need to figure out the registration on my car. It expires in two months…ahhh, the REAL world is calling.
Back to the issue at hand. I’ve been sleeping in the back yard of a friend I made less then a week ago, with two other friends I met in the woods. The house we were welcomed into remains unlocked so we can come and go as we please, use the kitchen, take a shower, whatever we need. This is my reality right now. It’s this beautiful alternate-reality I have talked about previously. It’s the community of like minded individuals who value relationships, travel, experience. They remain undistracted by all the bullshit that’s flashed in front of our faces like a steak in front of hungry dogs. We don’t bite or even lunge. Our satisfaction is found in the aerie crags, the evening conversations over a beer, the afternoon dip in an icy mountain stream. It’s true, our lives are touched by all that pervades society. Divorce, suicide, loss, and sadness. In the open-natured hearts of the characters I’ve meet we’ve discussed all of these issues. A sort of therapy session exists out here that you don’t pay for in dollars but instead earn in sweat.
Now I’m glancing up at a commercial for furniture – NO INTEREST, LOW MONTHLY PAYMENTS, BUY NOW! It reminds me of the impermanence of our existence. We accumulate stuff for the purpose of…what exactly, I’m not sure. We can’t take it with us to the next life. My experience is that the more crap you own, the less freedom you can easily find. Less then a year ago I gave away my furniture, sold my beloved blender, packed all the rest of my life into my Subaru and submitted to the call to go West. It was a good decision.
And with impermanence in mind, I realize that these friends, these dirtbag, homeless, traveling friends will continue their journeys. We are here for only a short moment, the intersection of four people’s dreams and adventures converging at this special in time and place. Maybe this is the only adventure we will share together or maybe our trajectories will cross again, it’s uncertain. What is certain is the beauty of this existence – this adventure together. It’s far from a ‘typical’ lifestyle, but from what I see flashing across the TV screen right now, I’m glad that we are experiencing something different.
Friends! Family! Acquaintances, hiker trash, travelers, walkers of all continents, hello! I’ve been looking for an opportunity to sit down and write for quite some time now, a difficult prospect given my current lifestyle. Walking along the PCT, the last thing I find myself wanting to do is sit
down and write although my head is filled with stories and ideas. There are worthwhile, interesting adventures around every corner, certainly worthy of my time for reflection. In this world of technology and modern conveniences you might think it would happen easily, but no! When you are walking 20 miles a day, life becomes simplified – wake, eat, walk, eat, sleep, repeat.
Here I am in Lone Pine, California, taking a break from my long walk North. I have covered some 700 miles by foot and find myself resting in this wonderful town on the edge of the Eastern Sierra Nevada mountains. The massive granite monolith that is Mt. Whitney, among many other prominent peaks, stare down at us eager travelers. It’s as if they say, “come to this high wild place, bring only your sense of adventure”. We marvel at their beauty, we are drawn in like moths to a light. Mt. Whitney is the highest peak in the lower 48 states and it’s not even on our immediate route but we are drawn to it. Before I elaborate on my current location and what lies ahead, I will get a little abstract.
Let’s address the idea of trail time – it’s a kind of time travel, alternate reality situation. I was in Idyllwild roughly a month ago. The terrain and time covered by foot since then has given me a sense of great distances that have been lost to modern modes of travel. It’s possible to cover large distances by car, train, or airplane in a single day. Traveling by foot however quickly transports us back to a time when the world was a BIG place. All of a sudden 20 miles has a much different feel – it’s not an easy distance to cover, at first. The hiker who is new to long-distance travel will quickly find that with determination and hard work, walking 30, 40, maybe even 50 miles in a single day is attainable. But don’t worry, the world is still a big place within the limits of walking.
Idyllwild was a great mountain town and I enjoyed the cool air and breezes there for two days.
Continuing North, I headed up over San Jacinto peak and then down Fuller Ridge into White Water, CA. There I stayed with Ziggy and the Bear, wonderfully elderly trail angels who greeted us with cold drinks and open hearts. My first big eat-a-thon at the Morongo casino was a welcome adventure before getting a ride with our friend Sandizzle back down to Lake Morena State Park for ADZPCTKO, the annual PCT kick off event. Backtracking the miles we had hiked from Lake Morena jolted us back to ‘small world’ as we moved at incredible speeds thanks to good old ‘Merican fossil fuel.
Kick Off was enjoyable but I think my favorite part of the event was seeing all the ultralight gear put to the test as a low pressure system moved through, bringing with it torrential rain and wind gusts up to the 50s. A $500 cuben fiber tent might weight 1 pound, but does it hold up in
these blustery conditions? I will admit, that evening when the weather was the worst, I awoke at 3am to my tent walls deflecting the wind and rain. As I lay there awake, two of my tent stakes simultaneously pulled out of the ground and my tarp collapsed on my face. Scrambling for my headlamp and rain shell, I jumped out of my former fortress in an attempt to re-pitch my house. I worked as fast as possible, the whole time thinking in my head, ‘don’t let your down bag get wet’. Although I got soaked in the process, all my gear that was under my tarp stayed dry and within about 20 minutes I was sleeping once again.
Making our way back to the trail from kickoff proved more difficult then I originally anticipated.
The ride board that was supposed to help us hikers hook up with people who might drive us to our desired destinations was not as useful as expected. I had come to kickoff with Roi, Sarit, and Arctic but I found myself driving North with a different group of hikers. I was sad to leave my friends but the opportunity of an open seat in a car could not be passed up. I took one more partial day off when I got back to Ziggy and the Bear’s house before sprinting North, covering 98 miles in 3 days.
From White Water I began the long climb to Big Bear, another small mountain town in SoCal. It was during this stretch that I reconnected with my friend Borealis who was also down at kick off. The two of us enjoyed an evening of camping together before the 6000 foot climb. I had an afternoon resupplying in Big Bear where I met a lovely trail angel named Alicia who offered to drive me back to the trail.
From Big Bear the trail jogged West and took us towards Silverwood Lake State Park and then down to Cajon Pass. My Dad and his Partner drove up from LA to meet me at this major road crossing and had lunch together before they took me to purchase more food. I was excited and
dreading the next section of the trail – the biggest climb on the PCT, from Cajon Pass to Wrightwood, over 7000 feet in one single push. Wrightwood was AWESOME. One of my hiking friends, C-Lion has some friends that live there who welcomed us into their home. Steve and Shannon fed us baby back ribs, tacos and beer. They brought us to their local country club for a relaxing afternoon. They made us feel like family and we will be forever grateful for their kindness and generosity.
We were apprehensive to leave Wrightwood but knew that we needed to continue North. We climbed out of town towards Mt.Baden Powell where the ancient trees showed their character. Days of hiking took us into the small town of Agua Dulce where the famous Hiker Heaven can be found. When I met Donna Saufley I was greeted with a big hug even though I hadn’t showered in a week. We were given showers, internet, mailing services, cots to sleep on, and rides into town. C-Lion, Banana Boat and I got a ride to REI to pick up some needed supplies. Banana Boat’s Aunts and Uncles meet us and treated us to a large Mexican lunch where we
feasted on burritos. We were amazed by our appetites and less then an hour after this meal we stopped into In And Out for burgers and milkshakes.
From the Saufley’s, we took one long day and hiked straight to Casa De Luna, aka The Anderson’s place. Terry welcomed us in and once again we felt the love. Dinner and breakfast were generously provided for us hungry hikers. Although we would have loved to stay we continued out the next day, making a brief stop into the Rock Inn for second breakfast. I let my friends get ahead of me while I made some overdue phone calls before hitching forward about 12 miles and then walking the last few miles on the road into Hiker Town. This funky little ‘village’ was a nice afternoon stop, but after raiding the hiker box for supplies, we continued hiking at 5 o’clock that evening to get some miles done in the cool of the evening. We hiked until 2 in the morning,
collapsing into a pile of unconsciousness, surrounded by wind turbines in the desert.
Continuing North to Tehachapi our friend C-Lion came to the conclusion that he needed to get off trail for a bit to deal with some real life stuff. He rented a car and Banana Boat and I drove down to San Diego with him to say good bye. We were welcomed and enjoyed a nice good bye dinner that evening before getting some good rest. The next morning we woke up very early so that we could drive through LA to stop in at my Dad’s house to wish him a belated birthday and enjoy some coffee and doughnuts. I grabbed a few pieces of gear that I needed and we made our way North, back to Tehachapi. Banana and I finished our resupply and did some night hiking that evening, again finding ourselves sleeping under wind turbines.
Walker pass was the next major milestone which we reached. This area was exciting in the sense that there are no natural water sources, just a couple caches. After some extended
waterless stretches of hiking, we made it to Walker where Banana and I hitched into Lake Isabella. We ate pizza and bought more food before attempting to get back to the trail. 2+ hours of attempted hitching got us nowhere until one of the guys who was working at the pizza joint saw us and gave us a ride 10 miles up the road. More unsuccessful hitching and eventually a couple that had driven by multiple times offered us a ride if we could just give them some gas money. We happily took this ride and ended up sleeping at Walker Pass that evening before getting back to our march North.
From Walker Pass we began the climb to
Kennedy Meadows, the gateway to the Eastern Sierras. We got very lucky with weather (we had mailed our tents and rain gear ahead from Tehachapi to Kennedy Meadows to save weight). As we walked into town a weather system moved through bringing rain (and snow to the higher elevations). Banana and I enjoyed the company of many other friends in town for two days at the General Store in front of the wood stove. Temperatures dropped into the 30’s at night, we were in the mountains again. Due to some personal obligations, I made the decision to skip the next 50 miles of trail and get a ride from Kennedy Meadows down to Lone Pine to take care of some legal paperwork (which I ended up not being able to accomplish, F you Boulder County court system!). I had also developed some painful shin splints in the last 100 miles of hiking and this was a good opportunity for rest
and recovery before my friend Megan arrives and we head back into the mountains on the John Muir Trail section of the hike that begins here.
Upon arriving in Lone Pine I met some very friendly climbers who welcomed me into their home and let me put my tent in their back yard. The experience here has been wonderful.
Wow, that was a lot of stuff to catch up on. Hopefully it didn’t get too boring although I’ll admit that after typing 1800 words I got a bit bored. It was fun to recall all of the events that led to this moment, a rare moment in every day life but quite a common one of the PCT. It really is amazing how complete strangers will relate to you like you are an old friend, doing what they can to make this epic journey a little more realistic.
Ok – Hello friends and family! Thanks for sticking around even though I haven’t added anything new in quite some time. A realization I’ve had: Blogging from the trail is tough. I hate to admit this truth to myself. I’d rather not tell myself that I’m going to be catching up in the near future because that would be a lie. Blogging from the iPhone – not gonna happen. Since I am not carrying an iPad or similar tablet, this limits me to computer blogging. Computer/internet cafes are not very common on the PCT so that means my ability to write on my blog is limited. This coupled with the fact that I would need to write about weeks of trail time in a single afternoon just makes it nearly impossible to keep things current. While I would love to provide you with exciting stories and funny anecdotes from the trail, I can’t use my limited free-time glued to the computer screen.
Here is my plan. On the right hand margin of the blog you will see a Twitter feed as well as an Instagram feed. I will continue posting photos to Instagram because it is easy and not time consuming. I will start posting my mileage via Twitter so that you can see where I have made it to. This is the best I can do for now.
The past couple weeks have been chock full of excitement. Beautiful mountains, scorching desert, friendly thru-hikers and over indulgence in meals are some of the moments that have punctuated a priceless experience. I am currently in Acton, California, at Hiker Heaven (one of the trail angel houses). We have hot weather on the horizon and some substantial stretches of desert (the Mojave) to cross before we ascend into the beginning of the Sierra Nevada mountains. We hikers are excited with our progress and the high alpine lakes on the horizon are driving us forward and keeping our legs fresh.
One other bit of excitement – I received a very thoughtful PayPal donation from an international follower – THANK YOU. Every little bit helps and even encouragement makes me feel rich.