hike

Looking Back: struck down by sickness (pt. 2)

We left off with Jonathan and myself making our approach toward Snoqualmie Pass (see part 1 if you're curious). My condition was somewhat stable - I was experiencing stomach pains and suspiciously frequent trips to the tree toilet (going to the bathroom meant running off into the trees as quickly as possible), but my spirits were high, I could eat and I had caught my hiker friends.

After our 30 mile day we woke with a 12.5 mile hike to Snoqualmie Pass. I was still feeling good and was hiking fast. I was so hungry! We got moving early and hoped to reach the pass by lunchtime. As I went I started to get that familiar stomach ache, but didn't think I would have a problem eating.

Soapbox the morning he and Smokes hiked into Snoqualmie Pass

Soapbox the morning he and Smokes hiked into Snoqualmie Pass

View of Mt. Ranier before we hiked into Snoqualmie Pass.

View of Mt. Ranier before we hiked into Snoqualmie Pass.

The hike to the pass was gorgeous. We were high up on a ridge looking down into a valley, able to see highway 90 and hear the sounds of cars echoing off the mountains, quite amplified as they were a thousand feet or more below us. Again, I'd like to emphasize Washington's beauty. As we walked north through the state I was continually struck by the raw quality of the forests, challenges presented by the sheer mountains, and the impressive infrastructure people had built to cross the wild country.

We gained the pass and I descended with Smokes to Snoqualmie (I'm not sure if it's really a town, maybe more of a highway exit with a ski resort?). We ran down a ski run towards a gas station and hotel at the bottom. We knew there was food. We knew there was beer. We had resupply boxes at the gas station. Pedi and Frizzle were there already, having camped ahead of Butters, Smokes, Trail Dancer and me (oh, and Frizzle and Pedi tend to get up early and walk crazy fast).

We arrived at the Chevron gas station as a school bus was making a pit stop. Smokes and I dropped our packs and made a bee-line for the toilets. Oops. Huge lines. Two toilets. School field trip. Not. Good. Anxiously I walked around the store - tons of random stuff. Hiker resupply boxes apparently were delivered from a post office in North Bend (20 miles away) and stored in a walk-in cooler-turned-post office, and your usual gas station food and drink options were all over. Finally, I could take care of my business (the toilet). Next was the food. I assure you, gas station cheeseburgers never tasted so good. Eventually, Smokes and I tracked down Pedi and Frizzle at a coffee shop/DoT bathroom and shower facility (the two shared a building; I don't know how else to describe it).

Hiker trash hanging out, going through resupply boxes in Snoqualmie Pass. (Smokes, Trail Dancer and Frizzle)

Hiker trash hanging out, going through resupply boxes in Snoqualmie Pass. (Smokes, Trail Dancer and Frizzle)

Still feeling okay. It was early afternoon. My stomach may have been a little sore, but I attributed this to hunger, not sickness, and hoped all that was behind me. I'm not sure I've ever been so wrong.

Our little hiker band had reunited - Pedi, Butters, Frizzle, Smokes, Trail Dancer, myself and even Early Bee had joined up while we went through our resupply boxes (on the ground on the side of a public restroom). We were able to buy some beers, we had some coffee, we decided we would share a hotel room and rest up (thank god).

I think the trouble started at dinner when Smokes and I went to the hotel restaurant. I started eating my sandwich and french fries. Then disaster struck. The first time I just briskly walked to the restaurant bathroom. Not good. Let me just summarize that everything coming out of me was liquid, and I didn't feel safe leaving the bathroom. I threw my card at the server, quickly signed, and ran back to the room, replacing myself on the toilet therein.

Not good. My condition rapidly deteriorated from beer-drinking, burger-eating hiker to a feeble, shaky and pale toilet-hugging mess. As the rest of the hikers were enjoying beers and eating in the room I struggled to lie on the bed without running to the bathroom. I managed to drink water and eat some Triscuits (both of which still upset my stomach and triggered toilet trips). I kind of slept, but I discovered rolling onto my stomach, my back, or right side was more movement than my body could deal with. I would have to drag myself back to the bathroom. It was truly a sad state of affairs. I think somewhere between 10 pm and 1 am I was unconscious, but 2 am to sunrise was a back and forth routine from bed to toilet. I felt like hell - I was painfully hungry as my hiker body craved calories to replace the thousands it had consumes over the previous couple of days (not to mention that this was day 130, and I had virtually no body fat left) on top of the frequent ejections my body forced me to make.

Morning came and the other hikers woke, packed and hit the restaurant. I took Imodium and was scared and uncertain about what to do. I could not hike. The closest clinic was in North Bend and there were no public transit options. As sick as I felt, thumbing it was out question. Pedi and Frizzle asked around to find a ride. I called a trail angel, no luck - the angel was on vacation. Once the Imodium took effect I passed out. Thank god. Sleep never felt so good. While I was passed out Pedi and Frizzle had found a ride! Ghost Angel's husband was driving past North Bend and would help us out. I loaded up on Imodium (I wasn't sure how long I could last without a toilet nearby) and we waited for him to get back.

All the hikers who had seen me get sick waited around to make sure I got help - the trail is an incredible culture and  there is a camaraderie and sense of family among these beautiful strangers that I have not experienced in regular society. I mean, these folks don't know me but still watched to make sure I got a ride. We hugged, shook hands and said we'd see each other again before I got in the car to find a doctor.

We made it to the clinic in North Bend; our ride dropped us exactly where we needed to go. The clinic was great and helpful. New experience: I had to shit in a "hat"... they needed to test my stool for all the gross things that cause violent pooping and nausea and all that jazz. Unfortunately, I had to evacuate as soon as I got to their office so I had to bring the "hat" with me - Pedi, Frizzle and myself stayed in a North Bend hotel where I would have to collect a stool sample (yippee!). It was strange to spend so much time off the trail around people and more strange to not be able to eat. The clinic doctor, who went to med school in St. Louis, prescribed me Flagyl, a strong antibiotic used to treat Giardia, and I went to the hotel to PTFO (pass the f@#$ out).

I still had to run to the bathroom, but the severity of awfulness I was experiencing had subsided slightly. I slept off and on through the night. I was on antibiotics for 12 hours. By morning I was hurting, but hurting from hunger more than anything else. We went to a restaurant and talked over our plan. Frizzle would hitch out immediately after breakfast. Pedi and I would squat in the room as long as we could. For lack of other options Pedi and I decided we would hit the trail and just hope I would recover quickly.

At 11 am we packed our bags and walked out of the hotel room. I was shaky and honestly afraid I would have to run behind a building to go to the bathroom while we walked to the highway to hitch back to the trail. Luckily we made it and promptly were picked up by a thru-hiker from a previous year, she dropped us at the trailhead at Snoqualmie Pass where I was able to use a privy. We were back on the PCT and would continue our hike while I (hopefully) recovered.

To be continued

Hope you are enjoying the saga

Dan (aka Soapbox)

Sick Soapbox and trusty friend, Pedi hitching to get back to the trail from North Bend.

Sick Soapbox and trusty friend, Pedi hitching to get back to the trail from North Bend.

View of highway 410 before we hiked into Snoqualmie Pass, near Sheep's Lake.

View of highway 410 before we hiked into Snoqualmie Pass, near Sheep's Lake.

Some nature being all natural and stuff.

Some nature being all natural and stuff.

I was low on substantial food so i make a Cheeto, mayo, parm, mustard, hummus wrap. Felt like Arrested Development. No way this is why I was feeling sick...

I was low on substantial food so i make a Cheeto, mayo, parm, mustard, hummus wrap. Felt like Arrested Development. No way this is why I was feeling sick...

Scenes of Washington

Washington, the final state on the PCT, was a doozy. After the easy cruising we did through Oregon, Washington was not about to let us reach the finish without working for it. And work for it we did. Despite the struggles, Washington presented us with truly mind-boggling scenery. Goat Rocks was probably the most magnificent section followed very closely by the north Cascades. Really though, most of the state was quite impressive.

Unfortunately, this post will give you a slightly smaller glimpse of the state than I would have liked. About a week's worth of time spent in the Evergreen State was spent in thick clouds and rain. By Washington my camera proved less than capable of performing in the rain and was relegated to staying dry(ish) in my pack for large chunks of the trail. Also, at least 1/3 of the trail through Washington was forested. Rather than give you a gallery of tree photos, I figured I would spare you the monotony, give you one solid forest photo and then move on to the grand scenes. 

Mile 2173

Mile 2173

Mile 2272. Mt. Adams

Mile 2272. Mt. Adams

Mile 2279. The beginning of Goat Rocks.

Mile 2279. The beginning of Goat Rocks.

Mile 2281. Goat Rocks

Mile 2281. Goat Rocks

Mile 2285. Knife's Edge with Mt. Rainier in the background.

Mile 2285. Knife's Edge with Mt. Rainier in the background.

Mile 2297. Mt. Rainier

Mile 2297. Mt. Rainier

Mile 2326

Mile 2326

Mile 2606

Mile 2606

Mile 2393

Mile 2393

Mile 2409. Kendall Katwalk

Mile 2409. Kendall Katwalk

Mile 2410

Mile 2410

Mile 2413

Mile 2413

Mile 2582. We took a slightly alternate route. 

Mile 2582. We took a slightly alternate route. 

Mile 2636

Mile 2636

Mile 2605

Mile 2605

Mile 2580. Lake Chelan

Mile 2580. Lake Chelan

Mile 2650. Technically this is a scene of Washington and Canada.

Mile 2650. Technically this is a scene of Washington and Canada.

Cheers,

Jonathan

Visual update pt. 3

2500 miles down, 163 left to go. SO CLOSE. 

With less than 200 miles left until we reach the Canadian border, I can almost taste the finish. We have wandered so far in this journey, but never wavered. It's crazy to think that in two weeks I'll be back in the Midwest. The trail has become normal life at this point. The finish doesn't simply mean the end of this trail, though. It also means parting ways with some incredible friends and a way of life I have enjoyed to the fullest. I don't think I ever could have guessed how much of an impression this experience would have on me. 

I could ramble forever about what 2500 miles means. Instead, I'll leave you with a few photos of some beautiful hiker trash and the knowledge that we'll be done within a week. 

Butters

Butters

Ms. Frizzle

Ms. Frizzle

Soap Box

Soap Box

Pedi

Pedi

Cheers,

Jonathan

New states, new crews

Dan (Soap Box) and I have not only made it to the final state of our journey, we now find ourselves in a new crew. Smokes, Schmitty and Quinoa have all ebbed and flowed in and out, but Ms. Frizzle and Butters seem to be permanent members at this point. They're fantastic people and I couldn't be happier to have them around.

Our first crew lasted for a solid 900 miles, and it wasn't until afterward that I even realized what an anomaly that was. Most hikers start the trail solo and, while they often hike with others, most don't crew up for such long stretches. Usually people's schedules or hiking speeds are too different. Or somebody gets sick or injured. Regardless, I'm thankful to have made such great friends as I have on this adventure.  

Now then, let's get back to finishing up Washington.  

Soap Box, Butters and Ms. Frizzle. Oh yeah, and Mt. Adams. 

Soap Box, Butters and Ms. Frizzle. Oh yeah, and Mt. Adams. 

Soap Box and Frizzle deftly speed down a hill as we head for town. 

Soap Box and Frizzle deftly speed down a hill as we head for town. 

Ms. Frizzle and the most giant cairn ever. 

Ms. Frizzle and the most giant cairn ever. 

Beautiful hiker trash. 

Beautiful hiker trash. 

Slightly less beardy, but equally as beautiful hiker trash. 

Slightly less beardy, but equally as beautiful hiker trash. 

NINJA RUNNING!

NINJA RUNNING!

True hiker trash. Butters brushing his teeth while hiking. 

True hiker trash. Butters brushing his teeth while hiking. 

Haha, hiker crossing. Somebody added the poles and pack with tape. Oh, and the sign has hella bullet holes in it. 

Haha, hiker crossing. Somebody added the poles and pack with tape. Oh, and the sign has hella bullet holes in it. 

Butters and Frizzle stomping and clomping through a Washington meadow in the morning. 

Butters and Frizzle stomping and clomping through a Washington meadow in the morning. 

Sexy butters in morning light. 

Sexy butters in morning light. 

A troll, er, Frizzle under a bridge.  

A troll, er, Frizzle under a bridge.  

Cheers,

Jonathan

This thing we're doing

On this particular day, Dan and I happened to be hiking alone, finding ourselves - however briefly - without a crew. We came upon a saddle with one helluva view. As will sometimes happen on the PCT, we felt morally compelled to stop and observe the scene in front of us. It was too magnificent to pass up. 

As Dan and I sat on that saddle observing the wondrous nature that lay before us, I felt a great sense of calm and contentment come over me. 

"I'm not exactly sure what this thing is that we're doing, and I'm definitely not sure what will come next in life," I said, turning to Dan. "What I am sure of, though, is that this, this thing we're doing is the right thing to be doing."

He smiled, knowing exactly what I meant. 

"Yeah man, yeah," Dan responded, giving a bit of a chuckle.

Nowadays, I feel that same sense of calm and happiness pretty often. Whenever I do I turn to Dan with a big stupid grin on my face and say, "Man, this thing we're doing."

Hiking the PCT has been and will continue to be one of the greatest adventures of which I could possibly conceive. I am constantly in awe of how fun it has been to incorporate so many things I love into my everyday life for the last four months.

-Jonathan

Scenes of and thoughts on Oregon

Wow, just wow. Oregon blew me away. Getting through California was such a feat that I felt really fresh as we got going in Oregon. I have heard it referred to as Boregon in reference to a hiker's experience as one travels the PCT. Sure, we all have our own experiences, but for me Oregon was superb, maybe even my favorite section to date. 

There were certainly a considerable number of dense forests, but I never minded these. They helped shade you from the sun. The weather was impeccable anyways, save for one day of storms, and that was actually pretty fun. Sometimes when I would think about this blog post I would laugh because there are no scenes of Oregon. Only forests. I jest, but we really did spend a lot of time walking in the woods. The times we weren't in the woods we found ourselves in quite diverse landscapes. From Crater Lake to lava rock fields to the Sisters Wilderness, Oregon truly has much to offer. 

Even beyond the actual wilderness, the Beaver State's culture sets it apart. While the whole west coast is seen as liberal, Oregon and California do not seem to be the same type of liberal. For starters, there are tons more hippies here. More than any of that though, California seems to talk a good talk, but Oregon really lives it. California likes to seem environmentally friendly, but Oregon truly is. There's no front to it. I have seen solar panels everywhere, and I mean everywhere. Environmental consciousness in Oregon feels natural and engrained into everyday life more than any other place I've experienced in the States. I understand that I have limited experiences in both states and I am no expert. Equally, I'm not trying to trash California nor make Oregon out to be the Holy Land, but Oregon was magical.

But I digress; on to the landscape photos.

Thunderstorm at sunset. 

Thunderstorm at sunset. 

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Crater Lake

Crater Lake

More Crater Lake

More Crater Lake

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South Sister

South Sister

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Jeff Creek

Jeff Creek

Mt. Hood

Mt. Hood

Mt. Jefferson from the North

Mt. Jefferson from the North

Oregon fog

Oregon fog

Tunnel Falls

Tunnel Falls

Burn section over a ridge. 

Burn section over a ridge. 

Mt. Jefferson

Mt. Jefferson

Cheers,

Jonathan

The first one didn't count

I guess one double-marathon simply was not enough.

Fence and I had been waiting around for two days. We mostly slept and ate. That is, until we realized how much food we were plowing through.

Fence lounging while we wait for Dan. 

Fence lounging while we wait for Dan. 

Then, finally, Dan showed up with Cheese, Baggins and Choop in tow. I had only hiked 37 miles in three days, which made me itch to do something stupid, something big. Now that I knew Dan was safe and caught up, I somehow had the desire to go and just keep going. We were at mile 1453.

Sunset with the bros before heading off into the night. 

Sunset with the bros before heading off into the night. 

I left camp at 7 p.m. and walked all through the night, which can be a tricky thing when there is no moon and you are in dense forest. Still, I found a rhythm and was able to get by without kicking too many rocks and roots. By 4 A.M. I had reached McCloud River, mile 1476. After putting my pack down I cleaned my feet off, ate a snack and got a bit of rest. By rest I mean I leaned against my pack in the dirt at the end of the bridge for an hour.

Having rested a single hour, I got back up and kept hiking, but this time in a state of delirium. I met a new hiker, Free Refill, shortly after getting back on my feet. What a cool guy. He's a middle aged German engineer with one helluva sense of humor. This fact, however, I would not learn until a bit later. Free Refill was just warming up for the morning, and I needed to get my blood flowing so I didn't pass out on the trail. I pressed on at an unusually quick pace for that time of the morning.

Completely random note I saw that afternoon.

Completely random note I saw that afternoon.

At certain points I could feel the proverbial wheels start to come off, but I hung in there. With enough caffeine, food, Ibuprofen and water you can do just about anything. Willpower doesn't hurt either. The miles kept rolling by. I saw a few other hiker friends, but mostly I kept my pace steady and powered on. The goal was Interstate-5 where I could hitch into town. By 2 P.M. or so I had reached mile 1500. WOOHOO! I still like the feeling of passing each hundred mile mark written in stones in the dirt.

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By 4 P.M. I had finally reached my mark, mile 1507. After 21 hours my 54 miles were complete. 54 miles! That included 12,000 feet of climbing and and 18,000 feet of down. I felt accomplished. Also, I felt wrecked. My body had nothing left. Trail magic always makes everything better though.  A couple and their daughter showed up with fresh watermelon, giant muffins and freshly baked cookies that were still warm. It felt like a pretty good reward for my day's trek.

About an hour and a half later Free Refill showed up. I had not yet moved from the spot where I stopped walking. He asked about my day and so I told him of my my distance record.

"Yeah, but you didn't do it in one day," he said.

"Maybe not in one calendar day, but I did it in 24 hours," I retorted.

"So, it still wasn't in one day."

God dammit.

This day was not Free Refill-approved.

----

Two weeks later, having passed Ashland, OR (and all of its magic), I was hiking with Ms. Frizzle, a bad-ass with an equally insatiable desire for doing stupid stuff as I do. Now that we were in the flattest section of the trail, we felt like we could do anything. Having told the tale of my first 50+ day, Ms. Frizzle wanted get on the bandwagon. Let's be real here, it's not like I was ever going to turn down another opportunity to do a crazy big day with another cool hiker.

And so on the 107th day of our journey on this Pacific Crest Trail, Frizzle and I awoke at 4:30 to embark on a double marathon. Mostly, the day went off without much incident. Frizzle likes to hike hard, which means that if you manage to hike in step with her the miles start to fly by. By mid-afternoon we hit some pretty crazy lava fields, but the actual trail through said lava rock was like a magic carpet, smooth as can be.

Frizzle and lava rock fields. 

Frizzle and lava rock fields. 

Sometime between 4 and 5 P.M. we heard cars. A road! We were 32 miles deep and while I didn't feel bad, it had already been a sizable day.
"Pray for magic, pray for magic, pray for magic," I muttered to Frizzle.

Awaiting us at the other side of the road were a couple of tail angels doling out tons of food to a group of hiker trash. There were grilled cheese sandwiches, beers, orange juice, coffee, ibuprofen, fruit snacks and more. I can scarcely think of anything that would have made that moment better than the grilled cheese sandwich brought to me upon reaching the other side of that highway. Oh, did I mention chairs? It turns out that chairs are, in fact, a pretty sweet invention.

Glorious trail magic

Glorious trail magic

We spent 45 minutes hanging with our fellow hiker trash and the generous angels who were passing out magic galore before Frizzle and I nodded to one another that we needed to get back out on the trail.  We still had 20 miles to go, after all.

Things really started getting rough as the sun went down. The batteries in my headlamp had worn down to the point of making the light barely useful. My body was already fairly depleted of all resources and the almost-constant tripping did not help the situation. I doubled-up on lights, adding my iPhone's LED as a secondary. We pushed on into the night. And pushed. And pushed.

The last few of those 52.4 miles felt eerily similar to the last few of the first time I ran 26.2 miles. Everything hurt. The voice in my head kept saying "Please, just let this be over with." I conjured what willpower I had and forced myself to keep putting one foot in front of the other until, at 11:10 P.M. Frizzle and I had reached our double-marathon mark.

A few days later Frizzle and I met back up with Free Refill and told him our tale.

"This time I did it in one day," I exclaimed.

"OK, now you can tell people it was approved by a German engineer."

Frizzle waking up the next morning to an early sun. 

Frizzle waking up the next morning to an early sun. 

Cheers, 

Jonathan

What fuels a hiker

We eat a lot. Like a lot, a lot. Like 5000 calories per day, a lot. This means as much of as many different kinds of food as possible. 

For dinner, though, we usually eat hiker slop. It was great in the beginning. Now I can hardly stand the stuff. 

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Hiker slop

1 package Idahoans (doesn't matter what flavor)

1 or 2 packages ramen (doesn't matter what flavor)

Big handful of cheese (generally shredded)

A few tablespoons of olive oil

Packet of tuna

Mix it all in a gallon ziplock bag, add three cups boiling and chow down. 

Hooray for calories!

Cheers, 

Jonathan

The Magic of Ashland

This is the kind of post that might start with something cliché like "Sometimes you find the adventure and sometimes the adventure finds you." Or maybe even "This is why you don't make plans."

The last day of California Jonathan gently convinced Dan to hike a 52 mile challenge into Ashland. While it might have been best to get up and going by 3:30am we got out of "camp" about two hours later than that. We were not exactly fresh - we literally slept on the trail, and we only slept there for about six hours after a night hike which included a 5000ft climb out of Seiad Valley. 

Once we got going we put big miles behind us. We still weren't making outstanding time, but it could be done. After a quick lunch at the Oregon border we trudged back out into what had become a sweltering hot day. By 8:30 p.m. we had hit the 40 mile mark. Jonathan wandered up a ridge to see the sunset. It looked as glorious as ever with {blah blah flowery language about pretty colors}. As Dan followed we heard some voices and saw a fire. "Do you guys want a beer?" they said to us. Of course we do! They were amazing people. There were six of them, a little boy and a dog. They gave us beer and smoked salmon. Dat smoked salmon doe.  On top of being generous, they were extraordinarily cool people to hang out with for an evening. At first we felt bad, since it was sort of a going away gathering for one of the guys, but they insisted that they had all secretly been wanting to magic stuff to PCT hikers but hadn't gotten a chance. Now they had one. At 10pm we were talking about hiking out and sleeping by the highway. A few hours past, and by midnight we knew we weren't hiking any farther. These gregarious people from Ashland truly gave us the best welcome into Oregon that we could have asked for. 

Good company and a campfire are a great start to an evening. Especially when they're unexpected. 

Good company and a campfire are a great start to an evening. Especially when they're unexpected. 

Things were off to a good start. We finished out the last 12 miles early the next morning to make it into Callahan's Lodge. 

While crossing an outer road to I-5 a big white van pulled over to the side of the road. After honking and rolling down the window the driver yelled over to us "Beerman!" Dan turned, his eyes lit up and he shouted "I'm getting in the car with those strangers!" as he raced off to the van. Jonathan could do nothing but sit and stare confused as his hiking partner rushed off to a car of strange people. These "strangers" turned out to be a mentor of Dan's from college and Alpha Phi Omega (community service org) and his wife. The amount of chance involved for this meeting is astounding - we're talking alignment of the planets. They had planned on meeting Dan, but had to return to Ashland, Missouri. They left a note at the trailhead and were on the on-ramp to drive when our paths crossed. The couple (Paul and Charlotte) drove us into Ashland and bought us beers. After Paul and Dan spent some time catching up and marveling at the serendipity of our encounter the couple bid us farewell. They headed back toward Missouri while Dan and Jonathan ventured out into the metropolis of Ashland (pop. 20,000).

One delicious Indian buffet later, we knew that finding lodging needed to be at the top of our priority list. We were in a gear shop checking out a trail register when we came across names and numbers of some trail angels. Dan made a call, while Jonathan looked on with puzzled eyes. It seemed like the call went well, but all Dan said was that the guy was going to call us back. A few minutes later Dan received a call. It drags on a while. Somewhere along the way he looked up, smiled and gave a thumbs up. Now we had a place to stay for the night. 

For the record, this formula is not a foreign experience for us. In college we moved after two years in a piece of shit house to an apartment. That apartment would have never happened without Dan's research and effort. Jonathan put forth enough effort to say thanks that Dan found us a place to live and to sign the lease. 

It turns out that this trail angel is a former thru-hiker and angels for current hikers. He said we could stay at his place. Awesome! But wait, he's not even in town. His son may be around he said. The front door is unlocked, though, because of course it is. He asks that we keep things LNT (leave no trace) and clean up after ourselves, maybe grab some laundry detergent. Not a problem. We wouldn't dream of being anything but the most respectful guests - laundry, air conditioning, a safe place to leave the packs while we walk around town, a base camp. Seriously, when people show you the sort of kindness we have been shown you do everything you can to pay it forward and not take it for granted. 

A good nights sleep, laundry and a shower later we felt like this adventure could not get any better. 

A little friend that came to hang out on the porch as we sipped on morning coffee. 

A little friend that came to hang out on the porch as we sipped on morning coffee. 

Not only are beds pretty cool every once in a while, but being in an actual home felt comforting, even if we didn't really know this home's owner. By day three of this story Jonathan found himself lounging on the couch and writing a blog much like this very one. All of a sudden, in walks this late 20 something man that is super fit. Jonathan looks up as the young man says "Um, hi. You must be a hiker from the trail." It's said more like a question than anything. 

"And you must be  the son of (trailname of dude whose house we're in)," Jonathan said, equally as unsure of his own statement. 

"Yeah," says the young man. "I run a fitness apparel company and I'm just here to grab this bag. You guys have a great hike and enjoy Ashland."

As fast as he was in the house he was once again out of it. Not only did he seem a nice fellow, but he seemed totally unphased by walking into his father's house to find hikers and all their gear sprawled across the living room. 

At this point it is unclear if the levels of awesome and strange will continue to escalate at consistent intervals, but it seems possible. As it stands they are at an all time high. We are loving Oregon. 

Needless to say, all you trail angels out there, everything you do for hikers and to maintain the ethos of trail culture is inspiring. Your actions demonstrate a humanity and consideration I want to carry into my own life.

Keep adventuring,

Dan and Jonathan

Scenes of Northern California pt. 2

If a PCT hiker were to say that NorCal is boring, I don't think they would be entirely wrong. Conversely, if they were to say there is nothing cool about NorCal, I would say they are grossly mistaken. This section of the trail introduces far more forests than any heretofore, and they are more dense. On one hand, it means shade from the harsh summer sun. On the other hand it means fewer grand, scenic views. Despite this, the past 600 miles have afforded us some sweet views. Chief among them might be Mt. Shasta, which, even at the Oregon border, is still visible and has been since somewhere around mile 1300. It sits so tall off in the distance, dwarfing absolutey everything around it for hundreds of miles. 

This has certainly been the most odd section so far. There was never really a routine, and things were always getting shaken up. Our crew was in constant flux and even Dan and I ended up separated for chunks of the section. This post, however, is about the visuals through the State of Jefferson. The personal stories are yet to come. 

Mile 1425 - Burney Falls

Mile 1425 - Burney Falls

Mile 1361

Mile 1361

Mile 1371 - night hiking on Hat Creek Rim

Mile 1371 - night hiking on Hat Creek Rim

Mile 1496 -  Mt. Shasta

Mile 1496 -  Mt. Shasta

Mile 1580

Mile 1580

Mile 1541 - Mt. Shasta from the north

Mile 1541 - Mt. Shasta from the north

Mile 1635 - Paradise Lake

Mile 1635 - Paradise Lake

Mile 1547

Mile 1547

Mile 1574

Mile 1574

Mile 1523 - Castle Crags

Mile 1523 - Castle Crags

Cheers,

Jonathan

I saw (all of) the sign(s)

It opened up my eyes I saw the sign. 

90s Swedish pop bands aside, there are more signs on the PCT in Northern California than any other place I've seen so far. They're everywhere. One might even go so far as to say there are signs on signs on signs.  This is by no means to say they are good signs, but simply that they exist. In fact, they're some of the most janky signs I've come across. Even their helpfulness is hit and miss. Nonetheless, the amusement they bring is abundant. 

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Really guys? C'mon, we can do better than this. Just build a freaking cairn. 

Really guys? C'mon, we can do better than this. Just build a freaking cairn. 

Cool arrow, dude. 

Cool arrow, dude. 

OMG it's an actual PCT crest, albeit with PCT spray-paint behind it. Notice how the  crest isn't riddled with bullets. This one must be new. 

OMG it's an actual PCT crest, albeit with PCT spray-paint behind it. Notice how the  crest isn't riddled with bullets. This one must be new. 

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This one was my favorite. 

This one was my favorite. 

Cheers,

Jonathan

Scenes of Northern California pt. 1

NorCal is freaking hot. We again resumed the tactic of hiking out early, taking a really long lunch break during the heat of the day, and then hiking late into the evening. In the Sierra you couldn't pay me to get out of my sleeping bag before 7am due to cold. Now the sun comes up so incredibly early and almost immediately gets hot that I have to intentionally sleep in to stay in my bag past 7am. 

One great thing about this section is the mix of moderate to mild terrain, strong legs and long days. Doing 25+ mile days isn't even a big deal anymore, and I love it. 

Watching sunsets (and sunrises) in Northern California is a thing of wonder. I delight in seeing the sun's golden hour glow bathe the forested hills in the first and last light of the day. 

The clouds are magical. They remind me of clouds in Texas. Beautiful puffy looking ones perfectly scattered across the sky. 

Trees here are covered in this neon green mossy stuff that I find incredibly comical. In fact, foliage and plant life in general has increased exponentially. 

Not pictured: bugs. All of the bugs. Flies, Mosquitos, spiders ants and tons of others I can't begin to identify. 

Mile 1210

Mile 1210

Mile 1133

Mile 1133

Mile 1106

Mile 1106

Mile 1129

Mile 1129

Mile 1102

Mile 1102

Mile 1203

Mile 1203

Mile 1312

Mile 1312

Mile 1372

Mile 1372

Mile 1250 - Middle Fork Feather River

Mile 1250 - Middle Fork Feather River

Mile 1259

Mile 1259

Mile 1248

Mile 1248

Mile 1327

Mile 1327

Mile 1165

Mile 1165

 Mile 1178

 Mile 1178

Mile 1174

Mile 1174

Cheers,

Jonathan

Zero days as experienced by Quinoa

 

Our Belgian bro embodies what a zero day should look like. 

Repair our gear

Relax our bodies

Rehab our ailing feet

Repack our bags with more food

 

 

New solar charger rig in Idyllwild. 

New solar charger rig in Idyllwild. 

Quinoa is the master of sleeping in. 

Quinoa is the master of sleeping in. 

Coffee at diners is key. 

Coffee at diners is key. 

Homemade disc golf courses could be a bust, but Tom's in Kennedy Meadows was a surprise and a delight. 

Homemade disc golf courses could be a bust, but Tom's in Kennedy Meadows was a surprise and a delight. 

Really though, Quinoa is the king at relaxing anywhere. 

Really though, Quinoa is the king at relaxing anywhere. 

Cheers,

Jonathan