The Bet, concluded

How?! How is this possible? How do you make one roll of toilet paper last for a little over 900 miles? I don't think of myself as a gambling man, and thus I found the prospect of Dan accomplishing this feat preposterous, absolutely ludicrous. I had this in the bag. Then the miles past, but the size of the toilet paper roll barely seemed to shrink. Eventually, I realized that Oregon was fast approaching, and Dan hadn't run out of TP yet. It is now to my dismay that I must announce my concession in the bet over the Roll of Toilet Paper that Could. This is truly an impressive achievement. Many a hiker has listened wide-eyed as Soap Box explains the meaning of this roll. In the end, he only had three measles squares left. Now let's all continue walking through the woods as the number of miles left until Canada wain to under 1000. 

-Jonathan

---

Perseverance. Perseverance, a steady hand and restraint are the skills required to make a roll of toilet paper last over 900 miles. Long days and many calories, stretches of no towns or pit stops, even a nasty bout of GI and still the roll turns. I'm not saying the PCT isn't impressive, but limiting toilet paper doesn't make the hiking easier. The bet has come to a close and I will gracefully accept my prize. 

I'm not sure I'm even happy I won this bet... Or at least I won't be until I taste a few beers. Also, if anyone won any sizable side bets feel free to share the wealth.

-Dan

Scenes of the Sierra pt. 2

Alas, the Sierra have come to an end. I enjoyed the totality of them so very much. The second half of the Sierra was not quite as daunting as the first half, but it still posed it's challenges. More than anything though, I continued to gawk at the beauty of the landscape surrounding us. Less snow, more forest, more meadows and, unfortunately, more bugs. The advent of mosquitos on the trail sucked, but we tried to not let it ruin the beauty that surrounded us. The lush meadows and increase in greenery keeps you grinning all day. It's all quite humbling really. 

Cheers,

Jonathan

Yosemite the majestic

Yosemite. Oh Yosemite. You have shown me things I could previously hardly have comprehended to be real.

Walking into Yosemite was nice. An easy meadow lead to a little store with a burger. A juicy, savory burger can brighten any hiker's day. Our crew had decided to finish out the last leg of the John Muir Trail, which consisted of an extra 22 miles down to Yosemite Valley, a place famous for its beauty. On our way down we decided to stop and take another detour to climb Half Dome. 

Few experiences in my life have compared to the adventure that was climbing Half Dome. For starters, it's hard enough to be a good workout but short enough that, as a thru-hiker, it wasn't exactly exhausting. 

About 200 yards before the peak you encounter these cables at waist height going up the rest of the peak. You have to pull yourself up what I would guess was a 70 degree incline the rest of the way. Not recommended for those with a fear of heights, but I had a blast. 

As we reached the top, my jaw dropped. The splendor we witnessed on that giant granite peak was mind blowing. The high Sierra had been gargantuan and and awesome. Yosemite, however, was majestic. Golden hour is like this whole new thing from up there. To top it off, there were a couple a climbers on the peak's face a mere 50 ft from the top. To say that I was impressed would be an understatement.

As we descended Half Dome and then further into Yosemite Valley the next morning the awe had not worn off. I hope it never does. 

The meadow entering Yosemite. 

Lembert Dome, the first of the granite rock formations viewable upon entering Yosemite. 

The newest member of our bubble, Choop. 

Ascending Half Dome and realizing how beautiful our surroundings are. 

Our first view of the cables leading to the top if Half Dome. This moment instilled the most fear in me. 

Choop is ready to do this. 

Oh. My. God. 

Climbers nearing the top. 

Looking north from Half Dome.

Our last glimpse of Half Dome descending into the valley. 

Vernal Falls (I think) a mere mile or two before the valley. 

Beautiful streams on the way out of Yosemite.

Cheers,

Jonathan

Photos of us hiking

We hike a lot. All day, every day. 20 miles per day. It's both exhilarating and awfully monotonous. 

The sun sets over the Mojave Desert as we prepare for a night hike. 

Beautiful alpine forests are my favorite!

Epic stream crossings in the Sierra. Dan did this one barefoot. 

Our Belgian got all thugged out for Mt. Whitney. 

Bearing the heat of the desert. 

Walking along the L.A. aqueduct. 

Vasquez Rocks. Half'n'Half was all smiles walking through this place. 

I love when logs are laid out over stream crossings. 

And then there was this staircase on the PCT. The John Muir Trail section gets fancy. 

The approach to Forrester Pass. Dan (Soap Box) makes it look epic. It kinda was. 

Cheers,

Jonathan

The Bet

To some of you who live in civilization, this may seem a bit uncouth. To us hikers, there really isn't such a thing. 

Back in Bishop Quinoa bought a pack of toilet paper and generously gave a roll each to Dan and I. Dan turns to me and says, "Hey, I've got an idea. I bet you I can make this roll last me until Oregon."

Ha. HA! Oregon? We got back on the trail right before mile 800. California ends just before mile 1700. That's 900 miles on a single roll of toilet paper. Lunacy I tell you. 

"The loser has to buy a case of beer for the group." Dan adds. 

"You're on." I replied without hesitation. 

Who doesn't love free beer?

The Rules

He is allowed to use other toilet paper when we are in towns/taking a zero. 

He is not allowed to borrow from other hikers on trail. 

He is allowed to use alternative methods such as pine cones and moss to wipe. (Let's be real, if he manages to extend that TP through the use of "natural alternatives," he's earned it)

Ohhhhhh, the things we do to entertain ourselves on trail. 

Cheers, 

Jonathan

Scenes of the Sierra Nevada

I occasionally think of myself as a competent photographer. While landscapes and haven't always been my thing, it's hard to walk through these scenes and not try to capture or document them. I thought it had been going OK, but when we got to the high Sierra, something happened. I found myself wholly incapable of capturing the world around me in any decent sense. This is not to say that I'm rehearsing a sense of self-deprecation on a blog, but rather to say that the scenery here is so amazingly grand I'm at a loss. The photos that had previously looked as if they accurately and somewhat eloquently represented the views I encountered now appeared dull when compared to what lie before me. 

The world that exists here is like none I've ever experienced. Not even close. In a word, it is rewarding. The nights are bitter cold and the sun beats down in the day. The altitude makes your lungs burn and your heart pound. But everywhere you look there are towering mountains, endless streams, waterfalls, lakes, valleys and forests. Each element is so immersive, so extraordinary. The Sierra really makes you work for it, but holy crap is the payoff sweet. 

I hope this gives you an inkling of the feeling it gives me to be in its presence. 

Mile 788

Mile 850

Mile 821

Mile 819

Mile 841

Mile 848

Mile 789

Mile 838. Sunset from Muir Pass

 Mile 818. Lower Pallisades Lake

Mile 867. Northern view from Selden Pass

Mile 804

Cheers,

Jonathan

Ascending Mt. Whitney

The desert has come to an end. As we hiked our way up into the Sierra Nevada our jaws dropped at the beauty we saw around us. We haven't managed to pick our jaws back up yet. 60 miles later we found ourselves at the trail juncture that would lead us up to the top of the tallest peak in the lower 48 states, Mt. Whitney. At 14,505 feet, it's a doozy. There are an endless number of ways to "do Whitney," and we thought it would be cool to ascend in the afternoon to see the sunset, sleep in the Smithsonian shelter at the summit overnight, watch the sunrise and then descend that morning. 

Sleep didn't come too easily, but what do you expect at 14,000 feet sleeping head to toe in a small hut? No worries though, we kind of expected that. It was worth it. 

The morning was bitter cold and windy, but nothing could dampen our spirits as the sun began to rise over the eastern Sierra. 

Then our friends started showing up. One by one, Bomber, Siesta, Butters, Cheese, Midway, Barbie, Freedom, Friendrik, Washpot and Baggins reached the summit, each of them having started in the wee hours of the morning. We all crammed ourselves back into the hut to celebrate the reunion. Soon enough, however, it was time for us to head back down the mountain. 

The views were awe inspiring, completely breathtaking. Or was that the lack of oxygen that was breathtaking? Who knows. It was astounding. But enough of my jibber jabber. Why don't I show you. 

The valley below. 

West of Whitney. 

Half'n'Half pushes through the struggle of breathing at high altitude. 

Soap Box being epic most of the way up. 

The teeth near the summit. 

WE MADE IT. 

Obligatory group photo on the summit. 

Sunset did not disappoint.  

What strange things are amok outside the shelter? I think it best to stay warm in the hut. 

Soap Box, Half'n'Half and Pedi (me) bundled in our bags at dawn. 

Photo/Quinoa

Cheese feeling victorious. 

Cheers, 

Jonathan