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!
Wednesday, April 24, 2013
Friday, April 19, 2013
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!
A toast, to 150 days of quinoa!
Tuesday, April 16, 2013
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.
"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.
Thursday, April 11, 2013
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!
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!
Sunday, April 7, 2013
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.
Saturday, April 6, 2013
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
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
Monday, April 1, 2013
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...
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