Trail Wars: Return of the Hiker

I'm baaaaack! So, as some of you may have heard, I'm currently on my way back to the trail. After being at home for a month and a half, I couldn't bear it anymore, I had to get hiking again. This time I'm starting at the northern terminus in Canada and hiking south to the point that I left off (hopefully) near Donner Pass. My reasoning for this is that I think I will have a better chance of getting to my destination before snow and other weather prohibits me from continuing on. There is definitely the possibility that I will be back home in a few days after realizing that I left the trail in the first place for a good reason, but I'm hoping that will not happen.

Towards the end there, I know I sort of went off the map and greatly neglected my blog, but this time around I'm going to try to keep up on it more. No promises though. 

At this moment I am 7 1/2 hours away from take-off on Adventure Part II. If all goes according to plan, I should be home just before Thanksgiving. May the force be with you (or with me in this case)!!

Range of Light

Our first night out of Kennedy Meadows we camped next to the South Fork of the Kern River. It was the most water we had seen in one place in a very long time. I was worried that with my pack as heavy as it was I wouldn't be able to go much more than 15-17 miles per day. Which would be okay, but I was hoping I could continue on my upward trend. However, my second day out I hiked a solid 20, despite the grueling climbs at high elevation. 

The next day I hiked with my friends Dingo and MudD and we made this grand plan to go 25 miles so that we could summit Mt. Whitney the next day, which was Dingo's birthday. Fifteen miles in, we came to our first lake on the trail: Chicken Spring Lake. We thought we would hang out there for a little bit and then continue on. Three hours later, we decided we were just going to stay twee for the night because it was so beautiful and we just couldn't pass it up. We had a wonderful, quiet afternoon and cooked our dinner around 5:30 pm. Soon after that, about 10 other hikers showed up for the night and all began cooking their dinner. At this point, MudD, Dingo, and I were already hungry again, but we had eaten all our food for the day, so it was torturous sitting around with everyone eating their delicious dinners while we sat starving! 

We had one more day to become acclimated before climbing Mt. Whitney. The past couple days had been hard and I'd had a constant headache and had gotten a bit loopy on some of the climbs. I was hoping one more day would be sufficient to get used to the altitude. From Chicken Spring Lake we hiked to Guitar Lake, which was about 5 miles away from the summit of Mt. Whitney. We decided that we wanted to be at the top for sunrise, so we all set our alarms for 2:00 am. As we hiked up the steep incline in the dark, I was thankful that I could not see the many more switchbacks that were ahead of me. I just kept on trudging. It took 3 1/2 hours to get to the summit, and I came over the crest just in time for the sunrise. It was spectacular! Here I was at 14,505 feet on the summit of the highest peak in the contiguous United States and I felt like I was on top of the world! 

It took us less than half the amount of time to hike down the mountain and when we got back to Guitar Lake at 9:30 am we decided we'd put in a few more miles for the day. 

The next day was, by far, my favorite day on the trail. We went over Forester Pass, which is the highest point on the pacific Crest Trail (13,200 ft) and it was much easier than I had expected. As we came over the pass into Kings Canyon National Park it was the most beautiful landscapes I had ever seen. I was just about in tears it was so amazing. The past few days all I could think about was the block of cheese that I was going to eat when I got into Bishop, but hiking through Kings Canyon the cheese didn't even cross my mind it was so insanely beautiful. 

We finally got into Bishop the next day. After 7 days on the trail, we were ready for a nice break. We went to see a movie, got yummy treats (and, yes, I did eat an entire block of cheese in one sitting), and relaxed for a day and a half. 

The few days coming out of Bishop were very hard. I was anxious to get to Vermilion Valley Resort to see my mom, aunt and uncle, and cousin, who were meeting me there. Each day I was going over a pass, and it was kicking my butt. I wanted to get to VVR so badly that I even hiked 27 miles one day just so I could get there sooner! I finally got there and it was such a relief. I was so happy to see everyone and to be able to relax. We drove to my aunt and uncle's nearby cabin and I had a hot shower, a good meal, and some nice family time. 

I'm almost done with the High Sierra, which will be a sad day. It has been so amazingly beautiful and fun. I'll be sure to savor every last moment of it...

To Hell and Back

The day we left from Tehachapi we had to walk 8 miles through a wind farm with 50+ mph winds and heavy fog. Everyone else who I was hiking with claimed that they preferred the weather we had to the normal 100 degree blazing sun, but I'm not so sure. It was pretty hairy. The next 4 miles after getting out of the wind farm was a big climb, and by that time I was already in a foul mood. We got nearly to the top of the hill and I decided to stop for the day while everyone else kept hiking. I realized that, after spending over a week with my friends, I needed some time alone. I was also getting extremely sick of the desert and the ups and downs of the weather; I felt like I wouldn't be able to stay on the trail if I had to deal with the desert for much longer.
I fell asleep before the sun went down and woke up feeling much better. I was happy to be able to hike by myself and to go my own pace and stop for a break whenever I wanted to. By 3:30 in the afternoon I had hiked 22 miles and my feet were calling it quits. That night was the first time that I had ever "cowboy-camped" by myself. Up to that point I had been very nervous to sleep out in the open without my tent, but it felt like that fear had suddenly disappeared, and it turns out it was totally fine! The next day I was trying to get as close to Onyx as I could so that I would be able to pick up my package from the post office before it closed for the weekend. That would mean hiking at least 25 miles, so I saddled up for an early morning start. I ended up making it about 26 miles and camped somewhere on the side of the road I was walking on because it was getting dark and no cars had driven by to give me a ride. The next morning I woke up and as I was just packing away my tent at 5:45 AM, a truck drove by and agreed to give me a ride to the post office (which I was very happy about since it was still 17 miles of road-walking to the highway). Once at the post office, I waited for 4 1/2 hours for it to open so that I could get my resupply box. I then took an hour-long bus ride into Lake Isabella where I had reserved a room for the night in a small motel. I awoke the next morning with feelings of dread flooding my thoughts; I had absolutely no desire to walk even one more day in the desert. After much humming and hawing (and some tears too), I decided that I would get a ride to Kennedy Meadows, the last resupply before the High Sierra. I have been feeling terrible about skipping little sections here and there, but I finally put some deep thought into it and realized that its okay. This is my hike and my trip and I can do whatever I want to. I don't have to be a trail nazi or a "purist" (someone who doesn't consider it a true thru-hike if you don't hike every single mile) if I don't feel like it. The desert was making me unhappy, and it just isn't worth it to be miserable because that would defeat the entire purpose of the trail.
Since it was about a two and a half hour drive, I knew it was going to be tough to hitch there, so I shelled out some big bucks for a cab to take me. It was so worth it though. Kennedy Meadows was like a combination of the Saufley's and the Anderson's all over again except that everyone was even happier because they were finally done with Southern California. The Kennedy Meadows General Store knew what they were doing: they would let hikers open a tab instead of having to pay each time they buy something, which is extremely dangerous for hikers when you're ravenous and there's all the chips and Ben and Jerry's you can eat. I stayed in a trailer at Tom's Place, the local Trail Angel house, where there was a movie on a large projector every night. Two days later, my hiking buddies rolled in and I decided to stay another couple of nights and hike out with them. The night before we were going to leave, I went to the store to close my tab. After 3 1/2 days of lounging around and pigging out I was nervous to see how much my bill had racked up to, but was pleasantly surprised when it only came out to $85. In the morning, we all took our time packing up and getting ready to leave. Tom had a scale that we could use to weigh our packs, and since everyone had to carry a bear can from this point on, we were all anxious to see how much more weight we were going to have to carry. Even though I had never weighed my pack before, I knew it was on the heavier side even without the bear can, so I wasn't too shocked when the scale read 47 pounds. However, as we began walking back to the trail, I could already feel the extra pressure in my feet and my back starting to ache. Hopefully it will get lighter quickly as I eat food and don't have to carry as much water as I did in the desert. But I would so much rather carry a little extra weight than have to hike one more day in the heat. I can't tell you how excited I am to finally be in the mountains! I feel exponentially happier than I did a week ago and can't wait to see what this next leg of the journey brings.

Onward and Upward

Finally out of Wrightwood, it felt great to be back on the trail in good condition. We climbed Mt. Baden-Powell our first day out, which was difficult, but very rewarding. At the top, we took off our packs and scurried up to the summit where we had a beautiful 360 degree view. It was amazing how light it felt to hike without a pack on; I actually felt like I was floating/a drunken sailor. After a long, steep descent from the mountain, we were almost to our stopping point for the day when I spotted a bear cub! I was excited to see my first ever bear in the wild, but also kept a wary eye open for mama bear, who was nowhere to be seen. 

On Day 29, I hiked most of the day on my own and it was so great. I felt so happy to be where I was exactly at that moment and to be doing what I was doing. It's so interesting the rollercoaster of emotions that I can feel in even just one day or from one day to the next; at one moment I'll be happy and feeling great, the next I'll be cursing the trail and wishing I could just go home, and the moment after that I'll be content with just about anything. I can definitely tell that I'm beginning to hike faster too. At this point, if I get an early start around 6:00 am or so, I can hike between 17-20 miles by 3:00 or 4:00 in the afternoon. Anyways, that afternoon I moseyed into the Acton KOA around 2:00 (17 miles woo!) and, since it was so painfully hot, decided to stay there for the night with hot showers, a pool, and a convenience store with ice cream. Slowly more hikers started to trickle in and by 6:00 there was a semi-large group of us camping there. My hiking buddy, Horny Toad, and I decided we should make everyone pancakes for dinner, and they were so delicious! It was the first night that I really felt like I bonded with other hikers. It was so much fun, and really only the beginning.

The next morning, Horny Toad and I took off at 5:30 am with only 10 miles to go to the Saufley's, one of the most looked-forward-to Trail Angel houses on the PCT. We got there just in time for the daily REI shuttle, so I hopped in the car and went to get some new shoes! Being in LA, even just in one store, was very overwhelming - I can't imagine what it will be like getting off the trail and going back home when all this is over...but back at the Saufley's, everything was just peachy. It was actually amazing how much they did for all us hikers. They knew exactly what we needed physically and how to accommodate our crazy requests. That night all 30+ hikers that were there sat around the campfire drinking beer and smoking pot and having such a great time. During our relaxing time at the Saufley's, we met up with another group of hikers who we really clicked with and decided to leave with them. So the next night we headed out around 7:00 pm for some night hiking with about 8 other people. The next part of the trail was a 24-mile section to another Trail Angel's house called Casa de Luna, home of the Anderson's. In this particular section, there is, what is known as, "The 24 Challenge." The challenge is to drink 24 beers, in 24 miles, in 24 hours. While I was absolutely sure I would never ever make it there if I tried the challenge, a couple in our group took a different spin on it: they decided it would be fun to do 24 shots of tequila instead. About 10 miles in, we had to tell them to stop and camp for the night because they were likely to break an ankle if they continued on. The rest of us continued on a little farther and a few of us stopped around midnight to camp. We were too tired to set up tents so we all cowboy camped in a big cuddle puddle. I think it was the most fun I've had hiking up to that point. The next morning was an easy 10 miles to the Anderson's house, where we were required to wear an Hawaiian shirt and have a beer in our hands. Casa de Luna is also a very popular stop more known as the party place, and where as the Saufley's had a two-night maximum, the Anderson's had a two-night minimum. The Anderson's are known for their taco salad dinners and pancake breakfasts, both plates piled at least 6 inches high (sooo delicious!). I'm pretty sure I gained back any weight I may have lost just from the few days I spent there. After 2 1/2 days, we finally escaped the vortex with the same group: me, Horny Toad, Sierra Bum, B-rad, Marijke, Werewolf, and Huck Finn. (I actually don't know their real names!) The next day we went 20 more miles to a little place called Hikertown (kinda creepy) and decided that we really didn't want to spend the night there so we planned on leaving later that night. We hung around for about 4 hours and at 9:30 pm we headed out. We got 5 miles and I couldn't go on anymore, so we all stopped and slept among some Joshua Trees. We didn't actually get much sleep, but we wanted to get an early start to beat the heat while walking along the Aqueduct. After about 10 miles of hot, flat pavement, my feet were not feeling so great. As we were walking up to a small water cache, the people who stocked the cache were also just arriving. They told us they had a camp close by and they ended up giving me a ride to the nearest road, where Mom picked me up a few hours later since she was planning on meeting me in Tehachapi the next day anyway. We got a hotel room for the evening and hung out and talked all night, and it was so fun. After she left the next morning, I realized how much I really missed home and my family and friends. 

The Sierras get closer and closer every day....I hope to see some of you on the trail soon! My love to you all.

Pictures #1

This big fella wouldn't move! Finally, after accidentally hitting him with a rock, he coiled up and slithered away. 

Mile 200!

Mesa Wind Farm

Waking up to a frozen tent..so cold!

Last section with Dad and Mom

Happy Mother's Day!

Summit of Mt. Baden-Powell

The greatly feared Poodle Dog Bush

Road walking on a Poodle Dog Bush detour. 

Rock painting at The Anderson's. 

Taking Care

After spending a relaxing night in a Big Bear hotel where I had a jacuzzi bathtub in my room, I was feeling refreshed and ready to move on. I nearo-ed (nearly zero miles) out of Big Bear City and set up camp just in time to be sheltered from the rain/hail/thunder/lightening storm. I woke up the next morning feeling like I was on top of the world and I hiked 16 miles by 1:00 in the afternoon, where I met up with some friends I had been hiking with before. Since they had camped a bit farther than me, they wanted to keep walking and I wanted to stay with them, so I ended up going almost 24 miles, the farthest I've ever hiked in one day. By the time we got to camp, I was so toasted, but proud of myself for such an accomplishment. We got an early start the next morning so that we could get to some hot springs that were 4 miles down the trail and soak our feet for a while. When we arrived we were greeted by some hikers that had been there for three days and were leaving only because they were running out of food. Not wanting to get sucked in, we bounced right out of there after only an hour and a half. I'm not sure if the heat was getting to me or what was happening, but as we descended down the mountain I began to think of my life in the past few years and everything that has brought me to where I am now and I was overcome with emotion and just started to cry. By the time I got to the bottom of the hill, the tears had mostly subsided, but I was feeling a little drained. It was getting extremely hot, and so after a few miles we were searching for a nice shady spot to take a siesta when we suddenly stumbled upon a miracle! Some Trail Angels had set up a hot dog and rootbeer float feast for hikers wanting to wait out the midday heat. We stopped to rest, intending to take off sooner than later, and we ended up spending three hours there because it was unbearably hot and there was no way we could hike in the beating sun. Others hikers also trickled in while we were there, and around 4:00 pm we all decided it was time to hike out, even though it was still quite hot. We immediately started climbing and I was not feeling so great. All of a sudden I couldn't breathe very well, my heart rate skyrocketed, and I began to panic. I found some shade and one of the friends I was hiking with asked if I was okay. All I could do was sort of shake my head,"No," because I knew I would start to cry if I tried to speak, and I was trying really hard not to. A few other hikers stopped, all wondering if I was okay, and I finally had to respond, and the tears just flowed as I explained to them what was happening. Luckily, two of the guys who were there with me were Wilderness First Responders, so they helped me sit down and relax and put a wet bandana around my neck. As we sat there, they calmed me down and one of them pulled out his ukelele and started strumming to try and distract me. After about 20 minutes, I felt like I still wouldn't be able to go on anymore and I made the decision to walk back to the Trail Angels and see if I could get a ride into town. On the way back, I cried some more because I was so bummed to have to be leaving the trail. One of the Angels agreed to drive me into Wrightwood (my next resupply stop), where I would take a couple days off and wait for the rest of the group to hike in. Once there, I immediately called home and cried some more on the phone while talking with my parents, but after a while I realized I had made the best decision I could have in a bad situation. I needed to take care of myself first and foremost. Also, I had just experienced the most amazing Trail Magic ever. These people that I had barely known for a few hours had done this beautiful thing and had helped me and become my family. It had been a good bad experience and it made me realize that everyone on the trail has this extremely intimate connection because we are all going through the same shitty stuff, and so we all become really close really quickly. And I now know that the trail, and my fellow hikers, will always provide and always have my back.

I spent three days in Wrightwood (basically laying in bed the entire time) to rest and rejuvenate, and by the time my hiking group rolled into town, I was good to go. My body definitely still felt like it was recuperating, so I decided to take things easy on my way to Agua Dulce and only go 15-18 miles per day, so as not to push myself past the point of no return.

As I near my 1-month marker, I look forward to a day off in Agua Dulce at a Trail Angel's house and then some cooler night hiking on my way into the desert. And then on to the Sierras!

Riding It Out

I've found that spending time in towns is a bit of a catch-22. While I think it's necessary to have adequate time to rest my body, especially in the beginning, it is quite difficult to get back to the trail after spending a relaxing evening in a comfortable bed and having a hot shower whenever I'd like. Once I'm back on the trail, it's all okay, but making that initial jump to get there is the hard part. I'm hoping it will get easier or it won't be as crucial to take as many days in town as my body gets more and more accustomed to the trail.

The time has come for the real journey to begin. My parents have gone back to their lives and I am left on the trail to figure things out on my own. 

Pretty much the whole first day of being on my own I felt like I was going to cry. Even though I wasn't actually alone since I was hiking with a few other people. I think it was mostly because it had been so fun and easy hiking with my parents and now the unknown seemed much more daunting. But after the first day and night, I realized that I was going to be okay. I know what I'm doing and I just have to trust that. Even now as I sit in my tent as it rains and hails and ominous clouds swirl overhead, I know I'll be okay. All I need to do is ride it out and let the bad weather pass. And that goes for almost everything. 

Moving Forward

Mom and I took a few days off to attend the annual kick-off party back at Lake Morena called ADZPCTKO, where there was good free food and lots of down time to rest. I finally got my trail name there too: Mermaid, given to me after telling a friend the story of how I was rinsing my clothes in the lake and accidently fell in. It feels a bit silly introducing myself as Mermaid on the trail, but I think I'll get used to it eventually.
As we moved into week two, I said goodbye to Mom and hello to Dad. I was a little nervous about hiking with Dad since I had already been on the trail for a week and my hiker legs were starting to kick in. I didn't want to be held back by any blister problems that he would have either, but I would do what I had to do to accomodate him.
Our first day out was hot! I didn't mind having to stop in the shade and wait every once in a while for Dad to catch up. I finally had to pull out my Chrome Dome reflective umbrella to shield myself from the sun while walking, which made a huge difference. We endured the heat and ended up going 18 miles! A big first day for Dad and for me after taking 2 1/2 days off. We camped at a Trail Angel's house where they had cold beverages and chili waiting for us when we arrived. It was nice that my Dad was already getting to experience a little bit of Trail Magic.
By day two, I was no longer having to wait for Dad to catch up and he was keeping pace with me just perfectly. We saw a myriad of desert wildlife: rattlesnakes, gopher snakes, garter snakes, and horned toad lizards crossed our path all day!
With time passing, the days sort of meld into one another and I can't remember what happened when. As we entered the San Jacinto Wilderness, water sources became farther and farther off the trail, and we would have to hike close to a mile or two detour with an elevation change of 500+ feet to refill our water supply. But we would try not to complain since water is extremely critical in the heat and we have no desire to get dehydrated. Since the San Jacintos are fairly large mountains, we had a ton of ups and downs. It literally felt as if we were constantly trudging up a 30-50% incline in the beating hot sun for two days straight. And just when we thought we couldn't climb anymore, the trail would take a brief, but steep, nosedive and then lead us straight back up to where we were before. It was hard and even frustrating at times when we were tired, our legs were screaming, and our feet were aching. However, we didn't really have any other choice than to just do it, so we did.

With each day I can feel my body hardening. Not only are my legs getting stronger, but also my core, back, and arms are as well from carrying my pack and using my trekking poles. Speaking of trekking poles, I have the weirdest diagonal tanline on my hands from the pole straps, and the handles of my poles are so caked with dirt and sweat that they are sticky, and I'm left with a gross, balck residue on my hands every time I put them down.

My appetite is still quite depressed. I've gotten to the point where I get hungry, but after a couple bites I have to force-feed myself, and sometimes it isn't until I can't barely walk that I realize I need to eat something. I'm sure the "hiker hunger" will kick in soon enough though and my stomach will be a bottomless pit.

There is definitely a certain point almost every day that I think to myself, "Screw this. I'm done," but then I take a rest and have something to eat and I change my mind. Also right when I wake up in the morning I think, "Do I have to get up and leave my warm sleeping bag?" The answer is always "Yes."

I move forward with my adventure and with each day I get more accustomed to the trail and enjoy more and more what it has to offer. A past thru-hiker told me, "Day to day, town to town, state to state, border to border. That's how it's done." And it is so true. If I think about the fact that I am hiking for 4 1/2 more months, all the way to Canada, I get extremely overwhelmed. But if I just think about getting to the next town, it doesn't seem so daunting. So with that, I'll meet you all in the next town.

And So It Begins!

Day 1:
As we drove up to the trailhead, my heart was racing and my hands were shaking. The past three months had all been in preparation for this and here I was, finally, and suddenly the stage fright was kicking in. We stood there at the marker, took a couple pictures, and we suddenly realized we had no idea where the trail went amongst all the dirt roads winding around the border. After studying the map, we got our bearings and headed out in the right direction. Because there wouldn't be a reliable water source for about 15 miles, we were carrying 10 liters of water between the two of us. At 2 lbs. per liter, that was a lot! But we had no desire to run out of water in the hot sun, so we happily carried it all.
Shortly after beginning we passed three people. It was very hot and we were climbing a lot, but we were feeling great! We were getting into a great rhythm when BAM! A rattlesnake right in the smack middle of the trail. That sure got our hearts racing! The snake slithered off the trail and we resumed walking, this time a little more aware of what was around us. The next thing we knew, there was another rattlesnake on the trail! Two in one day! It was a sign.
Around six o'clock we came to a place called Hauser Creek (about 16 miles in) and discovered that there was in fact water there even though we had heard it was dry. There were some other hikers at the creek who said they were going to eat dinner and then hike 4 more miles to Lake Morena. We decided that we were going to try to do that as well, figuring it would take us about 2 hours to get there given the pace we had been going.
We set out at seven o'clock up the big hill and soon had to pull our headlamps out as the sun went down. We walked for what seemed like forever in the dark, even stopping to check the map for fear of being lost. Finally we stumbled into camp at 10:30 at night, barely able to stand on our feet, and headed straight for the showers. After washing up, we made camp, ate dinner at midnight, and finally went to sleep, hoping our feet would feel better in the morning.

Day 2:
After waking up still unable to walk very well, we decided that we would definitely not make the same choice again that we had the night before. Lesson learned. By the time we taped up our feet, packed up camp, and found the trail again, it was already 11:00, an extremely late start. A couple hours of hiking later, we were hot, tired, chafing, and in pain, when out of the blue an almost-naked old man came wandering down the trail ahead of us. We had a much needed laugh and continued a few more miles before stopping for camp, today completing only half the miles we did the day before.

Day 3:
We prepared for the day thinking our blistered feet wouldn't carry us more than one mile. We ended up going 12! It was by far the hardest day yet. I came up with a few ways to cope with the pain of each step:
1. GET ANGRY: listen to an emotionally charged song and channel that anger
2. Say a different curse word every time I take a step
3. VERY deep breaths

Towards the end of the da, my spirits were down and I was seriously doubting my ability to continue on the trail. There were no more spots left on our feet that could still blister, but we endured through the pain and made camp at a campground about 1 mile away from Mt. Laguna, our first resupply stop.
We, oddly, have had no appetite, and whenever we do eat, we get terrible indigestion and acid reflux. We are barely eating half our food. Hopefully this will change soon because it's a drag carrying way more heavy food than we need to be.

Day 4:
We couldn't even get our shoes on since our feet were so swollen and raw, so we each put on 3 pairs of socks and hobbled up the road to the Mt. Laguna Store. After picking up our box, we sat out on the porch with 20 other hikers, discussing the amount of agony we were all in and how to combat the pain and thoughts of quitting. My mom and I decided that we needed to take care of our feet before we caused any other injuries and that we would take a day off and spend the night at the lodge in Mt. Laguna.

Day 5:
After three warm Epsom salt baths, a comfy bed, and a new pair of shoes, I felt great! In fact, we felt so great that we hiked 17 miles! Things are looking up and I'm feeling much more confident about the rest of the trail. Now I know that when things are looking down, I just need to take a breather and take care of myself!

The Last Supper

So, here I am...in Southern California counting down the hours until the adventure begins. My grandmother very graciously agreed to be my chauffeur to get me to the trailhead and to give me one last night in a comfortable, cozy bed and a nice meal before the monotony of endless bars and jerky. For my last supper, my only request was not to have quinoa, as that will be my dinner every night for the next five months. Since I would be arriving later in the evening, my grandma decided to get take out from her favorite restaurant so that it would be ready to go when I got there. I pulled into the driveway, said my hellos, and went inside to discover dinner ready and waiting as promised. Quinoa. Yum. When I explained to my grandmother why I would be sticking with the salmon and vegetables instead of the quinoa, she replied, "Well I had no idea what it was! It sounded like something you would eat." Little did she know....
A toast, to 150 days of quinoa!

Gear

This pretty much sums it up.

VIDEO: Get the Gear


"I love [my boots] with a passion that borders on the indecent...When you're way to hell and gone out there, you're nearly as dependent upon your equipment as is a mountain climber. You will love a sleeping bag that keeps you snug in a camp swept by a freak cold front;  you will hate a raincoat that soaks through; you will cherish a tent that holds up through a howling storm; you will despise a cookstove that won't light in the rain, or that coughs and sputters in the cold.  We're not just talking things here, we're talking serious relationships."    -    Hank Burchard, "Winter in the
Woods,"   Washington Post. Jan 3, 1986.


In the long-distance hiking world, there is such a huge emphasis on "ultralight" backpacking. And while there is definitely truth to the idea, it seems like people can get so carried away with it. Sub-10 lb. base weight...really? Is that necessary? Even though distance hiked per day directly corresponds with packweight, it's not a race to get to the end or even to the next resupply. There is literally so much lightweight gear out there someone could spend thousands and thousands of dollars just to shave a few ounces off their base weight. I admit that I did get a little bit sucked into it all, but I was able to keep myself in check and not go too crazy. In fact, I don't even know how much my pack weighs exactly, and I don't want to. I'm going to carry what I'm going to carry and that's that. Why should it matter exactly how much it weighs? I would rather be overly prepared than lack something that could be critical. As long as my pack is comfortable and doesn't cause any injuries, that is good enough for me.

Miniature Disasters

In the process of getting ready for the PCT, I thought I'd better do some practice hikes to prepare myself and try out some of my new gear and all that. And thank goodness. Let's just say I needed a little practice before I was going to go on a five-month-long journey in the backcountry by myself.

When we hiked in Point Reyes National Park, I thought it would be a good idea to bring my stove and try to cook something that I would be eating on the trail for my lunch. So after hiking for a few hours, we found a nice spot to sit down and have a bite, and I began to prepare my stove. The very first thing I did was knock my pot over and spilled 4/5 of my uncooked quinoa into the grass. There went the bulk of my lunch. I tried to stay positive though and moved on to rehydrate the sauce and dehydrated beans I had brought. It was going well until I took the lid off my bowl to find that my collapsible spoon was nowhere to be found. Things were beginning to look dismal. All I was left with was some beans and sauce to be eaten with a small piece of orange peel in place of a spoon. At least it was something.
Up to that point I had been pretty content, but the reality of things were settling in. I was NOT prepared. Good thing my mom had packed some malt balls, so I filled up on those and we were shortly on our way.
...12.5 miles later, we were back at the car preparing to go home. As I removed my old tennis shoes that I had worn all day, I discovered the third, and final, blow of the day. A blood blister larger than the size of a quarter on the inside edge of my right heel. We drove home and I tried to ignore the pain and not to think of what a failure the day had been.
Once we got back, I performed some small-scale surgery on my foot and we headed out to dinner. One happy, full belly later, I realized that the day hadn't been a failure. In fact, it had been quite the opposite. While I may have had some major oopsies, they were done and over with. In the backcountry I would know to be extra careful about not knocking over my cookpot full of dinner because my mother wouldn't be there with malt balls to lift my spirits. I would also know not to keep pushing on, like I have always known to do in dance, when I feel a blister coming on. There's no reason to put yourself through pain when there is quite an easy solution.

Our next practice hike would be an overnight backpacking trip to Henry Coe State Park. The goal was to go 30 miles in two days, hiking 15 miles each day. This time, I was prepared for (and fully expected) a few minor catastrophes. When we arrived to the trailhead, we were bombarded by a million warning signs telling us to be careful and check ourselves frequently for ticks. Great. It was already going to be quite the experiment trying out new shoes and my new tent. Now we were going to have to be worried about ticks. But alas, this would not stop us!
At the end of the first day we reached our destination with few complications and quickly set up camp and cooked dinner. That night I ate the most delicious Tasty Bites I had ever eaten in my life after hiking 15 miles. I was a little bit anxious about having to hike another 15 miles the next day because I didn't know if my swollen feet could manage it, but I tried to push those thoughts aside, elevate my feet for the night, and see what the morning would bring. We snuggled into our sleeping bags and after what seemed like a couple hours of tossing and turning finally fell asleep. I woke up in the middle of the night to the howling wind and my tent collapsed on top me. Half-asleep, I put on my headlamp, braved the wind, and attempted the shove my tent stakes back into the ground in my dazed state. Luckily, the wind eventually died down and my tent was safe for the rest of the night.
We awoke in the morning, wrapped our feet up nicely with tape, and got ready to leave. As I was changing into my hiking attire, my mom gave me a strange look and came closer to examine what looked like a freckle on my rib that hadn't been there before. It was no freckle. I had gotten bit by a tick. We inspected it only to find it dead. With its head still buried inside my flesh. Ew. My dad worked on trying to pull it out with tweezers as my mom and I both looked away. I cringed and told him, "I don't care if I bleed, just get the thing out!" He did his best, I slapped on some antibiotic cream and a band aid, and we packed up and headed out.
About halfway through the day, I could barely walk my feet were so blistered and raw. We stopped for a snack and I changed into my sandals to let my feet air out and cool down. After a little more hiking, we came to a nice creek where we took a break to pump water and soak our feet. I swear that creek had mystical properties. Immediately I was back on my feet feeling refreshed and ready to go. I could have hiked a million miles more! (Maybe exaggerating a little...) But it was amazing how much better I felt. We even decided to take a detour towards the end of the hike to tack on a few more miles.

Although I worked out a few kinks up to this point, I know there will be many more to come.  Nothing is going to go perfectly and the trail will most likely throw things at me that I've never had to even think about before. The difference now is that I accept that they will happen and by keeping cool and calm, I can figure out how to deal with just about anything. Here's to the miniature disasters!

HikeFor

Help support the environment by sponsoring my hike! I have joined the organization HikeFor, that lets long-distance hikers do good while they trek. You can pledge a certain amount of money per mile that I hike, just like those grade-school jog-a-thons, but just a tad bit larger scale. I've decided to donate to The Nature Conservancy and the Pacific Crest Trail Association. All the money will be given to these non-profit organizations. For a little more info, check out the website www.hikefor.com. To donate, visit the "Hikers" page and find me! Keep in mind that the trail is 2,663 miles long, so a little goes a long way.

FOOD!

I decided that I would begin planning my meals first because I knew that would take the longest amount of time and would by far be the biggest expense. The average thru-hiker burns upwards of 4,000-6,000 calories per day. In order to keep energy levels up, this would mean eating equally as much. However, carrying that amount of food for up to 7 days at a time is extremely unrealistic. I finally settled on ~3,500 calories per day (which would barely get me by) and then supplementing with massive meals at each resupply stop. After meticulously planning a varied menu for myself (so that I wouldn't get sick of eating the same food), I set out to purchase it all. More than ten visits to the grocery store later, I decided that I was sick of going to the market and spending obscene amounts of money on food and that I was going to downsize my lengthy menu. I will now be eating the same exact thing every day. For five months. 

I've come up with two theories:
           
1. Either I will get so sick of eating the same things every day that I will never be able to eat oatmeal, energy bars, or quinoa again.
2. Or, I will get so used to eating these things that I'll never be able to eat anything else again.

I guess we'll just have to see.

If you'd like to see my complete daily menu, visit the following link:
DANA'S PCT MEALS

Preparations

Having hiked and backpacked my whole life, I was not surprised to find out in my research that the three most important things for a thru-hiker are:

              1. Food and Water

              2. Shelter

              3. Warmth

So with that in mind, I began to research what kind of food a typical long-distance hiker might eat and what gear I would have to get in order to successfully complete the hike. I quickly discovered that planning this hike in only 3 months (while most people take between 6 to 12 months) was going to take a lot of effort. I quit my job and focused all my time on the PCT. And boy am I glad I did! With less than a month until I begin, I still have yet to finish buying all the gear I will need. But its slowly coming together...

The First Steps

Growing up in a world of pointe shoes, blistered and bloodied feet, and careful scrutiny of body health and awareness has taught me more than I could have ever imagined. Ballet showed me how to be passionate, disciplined, perseverant, and to give it your all 100% of the time. The overused phrase "no pain, no gain" basically ruled my life. While I sacrificed certain aspects of my life that most people consider essential to growing up and finding out who you are, the endless hours I spent dancing, and the few melancholy years after not dancing, has enlightened me in ways I couldn't have thought possible. As I have shifted my energy to a more forgiving practice and instruction of yoga I am only now realizing the affect my path has had on me up to this point in my life.

After taking an extended break from school, I couldn't help shake the feeling of being lost and not knowing where to go next. The ever-present existential questions of 'who am I?' and 'what am I doing with my life?' clouded my thoughts. Do I keep living with my parents? Do I move out? Do I go back to school? (What would I even study?!) The far-off dream of hiking the Pacific Crest Trail at some point in my life seemed to be moving closer and closer to the present without my even knowing it.

And now, here I am. Less than a month away from this spectacular, life-changing event. I think about my life in the coming five months and I'm almost unable to even comprehend it myself, let alone trying to explain to others the endeavor I'll be taking on and my reasons for doing it. I feel more confident about my decision to hike the PCT than any other decision I've ever made. As I prepare for the hike, I am grateful for those life lessons of discipline and perseverance that have been ingrained in my mind and I know that they will most definitely serve their purpose. I truly believe that everything that has happened in my life has led me to where I am, and there are a million steps I can take from here.

The Plan

As you may already know, I'm planning on hiking the entire length of the western United States via the 2,663.5 mile path known as the Pacific Crest Trail. In this blog I will share my journey with you, the good and the bad, as I hike to find myself and travel in my own direction. Enjoy!