Enter:Canada

Mile: 2,658

Day: 160

Location: Ella’s Bellas Bakery, Beacon, NY

Avocados: 57

Showers: 36

I completed the trail on September 18th, and as of then those are the final numbers. Since then I’ve showered everyday. I don’t love it, but I feel as though it’s something I should do.

This is my nephew William. He showers more than I do.

This is my nephew William. He showers more than I do.

Before I go into a concluding post about my experience on the PCT, you should know how it ended. Because it ended in style. A very bad and miserable style, but as I found out, not all style is shimmery and glamorous.

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I last left off in Stehekin, remember the bakery I mentioned 19 times? I loved that place. Anyways, I was off to take on the last 89 miles: 4 days, 3 nights till Canada.

The forecast told us Thursday/Friday would be gorgeous, then the weather is turning ON and probably staying on until next June, good luck, hikers. Welcome to winter.

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I had an incredible breakfast and hopped on the bus with Polaris to the trailhead. We hiked together that morning talking about it all. The end is near, how do we feel? How do we explain this? Will we do another thru-hike? Does he use tons of commas in his blog posts as well? Maybe I can get his thoughts on the proper use of a casual semi-colon.

"Hey Polaris the colors are really pretty so I just took a creepy picture of you from behind, you don't mind do you?"

“Hey Polaris the colors are really pretty so I just took a creepy picture of you from behind, you don’t mind do you?”

It was a great morning, we’ve only met once but you’d think we’ve been friends for a lifetime. It happens often, hikers instantly clicking with each other and never looking back. Slinging jokes left and right, completely at ease with one another. They say those who endure a lot of suffering together form incredibly strong and unique bonds. This, I would have to say, is very true. (Too many commas? Polaris?)

It was a beautiful autumn day and the colors were out and about. It was a weird, dry, desert-like feel for several miles, so many little critters scurrying in the dry brush as you walked by — very reminiscint of Southern California. I thought back to those desert lizards running all over the place, and remembered the day I saw that dreaded “Mojave Brown Bear.” Remember that tale? I made it up.

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Kidding! Boy that would have been good though. BUT there is a reason to this, not a good reason, but something I feel like sharing with everyone. I am also about to tell this story because when Maggie (Chuckles) gets around to reading this she’ll want to throw up again, and that makes me laugh.

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WELL, back in May, after telling Chuckles and Spoon about my terrifying bear encounter, Chuckles thought to tell me her terrifying wildlife encounter of the day in efforts to make me feel better. She started to tell the story and then stopped, almost ralphing in her mouth. She couldn’t finish the story so Spoon excitedly finished it for her. As I was eye to eye with the “Mojave Brown Bear,” Chuckles’ eyes were 4 miles behind me, staring at the ground, at one medium sized lizard swallowing a smaller lizard. The lizard being eaten was still alive and healthy. It’s awful. It’s gross. It worked. I’m glad I went toe to toe with my “Mojave Brown Bear” instead of seeing an act of such malice. Point being, I was never fond of those lizards. I mean could you imagine walking down the street and seeing a human swallowing another live human? OH THE HUMANITY!

So where am I? The desert? Oh, no, the Northern Cascades. Close, jules. Hey I’m allowed to ramble, it’s my second to last blog post, this is going to come nowhere CLOSE to making sense.

Here's a picture of an apple cider donut in a sandwich bag to further confuse you

Here’s a picture of an apple cider donut in a sandwich bag to further confuse you

About 20 miles into the day I reached Rainy Pass and saw two old hiker friends! Proton (he’s always positive) and Dream-Catcher! I met them in Trout Lake and we got lunch at the cafe. It was here when Laura told me she booked her flight to Vancouver, and here where I started to slow down my hike. Proton and DC got back to the trail after lunch and I never saw them again. UNTIL NOW!

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They finished the trail just the morning before this! They found a way to Seattle, picked up Protons car, hit the grocery store, and drove to Rainy Pass for the day to provide trail magic for us. It was incredible. One day after their thru-hike and they began to give back. After receiving so much love and support from trail angels this summer, it was so cool to see hiker friends immediately dishing it back out. I’ve yet to meet one unappreciative hiker, I’m actually not sure if they exist.

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A few more miles up the trail I set up camp at the aptly named, wait for it….”Trail Camp.” Looking at the map I thought hey, this sounds good! But before getting there I hiked over TWO post-it warnings from “The Germans” about aggressive hornets in the area. I couldn’t believe someone who undoubtably got attacked by these things had the courage to run back and place warning post-its for the rest of us. Heroes.

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It was a lovely night at “Trail Camp.” It provided everything I needed, access to the trail AND a place to camp. It got chilly at night but I knew I was in for a sunny day, always helpful. I slept in, left trail camp around 8:45. Really chilly in the morning, couldn’t WAIT to get over the ridge and into the sun.

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At the top of Cutthroat Pass, my jaw dropped with the beautiful vista that came before me. It was unbelievable. Then I heard some music, and the rustling of potato chip bags, lots of them. Then I saw a guy who could easily be mistaken for Forrest Gump. He had great energy, even though he had just woken up from a rough night on the rocks. He said his name was “Chips” and in order to really EARN his trail name, he hitched into town and bought 15 bags of Kettle Chips, and a bottle of Champagne. This was ALL he had for fuel for the last 70 miles of the trail. He literally just ate an entire bag of NY Cheddar for breakfast. He immediately became my hero, and gave me such a good boost of energy. I love these people.

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The rest of the day was sunny and gorgeous. Ridges, forests, climbs, more ridges. It was on this day, Friday, that we had our last major climb. Of course I had no idea, but at the top of the switchbacks Polaris stopped and looked at me. He was pretty emotional telling me that was the last climb of the trail. He said something I’ll never forgot…”How are we ever going to make sense of all of this? How do we explain this? Month, after month, after month. We’ve been doing this for MONTHS.” True. These climbs have been going on for months. They’ve become part of our daily lives, they’ve become routine. Climbs we’d lose sleep over in SoCal we were now conquering, at altitude, without breaking a sweat. How do we explain this? How have we done this?

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After another really enriching conversation with Polaris, he hiked on to let me have a moment up top to soak it all in. I thought mostly of the Sierra. Mountain Pass after Mountain Pass after Mountain Pass. So much snow, so much technicality. So much experience. Could I do it again? Would I WANT to? I don’t have an answer for that yet. But what I do know is how I felt in THAT moment. I felt lighter, I felt freer, I felt like a complete badass. My legs have powered me up and down so many insane mountains, through so many intense river fords, and across so many flat and windy forests. I’ve seen so much this summer, all on my own two feet. All powered by a positive mindset. The hard part was over, it was time to coast into Canada. Or so I naively thought.

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I hiked along a ridge before I descended into where I decided to camp. The clouds were moving in, and as the sun set behind the mountains I could of swore it was saying goodbye to me. So, being 5 months into this life, I said goodbye back, shedding a tear. I had 1.5 days left, and I knew that was the last time I’d see the sun. Damnit.

The coolest clouds

The coolest clouds

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I camped by a dirt road that night, surrounded  by hunters (it’s okay guys, my jacket is ORANGE). I got my tent up, my dinner cooked, and the moment I laid down to read it began to rain. Sounds peaceful doesn’t it? Well, it was. I slept great. At sunrise a van full of hunters (none of which spoke English) caused a ruckus and then finally dispersed into the woods. I should of just asked them to shoot me, pleading to kill me now! Hah!

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No, no, I did not wake up with a bad attitude. It was my last FULL DAY in the woods, and it was a Saturday! This means nothing, but sometimes I get excited about it. My goal was the usual marathon, there was a lake about 27 miles away with camping. All I had to do was keep my head down, and keep one foot in front of the other. I would get there eventually, just going for a walk in the woods, shouldn’t be too bad! Right?! Right?!

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Worst day of my existence. Terrible horrible no good very bad day. Where’d those hunters go?

Also in my positive mindset corner, a rain jacket! It has a rip in it and I’ve had it for over 5 years and it doesn’t work well. But it’s labeled a rain jacket so it’s GOT to be better than nothing, right? I bundled up. I lost a glove 200 miles ago so I didn’t even bother wearing my other one. Rain pants would have been a good investment. Next time.

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I took down my sopping tent, stuffed it in a garbage bag and stuffed that in the outside pocket of my pack. Time to get moving or I am going to freeze. 2 miles until Harts Pass, where they’re are drop toilets and maybe car campers offering up hot coffee? Hey, a girl can dream. I got to Harts Pass, used the toilet, threw away some garbage (the BEST feeling) and tried to look as miserable as possible. No one felt bad for me. No one offered coffee. Bitches.

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Hiking on! After Harts Pass it stopped raining for 25 minutes and it filled me with SO much hope. Turns out the clouds were just filling up so it could dump on us for the next 24 hours straight. Head down, one foot in front of the other. I put my poles in my backpack for the first time all summer. My hands needed to be free so I could stuff them in my pants and shirt to warm up. It sucked not being able to hike with my poles, my ankles were turning all over the place and there were some steep climbs towards the end of the day. My joints saw 100% pressure on the very last day of the trail, kind of funny.

I stopped once around 3:00 because there was a spot the size of my body that a tree was sheltering from the rain. I had 2 scoops of PB left so I hoped to be able to open my pack and devour it. It took a minute, but I was able to figure out a way to unclick my pack buckle. It was a moment. Me, pouring rain, peanut butter, misery. It was a moment.

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The rest of the day was spent battling the inner turmoil. Hands clenched tightly around my umbrella, held captive to my own mind. A prisoner. Just me, the weather, inaccessible food, and a whole buncha rocks. I saw only 2 others. I spent the afternoon hiking on the edge of my breaking point, going back and forth. I’d go over the edge and yell at the PCT, asking why it was so relentless. Then I’d somehow find a way to bring myself back and apologize for being so crazy. Then I’d yell at it again. Then maybe cry a little bit. Then laugh a little bit. Then clench my fists and tell myself “one last test, one last test.” This whole summer I self-motivated myself to get up, get out, and get it done. I had to dig down deep to see if any of that toughness was left, and I found some, thank god.

The last few miles I was above 7,000′ so it wasn’t raining, it was just ridiculously windy and cold. This worked out well, because there’s nothing like a good wind-storm when you’re soaking wet! I had a heated debate in my head whether I’d rather be hiking in the wind or the rain. I dismissed my own rules to the debate and chose the sun.

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Last morning in my tent, selfie!

The hardest part about the tenacity of the weather is the fear that comes with it. People ask me all the time…”aren’t you scared out there alone?” On the fair weather days, not so much, I’ve adapted to the change and have gotten used to the elements. But when the weather is as frightening and dangerous as it was on that Saturday, and as it was in the High Sierra, the answer is yes. I’m terrified of everything when the weather is bad. But I’d also still be on the couch if I let fear decide.

Fear. Stress. Imagine them intertwined into a huge ball resting in your gut. It’s just sitting there. You can feel it. You try and try to unravel it, figure out how to make it disappear. But eventually, you must accept that it’s there and that it is going to be part of you until you make it out. It’s this ball of fear that exhausts me the most. It weighs so heavily on my mind. What if nothing is dry? Will I make it through the night? Will I have to keep hiking to stay warm? What if my tent collapses in the storm? So many unknowns. I was so tired from 5+ months of unknowns. My mind needed a vacation from this vacation. Like a Kardashian type vacation. Maybe I’ll book with Sandals.

I made it to the lake, somewhere between 6-7:00. 10 hours of nonstop hiking. 27 miles. The wind was whipping my tent around, and the rain came in heavy bursts. I was sort of dry. My tent door zippers broke again 100 miles ago, so I tried to configure a garbage bag/burger bandana makeshift door to keep the draftiness at bay. It sort of worked. Actually, for the first time ever, I slept with my head away from the door, where my feet should be. It was weird and I didn’t like it, but I felt warmer down there.

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I read for awhile, afraid to surrender to the efforts of falling asleep. Luckily, I fell asleep, but only for a little bit. I woke up a couple hours later to boil water, my lower half was insanely uncomfortable. I filled up a water bottle of hot water and threw it in my sleeping bag. Also for the first time, I peed in my tent. I didn’t want to disturb my garbage bag/burger bandana door set-up. You know Talenti Gelato? Delicious, delicious gelato. I had a pint jar for a few weeks now, using it as a jar for certain drinks or for protecting fragile fruits. Tonight, I used it as my toilet. I peed in it 3 times, emptying it outside my tent each time just in case it spilled. I wish I did that all summer!

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Anyways, I couldn’t sleep, so I read and I read, oddly at peace. The worst part was over, my tent seemed to be holding up and sure I could see my breath and was a bit damp, but things could certaintly be worse. Besides, tomorrow night I’d be inside! I’d have to take my time, but I’d be out of here and in a car around 4:00 tomorrow. I was going to be okay. This is a blessing, now I won’t miss the PCT too badly. This is a blessing. A traumatic blessing. Maybe one day I can laugh at this, but probably not.

I left camp at 10:00, this was the plan. I had 6 miles to the border and then another 9 miles to the parking lot at Manning Park. I figured I’d spend 1-2 hours at the border taking photos and hanging out. When I left my tent that Sunday morning and saw fresh snow on the mountain tops, I knew it was my time to end this hike. This is it, the time is right. Let’s go to Canada, Toe Touch, let’s get the F out of here!

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I got to the Monument and there were at least 10 people there already. Pretty loud group. I thought a lot about what it would feel like to see the monument. I envisioned it often on my boring days in Northern California and Oregon. When I did, I would tear up. Surely the same would happen on the actual day. Nope.

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The rain had stopped, and it wasn’t a bad morning at all once I got moving. I got to the Monument and really didn’t feel much of anything. The crowd of people and fair weather definitely dimmed any deep emotion I thought I’d have, but I didn’t even feel heavy joy. It felt like another goal achieved, like I had made it to my next resupply point. “Time for pizza and a stop at the market, then back to the trail!” I sat staring at the monument, smiling and boiling water for a celebratory vodka hot chocolate. Don’t get me wrong, I was HAPPY. Very much so. But I’ve had more joyful moments on the trail. This realization made me even happier…

What I’ve come up with is this: the reason I didn’t feel such an overwhelming amount of accomplishment in reaching the border is because I celebrated everyday as such. Every night before bed I’d reflect on the day and give myself a huge high-five, almost not believing where I started that morning. Each morning felt like a lifetime ago. Each day I stayed present and enjoyed all of the little things, and by the time I was ready to camp, I was so fulfilled and felt so accomplished. Each morning I woke up with purpose, with excitement, with gratitude.

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Its cliche, but it’s worth noting, the joy is in the journey. If my only motivation to do the PCT was to reach Canada, I would have quit long ago. Most did. You need more than an extrinsic motivator. I reached Canada having fun the whole way because my primary goals were in the process and learning experiences of the trail. Canada was secondary. I enjoyed the little things along the way, I enjoyed the physical abuse, I enjoyed the self-development, I enjoyed mastering my own mind, I enjoyed the connections, I enjoyed the scenery, I enjoyed the simple life. And damnit, I enjoyed the weather. And if I didn’t enjoy it, I learned from it. I spent the summer investing in myself, and I came out of it a much better version of myself. The joy is in the journey.

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Emotionally charged post coming soon.

 

 

 

September.

Day: 147

Mile: 2,390.6

Location: Snoqualmie Pass, Washington

Avocados: 54 (they’re expensive up here!)

Showers: 33

“It’s the hard parts that make it so great.” Right? RIGHT?!?!

Could have used a rain jacket. Could have used some rain paints. Could have used an extra set of extremities.

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When buying gear for this hike I looked into many rain jackets and noticed a theme: the more expensive the jacket, the worse the reviews. I gave up and told myself I’d buy a rain jacket when I got closer to the Northwest. Never got around to it. Oops.

I joined the Warriors for pizza on our last night in Packwood and I listened to their stories on the lovely topic of “the coldest you’ve ever been.” This proved to be an extremely helpful pizza party because this week I was really cold, but not even close to what those guys have been through, thus telling myself “you’ll be fine” more easily and actually believing it. I got back on trail Tuesday around noon. A trail angel named Holly gave me a ride back to the trailhead. Holly was in town shuttling hikers back and forth and thus gaining first-hand info from us to use towards her thruhike next year (excellent research strategy). Tons of enthusiasm that Holly, she was awesome.

How many thruhikers does it take to perform a common household chore?

How many thruhikers does it take to perform a common household chore? SOMEONE CLOSE THE BLIND, I CANT SEEEEE

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I had quite a heavy pack this time. I had 100 miles to hike and with the increasing elevation gain, colder temps, and bad weather, I needed more food. I also wasn’t sure how fast I was going to go, so instead of packing for 3 nights, I grabbed some pathetic looking oats from the hiker box in case I needed 4 nights to get to Snoqualmie. Unfortunately my pack didn’t get much lighter as I ate the food because with the rainy weather all my gear became water-logged.

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Anybody lose their frying pans?

It was cloudy out, but it stayed dry as I hiked 20 miles to camp. As I set up my tent in a tiny opening in a cluster of trees, it began to rain. Got really lucky with that one! It rained the rest of the night but all my stuff stayed dry so the morning wasn’t too terrible.

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I left a few notes on the trees outside my tent for the Warriors to see in the morning. As I was shuffling around my tent I heard Rant and so he came over to chat for a bit. He hiked ahead as I finally got myself to get out of my tent and take it down. There is nothing worse than taking down a wet tent when you can’t feel your hands. Nothing.

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I caught up to Rant a few miles later and we hiked to Chinook Pass together. He and the Warriors are on the Combat War Vets sponsored hike so they had a meeting at the VFW in a town off Chinook Pass. At this point it was wet, cold, and really hopeless looking. I considered hitching into a town and waiting out the worst of the rain, and then realized if I did that I wouldn’t finish this trail until 2017. So as Rant hitched into town for a hot cocoa, burger, and shelter, I hiked up Crystal Mountain and was rewarded with no view. But first, I took a picture of Rant taking his weekly selfie.

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The rest of the day was actually pretty okay. Intermittent showers. Whenever it WASN’T raining I was so hopeful. I was so happy. I was so confident. Hiking was fun! Then it would start raining 5 minutes later and I would consider eating the red berries for a quicker death. Sounds extreme, but don’t say the weather hasn’t ever had an immediate impact on your mood.

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The last 2 hours of the day it stopped raining and I was so grateful. I hiked until 7, pulled my wet tent out of my outside pocket, and set it up. Bad news, the whole tent was soaked. In a frenzy that morning I rolled the wetness into itself, now the whole inside was drenched. I didn’t have anything dry to wipe it down with (I forgot to pack out my beach towel) so I took a semi-dry bandana and gave it my all. I then laid out a garbage bag and a few other semi-dry items and topped it with my sleeping pad. I mistakenly threw in my soaking wet backpack inside my tent down towards my feet (like I always do, because it’s always been dry). It was a rough night. It didn’t rain tooooo badly, but it was so damp inside my tent that in the middle of the night I woke up to boil water. Another phrase I’ll never use lightly again is “chilled to the bone.” I was chilled to the bone. I wasn’t surprised though, I was sleeping inside a wet tent, in a damp sleeping bag, with my feet resting on a soaking wet pack. I also had to watch every movement because everything surrounding my sleeping pad was wet, there was no time for trail nightmares tonight toe touch! If you even as much as SKIM the wall of your tent you’ll die of hypothermia! Die!

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So where are we? Oh yes, 2:30Am. I boiled water, poured it into my water bottle, and threw it in my sleeping bag for my feet to play around with. It was heaven. I had a handful of almonds to aid in the warming process and fell back asleep. I woke up, stared at my wet ceiling, and geared myself up for another day. You know what the worst sequence of events is?

1. Sitting up

2. Changing from dry clothes into wet clothes

3. Putting on heavy, sopping socks

4. Putting on soaked sneaks

5. Taking the first step in your wet gear

6. Unbuckling your rain fly when you can’t feel your hands (I’ll save you the rant)

7. Handling your metal tent poles when you can’t feel your hands

8. Shoving your wet tent in your wet bag

9. Realizing you haven’t even pooped yet

The most difficult part of the week was knowing it was projected to get worse and worse. Wednesday was not suppose to rain until the evening. Thursday was suppose to be on and off. But Friday? Friday was suppose to rain, and then rain some more. Saturday was the light at the end of the tunnel, cold and rainy morning, but possible sun if you stick it out that long to experience it.

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Back to sleeping like a mummy!

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I woke up Friday ready and excited for a wet n’ wild day! Woooo! Whatcha got Washington! It was really cold, but didn’t start raining until 5 miles in (right around the time I start to gain strength back in my hands). I hiked the morning with a young married couple from South Africa, Hiccup and Flapjack and we stopped at a really random cabin in the woods. I first met these guys early on in the desert so it was great to see them. They mistakenly bumped up their cold weather gear so I’m not sure how they made it through that section in shorts. Insane. Once it stopped pouring I began to hike again and 5 minutes later it started raining again. Oh well, I tried.

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Friday, oh, Friday. Rain, cold, climbing. You know who was MVP of Friday? Roger. After hiking at an incredibly consistent pace (the grade didn’t matter, I actually probably hiked faster up the mountains than down) for nearly 6 hours, I stopped suddenly in my tracks. I crossed an unpaved forest service road and there was a big truck and canopy set up. I couldn’t see people, but I saw hiker poles laid out in the rain, good indicator. I peaked my head around the wall and saw 4 hikers huddled around a fire and then a guy named Roger. “Want a hot drink?” He laughs, as if it’s not even a question. Who would deny a hot drink? I don’t even need flavor Roger! Gimme hot water! First I’ll pour it all over my body, then I’ll chug it. I mean, hot cocoa please!image

He had a table of fresh fruit and was making hot drinks for us. He kept the fire going and it took a lot of discipline not to throw myself in it. I knew Gumby and Indie, 2 females hiking together since the Sierra, and then I met 2 new guys, Lawless and Crafty. Gumby and Indie decided to spend the night there by the fire and under the tarp, but the guys headed out for more miles, and I followed suit. Roger is an engineer living in the Seattle area and was out here because it was “something he’s always wanted to do.” We told stories around the fire, thanked Roger incessantly, and I watched as Indie lit a hole in her sock drying by the fire and laughing about it. “Ohhhh welp there goes that!” Laughter is the best way out of misery.

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I went another 6 miles and set up camp around 7 again. I did a better job packing up my tent that morning so it wasn’t completely soaked. The bad part was that I gathered water and decided to hike another 2 miles. I didn’t realize it’d be up a mountain. It was good to get my blood flowing again, but bad because I was now looking to spend the night 1,000 feet higher up than I should have been. Cold. It was windy, dark, rainy, and I pitched my tent on what I prayed was an “abandoned” unpaved rocky forest service road. Everything about it was dangerous and creepy. The last line in my journal entry reads..”I’m scared.” Hahaha. Another solid end of the day by Toe Touch.

Doom&Gloom

Doom&Gloom

I slept warmer that night because I stuffed myself in a garbage bag before stuffing myself in my damp sleeping bag: success! I also had a weird quinoa Mac n’ Cheese for dinner, so my tummy was warm and happy. Oh, and a pink frosted sugar cookie! Gas station special!

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I woke up on Saturday having 26 miles until my resupply point: Snoqualmie Pass, a ski resort with a motel and gas station. I decided that if I stayed dry, I would take it easy and camp a few miles from “town.” If I remained soaked, I was high tailing it to town. Luckily, 6 miles into my morning, I crossed another unpaved road and found Brian. Brian’s wife, ALTA (an acronym for “At Least Till Ashland”) is thru-hiking and since he just retired, is driving the camper up the country and making her dinner every 3-4 days when they meet-up. It’s adorable. It was a really cold morning, I tried eating an apple but I kept dropping it. My grip strength was pathetically low. When I saw Brian he said the sweetest of phrases “Coffee Bars Open!” I started cheering, I don’t care how embarrassing I looked, I was so happy. It was good coffee too, I even grinded up the beans in his Java Mill. Best on trail coffee, hands down.

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Naturally, after Brian told me it was going to 100% rain all day, the sun came out. I hung around for over an hour, dried out my tent and jacket, and we listened to a baseball game on his satellite radio. Pals. As he handed me my coffee he so carefully made, he said “oh! And one more thing….BISCOTTI!” He whipped it out from behind his back with such enthusiasm I began cheering again. Boy did we have a great time. His wife is a day behind me and unfortunately I haven’t met her yet, but with her being so close I hope to see them both again! As I packed up my stuff I asked if I could do anything for him for such an amazing cup of coffee, biscotti, and sleeve of Oreos, and he said yes, yes I could. “I do this for the same reasons I worked as an Emergency Room Nurse for over 30 years, I do it to help people, and the only payment I take is a smile.” So I smiled as big as I could and jetted off! Before I was out of ear shot he said hey Toe touch! You smell that? “No Brian, what’s that smell?” “CANADA!” haha, and I disappeared into the woods, continuing North into the patch of sunshine.

Using Brian's truck as a drying line

Using Brian’s truck as a drying line

I stayed dry the rest of the day. I hiked slow because I didn’t want to get too close to civilization too early, because then I wouldn’t be able to resist the temptation. In an incredible act of self-restraint, I set up camp early, only 3 miles from the pass. I took my time hiking, I actually stopped and picked berries and put them in a bag. Usually I just do a drive-by trying to pick them without ever slowing my perpetual motion. I sat on a rock and took a few deep breathes and enjoyed the quiet. I set up camp, made oatmeal, broke my spoon, and laid there so comfortably. I was warm, I was fed, I was so grateful for Roger and Brian helping me through this miserable weather, and I had plans to meet Camel for Breakfast at the Pancake House in the morning. I wasn’t scared anymore, I made it! What an incredible week to look back on, it’s been awhile since I did 4 nights without a resupply. Also kind of crazy that doing a marathon day after day weighted down constitutes my version of “taking it easy.” How normal this life has become.

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Sad day. I found this spoon in the hiker box at the most questionable “Trail Angels” compound in early May. RIP.

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I feel like getting to Snoqualmie Pass is a big accomplishment for Northbounders. We are about halfway through Washington, and the next 270 miles are said to be stunning (and thus extremely difficult). We are entering the Northern Cascades. The weather has turned on, so we will continue to do our best to co-exist with the low temps and rain, hoping to be granted as many views as the clouds will allow. As I hiked down to the Pass I felt such a large feeling of achievement, and I realized that from here on out I will be getting snippets of what Canada will feel like. Getting so close.

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Sucker cloud

Sucker cloud

The overall motivation level here amongst the hikers is low. Camel said it best, “I feel like a super-senior, doing whatever I can to stay in towns longer, like failing bowling 101.” Again, motivation is low. The weather is making things much tougher on us. Sure, we expected this, but it doesn’t make it easier. The positive I draw from it is how much easier it will make the end. I surely won’t miss it as much as I would if I glided to the finish amongst the soft sun and butterflies. It’s always an easier break-up when your boyfriend is an asshole towards the end, right? So thank you, Washington, for making it easier on us, in the long-term at least.

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To be honest, there were plenty of times I loved the misery of the weather. I felt pretty wild as I hiked through it and really strong as I tried to figure out ways to stay warm. I wouldn’t last longer than 5 minutes on one of those survivor shows, but I was really proud of myself for how I stuck it out. I didn’t even shed  a tear, just laughter. When things get really bad, laughter is my only way out. Yeah, I wouldn’t last very long on those survivor shows, mostly because I wouldn’t pass the psych test.

One reason I wanted to do the PCT, and a motivating component in which keeps me going, is delayed gratification. I love going a long time without daily occurrences. The gratification for these things is tripled when you are cold and wet for 4 days. Hands wrapped around a hot mug of coffee after a 100 mile stretch like that one? No greater feeling.

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Rumor has it we have one more storm and then a dry couple of weeks. I’ll take it. If you are a meteorologist or psychic and want to tell me otherwise, go for it. For once I am choosing to 100% believe in this rumor. After a shower, laundry, and a quality burger, my world has been turned around. I am excited to get back out there and hike with the elements again. I know I’ll get wet and my hands will be frozen to my trekking poles once more, but my confidence is high and this stretch is only 70 miles. 70 miles! A breeze!

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Goat Rocks: Photo Gallery

The Goat Rocks Wilderness area is so beautiful that it’s getting its own platform. As I traveled through the 30+ mile stretch I quickly realized how influential each mile would be. I was left speechless for the first time since the Sierra. I paused several times per minute allowing myself to breathe it all in – my eyes and smile wider than Washington. I was awe struck. I felt really small again, really insignificant, and really humbled. I wanted to experience it all; I never wanted it to end. The Goat Rocks are a magical place and I want to take everyone for a hike there, I want everyone to be impacted by the emotion I felt all day, I want everyone to smile that wide. Christmas morning, it was like Christmas morning.

Note: I saw no goats, but did see tons of rocks. Not the outcome I was hoping for but 1 outta 2 aint bad!

My next section is 100 miles to Snoqualmie Pass and it is looking quite wet. Washington is also entirely uphill. I feel good besides soreness in my feet each morning and the tingling of my nerves in my back. I just bought one of those stupid emergency ponchos and the cook at the pizza place gave me a trash bag. I may or may not be back after 100 miles. In the meantime, enjoy the photos! Toe Touch: out.

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This is Half-ass, he asked me to sign his flag. He started off my day

This is Half-ass, he asked me to sign his flag. He started off my day

Mt. Adams shooting off laser beams

Mt. Adams shooting off laser beams

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Eating some goldfish, staring at Mount St. Helens

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I took this same photo 5 years ago

I took this same photo 5 years ago

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The Knifes Edge

The Knifes Edge

Rainier

Rainier

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Camped on the windy rocky ridge

Camped on the windy rocky ridge

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Sunset

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Sunrise

Morning light

Sunrise

Sunrise

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Exit:California

Day: 108

Location: Noble Coffee Roasting, Ashland, Oregon (!)

Mile: 1,716.2

Avocado Count: 44

Shower Count: 24

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Adios monster state! The last 220 miles of California were amazing. I left Shasta on a Tuesday afternoon, hitching a ride with the daughter of the mother who drove me INTO Mt. Shasta. What are the odds! Fabulous family, that momma raised her daughter right!

I left Shasta really excited to get back on trail. After spending 3 nights in a motel room I was feeling spoiled and undeserving of all the luxuries, it was time to get back to the dirt n’ vert and earn my next town stop. I was given antibiotics for my kidney infection and they started working right away. They made me nauseous every morning but I never actually threw up, so it was a success. The amount of probiotics I stuffed my face with was outrageous. I was scared of any side effect, and since I haven’t been too responsible about filtering my water, I didn’t want my gut to be filled with bad and weak bacteria. I needed only the good and strong bacteria in there! So after many grass-fed yogurt, raw sauerkraut, and kombucha parties, I got back to hiking.

Phew, just in time!

Phew, just in time!

I would have left a day earlier if someone didn’t charge $110 to a Party City in Illinois on my credit card. The lady with Chase shut it down immediately and I started crying on the phone saying she needed to reactivate it because that was my only source of money. “I’ll pay for the fraudulent party!” I cried out to her with no luck. With $29 in cash, and still needing to resupply for the next section, I would have been a very, very undernourished hiker. I cried and cried and she didn’t budge. “it’s for your personal protection, Ms. McCloskey, this is for your personal protection.” BUT I NEED FOOD. hah! I calmed down and we came up with a solution, she would overnight my new card to my current motel and I would pray it would get there in time…oh, and that the owners of the motel didn’t mind. Everything worked out, and I now have access to my bank account again :).  I hope that Illinois thief at least threw a killer party.

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Real world stress. How do you guys do it everyday? Man, one problem with my credit card and I was in tears. You go from floating through the wilderness everyday and then you get to town, switch your phone on, and are immediately flooded with responsibilities. It’s usually all fun and good responsibilities, but when it involves finances and being on the phone with major companies? Awful, hats off to you all living the life of a civilian, I clearly cannot handle it.

All I need

All I need

California toes

California toes

Back at it! A little climb out of town and I ran into Wood-Rat and Gal Pal (a favorite trail name). They are all over the place hiking southbound. This is my second time running into them and we actually stood in the middle of the trail for a half hour chatting. None of us even took off our packs. It was a great reintroduction to the trail after being off of it for 3 days. I was gaining more confidence with every step and after 10 miles tossed up my tent. The next day is when I had my moment. My moment of “yes, this feels right, this feels fun.” I took a selfie so I would remember that moment forever and ever. I gave a loud shout off the ridge, don’t ask me what noise I made, or what words came out, because I honestly don’t remember. I just remember the feeling of joy.

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This whole section was a lot of steep climbs to ridges that left you breathless. Up 1200′ down 1200′. The whole week felt like a rollercoaster. Winding in and out of forests to tops of ridgelines overlooking bright blue lakes. It was incredible. I have a deep respect for areas that make you earn their views. At the time I was cursing their name, but now, I love them for it. Trinity Alps Wilderness –> Russian Wilderness –> Marble Mountain Wilderness. A hell of a trio to cruise through and finish up the tallest state on the flippin’ planet. Averaging 29 miles a day, my blisters started to subside, my feet were no longer sore, and I started gaining a lot of rhythm, I was groovin’ my way to the state border!

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Indian Paintbrush, my favorite wildflower! State flower of?!?!? WYOMING!

Indian Paintbrush, my favorite wildflower! State flower of?!?!? WYOMING!

Aftet 100 miles I stopped in Etna for lunch. It’s known to be a hard hitch because there is no traffic on the road and the town is 13 miles away. After 45 minutes a car came by and the 8 of us jumped up and stuck out our thumbs. It was the only action of the hour! He stopped and Monique (NZ) and Bert (Belgium) squeezed in the back of his pick-up and fortunately, a much nicer vehicle stopped right after him and fit 4 of us in his truck. Etna is a tiny old mining town, I couldn’t wait to explore it’s character. I went to the café on the corner, got some lunch and then hit up the market because I was short a days worth of food. The same guy caught me as I was leaving the market and offered me a ride back up to the trail, score!

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Bert is a tall fella, he did not enjoy this seat very much

Bert is a tall fella, he did not enjoy this seat very much

I hiked the rest of the day with Maui (known for hiking in board shorts) and Juice (electrical engineer). It was today where I met a lot of the people that I’d be surrounded by the next several days. It was a fun group, and it’s always good to get acquainted as quickly as possible because you pass each other so frequently throughout the day. Also, it’s nice to hear a “ohhhh WUDD-UP toe touch!” instead of more introductions. Familiar faces are a really, really, helpful sight out here. Any break from being inside my mind is welcomed, I’m starting to drive myself crazy. By the way if anyone has too many things to think about, let me know. Outsource your thoughts to me, you won’t regret it. I’ll report back with a thorough analysis.

I'm in the weeds!

I’m in the weeds!

Trail?

Trail?

No one actually needs water here, we just want to sit and hang

No one actually needs water here, we just want to sit and hang

Seiad (sigh-ad) Valley is a town of 350, and fun fact from Early Bird and the Worm (awesome couple from Manitoba), its own state. They are too cool for California so they decided to be the State of Jefferson. 51 states folks, we got 51 states! Seiad Valley is literally on the PCT, you leave the forest and walk 6.4 miles along a paved road and pick berries to keep you from wanting to kill yourself. You finally hit “town” and it’s one of the best feelings in the world. “Town” is a café, post office, and general store — all in the same building. It’s exactly how all of America should be in my opinion, need we more? After walking the road with Monique and Bert, I saw Early Bird and the Worm at the café and immediately sat down and ordered coffee. They had milkshakes and coffee and were awaiting their egg, bacon and pancake breakfasts. I couldn’t have been happier.

The paved PCT

The paved PCT

Blackberries and raspberries!

Blackberries and raspberries!

Early bird and the worm!

Early bird and the Worm!

The café is famous for its Pancake Challenge, 5 Pancakes, all 1lb. each. 5 pounds of Pancakes, does everyone else’s stomach hurt from the thought? No hiker has won the challenge in 8 years, and no human has completed it in 4. I love pancakes; if I knew I was going to die within the next 5 minutes I would probably order a tall stack and go out with a bang. CityTime has been talking about doing this challenge for the last 300 miles. His confidence was high, and although I wasn’t there to see it, he said he ate 3 out of the 5 pounds. He got to take the rest of the pancakes back to the RV park (3 steps away from the tri-building) and ate the rest for dinner. He was really proud of himself, but even seeing him the day after he was still rubbing his stomach and moaning. I remember working at the Bunnery and my friend was scraping off a customers plate and the pancakes just stuck to it when she flipped the plate upside down. She was like “look Jules, these things don’t even budge when I wave around the plate, can you imagine what they are doing to the inside of your stomach?” We shared a good laugh, and as I still enjoy a good pancake from time to time, I did not attempt the pancake challenge. No one else I knew did the challenge, but everyone ate themselves to sickness at that café. A bunch of hikers were just laying around too full to function, let alone hike. It was an all to familiar sight, but that’s part of the thru-hiking culture. We hike so much, and burn so many calories, that we cannot control ourselves when we get to town. When you have fresh food AND someone else cooking it for you, you tend to go all out. It’s one perk of this life for sure, being able to get away with eating a lot of junk in the short-term. But thinking about the long-term possible effects? Bad news bears.

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After breakfast I scooted over to the post office and received a couple packages and letters from family and friends! I got a few snacks for the road and hung out at the picnic tables with the other hikers. The climb out of Seiad Valley, ohhhhh the climb out of Seiad Valley. I heard about (and contributed to) it all week. 4,500′ in 8 miles, completely exposed. I think I was the only person looking forward to it. It was 2:30, 99 degrees, and as I packed up my stuff everybody looked at me like I was a lunatic. No one else planned to leave until at least 5:00. I couldn’t help myself, I was really excited for it and I’m not good at sitting around, so I left. It was a sick form of fun, I loved it. I cruised up the trail sweating more than I have all summer. I pitched my tent on a really windy ridge, being careful to pin down my stuff so none of it flew away. I knew the wind would die down with the sun, so I stuck it out. It was my last night in California and I wanted it to be epic.

Good thing it was partly cloudy!

Good thing it was partly cloudy!

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'Mornin'

Mornin’

26 miles to Oregon! You couldn’t get me there fast enough. I got to the border and saw Donna Saufley (a trail angel who runs Hiker Heaven way back in SoCal!) I stayed at her house back in April and it was cool to see her out here finishing up a large section of the trail! After a huge photo-shoot I hiked 4 more miles and celebrated Oregon with a boxed pie I picked up in Seiad Valley and a nip of vodka I’ve been carrying for quite some time. First sleep in Oregon!

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Donna Saufley! A trail angel legend!

Donna Saufley! A trail angel legend!

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Oregon!

Oregon!

I woke up super early (for me). I was 25 miles from Ashland, the most anticipated trail town on my list. I was in such a good mood that I fired up some coffee as I packed my things, something I have only done 3 times all summer and WOW is hiking easier when fully caffienated. I had one sip and poured the rest in my Gatorade bottle for the road. 9 hours later, I took my final sip. Coffee over the course of 25 miles rules. It was 5:30am when hikers started passing my campsite, I was shouting “good morning, welcome to Oregon!” to all my friends who camped a mile or 2 back. You should have seen the gusto we all hiked with that day. There was about 8 of us, and we were flying. With 11 miles left there was a cooler of trail magic! All different flavors of soda that we dove into. We took a break, chugged down the carbonated goodness, and resumed our stride. We were all so happy and made it to the highway by 2:30pm. It was one of my favorite days on trail.

My fancy snobbish instant coffee that makes me FLY

My fancy snobbish instant coffee that makes me FLY

Water tied to a tree, don't mind if I do!

Water tied to a tree, don’t mind if I do!

Monique and Bert enjoying some cola!

Monique and Bert enjoying some cola! And chairs!

The hitch into Ashland took about 30 minutes, and it was a hot 30 minutes! Finally, Ray pulled over and completely reorganized his truck to fit me in. He was coming back from a camping trip and boy was he fully stocked. I sat in the passenger seat with my feet hoisted up on bags of rocks. Ray is a geologist and is in between projects, so he was out collecting rocks for fun. He even gave me a tour of Ashland before dropping me at the motel, which was awesome! I love getting a local tour, so many fun facts! That day I only had 2 energy bars to eat, it was the last of my food so you can say I probably didn’t pack enough. But it didn’t matter how hungry I was because Ray took me to all the parks and told me about lithia water and the Shakesspeare Festival and more fun facts about rocks. He even gave me his Geologist business card and told me to call him if I needed a ride anywhere around town. Basically, Ray is such a nice guy and offered to be my personal tour guide of Ashland for my short stay. Gosh I love the people I’ve met during this hike.

Lithia water fountains! So cool

Lithia water fountains! So cool

Southern Oregon University

Southern Oregon University

I have hit my rhythm and my body feels great, but I didn’t want to push my luck so I still took a zero (day-off) in Ashland. It’s been phenomenal. I walked downtown and went into every cafe, store, library, and market. I ate a ton of healthy food and a ton of butter. Perfect. Oregon is said to be a really fast section because it finally flattens out. I’ll be the judge of that. I just bought new shoes and only have 2 minor blisters to doctor up each morning. I have what I think is nerve damage in my right shoulder, it’s been in pain since May — only hurting when my pack is at a certain weight so I am really trying to keep it light, because well, it hurts. The shoulder pain is something I plan on getting checked out right after the trail, but it’s obviously been tolerable up until this point so I’ve just been doing what I can to not make it worse.

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Life is good when your day ends at a lake

I am so excited for the state change, and I’m not alone. The entries in the trail register at the border all basically say the same thing…”California I love you, but enough already, can’t wait for Oregon!” That made me feel better because I felt guilty sometimes dreaming of Oregon while still hiking through California. “Love the one your with!” Right? hah anyways, the mosquitoes are raging here in Oregon but other than that I am 100% looking forward to the change in trail and all the stops along the way! Holy cow, I can’t believe I walked the length of California, who does that?

For everyone following closely along, here is an update on the Mile 55 Crew:

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Spoon and Chuckles are still eating brunch where we last camped together, mile 968.4 – Smedberg Lake. Spoon is continuing to make his argument that the lake is in fact, Jewish, while Chuckles knows it’s probably true but plays devils advocate just for good conversation. They are on their 159th bowl of granola.

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Centerfold has returned to Southern California after a major relapse in his Cactus Cooler addiction. Cactus Cooler is an orange-pineapple flavored soda found only in Southern California, and Centerfold has been the companies only customer this year after discovering it in a trail magic cooler in the desert. He also has a package at HikerTown that he needs to go back and grab, gosh, what a burden he was that day.

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Camel has awkwardly configured his tall lean body to fit the only shade offered in Northern California. When not taking a nap on trail, you can find him in theatres across trail towns, watching Finding Dory for the 3rd, 4th, 5th….time.

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Both Centerfolds and Camels ego have taken a major blow by not being able to catch the girl who was peeing blood. To gain back some grit, they are meeting each other back at Mile 55 where they will hike it one more time, totaling more PCT miles than anyone else on trail.

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Clearly, I miss them a whole lot, but this solo experience has been an incredible growth period and I know, when the time is right, that I’ll hear our call from behind. And then hugs, lots of hugs. Maybe even one for Chuckles.

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Okay fine seriously?

Spoon/Chuckles: 1 week behind

Centerfold: 3-4 days behind

Camel: a few hours behind (dun dun dunnnn)

Halfway Point!

Location: in my tent, overwhelmed with the fear a mountain lion is circling me

Miles: 1,328

Avocado Count: 38

Shower Count: 20

Note: This is my first post written uncaffeinated, but with the mountain lion activity around here my adrenaline is pumping so I’ll probably still write with the same energy level.

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Who told me it got easier after the Sierra? And why did I believe them?

The mileage has gone up, and just like us American women say in the real world — 30 is the new 20! The past couple weeks I’ve been aiming for 28-30 miles per day. They haven’t been easy. Long steep climbs, overgrown brush, fallen trees and poison oak (another peril of the trail that I have successfully ignored, for now). But no snow. Well, one cute little patch, but that was it. It’s amazing how many miles you can accomplish in a day when you can SEE and FEEL the trail!

This is Jugs. He carries gallons of water and an unreal amount of gear. He is old and tiny, and I am SO glad to hear he made it through the Sierra!

This is Jugs. He carries gallons of water and an unreal amount of gear. He is old, tiny, and wears jean shorts and I am SO glad to hear he made it through the Sierra! I haven’t seen him since the early desert.

I left South Lake Tahoe on a Thursday afternoon and caught a ride with a 2015 PCT thru-hiker that currently lives in town. It was a great ride back to the trail and he was the first person to tell me that NorCal is steep. I met him for 15 minutes and he’s already been more truthful than everyone else! Thanks again Clay! He dropped me off at Echo Lake where there is a little store. First thought that came to mind: Ice cream? It’s 5pm, I’m about to hike a lazy evening of garbage miles, I should have ice cream.

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I saw a couple guys I knew getting dropped off at the same time, Siri and The Prodigy (no explanation needed, the guy can move). We hiked together that night for about 10 miles along Echo Lake and down past Aloha Lake. It was unbelievably gorgeous, and the sun setting just made life even more adorably perfect. The sugar rush wore off so I set up camp around 8:00 as the boys pushed on. All 3 of us oddly enough had packages in Truckee, and we needed to get there between 11-2 on Saturday if we wanted the Post Office doors to be open. We were in for what can only be labeled as a, wait, are you ready for it? You sure? “Big Day.”

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As I got reorganized in my tent and cooked up some dinner, I looked at the mileage. I was off by over 10 miles. Truckee was farther than I thought. I should have started hiking earlier today instead of putzing around and eating ice cream, I should have hiked more miles. I set myself up for failure. Perfect. My attitude shifted quickly, what a challenge that lay before me! I woke up and did some quick math, I had 30 hours to hike 53 miles. After a good laugh at how miserable that sounded, I hit the ground running. The plan? Hike for as long as I can stand today, try to sleep at least 6 hours, and start hiking by 5am the next morning. Easy. Not.

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The day started with a climb up Dicks Pass, getting lost in the snowy descent, and then making a wrong turn at a trail junction, thus adding 1.5 miles to my, remember? “Big Day.” That was rough, total mental fluster, I was so mad at myself. WHY AREN’T I BETTER AT THIS BY NOW. I should have been more focused, but I wasn’t and I needed to make up that time. Luckily, the next 10 miles were relatively flat, and flooded with mosquitoes. You wanna hike fast? Surround yourself with blood-sucking devils, you’ll pee your pants before you’d think to stop. The only time I stopped was because my stomach was growling for my avocado. I took a chance and stopped to eat it. Regret. I almost threw my avocado at the black swarm. I was so frustrated I couldn’t get 2 minutes to sit in peace. I’m ashamed to say, that was the last avocado I’ve eaten.

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So the 4:00 hour hits and I get myself to a trailhead where I see Bear Claw (she packs out pastries from every town stop 👍👌) and Lemonade. I met these guys after the descent of Glen Pass back in the middle of June. We officially became friends when we hiked up Donohue Pass together before entering Yosemite. During our ascent of Donohue Pass we exchanged comparable sarcastic glances at one another as we listened to a group of JMT’ers (John Muir Trail hikers) tell us how dangerous Donohue Pass was and that they could NOT, with a CLEAR CONCIOIUS tell us to go over it at this point in the day (it was 3:30). They took it a step further and told us there was even SNOW on the OTHER side! Oh boy! We were so respectful, so polite, and totally told them we would discuss it and probably take their word for it and tackle the pass in the morning when the snow is harder. Once they were out of earshot we couldn’t stop ourselves, really? It was cute in a way, it was their first mountain pass, first experience in the snow, and clearly, they were overwhelmed by the whole experience. 3 hours later, we were up and down the thing happily trotting towards camp all in agreement that was the easiest pass of the Sierra. And that those poor JMT’ers are realllyyyyy in for it with what lay up ahead for them hah! Point being, Bear Claw, Lemonade and I are on the same page, so seeing them during this “Big Day” was really valuable. They are the coolest couple because they live in San Francisco and have big kid jobs but are taking a leave of absence to thru-hike the PCT. They are engaged and getting married THIS week in a small trail town. They invited me and you can bet your buttons my mind has been swirling and whirling with ideas on how to make that happen. And what on earth I would wear.

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After seeing Bear Claw and Lemonade, I felt reenergized. They told me they knew I could do it and when I went to respond I sputtered out “yeah, yeah I can do this but…” I hesitated as I tried to fight off the negativity about to spill out, because the truth is I knew I COULD do it, hey, I believe in myself, how could I not at this point? So as I hesitated I looked at Lemonade who I knew would finish my thought for me, and right on cue he spilled…”but it’s gonna suck.” Spot.On. And suck, it did. I still felt reenergized by them and it was also nice because I hadn’t seen any other PCT’ers all day and I was beginning to think I made another wrong turn. I hiked 12 more miles that night. Up switchbacks and onto a ridge and across a ski resort? Yeah, definitely chairlifts popped out of nowhere, it was awesome. The ridge line was incredible, it was breezy, mosquito free, and the sunset was out of this world. As rushed as I felt, I took a break to sit down and take it all in. I stopped hiking at 10:00, set up my tent, cooked my dinner, patted myself on the back, and passed.out. I hiked 37 miles in 15 hours. I woke up at 5, almost collapsed on my first steps because my feet were so sore, and hiked the remaining 15 miles by noon.

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It wasn’t easy. I was in a lot of pain. Towards the end of the 37 mile day my shin was in extreme pain. Sharp, sharp pains, mostly on the downhills and flat parts. The next morning, I could barely hike. It was an obvious limp, so obvious that I was honestly embarrassed, but I couldn’t walk right, it hurt too badly. In my mind, my left leg was broken, shattered to pieces I tell ya! Ship me home to New York! Someone activate their SPOT device, we need a helicopter! Stick a fork in her PCT, this Toe Touch is cooked!

Long saga short, I had type-Hell shin splints. For the next 200 miles, I would limp. For the next 200 miles I would plan my speech for why I couldn’t finish the PCT. For the next 200 miles I would feel my bones crumbling underneath my skin. For the next 200 miles I would be extremely dramatic. For the next 200 miles I inhaled turmeric, coconut oil, sardines, magnesium, and collagen. And for the next 200 miles I would be 100% McCloskey: not rest, up my mileage, quicken my pace, and tell myself to hike through it. Mission accomplished. If someone taught me how to sit still while growing up, maybe I would have handled this differently. But no one did, so I kept moving.

My after dinner drink, "Golden Milk" (coconut milk powder & turmeric)

My after dinner drink, “Golden Milk” (coconut milk powder & turmeric)

I made it to Truckee with an hour to spare. I got my new shoes! Did I mention I did that little adventure in garbage shoes? If not, I did that section in garbage shoes, feel bad for me feel bad for me! People are dying of hunger and I hiked a section with worn down shoes, good grief.

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I celebrated my victory at the CoffeeBar and then hitched a ride back up to Donnor Pass. An on-call nurse picked me up and fed me sugar cubes (yes, like a horse) and we chatted and joked and listened to Howard Stern radio during the quiet moments. She ruled.

The following morning I hiked (well I TRIED to keep up with) a guy named John Z. He passed me and I took one look at his backpack and asked if he was a thru-hiker. He laughed and said yeah of course. I was like well sir, you’re backpack is smaller then the one I used in High School, do you sleep in a hammock or something? He laughed again at my ignorance, but in my defense, his backpack was TINY for a thru-hiker, and not an ITEM on the outside of it. He must not eat, sleep, or drink water. After limping after him to ask more questions we actually had a great conversation. But seriously guys, his backpack — I’m talking like maybe one U.S. history textbook, a 5-subject notebook, and of course, a planner. Turns out he’s really good at this, and hikes 50-60 mile days. I doubt he even pees.

The next few days were pretty solo, with little encounters here and there. The views were gorgeous and it was definitely one of my favorite sections of the whole trail. The wild flowers are in bloom and are everywhere!

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I got into Sierra City around lunchtime and picked up my packages after lunch at the Red Moose Cafe (moose lore everywhere, I could of sat there all day). I was pretty beaten up by the last 90 miles and was really excited to open a package from my sister Laura and friend Jeannie. I also got 2 letters from my friend Erin and her mom Terry! Both filled with love and encouraging quotes on the inside and out. Receiving those gifts put my head back in the game, and my heart back in the hike. I saw Bear Claw and Lemonade on the porch and told them I’d catch them wherever they set up camp for the night. I hiked out shortly after them, but my leg hurt so bad I called it quits before I found them. The next couple of days I tried to catch them with no luck, they were consistently 2-3 miles ahead of me. I did however hike with a guy named CityTime (he’s known for his late departures in the morning). CityTime is a climber in Boulder and we hiked a lot of miles together over the next few days. We both decided that we love thru-hiking, but don’t see ourselves doing such a long one again, we miss our other hobbies — for him, rock climbing, for me, running & biking. And we both miss our friends back home, being able to call them up whenever, for whatever (ahem, happy hour). And we also agree on what the hardest part of hiking the PCT is: Taylor Swift not being on Spotify.

Here's CityTime finding extraordinary luck in the garbage can at Belden, new (old) insoles! Same brand and size! Taking #hikertrash to the next level

Here’s CityTime finding extraordinary luck in the garbage can at Belden, new (old) insoles! Same brand and size! Taking #hikertrash to the next level

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My kind of town

My kind of town

After nearly 80 miles or so I finally found Bear Claw and Lemonade! They were sprawled out on a ridge, next to a block a cheese, pretty flustered by last minute wedding logistics. They had service so were trying to do some major brunch problem solving. We caught up for awhile and then finished up our hike together into Belden. Belden is a resort type of thing. It’s not a town. It’s a campground with motel rooms and a restaurant. Belden is weird. What made Belden even weirder was that they were hosting a Burning Man Reunion. When I went to set up my tent a guy stopped me and asked me if I was going all the way to Canada, I said yes, and he gave a big WOOHOO RIGHT ON!!! Then he asked if I wanted a shot, and even though every alarm went off in my head, I said yes. He poured Jameson down my throat and when I dribbled a little he wiped my face with his hand. Belden is weird.

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Bear Claw and Lemonade generously bought pitchers of beer and we cheers’ed to another section completed. I grabbed some more packages and went to my tent to see what I got! One package from my high school friend Kacie, fully equipped with delicious granola, Swedish fish, and this shirt….

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And I got a package from my brother Chris and sister-in-law Kelly. They sent me all local food from their co-op, one of the most touching letters I’ve ever received, pictures of family, and my mom snuck in a new pair of underwear. I was a mess. My leg was still really bad at this point, going on over a week, and just more encouraging gifts from family and friends. I felt like the luckiest girl in the world.

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We climbed out of Belden the next morning after spending the night tripping acid and jumping off rooftops. Okay fine, we went to bed super early and got coffee in the morning, nearly the same thing. It had to be the longest climb of the trail? I don’t know I guess, but it was 5,000′ right out of the gates, and a total of 7,000′ for the day. This climb, this 6-hour vertical hike, stretched out my calf so much that my leg began to heal. The next day was miraculous, definitely tender, but no limp. Oh thank goodness! Thank you PCT for punishing us so much!

My skin is shedding so I thought I'd document it

My skin is shedding so I thought I’d document it

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I lost the other 3 guys during the climb and got to a campsite where a guy by the name of Stoic offered me an Oreo. Done deal, I’m stayin’. Turns out he’s from Syracuse! Really cool guy, he lives in Seattle teaching adult literacy, but for now, he hands out Oreos. Another hiker named Animal was camped there as well, I met him 2 weeks ago at Sonora Pass and noticed his shin all wrapped up. We exchanged complaints and turns out, we have the same injury. Just stemming from turning up the mileage too fast I suppose. Lots of hikers are either banged up, taking extended time off from the trail, or really working on finding a good mileage balance to avoid burnout. Everyone’s strategy is changing now that we are halfway through, groups are breaking up all over the place and even people calling it quits for good (Spoon had the best idea: he said since a lot of people quit during this section, he wishes it were like the Hunger Games and every night a cannon goes off and we see a picture in the sky of the hiker who just left the trail, gosh, if only!). Needless to say, it’s a very interesting time for the trail rumor circuit!

I woke up in the most peaceful state that morning. Stoic was up and walking by 5:30, a perfect time for me to start the process of opening one eye at a time and attempting to stretch out my body without pulling any muscles (always a scary time). This process can take a long time.

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I got going around 6:30 and a mile later saw Bear Claw and Lemonade also in the process of opening their eyes. They were camped right next to the trail so I decided to start banging my trekking poles together and speaking louder than normal — it was time to get goin!! Halfway mark today! Beers in Chester! Just 24 miles until the highway! Get out of those bags! Hah, I think they wished they camped a mile before me instead of after.

After 16 miles I approached the Halfway marker, mile 1,325! Stoic offered me Bourbon in celebration and he, Animal, and I had lunch together on the side of the trail. Once they left Bear Claw, Lemonade, and City-Time marched in. We clapped them in, and did a high-five line. It was a really awesome group to have around for that milestone.

I know I know, how am I always drinking on trail?

I know I know, how am
I always drinking on trail?

Stoic, Animal, and their jars of PB

Stoic, Animal, and their jars of PB

We coasted the final 8 miles to the highway where Bear Claw called trail angel “Pipers Mom” to possibly come give us a ride into town. I’m glad she did, because City-Time and I were trying to hitch a ride and were being straight up ignored by all the Saturday traffic. Pipers Mom is a trail angel in Chester and she keeps a cooler of sodas and fruits by the highway for hikers and offers her phone number for anyone coming into town. She showed up in a mini-van and was the sweetest, nicest lady. We all loved her so much. She dropped us at the local dive (the thirsty trout) so we could properly celebrate our halfway milestone. More beer for us! Thanks again Pipers Mom, we love you!

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Chester was great. Small town with Burger joints and milkshake bars. We showered for hours (it’d been 10 days since I showered or did laundry and I was disgusting). This section was extremely dusty, so we were caked in more dirt than normal. We ate tons of food, drank tons of beer and coffee, and I headed out to the trail the next day. I’m trying not to take a rest day until Oregon. I won’t be upset if I do, I’d just like to get out of California, it’s been going on forever! I hitched a ride with a guy my age. He’s got the greatest laugh and we had a ball. When he dropped me
off I realized I didn’t get his name, he said his name was Joey. As I exited the car I sang, Joey and Julie! 2 Peas in a Pod! We laughed some more and I frolicked to the trail, hyped up on espresso and soft serve ice cream, hoping to get in at least 5 hours of hiking.

Thanks tree sign, I will continue to not change a thing about my hike

Thanks tree sign, I will continue to not change a thing about my hike

lol

lol

Finally, some clouds!

Finally, some clouds!

Had to say goodbye to Bear Claw and Lemonade in Chester, they are now putting all their focus on the wedding and pretending to be real people for a week or 2. I hope they catch up so we can hike and eat all the pastries in Washington together! But in all seriousness it was a blast being around them for the week, they are the type of people that become friends right away, friends that you know would do anything for you even though you haven’t known each other for that long. They’re the good ones, that’s for sure. Happy wedding week guys! The best part about their wedding is how they plan to spend the 5 days leading up to it at All-you-can-eat buffets. In no other world do the bride and groom gorge themselves before their wedding, just in this one.

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So, halfway done with the hike huh? How do I feel? I’m not really sure. It took a long time to get here, the miles have been long and hard, and the trail towns and trail Angels abundant. I have had so much fun with everybody, and have learned so much about myself, my environment, and people in general. Everyday is a new challenge, a new adventure. I’ve caught myself daydreaming of Canada a lot the last week, I think part of me will always love the thought of the finish line, but I’m such a lover of the journey that I won’t get washed away in those thoughts just yet. There are so many more miles to go, so many more lessons to be learned, so many more people to impact and be impacted by, and so many more facts about trees that need to be learned. At happy hour Bear Claw said she was sad we are halfway through, that she’s gonna miss all of this. That put it in perspective for me, our time is so limited out here. 5 months, in the scheme of things, is just a blip in our lifetime. Even on the harshest of days I love it out here, there is always, always, something to shout for joy about. I am going to miss this trail – this life – so much when it’s over, and the only thing that will help with that emotion is remembering how much I appreciated each moment, how I constantly lived for the adventure, how I embraced the unexpected, how I disconnected and lived in the moment, and how, during all of the hard times, I found something to laugh about.

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“You Know What Separates the Men From the Boys? Puttin’ On Wet Clothes Every Morning” — Soloing the Sierra

Day: 68

Location: Black Velvet Coffee Shop, Mammoth Lakes, CA (favorite place so far!)

Mile: 906.6

Avocado Count: 34

Showers Taken: 18

It’s all in your mindset. If you have the right attitude towards achieving a goal, you are going to achieve that goal. As I was hiking, I would stop and chat with other hikers. We discussed plans and landscape and strategy, and when it came up that I was not going into Bishop to resupply and take a day or 2 off to rest, I heard a lot of choice words and phrases. I had packed 12 days of food, and I was going straight to Mammoth by way of the most challenging terrain the PCT offers. And I was going alone. The most gratifying moments were when I’d tell someone this (whom I know has a rather lofty ego) and they would throw out a compliment and wish me well — because I could see their minds churning with doubt and maybe, just maybe, a tinge of envy. Funny thing is, I didn’t know how monster of a hitch it was until I was halfway through it, and even then it felt really, really attainable.

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I woke up every morning and performed a type of “self check-in,” if you will. I would ask myself if there was anywhere else I’d rather be. The answer was always no. I woke up excited everyday, even the day I forced on icy socks and slipped them into icy shoes and thought I’d never be warm again. Even then. Sure, a nice strapping young man brewing me hot coffee before sunrise would have been a nice addition, but we can’t win ’em all!

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On the 6th day of the Sierra, my friends went into Bishop to put their feet up and eat tons of food, and I continued on, scaled up Glen Pass and finally passed mile 800. Glen Pass wasn’t too bad, but the descent was the steepest of all, and not my favorite. It was terrifying. We were told not to do it super early because you don’t want to descend when it’s icy. The snow was soft when I went down, but then something really unfortunate happened.

Ascending Glen Pass

Ascending Glen Pass

At the top of the pass I was with about 10 other people, some old friends, some new faces. I’m not good at waiting around when there is hiking to be done, so I was the first to leave the summit party. I walked across the ridge to the steepest glissade butt track you’ll ever see. Basically, a snow slide. Opinions were varied at the top about if we should do it or not, looked kind of steep and downright suicidal. So here I go, first one to approach the start of the butt chute…I wasn’t planning on doing it, but it chose me to. Damnit I had no choice because I slipped and fell onto the slide. It was so smooth and slick there was no recovery method, I had to commit to the slide and try to slow myself down. I had micro-spikes on, but my ice ax was still in my backpack. I tried desperately to slow down but couldn’t, nothing was working. As I slid to my death (totally dramatic) I made one last effort and threw my poles, flipped onto my stomach, tied my hands together and gathered snow with my forearms. It worked, THANK GOD. The initial cheering turned to horror from the crowd looking on. Later in the day I apologized to everyone for almost dying and thus probably ruining their summer. They told me when I threw my poles they started getting super worried, and then 5 days later I saw friends from the Whitney Summit and they were like “we saw you glissade down Glen Pass, holy cow that was scary!” Haha, I put on a show, that’s for damn sure. Lots of bruises and scratches from the snow, but popped right up and continued the descent, I mean did I have another choice? Get me the heck off that mountain!

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The rest of the day was easy peezy. I gave myself a pass. I dried out all my stuff by Rae Lake and submerged myself in the icy cold waters. It was time for a bath. I made coffee and reorganized all my stuff. Hiked a few more miles and set myself up for a super early wake-up call to conquer the next mountain pass. Did about 15 miles that day and made a delicious farro&coconut milk soup for dinner.

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Day 7: Marathon day. It was either complete 2 Passes (most everyone does one pass per day) or do 2 consecutive low mileage days with one Pass each. I figured I’d continue to test myself and go for the gold. I started hiking at 4:30am and was the first person in the snowfields approaching Pinchot Pass.

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Luckily, my GPS was working at this point, but it turned out to be the last hour of THAT luxury for the rest of the week. I got all sorts of turned around, then luckily I saw 2 guys come out of nowhere walking on what was clearly the trail…EUREKA! I followed them the rest of the way up, and then bounced ahead of them. I got down after getting lost some more, and then started pushing the pace because I had 10 miles to cover before the next pass, and I wanted to be up and down that pass before the early afternoon’s soft snow. I crossed over many terrifying creeks and soon approached Mather Pass aka “The most fear-inducing pass in the Sierra.” You literally have to hike up super sharp snowy switchbacks with drop-offs that would make even the most courageous nauseous. Then you scale up either a snowy wall, or a section with nothing but loose rock, and pray that your foot holds steady. It’s exhausting, and the stress of the drop-off doesn’t exactly make things easier. As you can imagine, it was the biggest relief to get to the top. Two passes and 17 miles by 12:30…can you feel the fist pump that you know went down? Can ya feel it!

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The rest of the day was gorgeous, slightly breezy, warm, and along a golden trail with lakes and rivers and butterflies. Although my legs were in a lot of pain from dry skin. Between the post-holing in shorts, creek fords, and hot sun, they were so, so dry. Had to wear pants the rest of the week to cover them up. In the height of my leg misery I met a guy who asked me if I found his weed at the bottom of Glen Pass. Clearly, my pain did not compare to his loss, so I considered myself lucky to only have the most dried out skin in all the land. To think, I could have lost my WEED. (Disclaimer: I don’t smoke, heavy sarcasm).

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After 27 miles, and close to 15 hours of non-stop movement, I called it a day. Another 4am wake-up the next day in attempts to conquer Muir Pass. On the switchbacks before the snow I met an awesome lady named Cashmere, she is 53, a chemistry professor, and an ultra-runner. She started the PCT on May 6th and had yet to take a day off. She is crushing it.

We hiked most of the day together and was really nice to have someone to navigate the pass with. We got to the top and there was a beautiful stone hut constructed by the Sierra Club in 1930 in John Muirs memory. It gave me the chills. It was one of the best moments of the trip. John Muir is the most iconic outdoor figure, and has done so much to protect this area he called his home, the Sierra. If a hiker ever throws up a quote on social media, 9 times out of 10 it was said by John Muir. So yes, it was an extremely precious moment seeing that hut, and of course, hiking in the John Muir Wilderness ON the John Muir Trail. The guy is rightfully everywhere around these parts, I might have even started talking to him towards the end of each day when I’m at my looniest. May have.

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As you can see this is when a bit of weather started to loom. It was Friday, and a fellow hikers (Spreadsheet and Malt) had the weather forecast at the top. They told us low chance for snow on Saturday, but high chance on Sunday. Shoot, I thought it was always sunny in the Sierra Mountains? Right? Don’t they know I’m out here for almost 2 weeks and expect PERFECT weather everyday? Of course, I laughed and said welp, COME WHAT MAY! and it did, like Hell it did…

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Friday was another day probably close to 25 miles, pushed it again in the evening because I wanted to get close to the NEXT PASS. Despite my efforts, I believe I was still 10 miles from it, but I was tired and hungry and I had promised myself Mac n’ Cheese all day, so darnnit I was gonna have myself a FRIDAYYYY NIGHT! Talk about earning your cheese, I inhaled that goodness and slept like a baby.

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Saturday rolls around and the weather is iffy, clearly, the storm is gonna go down today, not tomorrow. I just pray it holds out until I’m off this next pass, Seldan. About 2 miles from the top, it begins to hail. Then rain. Then hail. Then snow. I wanted to push it, I really, really, didn’t want to call it quits for the day, it was only 11:30, but I’m also very aware of the dangers of being on top of mountain passes during storms. So, mom, dad — I listened to your voices in my head and made the “smart choice” and played it safe. I pushed it to the most exposed area (fine luck) and set up my tent while getting pelted with hail.

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Everything was soaked but my sleeping clothes so I put on my jammies to warm-up. I ate some cold-soaked oatmeal (was low on fuel, needed to save it for dinners only) and tried to nap. 30 minutes later I hear a voice..”hey you in the tent, got everything you need??” “Oh hey! Yeah I’m good, how is it out there?” “Not bad, it’s only RAIN.” He didn’t mean to sound condescending, but that’s how I HAD to take it if I wanted to ever leave my tent. I laughed and was like okay, there’s people going up there, so now you don’t have an excuse, go get it done. Packed up my soaking wet things, and got to the top in no time (was way closer than I thought). Took this photo and raced down before the next wave of the storm came barreling through.

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Met up with those guys at the bottom and hiked together through 2 really intense river fords (because we weren’t wet enough already) and then a few more miles. What helped me all week wearing wet shoes was, oddly enough, Will Ferrell and Jimmy Fallon. You know their song “Tight Pants?” Well early in the desert when the ONE time we got our feet wet, Centrefold started singing that song, but replacing ‘Tight Pants’ with ‘Wet Shoes’…it was the funniest thing to me at the time, and so all week I would do a little dance (with similar hip movements) with my wet shoes and sing the whole song as I hiked along. It was probably the most effective mood booster of the week.

I started every morning staring at my wet shoes

I started every morning staring at my wet shoes

Anyhoo, we all camped separately that night, calling it quits at different times. I labeled that day a slap in the face from the PCT, I mean it never stopped. Every time you thought you could relax, the PCT would test your will once more with intense hail, more creek crossings, mosquitoes, or washing out the trail completely and leaving you lost and frustrated. I made dinner from my tent as the rain came down, grateful I kept all my sleeping clothes dry. It was a fitful night of rest, my lips continued to throb, the rain smacked my tent, the thunder roared and the lightening lit up the sky. It was terrifying. Around 5am I opened my eyes to my tent caving in on me, the rain turned to heavy, wet snow and my poor little tent couldn’t hold much more. So for the next hour I would sit up, smack my tent walls, lay down and contemplate never leaving the tent, sit up, smack my tent, lay back down and contemplate never leaving the tent etc. I was 2 days from Mammoth.

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There is a really hiker-friendly resort called Vermillion Valley that a lot of hikers resupply at. I wasn’t planning on doing the 8 mile detour to get there, but with the state I was in, it was the only safe choice. Everything was soaked, I knew it was going to snow all day, and the Pass I planned on doing is known for a very confusing descent because it’s always covered in snow. With my GPS on the fritz, and new snow covering the preexisting footprints, I would have been doomed. So I finally pumped myself up, ate as many calories I could to keep warm, and put on soaking wet clothes. All of it, all of it was wet and snowy. It was the most difficult 30 minutes of the PCT. I wish, I couldn’t feel a thing. Taking down my tent was a bear. I had no grip strength, no dexterity in my fingers, and was shaking so badly. I also had to poop, so that was just the icing on the cake. I got the tent down, rolled it up all water-logged and shoved it somewhere on the outside of my pack. I was a freak show, for sure.

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“I got my wet clothes, got my wet clothes, I got my wet clothes on!”

I felt really nauseous and knew I needed to hike fast. The hail kept coming down, the trail was a stream, and my feet were ice bricks. 6 hours later I got to VVR, ready to spend upwards of $200 dollar for any sort of indoor sleeping space. They gave me a free beer and told me I could camp for free out front. After one sip of the beer my whole life changed. I set up my tent in the mud and rain, put on a bunch of loaner clothes (I chose fleece pajama pants with snowflakes on them) bought 3 nectarines and a honeybun and wiped out the inside of my wet tent with towels they gave me. I could have showered or done laundry for 6 bucks a piece, but was feeling better and decided to save that goodness for Mammoth. I continued to rough it, and slept pretty cold that night. It was all good though, because I hung out with a lot of hikers at the small restaurant they had. It was a really great moment when a staff member came into the restaurant saying..”EXCUSE ME HIKERS, someone put their BLUE sleeping bag in the dryer and it lit on fire, I SAVED the sleeping bag but now my dryer is BROKEN…NO MORE SLEEPING BAGS IN THE DRYER.” I just sat there with a smile on my face, sipping on soup in my fleece snowflake pajamas wondering in what other restaurant on earth this could happen in. And in that moment, I loved my life to the fullest.

First time looking in the mirror, my lips were inflamed and blistered, and my eyes were completely bloodshot. Heyyyyaaa good-LOOKIN!!!

I took the ferry out the next day, I wanted to get out early so I could complete the final mountain pass before Mammoth, Silver Pass. I got up there at 4:30pm and got lost for 2 hours. There were dark clouds literally all around me, but not on me. I felt like I was walking in the spotlight. I prayed a ton to keep the light on me, because if the storm came in AND I was still lost, I’d probably loose my cool. It was evening, and I was tired. I needed to get off this mountain. I followed the boot pack, but it kept leading me to the edge of cliffs.  After a lot of extra exerted energy and strategics, I found the correct boot pack, and made it down. I got out of the snow and found an awesome campsite nestled in the trees. Ran out of fuel before my water could boil but I didn’t care, I ate cold soup that night. I would be in Mammoth tomorrow eating pizza, just 20 more miles.

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Finding a sign after being lost for 2 hours = equals me collapsing in the snow in complete relief

Finding a sign after being lost for 2 hours = me collapsing in the snow in complete relief

The hike into Mammoth was the hardest day of the hitch, my feet were screaming with every step and the trail kept going up 1,000′ and then down 1,000′ but the descents were covered in snow so you could never make up any time. It took forever. But you know what? I made it. With a half mile left I began to cry a bit. I did it. Holy cow, I hope I never forget the feeling of getting to the trailhead and seeing other humans and cars. I made it to Mammoth. I threw my clothes in the washer, ordered room service dominoes, hopped in the shower, and devoured a pizza and fake chicken bites while watching the trashiest most brainless television I could find (E-Network always delivers).

It was the most challenging 12 days I have ever had. My legs and body held up phenomenally, I was really, really proud of them. I kept my head on straight better than I would have if I had done this any earlier in my life, but towards the end I was so mentally drained from getting lost in snowfields and always, always, being wet, that I was ready to get off the trail for a break. I actually had a bit of food leftover which no hiker quite understands.

This was a fun snackie

Cute little snack

I have been in Mammoth for 5 days and really don’t want to look at my credit card statement. My friends took extra time off in Bishop so they are about 5-6 days behind, which is way farther back than I was hoping. I have made it this long, so I am hoping to see them today so we can hug and exchange battle stories from this crazy section of trail. Having such strong relationships on the trail is both a blessing and a curse. It’s so hard to sync schedules and please everyone. Lots of flexibility is required, and even more patience. But the enrichment your friendships bring to the experience is invaluable. They make the hard times easier and the miserable moments fun. I’m in a tough spot right now because I am the only one on a schedule, and don’t have too much time left for side-trips or many more lazy days off. Not sure how things are going to play out from here, but I trust it will all work out for the best.

I’ve just been eating and drinking all week, and have definitely gained back a majority of the 10lbs I lost. The last few days of the hitch I had to tuck all my layers into my pants to keep them up (I wish I had a picture, total nerd) it was quite annoying, but now they are snug and there will be none of that for awhile!

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I have no idea what is next, all I have heard is really intense and high river fords, mosquitoes, and more snow (but not nearly as much). The hardest part of the WHOLE trail seems to be over (the desert and the southern Sierra). It’s crazy to think about, but now I need to make up a lot of miles in NorCal and Oregon if I want to be done by my goal date. I got a sister getting married and I am NOT to miss it! Time to hit the trail runnin’

 

The Desert Goes Up in Flames & The Kennedy Meadows Experience

Day: 66

Location: Mammoth Lakes Library, CA

Cumulative Miles: 906.6

Avocados Consumed: 33

Showers Taken: 16 (yikes)

Rewinddddddddddddd….

The last 50 miles of desert. 2.5 more days. The snowy Sierra await us at the end of this week. We ended a great Memorial Day Weekend with an American BBQ at the campground with the Brit Family Robinson. The kids (Captain Obvious and Pippy) challenged me to a game of horseshoes. I would like to say I kicked their little hiker butts, but that was not the case. They won. That’s all I’d like to say about THAT.

When two families merge!

When two families merge!

The Brits named all their water bottles after us, I got the Mt. Dew one! hah!

The Brits named all their water bottles after us, I got the Mt. Dew one! hah!

The following morning, Centerfold and I hitched the 38 miles back up to the trail at Walker Pass. Being a tough hitch, we did really well. A lady in a beat-up 1980’s Honda picked us up within 10 minutes. When we loaded her trunk with our packs and our bodies, I thought we were going to bottom out. Her 6-year-old daughter was in the back, so we became buds. We talked about life, played “Pet Rescue,” and she told me how beautiful I was. Automatic Best Friend. She drove us as far as she had time for, then dropped us on the side of the road. It was probably 90 degrees out, and we stood at this pull-out for about 20 minutes before someone else stopped to take us the final 10 miles. In that time, the owner of the land we were standing in front of came out with cold water and Gatorade. Such a nice guy, and within the next 5 minutes a professional mountain biker picked us up in his ‘suped-up’ extremely nice truck. He told us some crazy stories about how he got shot and lost a lung, which is why he had to retire so early. But it’s okay, because things happen for a reason and now he has a rad little kid who races bikes. He dropped us off and BAM we began climbing for the next 2.5 days. It was the last section of desert and it was brutally rewarding. I fell back in love with it. Super hot, dry, and mountainous.

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For our last night in the desert, I wanted to find a really sweet spot. I wanted to watch the sunset, make dinner, journal, and keep my rain-fly in its bag and stare at the desert stars until my eyes were forced shut. It took a few extra miles of hiking, but I finally found the perfect spot on a ridge. All goals accomplished (with an added surprise swig of whiskey from a group of hikers who stopped by) and I slept like a baby under the brightest, clearest, most beautifully calm sky. The perfect send-off.

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Chuckles, Spoon, and I hiked the last 10 miles into Kennedy Meadows together the next morning. I was definitely struggling a bit from dehydration, just couldn’t get my mind right. I fought it so hard because I knew how big of a milestone it is to walk into the iconic Kennedy Meadows (and how excited Chuckles and Spoon were, so I was trying realllyyyy hard not to be a debbie).  My spirits rocketed the second we touched the parking lot. Kennedy Meadows is a “town” of 200, basically it’s just a general store with a big deck hikers drink and eat burgers on. It’s the Gateway to the Sierra, so it’s filled with very excitable hikers, the energy being completely contagious. WELL, as new hikers arrive, the fellow hikers hangin’ on the deck start clapping for them! So we walked up to probably 30 hikers applauding us in. I couldn’t stop myself, I ate it up. I bet everyone who knows me well is NOT surprised by this. I started doing my toe-touch dance and yelling “ohhh stop it! just stop it! noooo YOU guys! it’s all YOU guys! awww shucks!” We got up to the deck and a few guys were like “holy sh*t! she’s got a f$#kin signature move man! that’s awesome!” I introduced myself as Toe Touch, said screw this dehydration thing, and we got beers and burgers and became part of the crowd clapping in other hikers. Such a silly, stupid, weird life. I love it.

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Good friends send cheap whiskey you can't possibly fit in a backpack

Good friends send cheap whiskey you can’t possibly fit in a back-pack

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We all had several packages waiting for us. Ice axes, micro-spikes, warmer clothes, tons of food, letters from friends etc. My favorite was a box of MRS. HACK cookie squares! Growing up she always made our soccer team cookie squares, and then continued to bake me them every time I was home from college. I’ve been in contact with them and knew they were coming, I was SO excited. They were as fresh as if she just took them out of the oven in NY. I ate a ton, packed up 8 (one for dessert every night, what a treat! except the last 4 days were sad), and then gave the rest to the Brit Family Robinson. Hysterically, Anya (the mom) took a bite and ran over to me on the other side of the deck, mouth full of cookie exclaiming “what IS this, it’s NOT a cookie, it’s NOT cake, what IS IT?!?” Smiling and equipped with a arm swing I yelled, “it’s a cookie square!” So proud of them, I was so proud of those cookie squares, as if we just bridged a huge cultural gap. The little things. So THANK YOU HACK family, for always being such a great support system for me, and for putting huge smiles on our faces.

We felt really, really lucky. As we sat on the deck that night, we watched a cloud of smoke fill the area we just hiked in from. There was a fire at a campground just a mile off the PCT, and it shut down the trail to Kennedy Meadows. The next day hikers were getting dropped off at Kennedy Meadows, and they didn’t get an applause. I felt really bad for them, they had to miss the last 50 miles of desert, and then get driven into Kennedy Meadows, nothing any hiker wants to happen. That also sealed it for us, we were getting out of there. We sat and drank whiskey, sang songs, made fun of each other, swigged wine with Beyonce, and watched the desert burn behind us. It was surreal, the desert literally went up in flames the day after we completed it. And in that moment, I found Jesus.

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After a very casual effort of organization and consolidation (aka putting all items into sandwich bags), I had managed to fit 12 days worth of food into my newly purchased bear canister (required for the next 400ish miles). The others only had to fit 6 days worth, which was even difficult for them. Good thing I have a healthy relationship with hunger (kidding), because as it seems, I eat half as much as they do. But if I didn’t, if I didn’t train my body to do A LOT on a little (to put it simply) then I wouldn’t be able to have been in the Sierra for 12 days straight, and give it all my focus and energy. We all make choices, and mine seem to be on the higher spectrum of masochism. I’m aware. And I’ve embraced it.

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My pack weighed around 35lbs with no water

So that was it, our final farewell to the desert, to Kennedy Meadows, and to hikers we were very uncertain we’d ever see again. After a cuppa tea with the Brits, and finally SHOVING everything into every area of our packs, we set out for the mountains. We hiked a huge 2 miles that night, ate snacks for dinner, and lay awake excited for the next chapter. The chapter that is most talked about. The chapter that would surely change us in the most beneficial ways. The chapter that would challenge even the most poised hiker. The chapter entitled, The Sierra Nevada. DUN DUN DUNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN

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The Desert Crazies

Day: 48

Location: Neldas Diner, Lake Isabela, CA

Cumulative Miles: 652

Avocados Consumed: 32

Showers Taken: 13

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I cracked. The desert broke me. It was only a matter of time, but the weird part is that it wasn’t the exposure or extreme temperature. It happened on a cold, windy, and rainy freakin’ day. Don’t get me wrong, the desert has been extremely gorgeous and rewarding, but it’s safe to say, “I’m over it.” GAHHHH

We started our hike on Sunday afternoon. Camel hiked out a day earlier so we were down to 4. If I were in high school I would have called us the “Fab 4” all week, but I’m not, so it obviously never even crossed my mind.

Brand loyal.

Brand loyal.

We had a short week on our hands, about 86 miles to the next town. All I knew about this stretch was that it’s desert-like, and there would be very little water along the way. If my preparation hasn’t impressed you so far, I feel like that last sentence MUST of got you there. Again, just wingin’ it.

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It was so cold. The first couple of days were very pleasant, but the nights provided the shivers and I laid awake making lists of more layers needed for the High Sierra. Why sleep when you can make lists? We did a lot of initial climbing, so we hiked and slept around 6,000 ft. throughout the week. The roaring wind didn’t help matters either. My goodness I am so sick of the wind. If I can pinpoint my craziness to one element it’d be the wind. For sure. GAHHHHH

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Two days BEFORE the desert made me crazy, I saw a bear. Confusing for me, because I thought I was in the Mojave desert. And because I thought “it must be a squirrel.” It wasn’t. It was a big brown bear and it scared the shit out of me. There was a stretch of forest in between more desert, it lasted about 6 miles and that is where the Mojave Brown Bear lives. Mile 595.4.

The bear stopped in the sunny part of the trail to stare me down

The bear stopped in the sunny part of the trail to stare me down

I’ve seen bears before, but never that close, and never alone. We stared at eachother in a frozen silence. I would have made a lot of noise and went bonkers, but it didn’t feel right. Instead, I did absolutely nothing. Except pray, yeah, I prayed quite a bit in those 20 seconds. It eventually huffed and charged down the right side of the trail into the woods, PHEW. I continued to do nothing for 10 minutes and hoped someone would show up behind me, no such luck.

It was 6:30 at this point, I was ahead of the pack and looking for a campsite. I couldn’t find any suitable flat ground for 3 tents, AND I wanted to get out of that bear forest, so I ended up hiking another 4 miles. I sang loudly, yelled made up words and phrases, and swung my trekking poles around. I really, really didn’t want to see that bear again.

I ended up camping alone that night, 3 miles ahead of everyone. I don’t blame them, I pulled out a big day and they hiked farther than they wanted to trying to find me. I spent all night (seriously) wondering if the bear ate Maggie (chuckles). I was genuinely concerned that someone was dead, and then I woke up to an awfully depressing fog and that confirmed my prediction. This fog, yes, this fog, means the bear killed someone. And it was probably Maggie.

breakfast with an alive and well, Chuckles

breakfast with an alive and well, Chuckles

An hour later I found everyone. Alive. WELL THAT WAS A CLOSE ONE. Everyone was shocked that I saw a bear, so now everytime I tell the tale of the Mojave Brown Bear, I get really into it, campfire style.

Dinner in the Cabana, a favorite!

Dinner in the Cabana, a favorite!

The day the desert broke me was total bullshit. That’s the only way to describe it. I expected this first 700 miles to be FLAT, HOT, and super EXPOSED. It’s been all those things probably 50% of the time. After a very long and sandy climb up a stupid hill of some sort, it started to hail. I finally get to the top, and I just get pounded with rain, and then hail. I gingerly searched for my poncho and umbrella. Why wasn’t I frantic? Why wasn’t I rushing? Why didn’t I care that I was under complete weather annihilation? I couldn’t stop laughing. I didn’t give a shit anymore. I knew it would pass, and I would eventually dry off. I let it mess with me as it pleased. I eventually threw on my poncho over a SOAKED toe touch, hiked for 5 minutes, and then took it off.

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At the bottom of the mountain was a water cache where I waited for Spoon and Chuckles. It was really windy and cold, but I took off my clothes to dry anyway. It didn’t work. So I put them back on, did a few somersaults with my pack on, laughed, yelled, screamed at the top of my lungs how badly I wanted to lay naked on hot pavement, and then we climbed up another mountain. Against the wind. At the top I looked out over the dark and stormy valley and said, In a very low tone, “I’m so fuckin’ sick of you.” I shook my head and then laughed at myself, my life, these circumstances, and remembered quickly how easy we have it out here. Gratitude gave me a swift attitude adjustment REAL QUICK.

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These lupines are quite nice though

These lupines are quite nice though

We raced into town the following day, a mostly downhill 13 miles. We stayed at the Weldon KOA and did the normal routine: beer, food, shower, laundry, beer, pretend to sleep. We hitched 35 miles with a really nice guy who had a Rolling Rock beer in his center console, he claims it was his first beer of the day. We didn’t mind. Later I hitched to the supermarket with a guy who had a 12 pack of Natty Light in his center console, he offered no explanation.

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We took the dollar bus into Lake Isabela the next day, spending one night at the Motel and the following 2 nights camped at a grassy corner in a trailer park. I met as many locals as I could, I really wanted to hear stories that didn’t involve hiking and pretend I actually lived here. It worked out well because everyone I met was super friendly. Even attended a Hawaiin Luau at the Moose Lodge!

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Drinks with Larry and Gary!

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Drinks with Keith and Dawn!

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There is plenty of snow and cold temperatures awaiting us in the Sierra (50 more miles), so we took our time in Lake Isabela to get things sorted for the long stretches in the mountains. My friends are packing up for 5 days and then hitching into Lone Pine, 88 miles down the trail. I thought about doing that as well, but then realized I love the thought of hiking straight through the first 200 miles of the Sierra. It will be about 12-14 days, because it includes a summit side trip up Mt. Whitney (highest peak in the lower 48!). Our daily mileage will also lower in the Sierra due to elevation, snow, ice, and overall beauty.

When I think about backpacking in the High Sierra, I envisioned it with some solo time. This is the perfect opportunity to see how well I can do on my own, and face all the challenges that come my way. I’m a bit nervous, but way more excited. I haven’t slept all week, my entire body is on fire with the anticipation of these mountains.

I’m oddly not stressed out about having good enough gear or enough food. My plan is to stuff my pack with food and clothes, and hike north. One step at a time, keeping it simple and letting the magic of the landscape wash over me.

Sierra ready.

Sierra ready.

My next maildrop will be in Tuolomne Meadows, looking to be there around June 15th! But first, 200 miles in the Sierra, a reboot at the Mammoth Lakes Motel 6, and then 42 miles.

Time to go see for myself what all this fuss is about. 👍😀✌️🏔🏔🏔🏔🏔🏔

 

 


 

Earning the Sierra

Day: 40

Location: Motel 6, Mojave, CA

Cumulative Miles: 566

Avocados Consumed: 29

Showers Taken: 11

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This week was a doozy. A majority of Mile 55 members labeled this the toughest hitch. I think I might agree.

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“I smell like hot dog water” said Centerfold as we hit the trail on a Saturday afternoon. With just showering and laundering the day prior — this was sad, but true. We all smelled like hot dog water. The truth is, we stink. Although, our group does take good care when it comes to hygiene, other people definitely smell worse out here. We no longer smell eachother, but we do get whiffs of ourselves everytime we adjust a backpack strap or reach across our bodies. Sure, you get used to it, but that doesn’t mean it’s not there. It’s found a home in all our stuff, never to be washed out again. The worst part is showering, feeling amazingly clean, then sniffing your armpits 2 hours later and BAM, ya still stink.

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I had a moment of major fear because if I can’t scrub the stank now, how am I gonna get rid of it in 4 months for my sisters wedding? Is this ridiculous? Yes, yes it is. Chuckles, in her ever so patient way of dealing with my shit, laughed and told me all I have to do is go home in September and sit in the sauna for 3 hours. That shut me up and I went on my merry way, embracing that solution and not giving the stank any further concern.

On 3 everyone look as trashy as possible...or, actually, just stay as is. Yeah, yeah that's perfect.

Okay on THREE everyone look as trashy as possible…or, actually, just stay as is. Yeah, yeah that’s perfect.

So, right, back on trail Saturday afternoon…we were all together, rested, “clean,” and caffeinated. Spirits and levels were at an all-time high. We stopped for water about 8 miles in and the pipe was barely producing a trickle. It was so unimpressive that Camel quickly named it “Splash Mountain.” It was the last water for awhile so we spent an embarrassing amount of time there, but it was evening and we all had the giggles and the crazies, so Splash Mountain proved to be a solid start to the week. Looking back, it was a big foreshadowing moment in terms of really unreliable water to come.

It's fun to stop suddenly, turn and shoot. You capture everybody's best side

It’s fun to stop suddenly, turn, and shoot. You capture everybody’s best side

As the sun was setting, we found flat ground to set-up camp. The view was gorgeous, and the laughs were abundant.

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We had the pleasure of hiking/camping with Zucchini (real-name unknown) that night (she is since long gone). Zucchini is 19 and has already hiked the Appalacchian Trail, and now she is doing the PCT solo. You want to know what I was doing when I was 19?

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Basically, everyone thru-hiking under the age of 25 and figuring this all out on their own has my vote for president. Hi zucchs!!

The next day I woke up last and had a nice little morning. Our plan was to stay at another trail angels house that night. I was really excited to meet the Andersons, heard great things about them, but something was pulling me away from there. As everyone arrived at the Andersons, I continued to hike another 10 miles. I ended up in Lake Hughes, at a biker bar, in a bedroom fit for a child upstairs. It was kind of an awesome day, that ended with a baked potato (my only real craving so far).

The Rock Inn!

The Rock Inn!

A good pair-a-shoes lasts about 500 miles, so it was time to pick up my first new pair-a-shoes…in lake Hughes! I’ve been really excited about it, partly because my current pair-a-shoes were so chewed up and giving me many issues I could spend an insurmountable time bitching about, but mostly because SHOES and HUGHES rhyme and I’ve been jazzed about that connection.

I've never gone through a pair-a-shoes so fast! Is anyone sick of me referring to them as "pair-a-shoes" yet? Fand?

I’ve never gone through a pair-a-shoes so fast! Is anyone sick of me referring to them as “pair-a-shoes” yet? Fand?

Fine, I started with one pair-a-undies (kidding ?) and I lost them weeks ago. I asked my mom to throw in one pair for me. She, like many others, can’t fathom a life without underpants, so she sent me 2 pairs of black silk granny panties. She also sent me a tube of 100+ SPF sunblock. Spoon said it best, “wow, Claire really knows how to keep both the melonoma AND men away in one small package.”

I thought about keeping the extra pair and using it as a ground cloth for my tent, you know, for both an extra layer of insulation and to preserve the life of the tent floor. But, unfortunately, a sacrifice had to be made.

Note reads: "What! No underwear?? You'll get a bad rash!"

Note reads: “No underwear?? You will get a bad rash!” ? Thanks for the laugh momma!

Oh, right, hiking. The next couple days were light and fun. We hit the 500 Mile mark!!! I had a vision of making a music video, told the crew about it the night prior, and we executed it in one take the next day at the site. I’ve never been so proud.

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In the middle of the week we upped our game a bit. How many miles we do a day is mostly based on where the water sites are. It’s not uncommon in this section to go 20+ miles with no water. On Wednesday, we dedicated ourselves to our biggest mileage day yet, 27 big ones. The first 9 were rolling and lovely, then, well, I don’t know what happened. The next thing I remember is Centerfold offering everyone delicious vegan protein birthday cake cookies his mom (Hi Kit!) sent him. I then crawled into my tent (conveniently located in the middle of a Wind Farm) and fell asleep to gentle lull of my rain-fly slapping all over the place.

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I wish. No, it really wasn’t that bad, just really flat, exposed, hot, and super dry. Did I mention we are hiking through a wind farm? Pretty cool for a mile, then you realize how God-forsakingly windy WIND FARMS are, and the appeal is lost and gone FOREVER. First we walked along an aqueduct, then a pipeline, then a half paved/half dirt-road. I felt like a runaway kid from Stand By Me. I knew it’d be a mental toughness kind of day. I felt good for most of it, luckily my inner millennial surfaced and I listened to a fascinating podcast of the nutritional benefits of Algae, and then a lot of Whitney Houston. Made up some sweet new trekking pole dance moves as well.The corridor was wide open, a lot of space to get a little reckless with the poles.

Aqueduct pampering

Aqueduct pampering

Aqueduct facts or puns? Puns, for sure

Aqueduct facts or puns? Puns, for sure

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Good times had by all!

Good times had by all!

The funniest part of the day was that we planned to camp at the water source. What’s so funny you ask? Well we had no idea if the faucet was on or not. LA has been really kind to us with every so often turning off faucets only hikers really have access to. Some days they are on, others they are off. Drought? Wait, what? California is in a DROUGHT?!? Don’t worry guys, the water was on thankfully.

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We followed that day with a 23 mile climb back up to the high desert. It was fantastic. At the top of the mountain was a hiker hangout with CHAIRS and COLD WATER. There is this older gentlemen named Rocco that we’ve been around a lot lately. No one has actually seen him hike though, we just see him in towns, yet, he is somehow always ahead of us. Really nice and interesting guy, but always blowing our minds where he pops up. For instance, when I got to the water cache at the top of the mountain, there was Rocco, shirtless and reclined in the Adirondack lawn chair. Mirage? I thought so too, but nope, just Rocco hangin out in the desert. It’s always so good.

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The trivial week ended, as it should, at the Motel 6 in Mojave. PCT hiker discount! After apologizing for our all-around smell/dust pile, the manager exclaimed “don’t be silly, hikers are our FAVORITE, you guys don’t complain about a THING!” It was really nice to hear, and it is true. Most hikers I’ve come across are super gracious and polite people. We rely a lot on the kindness of strangers, and we always, always, pay it back. Look at us, changing the world! One Motel 6 at a time!  ?☀️?

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TGIF

Speaking of kindness, I have benefitted immensely from the kindness of two amazing friends this weekend. My friend Lisa sent me a huge box of goodies. This box was STACKED with all the hiker essentials. It was as if she has done a thru-hike herself? Wait, have you? Now THAT’D be something! The best gift was the 5 tshirts she made for the Mile 55 crew. All of us could not love them more, we feel like the coolest camp counsellors on the trail. We are over the moon excited to hike in these, thank you SO much Lisa! A friend I haven’t seen in years, so amazing to have your support.

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My other friend, Michelle, drove an hour, picked up my friends and I, took us to the post office, bought us lunch, laughed along with us, and then brought me back to her home in Bakersfield. It was unbelievable, Mich works full-time, has 3 ((adorableeeeee)) kids under the age of 6, an awesome husband, and she still found time to get her kitchen ready for my arrival: “okay I got avocados, honey, bananas, wine, and because I pretty much grew up with you McCloskeys, pizza and cookies n’ cream ice cream.” She even let me use the master bath and I sank into the most amazing lavender Epsom salt (thank you Lisa!) bubble bath. I couldn’t believe how incredible today has been. You wake up in a Mo-6 and end the day at a best friends house. Undeniably, the best part of this visit was the slice of home Michelle gave me, talking about our families memories together and current hot topics was exactly what I needed to reset and get ready for this last stretch of the desert. Thank you both so much! I really, really, don’t want to leave this bed.

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Pizza Party!

Sisters! ?

Sisters! ?

150 more miles, bring it on, Mojave.

Snakes, Creeks, and ‘The Smiley Face Mystery’

Location: Grizzly Cafe, Wrightwood, CA

Day: 25 

Cumulative Miles: 369

Showers Taken: 7

Avocados Consumed: 19

On-Trail Happy Hours: 1

So picture this: short little brunette, mid-20’s, portland, tight central top bun, red bandana knotted on top of forehead, dark-rimmed eye-glasses, barefoot, big smile. Her name is Penny, and she is in charge of the MILES OF SMILES.

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For 2 days we kept seeing smiley faces in the dirt. Now I’m going to be frank here, it started to agitate me. I’m not proud to admit that, but enough was enough! We had never met Penny, and we weren’t sure who was ahead that could be responsible for these miles of smiles. The rumors began, the mystery grew…

One morning, I emerged from my tent and began to hike (weird right?). I began seeing smiley faces, and I told myself Jules — you have NOTHING pressing on the to-do list today, so during these 20 miles you will solve this, and solve it you will, TODAY. I gave myself a sweet high-five, toe touched it up, and went full-on detective.

It didn’t take much. Early on I passed Penny and her mate, Austin. A mile later I stopped to pee behind a big boulder, but left my pack on the side of the trail (this way, in case of a tragic peeing accident, someone would know my whereabouts.) Being Detective Toe-Touch, I never took my eyes off the trail. I saw Penny scurry by, stop at my pack, do a full 360, then scurry away. Remember she’s barefoot, and she actually is scurrying, it’s not quite a run but definitely not a walk, the stride is just the right length to be a confirmed scurry, trust me.

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Little did she know I was on to her. Instances like this happened the rest of the day as we played leap frog. The next morning she stopped to say hello as we were packing up our tents. Chuckles first asked her if she knew the plot to the Oscar Winning “Wild Wild West” Will Smith film. She did not, and I couldn’t stop myself and spit out immediately “SO WHAT’S YOUR RELATIONSHIP LIKE WITH SMILEY FACES??” BAM! Got her, she doesn’t want anyone else to know, but she confessed. She is just spreading the love on the trail, all good intentions. I’ve decided to start leaving her some now that we are ahead. Wow, I can’t believe I just turned that into a huge story, sorry about that. Well I guess you now see where we get our entertainment from on the trail, we turn the little things into big things and then spread tons of rumors.

Can't imagine anyone purposely leaving this svelt jacket behind..

Can’t imagine anyone purposely leaving this svelt jacket behind..

Okay, for whatever reason that was a pressing event. The week in whole was amazing. We left Sunday morning with 6 days of food and 100 miles to cover. My resupply strategy is part snob part “wing it.” I go up and down every aisle in the grocery store at the pace of a senior citizen. I go for nutrients rather than calories, and clearly weight doesn’t matter to me. I tend to pack in avocados, bananas, almond butter, coconut oil, tins of sardines, jars of olives, a ridiculously heavy spice kit, etc. I then get frustrated that real food costs way more than fake food, but accept that’s just how it is. Totally backwards and screwed up, but I will continue to vote with my dollars. I plan on being in debt by week 5 and thus eating pop-tarts all day. Get ready for THAT post!

An array of snacks for meals

An array of snacks for meals

The most predictable and most consumed "hiker food"

The most predictable and most consumed “hiker food”

The first night we camped under a huge rainbow and then shivered in our tents all night. We had great weather the next few days, clear and hot. Centerfold woke up one day and decided that sleeves were extra weight and a thing of the past! So we went from hiker trash to white trash realllll quick.

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Had a lot of good lunchtime naps this week. On one particular day, Little Spoon decided to sit in the creek in this underwear. The leeches attacked, and I do believe he learned a tough, tough lesson that day.

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Gimme yo best hair flip gurlll!

Gimme yo best hair flip gurlll!

One of the weirder days was when we hiked into Deep Creek Hot Springs. Don’t get me wrong, hot springs are great on a cold day and  when there’s an outhouse. This was a very hot day, and there was neither an outhouse nor trash can. It’s a popular day use area so the place was trashed. Toilet paper in the bushes and under rocks, beer cans, food wrappers and a variety of litter everywhere you looked. It was a bit discouraging that people trash such remote and beautiful places. Such potential, now an area with very high fecal content, way to go, America!

"It's too early in the trip to get naked in front of you guys"

“It’s too early in the trip to get naked in front of you guys”

Also, at one point, we looked to our right and there was a women, naked, with dread locks, slack lining 20 feet above the main lake. Just another day, I suppose.

We passed mile 300! I had a nip of vodka for this moment (thank you, Fand) and I passed it around to celebrate! It was the first of undoubtably many, on-trail happy hours. Nothing I look forward to more.

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Guys, I’ve gone THREE WEEKS without seeing a snake (my biggest fear) and yesterday I saw THREE. They were all different too. Probably all deadly and stupid. All just hanging out across the trail giving me heart attacks. Anyone want to know how I handle the situation? Anyone? WELL LET ME TELL YA. I wait for my heart rate to lower, I stamp my feet, smack my poles, and hope for any movement, ANY movement at all! When they don’t move I figure they’re dead. So I throw rocks at their faces. The first two rocks I don’t try for contact, it’s just a scare tactic. When they don’t even FLINCH, I call them an “idiot” (in a really pathetic shaky voice) pick up my third rock and aim for their face. I usually hit them (not too hard) and they still don’t move. I start stamping again and this proves successful for the first 2 encounters.

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Here’s a sunset, not a snake.

On the third encounter of the day I’ve just about had it. This guy was a total idiot. After 15 minutes of using all my skillful well researched tactics, I look up and see Centerfold not too far down the trail looking at a map. Phew. I call him to my rescue. He does his stamping routine and has the same frustrating outcome: nothin’. Alas he has a great idea, go AROUND it. I do. I don’t like it, but I take a detour behind the snake. I thought many times of running and jumping over it, and every time I vomitted in my mouth. Much too big of a pansy. Maybe next time.

Here's a rainbow bridge, not a snake

Here’s a rainbow bridge, not a snake.

The week ended with a quick stop at an off-trail McDonalds, lots of climbing, beautiful views, windy afternoons, snowy mornings, and a day-off in Wrightwood. Little Spoon has an ankle injury that he barreled through, and we also have time to kill before we can safely cross the Sierras, so the day 1/2 off in town is a good call.

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I was the first one in town and I showed up so cold that I decided to treat myself to a room. The original plan was to camp or stay at a trail angels house. I wanted my own space, and it’s not good for the budget but it’s really good for the mind. I’m surrounded by hikers all day and night, and they are amazing, amazing people, but I do definitely need some space to reset and refresh, you know, so I don’t turn into a total isolated betch.

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The only cabin available was a big one. I took it. I told mile 55 to come stay if they wanted, and it’s been grand. We started drinking in the evening, got Mexican food, and of course, had trouble sleeping all night. It’s a basic cabin, the beds are wooden planks, there’s no television, and laundry costed me $6 and took 16 hours. I wore a strangers XXL frog togs rain jacket to dinner/bed and a pair of clean shorts I keep around. Oh, and a pair of chuckles socks. But I was showered! And I used shampoo! I felt like a million BUX

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Burrito mania!

Anyone order a gall of milk? No? Okay, how about beer then!

Anyone order a gall of milk? No? Okay, how about beer then!

Tomorrow we set out again. The worst of the storm has passed and we are hoping to get another 6 days and 100ish miles in. My health is excellent and I have definitely found my hiker legs. I roll my ankle pretty badly every 3rd day, but I rehab it back to strength pretty quickly. I have very weak ankles from previous injuries and accepted the fact that they will be an issue all summer. Just really hoping not TOO big of an issue. I suppose I also still have that weird foot tumor, which is just a squishy circle on top of my foot. Everything squishy I automatically assume is a calcium build-up. I don’t even think that is a thing, but it eases my mind.

Barely noticeable anymore!

Barely noticeable anymore!

The crew is feeling good, and I’m pushing essential oils on Spoons busted ankle to expedite the healing process. When I heard they were behind on account of injury, my heart broke a bit. I thought it was worse than it was and thought they might not be able to catch up, this causing a major drift. I left him a note and my peppermint essential oil under a rock on the trail for him the next day. He’s a tough one, and we will continue north tomorrow! Phew!

What??!? Yassss!!!

What??!? Yassss!!!

Welp, time to go to the grocery store, probably buy some unreasonably priced and packaged grass-fed yogurt for the trail! Hell, might even splurge and pack out a watermelon! Clearly I know what I’m doing.

ALSO, HAPPY MOTHERS DAY to all the mommas, but especially the ClaireBear, the most generous and craziest one of all. I love you! Thanks for always taking care of your baby girl! ???? and sorry for stripping away all your potentially restful nights ???

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Very foggy morning

Very foggy morning

Currently at 7,000 ft.

Currently at 7,000 ft.

Oh, that's IT?? #easy

Oh, that’s IT?? #easy

Also, Chuckles (Maggie) is a freelance writer and has a killer blog: check it out!

http://appalachiantrials.com/author/maggie-wallace/