I have a confession to make. This is anything but an ideal year for a thru hike. Well, at least for me anyways. I commend my fellow PCT hikers that are still in pursuit of Manning Park, British Columbia. In the past 5 weeks, they have endured all day snow traverses, crossed raging swollen rivers, hopped over hundreds of fallen trees and swatted at thousands of mosquito without ever seeing the trail. At times they were up to their wastes in snow trudging through the most scenic part of the Sierra Range. They crossed over dozens of frozen alpine lakes and spent hours looking for a hidden trail. As a result, they are rewarded with the opportunity to complete the PCT in 2010. A mighty feat in my opinion.

In early July I made a conscious decision to forego the thru hike and wait for the trail conditions to improve. Why? The reason is I would rather hike through green meadows, swim in alpine lakes and safely cross flowing rivers than push through the Sierras. Due to the late snow in the West Coast, it altered my agenda and in essence, pushed it back. It has been said before that it is about the journey, not the destination. Thus, I left the trail in July and traveled to Chicago, Louisville, Knoxville and New Orleans. I had a wonderful time road tripping but did have to work through the disappointment of not finishing the trail this year.

As of right now, I am back in California about to hitch hike 15 miles to Walker Pass. That is the point that I got off before heading to Northern California in June. I am in great spirits and feel re-energized! I plan to finish California by the end of September. That said, I will have hiked 1,700 miles (2,650 entire PCT) which isn’t too bad of a hike. I am so excited to hike through the Sierras while in peak condition. I apologize for not updating the blog but it took a bit of time to re-calibrate and create a condensed trail plan.

To the casual observer, thru hiking the PCT should be quite simple. All a hiker has to do is sleep, eat, hike, eat and sleep again. Daily considerations may include water sources, trail obstructions, weather, health, etc. All of which are manageable. But then there is reality.

Just last week, I was dealing with a strong bout of Giardia. It is amazing to me how a little parasite can destroy my digestive system and cause other hikers to institute a 50 foot rule from my blow hole. Literally, that is what it was but I still managed to hike twenty mile days. I lost my appetite and only consumed 1,500 calories a day versus my normal 5,000 calories. On the bright side, I dropped five pounds and developed calluses on other places than me feet… never thought that was feasible.

I deserved it though. A week before contracting the parasite, I was mocking the Southern California section of the trail. The first 600 miles had been easy (all things considered), the weather was perfect, people were cool, my health intact. At mile marker 601, I got kicked off my majestic soapbox. The weather turned sour for three days. After a nice soaking, somebody turned up the thermostat to 100 degrees as I crossed the Mojave Desert. Now the trail was mocking me because the PCT followed the LA aqueduct for 50 miles. I had the fortune of carrying water for 50 miles because the LA Public Works Department decided to weld all of the water openings along the pipeline. Along the way, the parasite did its worse and I got very good at hiding behind cactuses and Joshua Trees. But I made it through the final part of Southern California successfully AND became more humble.

At this point, I have to make some tough decisions related to the high snow pack in Central California. As I hike north into the Sierra Range, the trail ascends as high as 14,000 feet and as low as 7,000 feet. While I have plenty of snow experience, I don’t look forward to long slow days of post holing through the soft snow. Thus, I may decide to flip up to Northern California and hike southbound for a couple of months. The PCT contours along lower ranges in Northern California and may provide a better opportunity to maintain twenty plus mile days. Considering that I have 2,000 miles left and only 14 weeks in which to do it I may have to pick this trail apart versus hiking one continuous direction.

The Southern California section of the PCT has been everything but normal. First, the weather has been extraordinary. Unlike most years, I have experienced cool, dry days and encountered snow in low elevations. Temperatures are ten to fifteen degrees cooler than an average year enabling me to hike all day instead of waiting out the hot afternoon sun. The thirty mile water carries have been more like fifteen mile carries due to flowing seasonal creeks and springs. Normally, I wouldn’t need an ice axe or compass until the Sierras but have found it useful on multiple occasions including Fuller Ridge and Mt Baden Powell.

Second, the locals have been helpful and interested in the trail. They have a huge part in shaping the trail culture because the hikers and locals cross paths all the time. Sometimes the locals are day hiking or offering a ride or offering a place to stay. I was hesitant about SoCal locals before I started but have found them to be ultra friendly and laid back. The exact opposite of the Hollywood types. One trail angel pulled up one time and offered a few of us a ride back to the trail. Considering it was a fully loaded Escalade and she had two kids in baby seats, I didn’t think she would stop. After we got in we tried our best not to smear or sweaty dirty bodies into the white leather. One hiker almost broke the DVD player when he got in. Along the way, we bartered with the toddlers for their animal crackers and watched Shrek. Good times!

I have learned that the PCT is a laid back, carefree trail experience. In part, it is due to the head wall of snow in the Sierras. All of us are taking our time and hoping for that range to partially melt out sooner than later. In the next two weeks I will be crossing the Mojave with perfect hiking weather. Temperatures in the 60s versus the average of upper 80s.

Since starting the PCT three weeks ago, I have been asked how this trail compares to the Appalachian Trail. It is unreasonable to compare the trails because they are great for various reasons – hikers, trail conditions, weather, point in your life, etc. However, there is one notable difference in favor of the PCT. The Trail Angels. They do exist on the AT but not to the same magnitude as the PCT.

Trail Angels are people that are giving and kind to thru hikers. Below is a short list of the many generous acts since I have been in the PCT:

- Chili cook out with all the fixings the first night on the trail
- Dozens of water caches placed in areas where water was scarce
- Cinco de Mayo party including 200 smoked chickens and spaghetti
- Sodas in random spring boxes
- Car rides from the trail to towns
- Lodging at homes in Wrightwood
- Occasional hotdog stand in the middle of the woods
- Helpful USPS workers
- And tons more

It is always awesome to meet a friendly local that is supportive and interested in what I am doing. These Trail Angels enhance our trail experience and lift our spirits. The smallest gesture lifts me up and improves my outlook of mankind. The trail is still doable without the trail angels but a huge part of culture would be missing. I look forward to more magic and almost expect it as I have been spoiled on the trail thus far.

Timing is everything. I figured that out several years ago but I didn’t want to believe it when I was planning the PCT. The 2010 Farmer’s Almanac indicated a wet cold winter in California and snow reports indicated the highest snowfall in the last decade. As a result, trail conditions would be worse than normal and require additional skills that the average thru hiker may not have. For me, it meant more items to carry and shorter mileage days in unfamiliar mountains. Even though I had plenty of winter backpacking experience I was frustrated and stressed. This was Southern California – I wanted hot sunny days and hike in shorts and sandals!

I started the PCT the same weekend at as 80 other thru hikers. Hikers were excited to start their journey as well as anxious about the high snow levels in the southern mountain ranges. Local volunteers and trail advocates did an awesome job providing us with water and snow reports. The information helped us locate water sources and trail sections that required ice axes. I was impressed with the amount of information and the locals’ interest in the trail. It was a sign of good things to come.

I set out on Sunday, April 25. The southern terminous is literaly on the US/ Mexico border. My parents made sure that I had a prolonged start and photo shoot. We even had time to chat with US Border Agents patrolling the fence. Apparently, over 3,000 illegals cross over in that area every month. After a heart felt goodbye, I hiked north. Unlike the Appalachian Trail, when I cried due to the overwhelming thought of hiking for five months, I was at peace and calm. It felt like just another day of doing what I love. The planning was over and life was simple again. My choices and thoughts were related to food, water and shelter. I really enjoyed the silence of the trail; only the sound of the wind blowing in the sage and my feet crunching along a gravely surface. Of course, that only lasted an hour or so until I ran into a few hikers that started that same day.

The best part of Day One was that I turned my dream into a reality. Every day after that would be less significant in that context.

I recently sifted through my old travel journals and realized that I first communicated an interest in the Pacific Crest Trail (PCT) at age 14. Around that time I was plotting a way to graduate high school early so I could thru hike the Appalachian Trail. It has been a fruitful 17 years and I am fortunate to pursue a childhood dream so many years later. The reasons why are not ever as important than the act of fulfilling a dream.

As I embark on my journey north I want to take a minute to acknowledge and thank the people in my Beacon Club. I choose not to single out people but most are in my family, circle of friends, and local community. So, thank you to all of the people, past and present, for your support and guidance. I look up to you as beacons in the sky. I am always watching and learning. Your light influences my thoughts and dreams. Without you I would be lost. Understand that you are already a part of the trail experience and directly contribute to my happiness.

With that said, I am off my sendinental soap box. The blogs will be lighter, I promise!

Mendoza – the wine capital of Argentina. The city lays claim to nearly all of the world’s malbec production. And Will and I tried valiantly to claim all of the malbec in the city. We did not succeed but that is only due to the fact that we have eight bottles tucked away in our packs.

The Central Andes Mountains serve as the backdrop of the city and the locals take full advantage of them. Every morning, adventurers pour out of the town headed for the hills. Hiking, climbing, rafting, biking and hang gliding are all options. And options they were for Will and me. On the opposite side of town, the wine vineyards fan out across the plains. Every afternoon, wine enthusiasts grab their glasses and visit hundreds of vineyards. There are over a 1,000 wineries and Will and I ended up at TWO! Furthermore, we ended up doing only ONE adventure and my pulse went down, not up. I attribute our lack of activity to three things: unbelievable steaks, Antarctica post depression syndrome and the after party in Santiago.

There is a point when a traveler knows when it is time to return home. Some folks miss their loved ones, others run out of money and others are just ready. Well, for me it was two nights ago when I ordered my usual 450g steak and I couldn’t finish it. I had my fill. I was embarrassed and the server was appalled. So, I stood up, thanked the man and walked off to the ice cream store to order a two scoop. Will, on the other hand, finished his steak. He too offended the server when he used the left over bread from somebody else’s table to soak up the meat juice left on his plate. I don’t think that Will is quite ready to come back to the States yet…

One of my favorite things to do while traveling is exchange slang terms. I had the great fortune to teach Jose the term, “Shit Show”. Pardon the language but it was so appropriate at the time. Will and I had perfect weather for the first few days on Easter Island (a.k.a. Rapa Nui). But on the day that we were going horseback riding around the island, it poured. It didn’t help that Will couldn’t control his horse at all. After the first twenty minutes we were only 100 yards down trail. I guess Will enjoyed watching his horse sample every plant in the field.

The grazing continued as we passed by several stone heads (a.k.a. Moai). The heads are human figures carved from a quarry located along a crater rim in the middle part of the island. Amazingly, the locals carved over 800 heads and transported them around the island back in 1500 AD. The story goes on to say, that the locals depleted all of the natural resources in an effort to erect more statues that connected the living with the dead. It worked… Fast forward a couple of hundred years and nearly everyone from the island got to meet their deceased ancestors due to Peruvian slave trader invasions and diseases. Speaking of disease, Will’s horse must have contracted one from a plant it ate because it started passing nasty smelling gas. So now, it is pouring rain and the horse is stinking it up.

It gets better because on our way down we ran into three bulls that were head butting each other. Not a big deal except we were all on a narrow fence lined road. Apparently, horses don’t like bulls and vice versa. The bulls started too charge us and we took off. I was so shocked – not at the bulls but that Will’s horse could actually do something other than eat or pass gas. Jose got things under control after we had a nice gallop. That is when we taught him the term “Shit Show”. He found it amusing and we are sure that he will use it the next time he has a group of foreigners on horseback and the weather is perfect.

Gambling, rain, laundry, steak, and sleep…that about sums it up.

Danco Island provided a 360° view of one of Antarctica’s most stunning scenery in which all the passengers spent most of the morning landing taking in. Of course, Gentoo penguins greeted us along the way. We then cruised through the Neumayer Channel which also has comparable scenery and many braved the cold outside to enjoy it.

The afternoon included a visit to Port Lockroy which included a museum of an Antarctic research station. After touring the research station, a horrific thought came to my mind. What if I were to be stranded here for a winter? Sure, the cold and solitude would be a monumental challenge to overcome. I couldn’t rely on the reading material because I don’t like Readers Digest – the survival stories are a bit boring. The calendar on the wall is of a bunch of women dressed conservatively in bathing suits – must have been eye opening in the 1950’s. Worse of all was the main food staple was Marmite and Vegimite. I would rather be stranded at any other nations’ station for that sole reason. If you ever get the chance, tell your travel mate to load up his biscuit with a generous helping of vegemite and lift your feet up in the air.

Now, Ben and I have done our fair share of camping in the past, but to camp out on an Antarctica ice shelf provided a most unique experience. Due to some confusion during booking, Ben and I ended up using our own gear which allowed us to go, but made for one of the most miserable nights camping ever for me. After another rock-paper-scissors contest, I elected to choose the therm-a-rest/sleeping back/emergency blanket setup so I could sleep outside and look at the stars (if the clouds cleared out), and Ben ended up with his brand new 1-person tent. To quote Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, “I chose poorly”. Catabolic winds, heavy snow fall, and a torn emergency blanket later, I found myself without wind protection, covered in snow, and 0° F air temperature. One positive that came out of not sleeping the entire night, was that I was awake when the never ending cloud cover finally broke around 3:30am and I enjoyed some fantastic star gazing against the silhouette of ice covered mountains.

SUN! For the first time on our trip, the sun finally appeared in the morning which made the second passage of Neumayer Channel quite amazing as we headed toward our morning landing spot of Cuverville Island. Just when you think you’ve seen just about everything one could on a trip, we were lucky enough to have another encounter with some more Leopard seals. Unlike our previous encounters where they attacked our zodiacs or tried to elude us, these Leopard seals were only focused on catching and killing Gentoo penguins, and there was not a shortage of opportunities to witness this act from close range. Kelp Gulls, Southern Giant Petrels, and Little Wilson’s Storm-Petrels soon appeared to pick up any remnants of what the Leopard seals left behind. We then made a shortened landing on the Island.

Our last excursion in the Melchoir Islands was what many of us on the boat expected we would have throughout the trip. Sleet, steady winds, and increasing seas made us appreciate how lucky we had been with the previous 10 days as we looked upon more Fur seals playing in the water.

It was then time to head home. We would spend the next two days heading back through the Drake Passage and Beagle Channel. Everyone on the ship was amped up from the excursion and trading contact information. The Ukraine was generous and opened his place up to anyone that wanted to travel to Kiev. Ben and I are going next summer after we clear it with the CIA. The Ukey was in the process of buying an Icebreaker ship to sail somewhere and the group thought it would be fun to have a reunion on it at some point. We figure that most of us will stay in touch and reconnect at some point given how amazing this experience was. The trip was successful because we had a great expedition staff, ideal weather conditions, and a great travel group.