PCT

The Strange Folk Festival: Soapbox has pictures at Cranky Yellow!

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Hey folks. We're still alive and kicking. Short update first: Pedi and I have relocated to Colorado and are living in Boulder and Golden, respectively. The PCT had/has a profound effect on both of us. More on that later. 

Currently, Soapbox has submitted photo prints to Cranky Yellow in St. Louis for the Strange Folk Festival at Union Station. The Strange Folk Fest is located in Union Station mall in St. Louis. It's a festival of makers - some 200 next-wave small businesses and vendors: crafters, artists, designers and vintage curators. If you are able, stop by Cranky Yellow and see some cool art. 


The passes - Pinchot and Mather

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This posts takes us back to the High Sierra when we carried solar panels, extra clothes, and bear cans. Refer back to the previous two posts about both Forester and Glen passes - climbing them took time and required some logistical coordination. Surely climbing two in a day wouldn't be a great idea...

We had put ourselves in a tough spot, we hiked out from Kearsarge with 6 days of food hoping we would be okay hiking through the Sierra, we had a deadline. To get to the next food resupply we needed to hike both Pinchot and Mather in the same day and we thought we could do it.

The two passes were only 5 miles apart, both were over 12000 feet. Pinchot was straightforward, we camped in its shadow so the approach would be easy: hike a short distance and climb 2000 feet as soon as we woke up. I woke up late - around 7:30 or so, and was hiking alone. The climb was steady, but snow fields covered the trail most of the way. It was easy to get lost with the pass not yet in view.

I lost the trail several times, but once I could see where the pass was I just hiked straight for the it. Closing in on the final climb I stopped in the snow field. When I looked around and saw Quinoa and Pedi making their way in the snow behind me. Somehow I had gotten ahead of them by climbing over a rise in the snow pack while they followed the trail around the rise. I laughed because I was ahead now and because I was having the time of my life in the most beautiful, rugged landscape I'd ever been in. The pass was in sight and Half and half was ahead. It was time to get to the top. Looking forward, I saw the trail in the distance and plenty of foot prints in the snow to guide me.

I was third to gain the pass and the view was incredible. All four of us had made it and we ate a late breakfast together. Next we set our sights on Mather. The descent from Pinchot was easy - the trail was mostly uncovered and the north side of the pass was fantastic to look at.

Mather was a more gradual climb over 6 miles, but took longer than two hours. On the way up we encountered a ranger! She was headed the opposite direction and just asked for our names, but it was an incredible encounter to me. She was clean and carrying a huge pack and a shovel. She wished us luck and took down our names and let us go. I couldn't help but admire how clean she looked next to us, with our worn out shirts, shorts and tiny backpacks. She was hiking out to her summer appointment, most likely.

We made it to the final climb quickly - a couple stream crossings and walking on some snow, we crunched across hoping to avoid postholing as we went. It had looked easy from distance, but was not. The first part of the climb was fun compared to the other passes. The switchbacks were steep. I was able to look around and really observe the scenery. Mather had a gradual approach with a big lake at its base and the trail snaked around to the east. As we began the climb up switchbacks we entered the shade of the afternoon sun and we were totally exposed. After just a short way up I looked back to see what where we had come from.  I took in that moment in the mountains.

The High Sierras are really like no place I've ever been. Snow covered and treacherous, they command respect. From the high places we could see vast expanses of white and grey teeth jutting upwards. We got to sample some the forces that helped shape the landscape as the cold wind whipped. I felt my own smallness and was struck by my insignificance relative to the giants I crawled upon. In that moment, on the side of a mountain pass, I was humbled by the enormity and majesty of the raw expanses which I was granted passage over. My moment of romance passed quickly, though - I had more altitude to gain and then we had to get down safely.

Loose talus (gravelly rock) and snow covered, the trail on the last few switchbacks was a littler nerve racking, and the mountainside was a deceiving 60 - 70 degree incline so no one fancied slipping. At one point I was clambering on softened snow and ice and slipped, feeling a shock from my feet, up my spine and in my neck - the image of me with my heavy pack (bear can included) sliding and falling down a mountain flashed in my mind. Immediately, I punched my fist into the snow on my left side and stabbed my trek pole hard on the right. No harm. Just sweating like crazy and that image not fading quickly enough. The snow had been in the sun all morning, after all, we couldn't rely on it to carry our weight as we gained altitude in the hundreds of feet.

The rest of the climb I finished carefully and was really happy to see the final switchback was mostly cleared of snow. The down climb was going to be rough - it was late in the day and the snow was soft and the first part of the descent was completely covered with thick snowpack and a few jutting rock points.

Pedi and Half and Half chose a different route than Quinoa and I. All of us postholed over and over again. I was soaked from falling in the soft snow, sweaty and exhausted by the slow, slipping down climb - fearing with each step I would sink into the snow, into some unseen pointed rock. Oh, and I was concerned the other two wouldn't find a safe way down and that I'd hear a yell from higher up on the pass as the sun began to set. The north side of Mather Pass was steep and had some shear cliffs and the trail probably navigated them well, but we had no idea where the trail was underneath the layer of thick snow.

Finally I made it to a boulder field and could hop from rock to rock downwards. Quickly I descended and found the trail - until that point I was just searching for a route in soft snow that led safely downward. Even though the trail was acting as a channel for ice-melt, I walked the cold water, completely soaked, but happy to take a full step again with confidence. To make progress. After what seemed like hours, I was anxious to find the others and to find a spot to camp. 

After a few minutes of trudging in the water I saw Pedi and Half and Half! And they were ahead of me! Quinoa had postholed a lot and fell once or twice, but scrambled down quickly as well - I had a sense he was not far behind me the entire time as I could hear him cursing when he postholed (I'm sure he could here me, too. I'm not Soapbox because I'm the quiet one). Finally we could hike down and find a spot to sleep without slipping. We were exhausted.

With the four of us reunited and the trail immediately in front of us we hiked as fast as we could to find a place to camp for the night. As a reward for our double pass day we hiked to Palisade Lakes just as the sun set. Beautiful end to a day, but the Sierras had taken quite a toll on us.

Cheers and thanks for reading,

Dan (aka Soapbox)

 

View all the snow fields we crossed that morning from the top of Pinchot

View all the snow fields we crossed that morning from the top of Pinchot

Quinoa encountering a ranger.

Quinoa encountering a ranger.

Nature.

Nature.

the snowy, icy slopes of the south side of Mather Pass. Almost fell here... 

the snowy, icy slopes of the south side of Mather Pass. Almost fell here... 

Jonathan standing at the top of Mather.

Jonathan standing at the top of Mather.

View of Palisades Lake and the north face of Mather Pass.

View of Palisades Lake and the north face of Mather Pass.

Sunset at the outlet of Palisades Lake, we were still searching for a camping spot.

Sunset at the outlet of Palisades Lake, we were still searching for a camping spot.

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Trail life in Washington

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Washington was a pretty crazy place. While our saga of being sick wasn't exactly the greatest, we had some phenomenal times walking through the final state of the PCT. As always, the people we hiked with were some of our favorite highlights. We had such great times on trail.

You eat that lunch Butters. You eat it good.

You eat that lunch Butters. You eat it good.

Smitty traversing a snowfield in Goat Rocks.

Smitty traversing a snowfield in Goat Rocks.

Dan decided to hang up his tent to let it dry while he ate breakfast. Who does that?

Dan decided to hang up his tent to let it dry while he ate breakfast. Who does that?

Butters at the hotel in Snoqualmie.

Butters at the hotel in Snoqualmie.

Dan (with Winston) Hiking out of Snoqualmie Pass.

Dan (with Winston) Hiking out of Snoqualmie Pass.

Butters at the Dinsmore's Hiker Haven in Skykomish.

Butters at the Dinsmore's Hiker Haven in Skykomish.

traversing the "impassable" trail with Trip, Mongo and co.

traversing the "impassable" trail with Trip, Mongo and co.

Impassable? Ya, we don't think so. Trip, Dan, Mongo and Frizzle.

Impassable? Ya, we don't think so. Trip, Dan, Mongo and Frizzle.

Loved the way the light hit this bridge.

Loved the way the light hit this bridge.

DANG, this bridge is hella messed up.

DANG, this bridge is hella messed up.

Dan was a cat on the monument at the Canadian border.

Dan was a cat on the monument at the Canadian border.

Border to border, baby.

Border to border, baby.

Dan had to pull the harmonica out and play a quick song for Canada.

Dan had to pull the harmonica out and play a quick song for Canada.

Cheers,

Jonathan

Fun with time-lapses

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Knowing I might undergo some radical physical changes while on the PCT, I sought to document this transformation. You see, in the “real world," I love fashion and like being "that weird looking guy." To find me in colored skinny jeans, with makeup and oddly colored hair is not uncommon. On the trail, however, I put all my pampering and primping aside. I wanted to do this without the costume and style of my regular life. And so I left my eyeliner and hair dye at home. For the first time in my entire life I even let my facial hair grow, which turned out to be the saddest of sights. It should be noted that I didn't trim my facial hair at all, I simply don't grow any. Definitely not going to be winning a moustache growing contest anytime soon.

At one point I met some section hikers completely in awe of the thru-hikers they passed, who told me that we all looked either homeless or sporty. I kind of hoped I was some mix of the two, to be honest. While most men on trail looked more and more like Paul-freakin’-Bunyan each day, my hiking companion among them, I maintained this odd sort of boy band / homeless look.

The guy who left as Jonathan was not the same person who returned as Pedi. The transformation goes far beyond the visual, but even still, the visual changes are staggering. I photographed these changes with a selfie-a-day project, which I present to you now. From newbie to seasoned hiker, from scrub to full-on hiker-trash, here is my transformation as I hiked that 2,663 mile trail.

Hitchiking

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Hitchhiking is one of those aspects of trail life that non-hikers tend to find shocking. The first question people ask when they hear about the trail ("You walked how far?!") is often followed by "How did you get food and supplies?" My explanation to is that we hitch into the small towns near the trail to buy food. This invariably elicits interestings reactions.

"What do you mean hitching? Like hitchhiking?" they say, wide eyed.

The logistics of getting a hitch are pretty much the same as they've always been. Stand on the side of a road with your thumb out and hope that some kind soul will stop to pick you up. This is the most common form of soliciting a hitch, at least. Getting a hitch can be about much more than simply sticking your thumb out. When I talk about hitchhiking I am referring to the general act of getting a ride from a stranger. This can happen in so many more ways than my pre-trail self could have imagined: sometimes you find yourself in a parking lot, and you just have to approach a stranger or two and ask for a ride. Other times you have to divide and conquer; there are too many hikers to fit in one normal-sized vehicle. There are even times where you have to do, well, nothing. On these rare occasions rides were solicited to us, which is an incredible experience.

From the day we landed in Southern California until we returned to our hometown of St. Louis, I hitched 43 rides. They varied greatly in quality and novelty, but every one of them was a blessing. Of those 43 times, only once did I ever feel remotely unsafe, and it was due to the driver's carelessness, not because I ever felt I would be harmed.

Before the PCT I had never hitched a ride. I had never ridden in the back of a pickup truck. I had never done a lot of things that I have now done. Sure, I was a little nervous. Mostly, I think the nerves were caused by fear of continual rejection by passing cars. I never really worried about my personal safety or uncomfortable situations. Or at least I accepted it as an inherent risk. Then again, I'm a 6' tall white male who tends to be a bit callous with things like safety, so that might have something to do with it. As for my nerves, they were immediately put to rest after our very first hitch came completely without solicitation. A nice couple saw us walking through San Diego and stopped to see if we needed a ride. HOW CRAZY IS THAT? I would soon find out that this was only the tip of the iceberg.

In case you are still worried, let's see if perspective and clarity don’t put you more at ease. When you go through towns on or near the trail, most people know about the Pacific Crest Trail. When those people see us with our dirty clothes and backpacks, they usually know we're hikers. There really is a community around this trail that looks out for hikers. We are all strangers, but we are strangers within a hiking community.

Beyond that, you have to be willing to let the unexpected happen. You have to let go of absolute control, go with the flow and leave some things up to chance. You are always going to hear stories on the news that someone was found dead in a ditch because some evil monster picked them up. But what about all the times where humans rise to the occasion and help each other out in little ways? These aren't news stories, they are random acts of human kindness. I bet if you look around you will find lots more of those acts than you do big scary stuff. I saw it happen day in and day out on trail; it was a beautiful thing.

Here are a few examples of what hitching on the PCT was like.

Best hitch: We got a hitch out of Bishop, CA from a 70 year old woman in her RV. She came into the cafe where we were sitting and offered my crew a ride. She even offered us some cold Bud Light Limes for the ride back to trail. This woman embodied the spirit of adventure.

We sometimes joked about the most epic hitches imaginable. Firetruck hitch was always at the top of our list. We never got one, but a few hiker trash friends of ours did get a hitch in the bucket of a front loading tractor. We were jealous, to say the least.

Worst hitch: Being shoved three-deep in the back of a car with all our gear and a dog on our laps, winding down mountain roads with a driver who was less than concerned about staying on the right side of the road. The guys that gave us a ride were quite kind, but their driving was less than stellar. As noted earlier, this was the one and only time I ever felt the least bit uncomfortable in a stranger's car.

Weirdest character who gave us a hitch: This super right-wing guy who told us the national economy was on the brink of collapse explained that precious metals were the only thing that were going to be worth a damn. He then preceded to show us a minted silver coin that he happened to carry around in his pocket.

A word of politeness to those who choose solicit their own hitches: if possible, it's best to offer a few dollars in gas money to those that give you a hitch. Ya know, because paying it forward, being a good person and all that jazz. Screw karma, it's just the right thing to do.

One last detail that eluded me before the trail: Oftentimes when someone gives you a hitch, they load you up, drive off, start chatting and roll up the windows. Make sure they don't do this last part! This kind, unassuming person obviously doesn't realize you smell TERRIBLE and should be warned before enclosing themselves in a small, mostly airtight capsule with filthy hiker trash. I didn’t even want to be enclosed in a vehicle with my own smell. I can't imagine how bad it must be for 'normal folk' to have to smell us.

Cheers,

Jonathan

Dan (Soapbox) trying to hitch out of Chester, CA.

Dan (Soapbox) trying to hitch out of Chester, CA.

Myself and Half'n'Half trying to walk and hitch a ride in Big Bear City, CA

Myself and Half'n'Half trying to walk and hitch a ride in Big Bear City, CA

Dan hitching in the back of a pickup to Kennedy Meadows Resort in central California. We had to ride with the gate down because the bed was so full.

Dan hitching in the back of a pickup to Kennedy Meadows Resort in central California. We had to ride with the gate down because the bed was so full.

Frizzle riding in the bed of a pickup on our way back to trail from Trout Lake, WA

Frizzle riding in the bed of a pickup on our way back to trail from Trout Lake, WA

Half'n'Half, myself, Quinoa and Choop hitching back up to Tuolomne Meadows from Yosemite Valley.

Half'n'Half, myself, Quinoa and Choop hitching back up to Tuolomne Meadows from Yosemite Valley.

Looking Back: struck down by sickness (pt. 4)

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Dan took you through the brunt of his own illness and the toll it took on him as we continued making our way through Washington. Now I'm going to pick up the baton and finish out the saga. Oh how I wished it had ended with some annoying mice that kept us up in the night.

As I awoke on this, the 137th day on trail, I felt my stomach lurch. I ran off into the woods expecting the worst, and that's exactly what I got. Making my way back to my tent, I couldn't bring myself to start eating breakfast or packing up. I tried to go back to sleep. As I turned onto my back I felt immediate discomfort. Dan had described that exact discomfort not two days prior. After a few more trips back into the thicket I knew I had fallen prey to the same condition from which Dan had been ailing. Now I had Giardia too. Horror of horrors. This was not going to be easy.

And it wasn't. Luckily, Dan was incredibly patient and empathetic. After all, he was only now recovering from mostly the same symptoms. Like I had done for Dan, he showed great patience as our situations reversed. We stopped when I needed to stop and kept going as soon as I was able. The nausea came in waves, and I had to make the most of the times of stability before again having to urgently rush off trail. 

Oh yeah, and it was raining all day. Did I mention the rain? For the next 36 hours we would experience almost constant rain and cloud cover. This was supposed to be one of the most beautiful sections of the trail. Not only could we not see anything through the thick fog and cloud cover, but instead of sharing vistas we both had nausea and diarrhea. In case you've never experienced it before, diarrhea in the cold rain sucks. A lot. 

It was at this point that I realized this was only the second time on trail that Dan and I had been hiking completely by ourselves. No crew, no loose group of friends with whom we would leapfrog. Just two friends out in the woods shitting our brains out in the cold rain. What else can you really ask for? Honestly, it's an amazing bonding experience.

After two days of trudging along and trying to keep our spirits up, we made it to Steven's Pass, a skiing/mountain biking resort. We found ourselves a ride to the Dinsmore's Hiker Haven, a trail angel house in Skykomish, WA, where we were reunited with Butters and Frizzle. I may have felt like crap, but the comfort of friends meant the world to me. It was also at this point that Dan noticed a voicemail he had received from the clinic in North Bend. HE DIDN'T HAVE GIARDIA! Huzzah. Which also means that I didn't have Giardia. Again, HUZZAH. We simply had a common stomach bug. Food poisoning, or something like that.  Unfortunately this news did nothing to alleviate the nausea I continued to feel. There wasn't much we could do at this point except ride it out.

Butters too had been experiencing the pangs of sickness, only his manifested in an inability to keep food down. Consistent vomiting does not make for easy hiking. Less because it's had to walk while vomiting and more because it's hard to take in adequate sustenance required to do 25+ miles/day.

One day out of Skykomish and Butters was officially worried. There was no indication that his vomiting would cease. He was going to hike back to Skykomish, get a ride to Seattle and see a doctor. We didn't want to see our friend go, but only he could know what was best for him. We woefully gave him goodbye hugs before seeing him head off the same way we had come. This would be the last time we saw Butters. We missed him dearly in the week it took us to finish out the trail. Thankfully, it did not mean his hike was over. More on that later.

As Butters left us we gained a new crew member in Mongo, a fellow St. Louisan, jokester and all around good guy. So our crew would stay until the very end: Dan, Frizzle, Mongo and I.

Unfortunately, Mongo was not the only thing to see us to the trail's end. The nausea, diarrhea and general feelings of discomfort persisted off and on throughout the rest of the trail too. I guess you could say I learned to manage it well enough, but it put a damper on my mood to be sure. For 95% of the trail I felt up-beat and excited for what was to come. During dark moments in that stretch I could only hope that the trail would simply come to an end. We had walked 2500 miles since the Mexican border. I wasn't about to give up on the last 163 miles without a fight. 

I never actively wanted to quit before the finish, but I did occasionally wonder how much grit I had left in me. On one hand, we had already accomplished a great feat. We walked really far, we learned things about ourselves and we had a great time. Technically, we could have stopped there and still gotten a great deal out of the adventure. I wasn't willing to stop until we reached the end, though. I wanted to follow through on the commitment we made to this journey. I wanted the closure of making it to the monument at the Canadian border. Willpower and camaraderie were what kept me going. 

Dan was mostly better in that last week, though he too had bouts of diarrhea from time to time. Even Ms. Frizzle was unable to fully avoid our misfortune. It was less severe than what Dan and I went through but far from optimal. Huge props to that girl for being a driving positive force. It was with this unwillingness to let our ailments and Washington's elements bring us down that we finished the trail.

On September 8, our 146th day hiking this Pacific Crest Trail, we made it. We arrived at the Canadian border with adrenaline surging through our bodies. Nothing could have brought us down in that moment of triumph, although it didn't hurt that we all felt some respite from illness. The weather, too, had cooperated with us. We hadn't seen rain in at least three days. 

Now we could rest. Glorious rest. After getting back to our respective homes and a week or so of recuperation I'm happy to report that all are once again well. Even Butters managed to make it back to trail and finished it out. 

You tested us, PCT. You threw us some curveballs, and still we stuck it out to the end. What a wild ride.

Cheers,

Jonathan

I walked really far with a bunch of stuff and this is what I think about that stuff: Navigation and Water

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I guess you could also call this post "PCT gear review."

Note: UL means ultralight. There is a trend among backpackers to carry gear as light as possible. 

Note II: Always look for gear at a discount. Steep and Cheap is my favorite, but you get almost any piece of gear for a discount. Just because someone has a pack full of nice new gear doesn't mean they shelled out for it.

Note III: There is almost never an end all, be all for any single piece of gear. See what fits for your style and budget. These are simply my observations and opinions. 

Navigation

Yogi's Guide

As someone who had never really hiked before, it's a nice primer for the PCT and lightweight hiking. The 'book' section of the guide helps you figure out if this trail is really for you. The 'trail guide' section is a nice supplement to Halfmile while you're actually hiking. It's by no means necessary, but I don't regret buying it. Remember to hike your own hike (HYOH) and not simply follow Yogi though.

Halfmile maps

I personally didn't use Halfmile maps, but they are great if you are a visual person who likes to see topo maps. The elevation profiles at the end of each section are the best. They're free to download, but you still have to print them.

Halfmile app

Indispensable. This was the No. 1 way for me to get trail data. You get distances and up/down to pretty much anything on trail, especially towns and water. It doesn't do everything, but the features it does have work very well. Free. Available for iPhone and Android.

Guthook app

At $6 per section ($30 total), I found the Guthook apps a useful and worthwhile companion to Halfmile's app. I did most of my navigation via iPhone, and Guthook was helpful as a map and for finding campsite locations. Available for iPhone and Android.

 

Water storage

Smart Water bottle and wide mouthed Gatorade bottle.

Smart Water bottles are great because they use space well on the side pockets of your pack since they are tall and slender. They are less fussy to get in and out while you're walking too. Having one wide-mouthed bottle was handy for putting in drink mixes like Crystal Light or Nuun tablets. Each of these are lighter than your heavy duty bottles like a Nalgene. You will get laughed at if you carry a Nalgene. They're so heavy.

Platypus / SoftBottle 1L (1.4 oz)

During the desert you may need to carry five liters of water at any given time. During certain sections, you may even need to cary six (coming out of Tehachapi, Hat Creek Rim and leaving Crater Lake). It's nice to have an extra liter or two of storage that is compressible when you're not using it. This is a great choice and pretty much everybody uses them.

Water purification

AquaMira

You mix seven drops from two different bottles, wait five minutes, put it in your water and then wait another 20 minutes. I loved these for the desert where we would get three to five liters at a time, but found them a bit more tedious for the rest of the trail where you only need to get between one and three liters at a time. I didn't notice much of a taste either.

Sawyer / Squeeze (3oz)

The plus side of the Sawyer is that it fits on a SmartWater bottle. You can fill up your bottle and drink straight from the bottle with the Sawyer on it, if that's your thing. Also, it filters out debris that you might have picked up your water. Otherwise, I found the Sawyer to be slow and inconvenient. I didn't use it much and we ended up sending it home. 

Bleach

Regular, unscented bleach. Two drops per liter. Wait half an hour and you're good to go. I switched to bleach somewhere in NorCal and never regretted it. Just don't add too many drops or it'll taste terrible and can destroy your stomach lining.

 

Cheers,

Jonathan

I walked really far with a bunch of stuff and this is what I think about that stuff: Clothing

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PCT gear review part 2: CLOTHING

There are always more things you could bring on trail, but this should help you find best options to limit the number of items in your pack.

Note: UL means ultralight. There is a trend among backpackers to carry gear as light as possible. 

Note II: Always look for gear at a discount. Steep and Cheap is my favorite, but you get almost any piece of gear for a discount. Just because someone has a pack full of nice new gear doesn't mean they shelled out for it.

Note III: There is almost never an end all, be all for any single piece of gear. See what fits for your style and budget. These are simply my observations and opinions. 

 

Shirt - REI / SaharaTechShirt

This shirt made the hike as awesome as it was. I bought it the day before we left and it's the best purchase possible. Breast pockets, a collar to look less trashy in town, durable fabric and sleeves that roll and button up make this shirt the ideal hiking top. The brand and model don't matter. You can find those features in a shirt from any brand, but dammit get a hiking shirt. 

Bottoms

I can't begin to care. If you must know, I did the desert in 3/4 capris, the Sierra through Oregon in running shorts and eventually ditched those to only wear compression shorts on bottom. 

Compression shorts - Under Armour

Yup. 

Underwear - Ex Officio / Give-n-go boxer brief

BEST. UNDERWEAR. EVER. I wore them the whole trail and they still look brand new. Hell, I even shit my pants once on trail and I'd wear the same pair for another thru-hike.

Sleep shirt - Under Armour / Cold Gear compression shirt

Nice and warm. Long sleeve sleep clothes are also good for keeping your disgusting skin from touching your sleeping bag. This helps keep your bag cleaner for longer. Mine might have been a bit heavy.

Also consider: Icebreaker long underwear. Like SmartWool's merino wool products, they are not cheap, but they are incredibly light and super comfy.

Sleep pants - SmartWool / Microweight long underwear

Merino wool is kind of expensive, but it's great quality. Lightweight, warm and very comfortable. Most any tights will do I guess.

Socks

Injinjis, Darn Toughs, Wigwams, Stoics and Balegas all worked well for me. Darn Toughs and Stoics were the best. I like the lighter weight running socks as opposed to the thicker, taller hiking socks.

Smartwool can suck it. Instant holes. 

Shoes

They can't make your hike, but they can break it. My feet swelled a size and a half almost instantly. I like my shoes light and with a wide toe box. Don't wear boots. Trail runners are the way to go. 

La Sportiva / Wildcat

Way too narrow for my feet and those of most hikers.

Brooks / Cascadia

The most popular shoe on trails. Solid shoe. Decently wide and wears well. A great go-to. Highly recommended.

Altra / Lone Peak 2.0

Wide toe box and great fit for my foot. Another bonus: they have Velcro for gaiters built in, in case gaiters are your thing. They are for me. Note: these shoes are zero drop and can require a little getting used to. Perhaps not as well suited for the Sierra Nevada or Washington sections. They wore out way faster over rough mountain terrain.

Gaiters - Dirty Girl

I really loved having gaiters. What kind you have doesn't matter, but the variety of designs Dirty Girl offers is cool. Not everyone likes them, but I found them great for keeping large amounts of sand and rocks out of my shoe. Yes, you're feet will still get filthy, and sand will still get in your shoes, though it won't be as bad as it would be otherwise. 

Outdoor Research Gaiters

Pretty much the same as dirty girls, but plain looking.

Jacket - Mountain Hardwear / Ghost Whisperer (7oz)

This is hands down my favorite piece of gear. It's so light, so comfy and so warm. Not cheap, but I love it. As always, respect down and keep it dry.

Rain Jacket - Outdor Research / Proverb (13oz)

A solid rain jacket that was neither too expensive nor heavy. Not exactly the most breathable, but what good rain jacket is? There are lighter option out there, but I can't speak for how water resistant they are.

Also consider: Outdoor Research / Helium 2. It's lighter than mine.

Rain pants - Mountain Hardwear / Alkane Pant (9oz)

Great pants. Only really needed them for the Sierra and Washington, but boy were they great in Washington. The zipper up the side makes them easy to get on and off even with shoes on, they're very water resistant and surprisingly breathable for rain pants. 

Warm hat - Outdoor Research / WinterTrek Fleece Hat

It was a nice, warm hat. Plus it had a wind-stopper in it.

Gloves - Seirus / Soundtouch hyperlite

Only really used them in the Sierra, but they work just fine. For the rest of the trail I used a pair of Injinji socks that I cut up into hobo gloves. Very hiker trashy, but they worked. I thought the ability to use my phone was going to be nice, which is why I got these gloves. Were I to do it again, I'd get some lightweight liner gloves that are easier to get on/off.

Sunglasses

Yup. Preferably polarized. You WILL lose or break at least one pair on the trail. 

 

Cheers,

Jonathan

I walked really far with a bunch of stuff and this is what I think about that stuff: Pt. 1

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I guess you could also call this post "PCT gear review."

Note: UL means ultralight. There is a trend among backpackers to carry gear as light as possible. 

Note II: Always look for gear at a discount. Steep and Cheap is my favorite, but you get almost any piece of gear for a discount. Just because someone has a pack full of nice new gear doesn't mean they shelled out for it.

Note III: There is almost never an end all, be all for any single piece of gear. See what fits for your style and budget. These are simply my observations and opinions. 

Pack - Granite Gear / VC Crown 60 (2lb 2oz)

Your pack needs to do two things. It should hold your stuff and ride comfortably. That's about it. That's exactly what the Crown 60 does, and it does it well. It does not have tons of bells and whistles, but it doesn't need to. It's comfy, light and reliable. One of my favorite pieces of gear. If it has a shortcoming, it's the lack of hip-belt pockets, but you can buy them and add them if you like. A very popular pack this year.

Also consider: ULA / Circuit (2lb 6oz), the most popular pack on trail. If you're really UL try out a Gossamer Gear or Z-packs pack.

Sleeping bag - North Face / Blue Kazoo (2lb 6oz)

My sleeping bag is slightly heavier than average, but not by too much. It kept me warm almost every night but the most bitter cold and did so at a cost that was impossible to pass up. Not the fanciest piece of gear I own, but certainly one of the best values. 

Also consider: Mountain Hardwear / Phantom (2lb)or Western Mountaineering. Expensive, but incredible bags.

Sleeping pad - Thermarest / Prolite 4 (1lb 8oz)

My pad is an inflatable one, so you have to blow it up. Not a big deal, since it is one of the more comfortable options out there. It doesn't pack down as small as other pads, nor is it as light as most others, but it performs well and was cheap.

Also consider: Thermarest / Neo Air , the Cadillac of sleeping pads. Expensive, but the most comfortable and definitely UL. Requires lots of blowing up. Were I to do the trail again, I'd get this in a 3/4 length and use my pack for under my feet. (8oz for the shorty)

Also: Thermarest / Z-lite. Very popular, UL, durable and inexpensive. Doubles as a sit pad. Not exactly the cushiest pad though. (10oz for the shorty)

Groundsheet - 2' x 7' sheet of Tyvek (4oz?)

Totally necessary. I bought mine for $5, it weighs next to nothing, adds mild insulation and protects both your tent and sleeping pad from punctures and abrasions. 

Tent - Easton / Kilo 1p (1lb 14oz)

I loved my tent. It's light, reliable, kept me warm and dry, has a decent size vestibule, and doesn't take too long to set up. Add the great price at which I purchased it, and it is a great buy. The big downside was that it is a monopole tent and, therefore, not freestanding, which means you have to be careful how you set it up in the wind, but that was never really a problem for me. Unfortunately nobody seems to have it in stock anymore. 

Also consider: Big Agnes / Flycreek UL 2, a very popular tent on trail and with good reason. (1lb 15oz)

Don't consider: Tarptent / Contrail. Everyone I knew who had one if these hated it. 

Headlamp - Petzl / Tikka XP 2 (3oz)

While the headlamp can be a pretty inconsequential piece of gear, I loved mine. Bright/dim, beam/diffused, white/red lights. It's got all the features and doesn't weigh much. 

Also consider: I can't be bothered to care. 

Knife/multitool - Leatherman / Style CS Multitool (1.4oz)

Great little tool. Not too heavy and just the right tools, which include a knife, scissors, clip/bottle opener and a file.

Backup power

Goal Zero / Nomad 7 and Guide 10  (13oz) and (6.4oz) respectively

These worked well for the desert and Sierra, but their effectiveness dropped off rapidly by time we hit dense forest in NorCal and Oregon. Useless in Washington. Plus, they aren't exactly UL, especially not with the Guide 10 attached.

EasyAcc / 5000mAh Ultra Slim Power Bank (5oz)

At only $20 and and 5 ounces, I think this is a much better option for recharging your phone. It'll give my iPhone two charges, which should be enough for pretty much any section of the trail. It's also much smaller and less cumbersome than dealing with a solar panel.

Trekking Poles - Black Diamond / Ultra Distance Z-poles (10oz)

These are among the lightest poles available on the market and worked well for me. One broke, but Black Diamond had great customer service and immediately replaced it. Poles are actually one of the few pieces of gear where weight doesn't seem to matter so much. Even having poles is up for argument. The lighter your pack, the less necessary they are. Sometimes I wouldn't use them for most of a section and find them irritating, especially over rocky terrain. Other times I found them invaluable. Mostly, I recommend looking for a pair that are affordable.

Stove - JetBoil / Flash (15oz)

The JetBoil is faster than anything else out there, but it's really only effective for boiling water. If you try to cook pasta and stuff in it you're going to burn stuff to the bottom, which is a major pain in the butt to clean. It's also slightly heavier than other options. If you cook a lot of Mountain House, Ramen or instant potatoes, though, it's awesome.

Also consider: MSR / Pocket Rocket with an Evernew / Titanium pot

Nothing is going to be perfect, but this setup allows for actual cooking if you have things like Knorr sides or Mac'n'cheese. Not as fast as a JetBoil, but it's a little more versatile and lighter. Remember, variety is key when it comes to eating on the PCT.

Stuff sacks

A small one for odds and ends like toothbrush, permits and Ibuprofen. Also for sleep clothes. You could honestly just use a gallon ziplock bag though. Why didn't I think of that while I was still on trail

 

Cheers,

Jonathan

Scenes of Washington

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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

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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

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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

Scenes of and thoughts on Oregon

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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

I saw (all of) the sign(s)

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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

The passes: Forester Pass

Hiking in the high Sierra requires climbing mountain passes - also they are part of the PCT. Passes  offer new challenges - timing our climbs around snow conditions, river crossings and distance to the next pass or campsite from the summit.  

Forester Pass, officially the highest point on the Pacific Crest Trail at 13,153 ft, was the first hurdle (although it's way bigger than a hurdle). The day before our band of thru-hikers had climbed and slept at the summit of Mt. Whitney so we approached Forester tired, but primed and ready to gain altitude again.

We camped four miles before Forester so we could gain the pass and descend in the morning, before the accumulated snow could be softened by the early summer sun. If we descended too late we risked postholing - when stepping on soft snow, you sink, a disaster as one leg becomes trapped up to the thigh in melting ice and snow and your body and pack crash off balance.  It may go without saying, we have become well aquatinted with postholing. 

We wake and pack quickly, each knowing the day brought new challenges. The approach to the pass was incredible, ice and snow fields like nothing the PCT had shown us yet. I passed waterfalls, frozen rivers, even caves, and I gazed upon the roughly hewn mountains wondering which our little foot path of a trail would force me to climb.

In the distance I saw Pedi at the base of a snow covered mountainside. I could make out Half and Half part of the way up the snow and talis. Quinoa was no where to be seen. I had finished the short approach, walking dazed and awestruck by the beauty of the Sierra. Now my focus was directed in front of me and upwards. Time to climb.

the ascent wasn't difficult, the snow crunched as I kicked steps for myself. Seconds later I had found steps kicked by other hikers and well compacted. The snow was plenty firm, progress was quick. Pedi and I were moving fast, we knew the Europeans were just ahead and we were excited to catch up. The snow turned to rocky switch backs, shear drop on one side and ice wall on the other, I couldn't imagine a better start to my morning. We gained the last switch back. The final hump to the top was covered in ice and snow, deep foot steps were kicked to make the last steps less risky. 

From the top, our view of where we had come from was breathtaking. All the distance we had walked in the past week we could see from Forester - an odd feeling when those miles earned with sweat, some pain and many hours would soon be out of sight, left there for the next adventurer. With a turn I looked to where we would descend and drank in our future. Snow fields, icy lakes, deep valleys, and mountains that cut into the skyline like wild claws - the Sierras are a beast and Forester was like a gateway into the belly.

We snapped some pics and laughed, as a group we were excited and proud and happy to be facing new landscapes. Then we got ready to descend. 

Going was quick on the hard snow fields. After cutting a few switchbacks we made it to our first glisade. Was it necessary? No. But it was a blast. As an FYI, glisading just means sledding without a sled using something as a break - we improvised with our trek poles. 

The descent took longer than we thought it would and the snow started to get soft. After a short section of post holing we made it to a clear area. We were beat, soaked and ready for lunch.

After the snowy section we hiked into what seemed like the Forbidden Forest from Harry Potter. Giant trees, rushing river, shear granite canyon walls and waterfalls all over the place. We were hiking for Kearsarge Pass so we could resupply in Bishop, CA (not a huge snow covered pass, but still a climb). Getting to town for a meal after the snow was a perfect end to our first pass in the Sierra.

Cheers,

Dan

 

Trail leading to Forester Pass.

Trail leading to Forester Pass.

Scene as we approached the pass.

Scene as we approached the pass.

Looking back at Forester Pass

Looking back at Forester Pass

Hiking down from the top of Forester, 

Hiking down from the top of Forester, 

Pedi, Quinoa and Half and Half descend the snow field.

Pedi, Quinoa and Half and Half descend the snow field.

what a group... Photo by Pedi

what a group... Photo by Pedi

Scenes of the desert

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The desert is so many things and has so many varieties. There's low desert, high desert, hilly desert, sandy desert and on and on. It's not as glamorous as snow covered mountains, but we have given much of our lives to it of late. 

mile 220

mile 220

mile 224

mile 224

Mile 226

Mile 226

Mile 285

Mile 285

Mile 312

Mile 312

Mile 337

Mile 337

mile 315

mile 315

Mile 345

Mile 345

Mile 344

Mile 344

mile 387

mile 387

Mile 343

Mile 343

Mile 540

Mile 540

Mile 522

Mile 522

Mile 515

Mile 515

mile 524

mile 524

Mile 656ish

Mile 656ish

Now the desert comes to a close as we ascend up into the Sierra Nevada. The mountains look grand and beautiful. 

Cheers, 

Jonathan