Three Directions

I've been anxiously anticipating the day when he PNT joins the PCT for some 14 glorious miles. How many times does that phrase, "your old stomping grounds," ring true? I stomp a lot, but this is where it all began, where I first became a hiker, where my life changed forever. 

It was glorious. It was beautiful. It was more than I could have ever imagined. My smile was so wide at the trail junction that it nearly reached both ears... even with a busted ankle. I can't quite express the feeling inside of me, but I'll tell you, it goes on the list of top moments in life. The views... Holy Cow, I didn't remember how epic this section was, too. World class. I saw more hikers on the PCT than on my entire hike thus far. 

Last year on my PCT SOBO hike, I thought I was a goner when I fell on a snow traverse crossing Rock Pass... It would be the third time crossing it now in 13 months. Looks like the trail crew did some amazing maintenance because I ran across the scree and pass in record time. I want to buy the trail crew a round of beers, because their work certainly made a world of difference. 

I ran into a SOBO hiker, Energizer Bunny from my home town, who was just beginning her 2,660 mile hike. We convinced another NOBO hiker, Keister, who was miles from finishing his first thru, to camp with us at Holman pass. Holman Pass... It was my first campsite ever on trail! I'm thinking about you, Julia! Three hikers walking in three directions. It was magic. I had extra food and cooked us all dinner while we stayed up late sharing stories. We all cowboy camped together under the stars and Keister shared a song he wrote on trail. I've got goosebumps remembering the night. 

This is why we hike. This is what it's all about. Worlds colliding and strangers coming together as family. We all have some wild stories, but how special to build new ones together. 

Serendipitous

Drakesbad Guest Ranch is a dream come true. I woke up at 4:30 a.m. to make it in time for breakfast. I missed a trail junction and had to backtrack a mile. Uggggh. They stop serving at 8:30, so I ran the last two miles in order to make it in time. Oh, what hikers will do for all you can eat meals. With ten minutes to spare, the famous Ed greeted me with a huge hug and made me feel like I was home.

A beautiful family from San Jose invited me to dine with them, and I couldn't be more happy. Who else should I find in the dinning room? None other than the gorgeous NOBO hiker, 300. We crossed paths on the trail outside of Trout Lake and I remember saying that we'll meet again because I was so moved by her energy. Even though we only shared a few words in passing, that woman left a big impression on me. How cool to see her with her family now that she finished her hike. 

After breakfast, I headed down to the hot spring fed pool where I met four others celebrating a birthday. When you see red plastic cups out before 10:00 A.M., it can only mean one thing: Bloody Mary's. Who told them I would be coming? They ran back to the car to fix me up with one... home pickled asparagus, lime and garlic stuffed olive included. Oh, life is good... sometimes, too good to believe. 

Magic

I don't want to write too much here, because part of the magic is being completely surprised by what is in store. The Wild Bird Cache blew my mind. People told me that my faith in humanity would be restored by this hike, and I can fully confirm that they were correct. Strangers, complete strangers, have gone out of their way to support us hikers, often times without even making an appearance. Support is too insignificant a word, but it will have to do. Thank you Randy, Cathy and Bandit, not just for your generosity, but also for teaching us how to be outstanding humans.

Da Bears Are Back

Dad was right when he told me that there might be more wildlife pushed on trail from the drought and fire zones. In just two days I saw countless dear and FOUR bears! I was so happy to meet up with some more SOBOs, too. Suddenly, we ran into a momma bear and her two cubs. The little babies shimmied up the closest tree (how successful is bear baggin anyway?) and big momma rushed ahead down the trail to the left. We all know that you don't ever want to cross a mom and her cubs, so we backtracked a good distance and waited 20 minutes to let them handle their business. 

I was much slower than these hikers and camped behind. The next night, I watched the most beautiful sunset and thought of my own mom. I set out my bag to sleep under the stars, when I heard some rustling in the bushes. I swear when I say, 40 feet ahead on the trail, a teenage bear popped out and stared me straight in the eye. He ran ahead too quick for me to snap a photo, and left me wondering about my safety. What are you supposed to do? Pack up and move ahead a few miles? I was too tired for that, so I just talked to myself loudly until I fell asleep, using my food bag as a pillow. I'm sure the smell of cold mashed potatoes did nothing to attract him back.

Track marks!

Favorite Men In The Whole Wide World

My father and the love of my life drove up to pay me a visit in Ashland. What a special treat! I'm so thankful to have these two amazing souls in my life and to be able to share a little piece of my journey with them... And I love that I get my makeup, tweezers and sexy dress delivered for a day of indulgement. I have no shame about it.

When I look at the people I admire, I often think of who raised them. For better or worse, we owe so much of who we are to our parents. My father taught me how to be kind and optimistic. Some of the childhood struggles helped me become determined and brave. I'm not sure who I got the ceaseless need for adventure from, but I'm sure pops had a hand in that, too. And as for Chris, what a catch of a man. We celebrated our two year anniversary apart yesterday while I was back on trail. Every sunset I see, I'm wishing he was by my side. Nothing better in life than finding your partner in crime.

It sure was difficult to say goodbye, but this show must go on.  Thanks for dropping me off and getting me past the fire closures safely. Love and miss you both dearly! Everyday now, I'm getting closer and closer to you.

Bloody Mary Does A Double-Mary

What exactly is a Double-Mary? Well, I'm glad you asked... It's when you hike the distance of two marathons in one day. That's 52.4 miles, ladies and gentlemen, in 24 hours.

I finally caught up to my first SOBO hikers (Councilman, Ghost, Thumper, and Coach) in Shelter Cove. Man, was it good to share stories with people who've made it through the same terrain. It's been over a month since I hiked with another person, so this was a nice change in routine. 

The Councilman and I woke up at 3:30 a.m. and hit the trail ten minutes later, bags soaked from the lake dew. We relied on our headlamps and GPS until the sun greeted us with a steamy view.

Early bird gets the worm

The first 33 miles were as easy as a Sunday morning. We flew down and up and down the mountains, hitting the highest point on trail of Washington and Oregon before 2:00 PM and then breaking for 90 minutes at Thielson creek. This would be our last water supply for 27 miles and required us to carry full water capacity. I know PCT hikers attempt the Double-Mary challenge in Oregon, but maybe we chose the wrong stretch? I would like to add here that I was also weighing my pack down with 2 pounds of rocks (freakin hippy) and a 5 pound camera. But hey, when else will I ever be in this kind of shape or have this kind of opportunity?

It was surprisingly easier than I had expected... That is, until the last 8 miles. My socks were full of sand, rubbing filth into my four new blisters, my energy was dropping and we were back to night hiking with headlamps. With only 1.5 miles to go, I nearly dropped off. I rested for a few minutes with a cigarette, probably the worst idea so far, and felt all the color sucked out of my body in the dark. I nearly passed out. There was no way I could give up this close to our silly goal. Mind over matter, baby, and I mustered up my last reserves of energy to make it a full 54.5 mile day before midnight. 

There is no way I could have done this on my own... now that I think of it, there is probably no way I would have ever wanted to, either. But let me tell you, I feel like a million bucks. I've been trying to earn capital letters to my bad ass status, and I think I might just be on my way.

BAD ASS

Keeps On Getting Better

What a great day! Hiking towards the Sisters, I ran into the Liverstrong couple, Julia and Philip, two other hikers part of the mYAMAdventure program. They were hard to miss with that stellar Yama tent pitched in the shade. We first met at the ADZPCTKO (kick off) some four months earlier. What a trip to see them again as they close in on the border. Thanks for the Black Velvet pick me up! I truly feel part of this community even if I've only hiked a quarter of what they've accomplished. 

A half mile later, I got the surprise of my life with the pop up trail angels, Chef and Jerry Pan. As soon as I arrived at their decked out RV, they asked if I wanted a cappuccino. What? Five minutes later and I had three mouthwatering flaxseed wild huckleberry pancakes in front of me covered with bananas, toasted walnuts, syrup and BUTTER. Yum! I stuck around for for a few hands of Texas Holdem, and what do you know, lunch was served. Barbecued chicken finished off in the pressure cooker to make the most delicious burrito of my life. Did I mention the spanish rice with fresh mango salsa? These people are my heroes. I fell in love that day with their food and generosity. I was only able to hike some 15 miles, but the company was worth being a little behind. All part of the experience.

Another Day On The PCT

Mornings have become more of a struggle recently. I can feel the temperature drop as we get closer to fall. I still wake up at 5:30, but it's taking me a few extra hours to unzip my cozy little bag and face the day. A stove is starting to sound real nice. 

One morning was particularly difficult. I hit my internal snooze button five times before packing up. It wasn't raining, but the drizzle managed to make everything wet and the wind was relentless. One advantage to hiking SOBO is that I've been through worse. This was nothing compared to the earlier storm I was stuck in up at Fire Creek Pass. I can handle it. 

Just as my morale was starting to fade, I bumped into this Bad Ass NOBO chicka with a cigarette in her hand and an ear to ear smile. We stopped for a few minutes and shared stories and laughs. She had two ankle braces and needed surgery, but that didn't stop her. These thru hikers are a different breed of human. There was no view, we were both cold and wet, but her company lit up my soul. Again, it felt like the best day ever.

People on the trail are like the vistas, both so breathtakingly special... but then you leave 'em behind, never knowing if you'll see them again. Memories. I'm holding on tight to these memories.

A Little More Wild

People often talk about the change one experiences when being alone in nature for an extended period of time. It's happening. I can't quite describe it, but I can give an example.

Hummingbirds have been special to me since my mothers passing. She said she would send them, and the day after her death, a little beauty flew into my 4th floor downtown apartment back home in San Jose. Fast forward to the start of my PCT journey... We parked at Hart's Pass and as soon as I set my pack down and lit my last cigarette (ha), a hummingbird flew right up to my nose, maybe four inches from my face, to wish me well on the journey. I know they are common out here, but every once in a while, you can feel a presence more profound.

At the Big Lake Youth Camp in Oregon, a worker found a dead hummingbird on he porch. I managed to keep it, but knew it would rot in my pack. This little sweetheart was nearly weightless and still looked alive with its glossy eyes. I held it close to me for several hours before taking a sliver of obsidian to slice off its wings and claws and then I buried its body under a tree. Uhgggg.... What kind of person have I turned into? I just mutilated a flying beauty to pack out part of its body. My hands trembled and heart felt raw. I remember reading that children who torture animals turn into psychopaths... But this one was already dead. People pay big bucks at Paxton Gate in San Francisco for their taxidermy treasures, so is it really wrong for me to carry a set of weightless wings on my journey? Maybe. Maybe not. I don't know, but I definitely feel like a different kind of wild human out here after that experience.

ashes to ashes dust to dust

Lost Without You

I got lost four times since my love bug dropped me back off at Cascade Locks on the Oregon border. Four times in two and a half days. I lost my knife, too. I was pushing 30+ miles in Washington but dropped to an average of 16 since I kissed him goodbye.

Lost might be the wrong word, I was just moving in the wrong direction. I intentionally took two alternate routes (Eagle Creek and Ramona Falls), and unintentionally returned to the PCT heading North. Extra mileage and weight just makes you stronger, right? That's what I thought after the first mistake... Lesson not learned. 

I think it is his fault. I'm missing that handsome face so much; it's deflating my energy and distracting my concentration. The trail is still spectacular, but what good is that if I can't share it with my special someone?

Mom always told me, "you are in exactly the place you're supposed to be." I think this is my lesson... I know how lucky I am to have you, Christopher Nelson Landon, and I love you more every day. Thank you for being my rock and letting me become a better person as I walk the trail. And thank you for the love note you hid my tent... I needed it more than you could have imagined.

I'm a day behind schedule now, but got to see a gorgeous baby mountain mouse and fantastic sunset view of Mt. Hood. Not to mention, a delicious 3 round breakfast at the Timberline Lodge. 

OK, Oregon, let's see what you bring me tomorrow.

Oh, it's the little things that make me smile.

Where did you come from, Mt. Hood?