Author: Rich Duncombe

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Hiking the PCT

My 100th Day

I’m excited to share my experience hiking on my 100th day on the PCT. I chronicled my day to remember life on the trail. It represents both the simplicity and the practices I use to stay engaged and safe while deepening my awareness. 

I hiked a relatively short day of 21.6 miles through the Goat Rocks Wilderness. I pushed hard 30-miles the day before to get to this section. At the end of my 100th day, I had completed 2,280 miles or 22.8 miles per day. I had some new insights as I look back at the twists and turns common on the trail. 

First, I have refined and developed practices that I use throughout the day applied at various times. As I observed my approach, it became clear that I was using meditation practices to coax my mind and body into embracing the coming hiking day. I have noticed that I am becoming increasingly resistant, mentally and physically, to hiking at the start of the day. I think this is natural after an effort of this magnitude and certainly something other hikers have described. I’m glad that I developed some structure to support my intention and the joy I receive as my day progresses.

My second realization has to do with joy. I noticed throughout the day unexpected moments grab me at the deepest level. For example, I turned a corner on the trail to see the wind blowing through the grass and felt it caressing my hair. These moments of connectedness are hard to describe, but it felt like my hair and the grass and the wind were not separate but one continuous energetic expression.  Or the clattering sound from a woodpecker or the high-pitched chirp of a pica. These unexpected moments occur frequently and come when I am grumbling or happy, present or checked out. But there they are, connecting me with everything that surrounds me. This is what brings me to nature, it is the feeling that I’m a part of it, not just watching it, or conquering it, or taking pictures of it – no, I’m a part of it at a cellular level. I wonder what it would take to experience these moments during what we describe as “normal” life. Do I need to trek endlessly day after day to be open for these unexpected moments of connectedness?

5:00 AM

My alarm went off at 5:00 a.m on my 100th day of hiking. As usual, it was a restless night of sleep. The rain had started in the middle of the night, but it was so warm that everything was dry again. My 30-mosquito escort had a sleepover outside the tent so they could greet me in the morning. As I prepared to pack out, I did a quick survey of my current condition. I hiked 30 miles the previous day in hot and humid conditions with a constant barrage from mosquitoes and biting flies. I felt dehydrated, as evidenced by some leg cramping – all the more reason to take it slow this morning and try to rehydrate. I have 1.5 liters of water which needs to last for the first 7.5 miles.

5:40 AM

I packed everything and was hiking by 5:40 AM.  I put on my full rain gear, including long pants, for the first seven miles to get thru a swampy area. I had three bites on my ankles in the short time I needed to put my shoes on. I hiked at a gentle pace for the first hour to give my body a chance to wake up.

6:40  AM

After two miles, I had my first-breakfast, which was a cliff coffee bar. I’d been working to rehydrate myself but save water for the next 2 hours. I started a one-hour body scan meditation.

7:40 AM

I completed my body scan, and everything is felt good except pain in my right footpad. I checked in with 32 different locations on my body. I find this is an excellent start for the day because it gets me out of my head and connects me to all the parts of my body that will do the work today. I decided to keep walking for the next two hours to clear the buggy swamp section.

8:40 AM

I’d hiked seven miles and had started climbing. It began to rain as it has on several occasions over the last two days, but I didn’t think it would break through this stifling humidity. I completed my second meditation, a trail sensation meditation, where I focused my attention on any sensations I felt from the trail, including the trail surface and the brush that I touched along the way.

9:40 AM

I filled my water bottles at a small stream after hiking eight miles, with the first miles being a 1750 ft descent followed by a 1300 ft climb. The bugs significantly eased as I climbed the ridge, and I was looking forward to having a proper second-breakfast soon.


10:40 AM

After getting water, I started to feel more at ease with the climb ahead. I used a meditation approach that works well for me on climbs. That is to count my breaths from 1 to 10 and then start over. I focus on my steps between each breath which helps me set a sustainable pace. I started to feel in a groove and decided to keep going instead of stopping for second-breakfast. I grabbed a protein bar and continued to climb.

11:40 AM

I reached a pass where the PCT crosses into the Yakima Nation after 13 miles. I remembered this spot from my previous hike in the Goat Rocks and was thrilled to get here for second-breakfast. I heated water for my excellent high-calorie oatmeal concoction and my morning cup of coffee with great fanfare. With the heat and humidity, I had been hoping for rain. It drizzled at first, so I finish my breakfast and then the rain picked up, so I continued hiking after putting on shorts. As strange as it may seem, thru-hikers will put on shorts and their lightest gear in warm rain. Getting wet is inevitable if you hike in the rain for long stretches. This way you keep your warm clothing dry. 

12:40 PM

I always get a big energy boost after second-breakfast. I finished climbing Cispus Pass, and the rain stopped. I met six hiking parties, out for the weekend, that wanted to talk about my journey. I spent time with each of them because I know how much I appreciated learning from previous PCT hikers. I am rarely seeing fellow north-bound PCT thru-hikers at this point but now meet about 10 south-bound hikers a day.

1:40 PM

I had reached the basin under Old Snowy Mountain. Usually, Old Snowy is one of the most picturesque sections on the PCT, but today the mountains were barely visible due to a smokey mist. I hiked this section two years ago with Scott, so coming back and feeling my first cool breeze in days made me smile. I did my one-hour metta meditation as I climbed up to 7,100 feet.

It is worth noting the tools thru-hikers use. Navigation and crowdsourcing information from other hikers is available on an app called Guthook. It allows hikers to see their location in real-time even when the phone is in airplane mode. It also allows hikers to comment on water sources, safety issues, and the best pizza joint in trail towns.

3:20 PM

I climbed the alternate PCT route to the top of the Knife’s Edge, a feared section of trail that follows a thin ridgeline with exposure on both sides. Before descending, I had first-lunch of refried beans and Fritos and called Pleasure-Way. The trail is tricky, and one hiker is believed to have died here but was never found.

Photo of the Knife’s Edge trail from the top of Owd Snowy two years ago
Looking back up the Knife’s Edge after descending on my 100th day

5:20 PM

I made my way to my campsite after descending 1500 feet from the summit. I selected this site because it was next to a stream and on clear days, has a great view of Mt. Rainier.  It was great getting into camp this early since most days I arrive after 7 PM.

5:40 PM

The tent was up, and I used the cold and clear water to hydrate, filter water, and clean up. When possible, I take a sponge bath each night away from the water source. Most nights, I am “dry camping,” which means there is no water source nearby. I always need to ration my water when dry camping, so having it readily available is a treat.

6:40 PM

I cooked dinner outside my tent, the first time in several weeks. The wind kept the bugs at bay, and I enjoyed the solitude. On the menu was my favorite, spaghetti followed by ramen.

7:40 PM

I worked on my 100th-day blog post. I was pleased to have made notes during the day, and reviewing them provided me some valuable insights.

9:00 PM

Lights out, I start again in eight hours.

Categories
Hiking the PCT

Bridge of the Gods

Native American Legend provides a vivid description of the formation and destruction of the Bridge of the Gods. As the Klickitat tribe tells it, the Great Spirit had two warring sons, Pahto to the north of the river and Wy’east to the south. The Bridge of the Gods was created as a way for the family to meet, but the brothers fought over a beautiful woman named Loowit. Their anger shook the earth with fire. The bridge fell into the river. Loowit could not choose between the brothers, and some say she perished in the fighting. For punishment, the Great Spirit turned his sons into mountains — Pahto into Mount Adams and Wy’east into Mount Hood. Loowit became the beautiful Mount St. Helens.

Geologists believe that such a land bridge did exist after the Bonneville landslide, roughly 1,500 years ago, sent a large amount of debris from the northern side of the gorge into the Columbia River. The debris blocked the Columbia River with a natural dam approximately 200 feet high and 3.5 miles long, possibly allowing Native Americans to cross the river. Eventually, the river broke through the barrier and washed away most of the debris, forming the Cascades Rapids, submerged in 1938 by the construction of the Bonneville Dam.

The Bridge of the Gods is also where Cheryl Strayed decided to end her 1,100 mile, 94-day PCT hike. Her book, Wild (2012), and the subsequent movie (2014), starring Reese Witherspoon and produced by her film company, has added more mythology to the PCT and this particular location. Her story struck a chord. In The New York Times, Dani Shapiro called the book “spectacular… at once a breathtaking adventure tale and a profound meditation on the nature of grief and survival.” I have met hikers from across the world motivated to hike the PCT based on Wild.

As I crossed the bridge at 5:30 AM, I was struck by the power of this place. It was more than my angst looking down 140 feet through steel grates into the swirling Columbia River. The full moon in the west reminded me of my Zen group’s metta service offered each month. Metta, or loving-kindness, is a practice of directing positive energy and kindness to oneself and then to an ever-expanding circle, including those you dislike. Perhaps this practice could have benefitted Pahto and Wy’east. I wondered how this journey would contribute to me and others. It urged me to look deeper during my remaining days to discover new insights that might emerge. The journey has given me an entirely new perspective of how my two-trillion cells function through my experience rather than my conceptual understanding. I will carry those insights through the rest of my days, but what else does the trail wish to teach me?

As for the details, I completed 2,147 miles in 94 hiking days, including all the open sections of California and Oregon. That is an average of about 23 miles per day. As expected, the pace in Oregon was faster, completing the open sections in 15 days, or about 26 miles per day. I plan to slow the pace down in Washington due to the increased difficulty and savor the remaining time.

I see Mt. Hood from the south the most from the ski areas.
Mt. Hood in the summer is a beautiful place shared by many enthusiasts from climbers, hikers, mountain bikers, and even skiers and snowboarders engaged in race camps. My children, all aspiring racers, spent time up here in the summer training in the day and rubbing shoulders with world-class skiers and cleaning the dorms at night to earn their keep.
My brother Charles treated me to brunch at the historic Timberline Lodge (shout out to my sister for the great idea). Charles is to blame for getting my father into backpacking which then infected the rest of us. By the way, I don’t suggest “all you can eat” buffets when thru-hikers are in the vicinity.
Circumnavigating Mt. Hood requires a series of deep dives into the valleys that are the source of the White and Sandy rivers.
This is the first time I have had a close-up view of Mt. Hood from the northwest. You can see why few climbers take this route.

I decided to take the PCT alternate route down the Eagle Creek trail, which has been re-opened since a devastating fire three years ago. Tunnel Falls is one of many beautiful falls and refreshing swimming holes to explore.
Brother-in-law and sister-in-law, Jeff and Lynne, kindly picked me up at the Eagle Creek trailhead and provided much-needed trail magic in the form of chocolate milk and ice cream bars, followed by a healthy dinner.
The now-famous East Wind Drive-In in Cascade Locks is featured as the last stop on Cheryl Strayed’s journey. It was all lit up as I started hiking at 5 AM.
The swirling Columbia River and full moon as I crossed the Bridge of the Gods.

Chapter Three begins here. I am so looking forward to getting to know the beautiful state of Washington.
Hiking out of the Columbia River Gorge takes 5K feet of climbing to gain 3.5k feet in elevation. The gorge is the lowest point on the trail and one of the most anticipated milestones on the PCT.
Categories
Hiking the PCT

My Backyard

In 2008, my son Mitchell and I started PCT section hiking with a 45-mile hike through the Sisters Wilderness Area. Retracing those steps, I recalled many funny stories and truly appreciate how fortunate I am that this is my backyard. It is more accurate to say that this is our backyard. These public lands are preserved for generations to come. These lands were the ancestral homes of the native peoples who lived here sustainably over many centuries before colonization.

It is natural and appropriate to have pride in the place we live. That was on full display during the hike in 2008 when I would ask the thru-hikers what their favorite section was so far. I was waiting for the correct answer; “it’s here in the Sisters”. The only response we heard was the Sierra, which did pique my interest to hike there. Over the years, I have doubted whether the Sisters Wilderness was, in fact, as special as I believed it to be. I will let you be the judge as you look at my photos from the last two days. I re-discovered the uniqueness of this combination of volcanic peaks, deep forests, and open plains. I have not seen anything like it.

One of my favorite stories from 2008 was our packs, which we felt were lightweight because they were less than 40 pounds. We were amazed to see thru-hikers zip by with what we would consider day packs. I remember Dragon Ant; he had a tiny pack and was logging 40 miles a day. I can still see him almost skipping over the ground. We got lost in the snow for at least 3 hours, developed an amazing array of blisters from hiking in wet boots, and did not carry enough water to cross the lava flow section. Despite all our troubles, Mitchell went on to section hike 800 miles in 2015, and I crossed the 2000-mile mark today.

The lesson that I share with hikers that I meet along the way is to be patient with yourself. Whether this is your first backpacking trip or you’ve been doing it for decades, you always make mistakes. You must learn and be adaptable whether your body is not performing as you’d hoped, or your gear is not working, or external factors change unexpectedly. The critical thing is that we develop our ability to accept, adapt, and learn from all that we experience. And that’s why every day, every step is a new adventure.

This week I’ve met folks from Oklahoma, Texas, Idaho, and Pennsylvania who have come to hike the Sisters Loop Trail. I welcomed them all to play in our backyard.

Mt Thielsen is the first peak to welcome north-bound PCT hikers. I climbed Thielsen last year and could see into Crater Lake from the summit.
This group provided some much needed trail magic at Summit Lake near Diamond Peak; some Oregon hospitality.
Diamond Peak from the north is normally not visible from below. This basin has a lot to explore and climb.
Walking towards my beloved South Sister, it does feel like my backyard.
North and Middle Sisters from the north show the glaciers and ruggedness of this area.
I was wrong in an earlier post, this is the way to Mordor.
Really, it can’t possibly be almost over. The celebration for completing mileage is getting a bit more subdued.
Categories
PCT Reflections

What Mind is Walking?

Last summer, during a training hike, I met a couple who had completed the PCT in 2015. We had a great discussion about why they enjoyed it so much and what it took to complete it. I then ask them whether I was too old, and they laughed and shared that an 82-year-old was keeping up with them during sections of their hike. The conversation concluded with this summary remark; “it’s a mental journey, not a physical one.”

As I’ve thought about that conversation, I have wondered how can 2,650 miles all be in one’s mind. I started meditating with the Corvallis Zen Circle ten years ago to develop my awareness. Jon Kabat-Zinn, internationally known for his work as a scientist, writer, and meditation teacher, defines awareness as “paying attention in the present moment, non-judgmentally.” I asked my Zen teacher, Abby Mushin Terris, for a Koan to guide my inquiry. Koans are unanswerable questions, at least through our everyday thought processes. After listening to my description, she offered the following Koan, “what mind is walking?” This question yielded some immediate surprises.

The first surprise is that during the early weeks when I was getting angry, depressed, or anxious about the hike, I could trace that anxiety to what I describe as my thinking mind. The thinking mind is a magnificent problem-solving machine, but it’s best when it has good information. At the start, I had a limited understanding of what was in store for me or whether I could complete this journey. When people would ask whether I was hiking to Canada, the only honest answer I could give was “I hope so, but I don’t know.” These kinds of answers drive the thinking mind crazy. With no tangible information to go on, I noticed it swirling into ever-changing stories and distractions that fueled my anxiety.

The second surprise came from observing my body walking. Using my awareness, I observed my body’s sensations, emotions, and thoughts while hiking all day. Walking over continuously changing terrain is complex. It is no wonder that roboticists have taken decades to develop robots that can marginally imitate how humans walk. I noticed how my body anticipated and applied thinking in real-time. For example, I observed that a split second before I stumble, multiple parts of my body had shifted their position in anticipation of the stumble, such as my arm position and the tightened grip of my hands on the hiking poles. I was not consciously aware that any of these actions had occurred even after I stumbled. So the question then is what mind is figuring all of this out if it is not my thinking mind located in my prefrontal cortex.

After hiking 1847 miles, I can share some insights into this question. In my case, I have identified 32 minds that are walking, and this is still evolving. They are all directly involved with getting me safely through each 12-hour day. These minds include individual joints and muscles (left foot, right knee, left hip flexor, etc.), organs (lungs, heart, bowels, etc.), senses (sight, hearing, balance, etc.), and my thinking mind. One technique used in meditation practice is to use your awareness to observe individual parts of your body, known as a body scan. I spend about one hour twice a day doing a body scan. I connect with each of these “walking-minds” by observing them and establish a direct connection as the day progresses.

My third surprise is the most important. I observed that my body loves to walk. It’s not necessary for me to will my way mile after mile while playing pump-up music. I don’t need any motivation at all; my body is designed to walk, and it feels rewarding. This practice has taken a great burden from my thinking mind. Now that I am in direct contact with the crucial systems of my body needed for walking, my thinking mind can focus on what it’s good at, like planning my route, finding water, solving problems, and applying its creative capacity.

Before you write this post off as the rantings of a crazed thru-hiker, I suggest you try this for yourself. During a walk, spend time focusing on one part of your body, like your left foot, and see whether your relationship with it changes. When would-be hikers ask me, my summary remark will be something like, “it’s a mental journey, and you need to engage the intelligence of both mind and body.”

Here are a few photos from my first 150 miles in Oregon!

It is so refreshing to hike in forests again and to see the 100 shades of green on display on Mt. Ashland.
Just after entering Oregon, I entered a field of Bear Grass in bloom. I did not see a single instance of this before arriving home.
The approach to Crater Lake covers about 10 miles of lava fields. The skill of the trail makers was impressive.
The PCT has an alternate route that follows the Crater Lake Rim Trail. Pleasure-Way joined me to enjoy this national treasure.
Wizard Island shouts mystery and adventure.

Categories
Hiking the PCT

Leaving Hotel California

"Welcome to the Hotel California
Such a lovely place (Such a lovely place)
Such a lovely face
Plenty of room at the Hotel California
Any time of year (Any time of year)
You can find it here

Last thing I remember, I was
Running for the door
I had to find the passage back
To the place I was before
"Relax, " said the night man,
"We are programmed to receive.
You can check-out any time you like,
But you can never leave!"

<start massive air guitar solo here>
                    Don Henley / Glenn Lewis Frey / Don Felder

The theme song for this blog has been running through my head for 400 miles. I was wondering whether I would ever leave. The California section of the PCT is overwhelming, 1692 miles and a gross elevation gain of 257K feet. And true to the song, the majority of PCT hikers never leave. An estimated 80% of hikers that start the PCT do not finish, and from my observations, most drop out before hitting the Oregon border. It took me 79 hiking days and 22 miles a day to leave. I was struck when standing here that almost two-thirds of the journey is behind me – even more reason to savor every day.

Only the northern terminus milestone on the US/Canadian border is more significant to me than completing California. It felt so good to hike the 20 miles through the Siskiyous and into Ashland through thick forests. I found the passage back to the place I was before.

My blog and photos have been a walking ad for the beauty of California, a great state, to be sure. As I leave, I also have some friendly feedback for the state that considers itself Oregon’s big brother. First, was it really necessary to wind all over the place to see every mountain range? The drive from the Oregon border to Mexico on I-5 is 807 miles. So why did you ask the PCT thru-hikers to hike over twice that many miles? I feel that you are trying a bit too hard to affirm your status. Oregon, home to the humble and efficient beavers, asks hikers to walk 460 miles compared to a 309 mile drive up I-5. We have other incredible sights to share, like the Alvord Desert and the Eagle Cap Wilderness. We could have used a zigzag course and pushed the miles up to a respectable 700 or so. The same is true for Washington. We are missing the Olympic National park, how about a thru-hiker ferry ride?

You get my point; I love you, California, but now I am excited to come home to the forests, bugs, and volcanos. We got this, and you are welcome to visit and leave whenever you want. Here are some funky photos to close this chapter of the journey.

Good intentions aside, this sign on Mt. Laguna from my third day wins the award for least helpful and most discouraging.
The Coulter Pine wins the award for best pine cone. The cones have half-inch knife-like hooks and can weigh up to 11 pounds. No wonder Coulter pines carry the nickname of “widowmakers,” but I believe most life insurance policies exclude this cause of death.
Near Deep Creek Canyon, I kept hearing revving engines. The trail crossed this “road,” which turns out to be a famous off-road challenge course. And people think hiking 12 hours a day is wacko.
The trail passed under I-15, and I just kept walking towards the light. Then I started wondering whether that is what I was supposed to do.
Vasquez Rocks in Agua Dulce brings trail weary PCT hikers through one of Hollywood’s favorite movie sets. Before clicking on this link, test your movie trivia skills and name at least two movies set in this location.
Hiker Town is the “gateway” to the 40-mile trek across the Mojave Desert. The owner gave me a 30′ description of how he bought the land when he learned that then-Governor Schwarzenegger planned to create a subdivision for 100K people in this area. After buying it, he was shocked that homeless people kept stopping by asking for water. It was then he learned about the PCT. The housing development never happened due to a lack of water, so he and his wife created an oasis that is free for the many thru-hikers that pass each year.
We stopped at a remote campground and were invited to join this group of men that had prepared cornish game hens and other goodies for thru-hikes. It turns out that we were being hosted by the current PCTA Board President and other board members.
My son Scott is featured in the best sunset photo, and it also captures how tough it is to choose one’s freeze-dried dinner after a long day. I think biscuits and gravy was the winner.
Scott and I were trying to figure out where Forester Pass was from the top of Mt. Whitney. Good thing there are trails and navigation apps or we would still be wandering around out there.
I loved this DIY Trail Angel stop in the middle of nowhere with all the things a hiker might need and even solar lights for late-night hikers.
Limit Situation Trail Magic was unbelievable. This group of friends set up four days a week to support PCT hikers. The food was amazing; custom-made pizza, homemade burgers, and salads. They even gave us their really cool bandana. If hikers want, you can stay for the evening, and they will cook breakfast. Really good people who feel that spending time in nature is a worthwhile and important experience.
My most dangerous fall came while trying to cross this snowfield before Carson Pass. With the rest of the hikers, I believed the snow was behind us and did not have microspikes. I fell while crossing above the snowfield with exposure to over a hundred-foot steep fall into the rocks. Somehow, I pushed off as I fell and landed on the trail. Every step matters and this one was a massive wake-up call.
The PCT maps missed the fact that we were crossing through the State of Jefferson. Apparently, Seiad Valley was the epicenter to get statehood back in the 1930s, and then WW2 got in the way. The general store has all the State of Jefferson items for sale that you might be looking for. Any aspiring graphic artists might want to help them out with their logo.
Pleasure-Way has been hiking out with me or meeting me at the end of sections. This picture is heading north out of Sonora pass.

Categories
Hiking the PCT

Northern Sierra Melting Pot

PCT hikers generally assume that the Sierra Nevada section ends at Sonora Pass, where they are relieved to stop carrying their food in a bear canister. Geologists know the Sierra continues another 270 miles to the North Fork of the Feather River, where I ended hiking today. The name “melting pot” came to me early as I saw the ever-changing combinations of high desert, deep forests, polished granite, basalt columns, and volcanic cones. The name made even more sense as I started to adjust to the heatwave that swept across the west.

I have now closed the gap between California’s southern sections with the start of the Cascades. I am excited to be at mile 1501 and ready for my trek northward from Castle Crags. Heat is my new reality, and once again, I need to re-think my gear and approach. I hiked three days with temperatures bordering on 100 degrees, and I immediately noticed the added energy required to cool my body when I am already operating in a caloric deficit. My plan is to lighten my gear and carry more food, but one thing I can count on is continuously making adjustments.

The Desolation Wilderness is a small but spectacular section near South Lake Tahoe starting with Aloha Lake.
Climbing up Dick’s pass provides a great view of Suzie Lake in the foreground and Aloha Lake in the distance. The polished granite reminded me of Yosemite, but the volcanic peaks look much more like the Cascades.
I like to start hiking around 6 AM and then enjoy a proper second-breakfast of gourmet oatmeal and coffee. This friendly face watched me as I sat above Lake Tahoe.
I stopped dead in my tracks when I spotted this “Tahoe Bouquet.” It was as if someone had arranged the Mules Ears (yellow), Indian Paintbrush (red), and Nuttall’s Larkspur (purple).
After leaving Donner Pass, I had my first sustained thunderstorm. Sierra Buttes flashed ominously in the distance.
Hiking Sierra Buttes was a 3500-foot climb from Sierra City, featured in Cheryl Strayed’s book and movie. I got started at 6 AM, and the views looked more like Oregon and Washington.
The hottest and most difficult section covered over 20 miles of hiking through the North Complex fires of 2020. The 100-degree heat radiated back from the barren landscape. This was my most challenging day yet on the trail.
One hiker described the Canyon Valley Spring as the “cold nectar of the gods.” These springs tap into artesian sources where hikers can reach the water before it disappears into the dry ground.
100 Degree Hiking
    Heat comes in waves
    Straining my body's cooling
    Each breeze is pure joy
         Ribs
Categories
Hiking the PCT

1325 Father’s Day Gifts

It is hard to believe that I have now hiked past the PCT halfway point of 1325 miles. I do not think it was a coincidence it happened on Father’s Day. I spent my day trying to remember as many family hiking trips as possible. We had trouble keeping track, so we made a list that now tops 50 hikes. As my thoughts bounced between memories, I realized that I had missed the essential point. Our enjoyment of the outdoors was only made possible because of how genuinely gung-ho everyone was and still is to take these adventures. The family must embrace family vacations, and I had never appreciated how much it shaped the journey I am now on.

The majority of our trips were base camping, where you backpack into a scenic location and hang out together. Let’s be honest; these are a pain to plan and pull off. You’ve got to organize everything, including what food kids will eat, cram everyone and the gear into a car for a long drive. The packs are notoriously heavy, start times often in the heat of the day. The mosquitoes show up just as the energy dims. Finally, life on the trail is not exactly comfortable – sleeping on the ground and the lack of bathrooms is a whole other chapter. There is a lot to douse one’s enthusiasm. And yet, since 1997, we have been out there again and again. So, I dedicate the first half of my hike to those who jumped in with both feet every time.

Glissade training on Mt. Rainier in 1996
Our first family backpacking trip into Green Lakes in 1997 (I was 6’2″ before putting on this 70 lb pack)
Snow in the Wallowas in 1999 (why are these people smiling?)

As a recap, I have covered 1366 miles in 63 hiking days for about 21.5 miles per day. Numbers don’t tell the story because every day, mile, and bend in the trail unfolds independently. Poet David Whyte wrote the poem Start Close In, which is the perfect prompt for a long and uncertain journey. The opening stanza comes to mind when I look back at the first mile marker on the PCT.

Start Close In (First Stanza)
     Start close in,
     don’t take the second step
     or the third,
     start with the first thing
     close in,
     the step
     you don’t want to take
             David Whyte
Fortunately, these were not posted every mile.
I had to work through many issues to reach 100 miles
The 1000 mile mark was towards the end of the Sierra
The midpoint marker is fitting, an unremarkable post in a densely forested section of Mt. Lassen National Park
Categories
Hiking the PCT

Juneuary in Yosemite

Freezing wind and hail
will surely tear me apart.
Dawn comes, I'm still here.
          Rib's tent

Several days into my six-day, 117-mile hike from Mammoth Lakes to Sonora Pass, a day hiker gave me the title for this post. As I shared my misadventure, he said, “Oh, I guess you haven’t heard about Juneuary in Yosemite.” My blank face was a sufficient answer. By the way, Urban Dictionary defines Juneuary as a Washington thing.

Storm clouds hung over Ansel Adams Wilderness all afternoon before the storm broke loose.

During my first day after leaving Mammoth Lakes, I was hit by an unexpected storm that dropped the overnight temperatures into the teens with wind gusts to 40 mph and snow. It was the coldest night of the entire PCT. Fortunately, my tent held up and I stayed warm in my sleeping bag; it is the best.

Everything was frozen in the morning, including small streams.

I decided to get moving early to warm up – I had two passes to climb before getting to Tuolumne Meadows. The temperature was still below freezing but it had warmed by the time I summited Donohue Pass, the last pass over 11K feet. A ranger reminded me that I had entered Yosemite and, honestly, I thought it an odd comment. We have crossed through dozens of national forests, parks, and wilderness areas by this time. Looking back, he was also giving me a heads up that Yosemite is different.

I reached Thousand Island Lake before starting my first pass
Snow on the mountains surrounding Donohue Pass

Tuolumne Meadows is the gateway to Yosemite missed by 99% of park visitors. It starts with a series of beautiful meadows and the Lyell Fork of the Tuolumne River as it meanders through the smoothly polished granite peaks. From there, I descended into thick forests and met my new nemesis, the mosquito. The snowpack was deeper in Yosemite than the southern Sierra and had just melted. The one thing every backpacker knows is that you stay home in June when the masses rise from the still water looking for blood. Now I know that thru-hiker DNA dominates the mosquito gene pool. Those tiny beings can drive all of us sophisticated humans insane.

Your purpose is clear
to sip one drop of my blood
anger is no match
          Ribs (trying to chill out)
Hiking by the Lyell Fork of the Tuolumne River
The deep forests of Yosemite were such a contrast to previous barren landscapes.
Dorothy Lake provided a breeze to keep the bugs at bay during an extended lunch stop.

The third challenge in Yosemite started on day 3, the quantity and pitch of the climbs. The peaceful meadows turned into repeated 1000 foot climbs and descents over “trails” that looked more like scenes from Mordor.

Days three through five included an unrelating series of named and unnamed passes over this rugged terrain.
This is one of the more organized trail sections with others looking like stream beds. About 20% of the hikers I talked with developed ankle or knee issues from the constant pounding.

The final day was amazing as I climbed out of Yosemite into the Edison and Emigrant Wilderness areas. The landscape completely changed to wide open climbs and vistas stradling Mt. Leavitt. I was ecstatic to meet Pleasure-Way for a much-needed zero, and we were lucky to give Magic Marker and Steps a lift into town.

The climb was gradual switchbacks but had five different summits to view every side of this new landscape.
The wind provided a constant light show reflected from the lake
Magic Marker and Steps getting recharged on the way into town
Categories
Hiking the PCT

Big Week

Thru-hiking like life
brings toil and uncertainty
to ask who am I?
                       Ribs

I am writing from the comfort of a motel in Mammoth Lakes. I came off the trail today after the most physically challenging week so far with a profound appreciation of the scenic beauty and the responsibility we assume when thru-hiking. In seven days I covered 123 miles with 32K elevation gain from eight passes averaging over 11K feet.

I was joined by my nephew, Peter, an experienced Sierra climber and back country skier. His presence boosted my confidence to navigate the three highest passes with snow.

Kearsarge Pass, at nearly 12K feet, is required just to get back to the PCT
Glen Pass, our second 12K pass of the first day, required several steep snow field traverses – not a big deal for Peter but I fell several times
Looking back at Glen Pass from the Rae Lakes

I could have written a nice post titled “Big Day – The Sequel” after two major climbs on the first day. But we were just getting started. Every day we climbed as quickly as possible to summit the next pass before the snow got too soft or possible afternoon thunderstorms materialized. We then dropped 3K feet to the valley floor to camp before starting the sequence again. It makes me tired just listing our Big Week itinerary.

  • Day 1: Kearsarge 12K and Glen 12K
  • Day 2: Pinchot 12K
  • Day 3: Mather 12K
  • Day 4: Muir 12K
  • Day 5: Selden 11K
  • Day 6: Silver 11K
  • Day 7: Mammoth 10K
We met him at first light of day 2 sharing the river valley, the first of many deer over the week
Pinchot Pass featured the barren moonscape of the southern Sierra
Looking back from Mather to Pinchot Pass showed our day 3 work

Peter and I were most concerned about Muir Pass because of the snow depth. It was the most scenic section of the PCT so far. The intense azure blue of the lakes and sky radiated off the snow and ice.

Peter leads the way up Muir Pass
The John Muir shelter, built in 1930, saves lives when storms close in on this highly exposed landscape
Wanda Lake, north of Muir Pass, defines radiance
The ice flow moved with the wind, I had to peel my eyes away lest I would still be sitting there

The descent from Muir took us into the magical Evolution Valley. I have tried to hike this section for years but permits and fires have intervened. It is the transition from the barren Sierra peaks to the lush forests that stretch from valley floor to alpine lakes.

We shared our campsite view with the residents of Evolution Valley

The constant pounding of the descents took a toll on Peter. He dealt with a daily barrage of blisters but then he re-activated knee issues that quickly escalated. He decided to hike 16 miles out rather than continue 45 more miles and risk an evacuation. It was a hard decision but demonstrated the most important responsibility we have in remote wilderness situations – know your limits at every moment. Later we concluded the issue was likely using climbing approach shoes. Every thru-hiker tweaks their gear, food, and body care over weeks and months – Peter had five days.

Foot care at its best

I continued north to finish the last three passes and 45 miles. I had hiked this section with Jenessa in 2017 so it was fun to experience the trail again and remember the trip that inspired me to hike the PCT.

Silver Pass was number seven and a crazy day of climbing
After a full meal, I decided to take on a mammoth mud pie. You’re damn right I finished it with an audience at the next table.
Categories
Hiking the PCT

Cascading

In our attempt to hike the entire PCT this summer, we have been jumping north to hike short sections of the trail while waiting for the snow to melt in the Sierra. These disjointed sections were, in fact, a wonderful introduction to the Cascade Mountains. I hiked 214 miles from Belden to Castle Crags State Park on I-5 in four hikes over nine days through the Mt. Lassen and Mt. Shasta National Forests.

This sign announcing entry into the Cascades Range is 400 PCT miles from the Oregon border.

In my initial attempt to hike up north three weeks ago, Home Alone, I didn’t see many people but did find signs of bears and plenty of snow. These themes continued as I encountered only five parties backpacking over the entire distance. It was unnerving at first, but I came to appreciate the solitude. Signs of bears continued, and I spent time trying to understand their activities – I never saw one, which is always the goal. And, yes, the snow found new ways to tease and torment, reminding me that I am simply a visitor in nature’s house.

Looking 30 miles south at Mt. Lassen from Hat Creek Rim
Looking 100 miles north at Mt. Shasta from Hat Creek Rim
A recent bear print near Mt. Lassen
Bear scat full of Juniper berries inspired me to alert them near Juniper groves.

The next time we jumped north to avoid a snowstorm in the Sierra came after The Amazing South Sierra. I began by hiking a 46-mile section near Mt. Lassen, thinking that the worst of the snow would hit in the Sierra. I stayed with Pleasure-Way after completing that section and was surprised to find four inches of snow at our campsite the next day and likely six to eight inches covering my planned route. We decided to make a quick dash home and found that the snow stretched far north into Oregon at PCT trail elevations.

Fresh snow on May 20 at Old Station near Mt. Lassen 2,500 feet below where I was hiking the day before
The snow highlighted the magnificent trees in the Mt. Lassen National Park

We returned after a few days to complete the section. I will leave you with some visual and poetic images of the southern Cascade Mountains. I look forward to hiking the remaining 1,150 miles of the Cascades after I complete the Sierra.

The Sugar Pine trees were the winner in the pine cone category, with a close second going to the Gray Pines.
My campsite at sunrise looking down on Lake Almanor
Snow plants signal the start of spring, bursting forth from snowbanks
Emerging from snow
everything given freely
sweet nectar of life.
              Ribs