I’ve now fully come to terms with the fact that I won’t be catching up on my blog posts from the past few weeks. A lot has happened, for sure, but I simply don’t have the time, energy, or even the battery power to share all of these stories. I’ll continue writing what I can and sharing some of the best (and worst) moments on trail, but don’t expect anymore play-by-play style posts. For the sake of time in putting together this post, I’ll simply share some pictures and brief commentary. I’m only in town about once every 6 or 7 days now, and I mostly use that time to shop, eat, and plan. As much as I’d like to share every little detail of my hike with friends and family, it’s simply not feasible for me anymore.
The End of the Desert
Week 6 was my final week in the Desert/SoCal section of the PCT. I hiked from Mojave, CA to Kennedy Meadows, CA, wrapping up the first 703 miles of trail.
This final week in the desert was quite possibly the most strenuous week on trail to date. With tough climbs, record-high temperatures, and the longest water-carries yet, this final 137 miles of desert was exhausting.
After leaving Mojave, the trail climbed up intosome high desert forest and I thought “wow, this must be where we start to see the desert transition into more Sierra-like terrain.” I was so wrong. After a brief 1.5 days of tree cover, I was dropped right back into scorching hot desert. The only respite from the sun were small patches of shade under Joshua Trees. I learned to take advantage of this shade whenever possible and committed myself to taking at least an hour-long siesta every day to escape from the heat and to give my feet a good break from the constant climbing and descending.
The Long Awaited Sierra
On June 1st, hours after catching my first glimpse of the distant snow-capped peaks of the High Sierra, I was welcomed back into the mountains by an afternoon thunderstorm that quickly escalated into one of the scariest hailstorms that I’ve ever experienced. After getting completely drenched, I learned an important lesson that day about rain protection, and promptly bought a more suitable (albeit slightly less ultralight) rain jacket.
Upon arriving at the Kennedy Meadows General Store, we were greeted by great applause and a ringing bell – a famed tradition, celebrating a hiker’s success in finishing the first major section of the PCT. We used the next 3 days to calorie load and prepare our packs for the Sierra (now outfitted with bear cans and snow-travel gear like microspikes and ice axes).
Mt Whitney
On my 50th day on the PCT, I summited Mt. Whitney for the second time. At 14,505ft, Mt Whitney is the highest peak in the lower 48 states. Most PCT hikers choose to tackle this summit by waking up around 1am, so they can reach the top by sunrise. I, however, chose to summit it mid-morning, as I’m not a huge fan of hiking on zero sleep. Justin and I woke up around 4am and hit the trail by 5am. After a little bit of scrambling and some limited snow travel, we reached the summit around 9:30am and enjoyed some amazing panoramic views of both the Sierra to the west and Owen’s Valley to the east.
The High Passes
The Sierra section of the PCT is renowned for its high passes. Of these high passes, there are five that hold considerable snow. That being said, it’s typically recommended that early season hikers try get up and over these passes in the early morning, while the snow is still firm. I was able to get early morning starts for a few of the passes, but I ended up climbing a few of them mid day as well. Fortunately, I do feel very confident with my snow travel skills from having tackled these same passes under the same conditions while hiking the JMT in 2023. I was even able to take full advantage of ice axe on a few to “glissade” down (sliding down a steep snow slope on your butt.)
Water Crossings
In addition to snow, the Sierra presented a new obstacle in the form of water crossings. In the Desert section, we relied heavily on the very few and far between natural water sources. In the Sierra, water is everywhere. While access to such an abundance of water is great for staying hydrated, it also poses some risk, as we frequently have to cross raging creeks and rivers as we make our way north along the trail.
The Rest of the Sierra and Beyond
To be totally honest, it’s been a tough two weeks so far. My feet are wet every single day. I’ve woken up to frozen shoes on more than one occasion. I’ve fallen into a creek and bruised my hip. I’ve slipped on a wet rock and cut open my shin (an injury I’m still recovering from.) I’ve lost gear and I’ve lost friends. I’ve been hungry, cold, and exhausted. I’ve questioned my own judgement more times than I count. The list goes on. It’s been hard going, and sometimes, it’s been a little scary.
However, it’s also been unbelievably refreshing to be back in the Sierra. The sights, the sounds, the smells, and every waking moment here mean the world to me. I’ve seen so much amazing plant life and wildlife. The mountain views have been jaw-dropping, the lakes hypnotizing, and the night sky absolutely breathtaking. I wouldn’t trade my experience here for anything in the world. I wish the photos I take could share even 1% of the beauty I’ve seen with my own eyes.
Currently, I’m in Mammoth Lakes, CA. I’ve hiked about 904 miles of the 2,653 mile PCT. (1/3 done!) I have about 200 miles of the Sierra Nevada section left to hike, although I expect snow travel and water crossings to be very minimal from here forward as the trail gets lower and lower in elevation. (from 10k average to 7k to 8k averages). Over the next few weeks, I’m hoping to do as much forest soaking as I can. The Sierra is by far my favorite place in the continental United States and I plan to take full advantage of the rest of my time here.
Week 5 was painful. Although I’d mostly found my groove hiking solo again and was doing my best to stay focused on my goals and not get distracted with “playing the game” or racing from town to town, I found it a bit difficult to focus on the present whilst in so much physical discomfort.
From long days in the sun and being constantly bombarded by hurricane winds, to battling an excruciatingly painful eye infection, and popping blisters nearly every day, it’d be an understatement to say that my body took a beating this week. I’m exhausted and it’s honestly so hard not to worry about the challenges ahead.
Although the Desert/SoCal section is almost over, the trail is not going to get any easier. I won’t be as worried about long water carries or sun exposure while in the Sierra, but I’ll certainly still be battling blisters, hunger, and soon miles of snow and serious elevation.
For now, I’d like to take a moment to recognize my achievements thus far and to express my gratitude for the experiences, good and bad, that Southern California has had to offer me. I’ve been shocked with the sheer diversity of this section. Every day has been full of surprises. From the mountains to the desert floor, So Cal is teeming with life and beauty. The terrain has been challenging and occasionally unforgiving, but also awe inspiring and enlightening. The desert is raw, rugged, and undeniably beautiful.
The last 566 miles have taught me a lot about myself, my priorities, and my fellow hikers. I’ve learned that I like to spend my days alone, but that I also love to share as many moments as I can with other hikers and angels. We’re all in this together, although often for different reasons. It’s great to meet so many people from so many different walks of life. I could never have this sort of social exposure at home, and to that end I’m truly “seeking discomfort” as originally planned. I can’t wait to see how we’re all doing and feeling in another 500 miles!
I started the week with a long, hot hike from Agua Dulce, up and over several mountains into Green Valley. It was a 25 mile day and a pretty decent suffer fest. I initially made the decision to push so far from Agua Dulce because of how many hikers were camped at the Oasis the night prior. I felt like I had gone too far into the “bubble” and felt the urge to get as far ahead as I could so I could have some nights alone. That didn’t really end up working out. By the time I got to Green Valley to camp, I realized another 14 hikers were right behind me and had their eyes set on the same spot. It was a busy night at the Green Valley Fire Station that night!
Although I was bummed to not have a campsite to myself, I ended up meeting some really nice people who I ended up camping near for the rest of the week. It really is nice knowing people are around, even if you aren’t hiking with them or making specific plans to camp together. A group of hikers really doesn’t have to spend every waking moment together to be a “trail family.”
The next day was defined by one prominent feature – Poodle Dog Bush. PDB, as we call it on trail, is the only thing that scares hikers more than an empty grocery store. It’s the most dangerous plant on the Desert portion of the PCT and, unfortunately, a plant that many hikers fail to identify in time. It looks and smells somewhat like Cannabis, but touching it can cause serious skin irritation and allergic reactions, apparently much more severe than poison oak.
Unfortunately for me, I failed to read a warning on Farout (the app we use for navigating the trail and communicating about various resources and hazards). The warning advised hikers to take a road walk alternative to avoid a 4 mile stretch of trail overgrown with PDB. I ended up hiking that whole stretch not knowing about the alternative route. I felt like I was a spy in some 90s action flic, dodging lasers left and right. A discarded sun hoody on the side of the trail spoke volumes – someone must have panicked after getting a little too close to the PDB. Did they hike all the way to town shirtless after that? I can’t say I’d blame them either way, this stuff is real scary.
After getting to camp, I had another obstacle to overcome – getting water out of a cistern with an opening just narrow enough to fit the top half of my body into. Several hikers before me had failed to fit into the opening to get water – I took this as a challenge. Sure enough it was a tight fit. I had to take a deep breath in and could only get as far as my hips, which fortunately was just enough for me to to reach in and scoop two liters of water into my water bladder. I had to take another very deep breath to back out of the cistern. I wonder if anyone has been stuck in one of these before? Do animals every crawl in there and die? The things we do for water out here! (Oh and I hit 500 miles today – that’s almost 20% of the trail!!)
After a pretty restless night battling the wind and getting some dust in my eye, I got moving around 9am – a very late start for a hiking day. Besides my eye hurting a bit, it was a great day. My next stop was the famed Hiker Town, the sort of shanty town community that represents the transition from the desert mountains of the Angeles Forest to the real, raw, painfully hot and dry Mojave desert.
After descending down to the desert below, the trail was suddenly flat – something I had never experienced up until this moment on the PCT. I approached Hiker Town, not quite knowing what to expect. Nothing could ever have really prepared me for this place. I had read a lot of mixed reviews over the past few weeks, but it was truly so much stranger than Farout comments or reddit posts could have ever prepared me for.
To this day, I don’t actually know who owns Hiker Town or anything about how or when it came to be, and I honestly don’t even want to know. In summary, Hiker Town is a sort of basecamp for PCT hikers preparing to start the aqueduct section of trail – a very flat, 20ish mile hike along the LA aqueducts (which essentially direct water from the Sierra Nevada to Los Angeles through a 340 mile long series of pipelines and canals.
The aqueduct section is notorious for being extremely dangerous, as hikers have no opportunities to shelter from the sun or heat of the Mojave Desert. That being said, most hikers do this section of trail overnight – many turning it into a bit of a rave, using glowsticks, electronic music, and psychedelics to guide them from Hiker Town to the mountains on the other side of the aqueduct. Being so close to the end of the desert section of the PCT seems like a great excuse for a little party, although I’m not sure if night hiking on unfamiliar terrain and psychedelic drugs are the best mix, but HYOH. (hike your own hike)
Anyways, back to Hiker Town. (Apologies in advance for a long a read here..) This place is beyond strange. Upon arriving, I was greeted by a dozen or so hikers hiding from the sun under a large tree. Most of these hikers intended to hike out that night to complete the aqueduct section. I asked who I should speak to about camping there that night and got mixed responses. One hiker suggested I just put my tent up in the back and not say anything, another suggested I wait for a woman named Martha to come so I could pay her. Before I could do either, an old man and his strange semi-shirtless companion appeared and shouted “STORE. WHO WANTS TO GO TO THE STORE?” Assuming this would be my last chance to take advantage of such an opportunity, I raised my hand. I made my way to a truck out back and was joined by three other hikers.
The other hikers made their way into the backseat of the truck while I was distracted petting a cat. The driver told me to get in the back of the truck, as his buddy was going to ride shotgun, so I obliged and hopped in the bed of the truck. This drew a very unexpected response as both men started shouting at me angrily to get inside of the truck. “I thought you said to get in the back,” I said. The driver’s friend directed me to sit in the middle seat up front and then asked where I was from. He then says “Oh of course, New Mexico. You can just do whatever the fuck you want there.” He then explained that riding in the bed of a truck in California was illegal and would get them a $1k ticket if they were caught.
The rest of the ride was pretty awkward and uncomfortable as the driver and his friend made crude dick and ball jokes and recounted stories of falling asleep while driving on the freeway. After the ride, a couple hikers pointed out that the driver was swerving well into the left lane for most of the 10 minute drive down to the store.
The store itself was pretty weird as well. The front room was a cafe/mini grocery store stocked with unpriced random hiker snacks and treats, many of which were clearly just purchased at Wal-Mart (Great Value brand). This was later confirmed when I saw a hiker dressed in hot pink stocking products onto the shelves from Walmart shopping bags. (Does he work here now? Is this what happens to bad hikers?) The back room was a sort of dining room with a full size keyboard and a handful of other instruments. Upon entering, two hikers were attempting to play “Wagon Wheel” on guitar and cello, but both stopped playing right as I entered and stood there frozen in silence until I backed out of the room.
After ordering a couple of tacos from the cafe, I went out to the patio out front. I walked in on a very loud conversation between an Israeli man and a Japanese hiker. The man was trying to ask the hiker about the legality of marijuana in Japan, but language barriers made the conversation very confusing and drawn out. Before leaving, the man whispered to the cafe attendant that the hiker was from Hiroshima – she clearly didn’t know what he was talking about, so he elaborated “you know the city the Americans bombed in WW2. She responded “oh no, poor thing..”
After getting our food, I joined a few hikers in the dining room. The hiker I had seen stocking shelves earlier sat at our table and started ranting, uninterrupted for at least 20 minutes. (Something he would end up doing almost every day for the next two weeks moving forward) For the sake of time, I’ll skip the details here, but there are some pretty hot headed, self centered people on this trail. We sat there for another hour or so wondering if we’d ever get a ride back, as there was clearly a gap in communication regarding the subject of returning to Hiker Town.
Eventually Martha showed up and about 8 of us piled into her van. When we got back to Hiker Town, I asked her about renting a “cabin” for the night and she showed me to a little shed dressed up in spray paint to look like an old western bank. (The whole “town” was themed like this, with a sheriff’s office, salloon, etc.) Inside the small shed was a tiny bed that looked like it was straight out of the 19th century and behind it a wall adorned with plastic guns for some reason? I didn’t ask any questions. Martha put her hands out and said “you pay me now. $20.”
The next morning, I made the mistake of going back to the store for breakfast, where things were just as weird as the day before. I eventually got a ride back to Hiker Town and spent the rest of the day sort of just biding my time and waiting for sunset. I also tried my hardest not to touch or rub my left eye, as the irritation from two nights before was now at its very worst, and my eye was bright pink. I resorted to removing my contact lens and wearing my shades all day as it was now extremely sensitive to the sun as well.
Throughout the day, more and more hikers rolled into town and began preparing for the aqueduct hike. Some groups or “tramilies” (Trail families) were getting dressed up in face paint and glow sticks and discussed plans to eat shrooms or drop acid. Other groups discussed plans of hiking all the way to Tehachapi in one go (ie 50 miles nonstop) Myself and a former AT hiker, Clay planned to head out an hour before sunset and just hike as far as we could that night. There was no need to go crazy or do anything reckless right now, especially considering the state of my eye. (Which I was now thinking could actually be pink eye)
Clay and I got back on trail around 6 that evening, just as planned. The trail began by leading us through a few farms and across a handful of dirt roads before dropping us directly onto the LA aqueducts. We walked right on the pipe for the first few miles – it was really strange, but a lot of fun to be on new terrain. We caught an amazing sunset through the joshua trees lining the aqueduct and eventually found ourselves back on a dirt road for the last few hours of the hike. By 10pm, I was exhausted. I couldn’t imagine hiking through the whole night, like some people intended. Clay and I set up camp around midnight and I fell asleep within a few quick minutes- my easiest night of sleep thus far!
After a warm, cozy night cowboy camping (camping without your tent) under the stars, I was ready to push onward through the windfarm and up into the Tehachapi Mountains. I felt great..for the first 5 minutes. Once the hurricane force winds kicked in, it was clear why such a large wind farm (3rd largest in the world) had been installed here in the first place. The wind was out of this world. I could barely keep myself up right.
After pushing for another 5 miles or so, I had made it to the first natural water source of the section. There were a dozen or so hikers already there, hiding in every available patch of shade available. I took an hour or so long siesta while chatting plans with fellow hikers. Many intended to only hike another 10 or so and call it a day, but I wanted out of the desert, so I decided to push an additional 17 or so miles to Willow Springs Road.
The rest of the day’s hike was miserable, to say the very least. My eye was hurting more than ever, the sun was absolutely relentless, and the wind never did really let up, even up into the mountains. The climb up from the spring to the top of the mountains was about 4000ft and was completely exposed the entire time, I really can’t recall a single tree.i had to listen to music the entire time just to push through the pain, a first for my PCT hike.. The climb down was equally miserable, as it led me back into another wind farm. My body was beat and I was ready to be back in my tent.
The following morning, some of the guys I camped with decided they wanted to hitch into town early from Willow Springs Road. I didn’t want to have to come back and complete the 8 mile hike between Willow Springs and the highway later on, so I pushed onward. The next 8 miles were exhausting. Although I probably only spent about 3 hours or less on trail that morning and it was arguable very easy terrain, my feet were juat absolutely killing me. I had a new pinky toe blister and I just couldn’t be bothered to stop to take care of it. I was ready for a hotel room and a hot shower.
I caught up with another hiker friend near the highway and we caught a bus into Mojave, as all the rooms in Tehachapi were sold out for Memorial Day. Both of us intended on taking a “double-zero,” two days off of trail.
I spent my double-zero letting my blisters and my eye heal. Thankfully this was just enough time off of trail for both to improve significantly. I also made my way to the Tehachapi post office to mail some food forward and some assorted excess supplies back home – goodbye stove and cook pot! It’s cold-soaking only from this point forward.
Two weeks ago feels like a lifetime ago. Time doesn’t seem to work the same way when you’re on trail. I’m usually able to keep track of what day of the week it is, but the days feel like weeks, and the weeks feel like months. I’m typically on my feet from 7am to 6pm, with a few breaks here and there. Every footstep and every breath is intentional and I’ve got little to distract me from my thoughts throughout the day, so the days never really “slip away” like they do back home when I’m working or in my house. For that reason, every day, every hour, every minute, and every second has that much more meaning and weight.
Two weeks ago, I was at mile marker 318. I had just made the decision to leave the group I had been hiking with for the previous week and a half or so. I was out on my own again and had set my mind on staying solo and taking the time to “soak it all in” and spend a bit more time and thought on the scenery and life along the trail. As much as I enjoy hiking with good company, I also find it distracting. It’s easy to get lost in conversation and to lose focus on the world around you when other humans are present. Conversations quickly shift away from the present and into the past and the future and suddenly you’re not even in the wilderness anymore. Your body is on autopilot and your mind is a million miles away – something I’d really like to avoid when “nature soaking.”
One of my earlier trail friends had once said “I’m not out here to tour every gas station in Southern California” and that really stuck with me. I often need to remind myself to redirect my attention from how far I am from the next town or resupply and to focus instead on the trail in front of me and all the beauty presented by its surrounding scenery and wildlife. I’ve honestly found it a lot easier to do this now that I’m (mostly) on my own again. When hiking with a partner, or in a group, it’s easy to get carried away in the what/when/where/how. We’ll spend the day discussing where we’re going, how long it will take, and what we’re going to do when we get there.
I’m not saying I don’t have these thoughts when I’m solo, but I do find that I am a bit more “in the moment” and present with my surroundings. The sounds of birds chirping and lizards shuffling across the trail remind me that I’m not on a highway to the next gas station, but rather a dirt path that intentionally runs through as many wild and scenic places as possible. The PCT could easily be a straight line from border to border, but it isn’t. It was purposefully designed to follow every mountain contour, to pass by every lake and stream, and to lead hikers through every inch of raw, natural beauty imaginable. Why hike 2,653 miles if you aren’t going to soak in every single view along the way?
On day 22, I saw my first horned toad of the trail. He was quite a big guy and my first instinct was to reach forward and pet him with my index finger. Surprisingly, he allowed it and even seemed to encourage it as he didn’t flinch in the slightest as I rubbed his back for about ten seconds. Growing up, we always considered rubbing a horned toads back to be good luck. Although I only rubbed one toad’s back that day, I counted exactly seven on trail before day’s end. Is that double good luck?
Day 22 was also Mother’s Day. Shortly before starting the PCT, I purchased a small urn with my mother’s face on it, so that I could carry her ashes, and her memory, with me all the way to Canada (and beyond). The warmth of the small pendant against my chest has been very comforting to me and has made me feel a bit less alone on my journey. It’s also helped me to remind myself of one of the other reasons that I’m out here to begin with – to grieve.
That day, I felt my mother’s love in every step I took. Every bird that flew by me and every breeze that swept my face reminded me that I am not alone and that I am truly loved. While my mother would probably not have encouraged me to embark on this particular journey, I know that she still would have been my biggest supporter, regardless of how worried she’d have been. I know that her love, even 9 years after her death, will be exactly what allows me to reach my goals on this trail.
I was shocked at just how much life I saw on trail that day. Maybe it was the warmer weather, or maybe it was just me being more present with the trail and my journey, but I was grateful either way. All the lizards, snakes, birds, and flowers were showing off. This section of desert was teeming with life.
After about 25 miles, I had reached the famous PCT McDonald’s at Cajon Pass. One of those destinations that us hikers never stop talking about. I got there around 6pm, expecting to walk into a dining room stuffed with hikers applauding me like you see in YouTube videos, but instead got there only to discover I was the only one who had made that far that particular evening. That night, I was just another smelly hiker and the McDonald’s turned out to be just another gross pit stop along a freeway – another great reminder for me that it’s really what’s in between these iconic trail destinations that’s really important after all.
The next 2 days on trail were a bit more social that originally planned, but they were also very eye opening and meaningful steps in my journey that week.
The morning after leaving Cajon Pass, I came across a baby deer mouse (or maybe a kangaroo mouse) struggling on the side of the trail. Red ants were all over his tail and back, and one was even in his mouth seemingly stinging or gnawing on his tiny pink tongue. The little mouse was squeaking in pain. He was on a bit on an incline and kept rolling onto his back, struggling to keep upright. I felt sick to my stomach. Should I intervene? What do I even do?
I paced around looking for signs of other mice or a den where his mother and family might be waiting for him. I found nothing. After a few minutes, I decided I had to do something. Animals suffer all the time, and although what was happening was completely natural, it just felt wrong. Nobody deserves to die that way.
I moved him down the trail, away from the ant attackers, using two sticks like chopsticks to lift his little body up. I managed to get all of the ants off of his body using my sticks, struggling to pry the angriest ant out from his mouth. He was still squeaking in pain. I realized his eyes weren’t even open. He was too young to be on his own outside of the nest. He’d never make it. I got the ant out eventually and the squeaking stopped. After looking around again for signs of a nest, I resolved to just let the little guy be. I moved him off the trail so he wouldn’t be trampled and into a little rock nook where he’d hopefully be safe from the ants. Maybe his mother will find him or maybe a large bird will take him away as dinner for its family. Either way, he’d suffer a bit less now. I can’t imagine what else I could do for him, so I moved on.
Later that morning, while filling up at a water cache (thank you trail angels!), I met a hiker named Chezwick. Chezwick, as it turns out is a professional thru hiker, an FKT (fastest known time) record holder for several long trails. After chatting for a while, Chezwick revealed his goal of finishing the famed Calendar Year Triple Crown (PCT/AT/CDT) in under 220 days, a mind-blowing feat. For most, the PCT alone can take 5-6 months. Chezwick planned to finish the PCT in around 70 days, leaving another 150 days to finish the other two long trails, back to back.
Somehow, I managed to keep pace with Chezwick the rest of the day. We hiked 23 miles with 5700ft of elevation gain together that day. I was fascinated by his stories of past achievements and failures. Chezwick had really seen and done it all. With eleven years of thru hiking experience, numerous FKT records, and advice and suggestions for every inch of long trail in the US, his dedication to the sport was beyond impressive – but it also reminded me of my own goals.
The whole day I hiked with Chezwick, I saw very little of what was in front of me. Although the day was filled with tiring roadwalks and miles of burn scar from 2024’s Line Fire near Wrightwood, I realized that while hiking with Chezwick I was very distracted. His stories of fame, glory, and loneliness (go figure – hiking 40 miles a day can be a very lonely life!) had me hooked, but also pulled me away from the present. As much as I enjoyed getting to know how someone like Chezwick operates and hearing the inside scoop on the sport side of thru hiking, I think my most important lesson that day was to not let my hike become just that – a race to the finish line. I’m out here to enjoy the wild spaces between borders, not to set records or impress other hikers.
Unfortunately, the roadwalking was not over after my day with Chezwick. The following day, I joined two hikers, Justin and Jamie for an 8mile road walk out of Wrightwood towards Baden Powell. The previous year’s fires had shut down about 20 miles of trail, and our only options were to either hike the roads to and from Wrightwood to get back on trail at mi 374, or get a ride from a local – something I was trying to avoid in order to maintain my “continuous footpath” – more on that later, perhaps.
Fortunately, after that morning’s long walk up a closed highway, we were met with breathtaking views of Baden Powell covered in clouds. The hike up to the summit was steep and tiring, and we saw very little from up top due to aforementioned clouds, but it was an amazing experience.
I enjoyed hiking with a little group again, but I knew it wasn’t meant to be forever and that it wasn’t what I wanted in the long run anyway. The next morning, after a freezing cold night and a fairly late start, I told the boys I’d hike solo that day, but would probably meet them to camp later on.
For the next few days, we did just that. We’d camp and eat together in the evenings, maybe meeting midday at water sources, but not really planning anything in particular. During the day, I hiked alone and did what I wanted. I took my time and soaked in my surroundings.
On day 25, I walked what I call the “Toad Road” – another road walk, but this time to help protect an endangered frog species in the Angeles National Forest. This section of trail may be closed indefinitely at this point, but I’m all for doing my part to aid in conservation efforts. The roadwalk was only about 4 miles this time, so I spent the rest of the day enjoying real trail and some fun forest scenery. I also reached the 400 mile marker!
On day 26, I was stung by a bee while kneeling down at a water source. As I moved further west on trail that week, I was making my way out of the San Gabriel Mountains and back into the desert, so water started getting more and more scarce again. Less water typically means more wildlife at the few and far between sources, and in this case that meant a lot of bees! This was my first time I’ve being stung, and I think it may have been less of a sting and more of an “ouch, I just crushed a bee with my knee and it’s stinger happened to jab me!”
Later on that day, shortly before mile marker 420 (hehe), I stumbled upon some amazing trail magic. Marco, a local angel had set up at a fire station just off the trail and had pizza, snacks, fruit, beer, and weed for PCT hikers. I hung out for an hour or so and got my fill on pizza and fruit while catching up with some hikers I’d been seeing on and off the last few days. Nothing hits the spot like pizza, thanks Marco!
On Day 27, I made my descent down from the mountains toward the small town of Acton, where I had sent a resupply box. After getting water from another spring absolutely swarming with bees, I ran into an absolutely enormous rattlesnake. At this point I had already seen a rattlesnake on trail once before, and had heard tale of dozens from other hikers who I’d been minutes apart from, but this was my closest encounter. Surprisingly, I walked clear past the snake, maybe 6 inches away from its body without even noticing it and it didn’t make a single sound! Maybe I had unknowingly traded in my horned toad good luck at that moment?
After getting down to the highway, I grabbed my package from the nearby KOA and got a quick ride into town, where I stayed the night behind a western-themed restaurant that hosts hikers. (I also got a free meal from a local!)
The next day I took a “nearo” and used the morning to catch up on my last blog post. I eventually hit the trail around 3pm, just as the rain started – yay! The plan was to hike 8 miles or so to Vasquez Rocks, a nearby county park famous for its iconic rocks featured in some old Star Trek movie. Unfortunately, I had been misled into believing I could camp there, so I had to push another 4 miles into the town of Agua Dulce, where my only camping option for the night was at a so called “hikers oasis” aka some Farmer’s backyard where you have to pay $30 to camp next to 50 other noisy hikers!
Overall, week 4 was a very eye opening and insightful week for me on trail. Although I was technically alone again in the sense that I wasn’t part of an established group anymore, I quickly learned that I was never truly alone, what with all of my new animal friends and the love and courage gifted to me from my mother and my sweet Cappy. I was also reminded to focus on my real goals. I’m not out here to walk to every gas station or to get to Canada as fast as possible, I’m here to enjoy every inch of trail along those 2,653 miles.
I’m writing this blog a good bit behind schedule. It’s been getting harder and harder to find the time to write and to edit pictures. Typically, by the time I get to camp I’m pretty focused on eating and getting to bed. This may end up being the last long format style blog I write, at least for now. I may consider doing weekly recaps instead of day by day breakdowns for future posts. I’m starting to see the quality of my writing and story telling deteriorate, so I think my best move may be to try to keep things brief. More on that later.
Week 3 tested me. It was painful in many different ways and left me feeling absolutely defeated. From a tough, mentally draining and physically straining climb up a washed out creekbed to days on end fighting the relentless sun, I was starting to feel like I was fighting a losing battle. With nearly constant pain on my blistered toes and a food bag that never seemed to get lighter, I also started to question my planning and preparation.
However, by week’s end, I faced an even more difficult challenge – the decision to say goodbye to my newly formed trail family and to head out solo again, a decision fueled by a moment of frustration and a choice nurtured by a lifetime of isolation.
DAY 15
I spent last night at an old friend’s mom’s house. He lives in LA but his mom lives fairly close to the trail, so it worked out nicely for both of us. He got to visit his mom and I got a chance to get off trail during some particularly nasty weather.
After a lazy morning sleeping in, working on last week’s blog, and answering every possible hiking-related question imaginable, I eventually got back on trail around 1pm. The weather was not looking too great, and unfortunately, the forecast hadn’t changed much since last night. It looked to be snowing to the south on San Jacinto, as well as to the northwest on San Gorgonio. Thick rain clouds painted the sky in pretty much every direction.
I got on trail and passed through the small community of Whitewater. The plan was to hike about 16 miles and meet Biped and History for camp – both of whom had already started hiking much, much earlier. The rain spared me for a few hours, but I had to deal with some pretty heavy winds as I made my way through the Mesa Wind Farm.
Once I passed the office for the wind farm, the skies seemed to clear. I unzipped my rain jacket for some ventilation, but was weary of removing it just yet. I made the right choice, as it started raining just a mile or two past the wind farm. I trudged through rain and heavy winds for another few miles, as I made my way up a ridge, and then down to Whitewater River, the largest water crossing in the Desert Section of the PCT. The trail was a bit washed out at this point and it took a few minutes to find a decent place to cross the river. It was nothing compared to river crossings I’ve done on past hikes in the Sierra, but the water was swifter and deeper than anything I’d seen so far on this hike.
After crossing the river and somehow managing to keep my feet dry, I pushed onward up into the hills to the east of Whitewater. The trail climbed up yet another ridge, before flattening out for a couple of miles. I could now see the cloud-engulfed, snow capped San Jacinto in the far distance behind me. I couldn’t have been more grateful to be off that mountain today.
Unfortunately, even as far away as I was, it was raining a lot harder at this point and I was starting to get a bit uncomfortable. I was committed to meeting Biped and History tonight, as I didn’t fancy the idea of tackling the dangerous washed out portions of trail alone tomorrow.
The trail eventually dropped down into another canyon and began following the famed Mission Creek upstream. After crossing the creek, I spotted my friends’ tents. I somehow managed to get to the same tentsite, although i had started at least 4 hours after both of them. It was 7:30 by the time I got inside my tent, and I was absolutely elated to be out of the cold rain. I hung my jackets to dry on my pole in the vestibule and began preparing dinner.
I was just started to unwind when I realized the unimaginable had happened. My spoon was missing. It must have fallen out in the car. What a sad way to end an already miserable day. I guess I’ll be making all my meals into soups the next few days..
DAY 16
It rained pretty much the entire night. My rain jacket and pants never really had a chance to dry from yesterday’s hike. I packed up my gear and chatted with History, Biped, and their buddy Ed, who was also camped nearby. Everyone was a little shocked that I didn’t start my hike in until 1pm yesterday, considering the distance and the weather.
We all set out around 7:30 am, but after crossing into the notorious Mission Creek wash-out section, the group quickly fell apart. Biped and I stuck together for the rest of the day though.
We hiked through at least ten miles of washed out riverbed where the PCT and everything surrounding it had been completely obliterated by 2023’s Hurricane Hilary. The trail now only existed in small segments, 10 plus feet above the riverbed. I’ve never seen such intense erosion. I really struggle to imagine what the trail even looked like before the hurricane.
The hiking was rough, to say the least. Every step required careful planning, so as to avoid rolling ankles or slipping into the creek. We must have crossed Mission Creek 50 times today. Previous hikers had laid cairns along the riverbed, but they weren’t always useful and often contradicted one another. It was easier to just follow the creek upstream and look for the path of least resistance – ie less boulder hopping, less creek crossing, and more flat ground.
To make things worse, the sun was only out for maybe the first hour or so. The rest of the day was on and off sprinkling and ominous storm clouds gathered up creek from us. We eventually got to point where we saw fresh snow from the night prior on the hills above us. This was certainly disconcerting, as we knew we’d plan to camp at something like 8k ft tonight.
We pushed on. Eventually, we were back on trail (mostly) and started a rapid ascent up switchbacks above the creek. We were exhausted. Boulder hopping, mud sliding, tree hurdling, and creek crossing for 5 hours had broken us. We were desperate to get to camp.
At around 3pm, we’d finally made it. 14 miles and 5200 ft of vert later, we were at Mission Creek camp. This would have been light work three years ago before the hurricane, but now it’s arguably the most difficult section of the PCT in SoCal. No wonder so many people talk about skipping it.
After talking about food all day, we were ready to feast. Both of us had overpacked food, not knowing how long it would take us to get to the next town and both of us were obviously not eating enough anyway. I have a bad habit of just pushing through a day’s hiking without stopping to eat, and I worry it’s rubbing off on Biped. I crammed as many calories in as I could at camp, but it was almost too cold to even stand or sit still.
Snow clouds continued to gather in the hills behind our camp and a nasty wind kept ripping through as soon as things started feeling comfortable. Within another hour and a half, the rest of the group showed up and we paced around discussing our approaches to the day’s challenge. I also got caught with my pants down, mid cat-hole for the first time so far on this hike – hopefully this isn’t leading to any unfortunate trail names..
I can only hope the rest of the desert section is only half as demanding as the last few days have been!
Day 17
It was absolutely freezing last night. I could hardly sleep. It didn’t help that another hiker, an older gentleman who had never backpacked prior to hopping on the PCT, set up camp directly next to my tent just as I was getting ready for bed. He was in his tent rummaging around for hours on end before finally laying down and grunting the rest of the night.
Temps got down to the mid 30s, and lingering snow in the vicinity led to more moisture buildup in the tent and on my quilt, so long story short – it was a rough night. Fortunately, the sun made a delightful return this morning. Biped and I dried some of our gear out while moseying around camp. It’s remarkable what 30 minutes of sun exposure can do to remedy wet gear.
We weren’t in any rush to hit the trail, as the upcoming miles were anticipated to be a lot milder than those hiked the past few days, at least as far as terrain and elevation gain.
The rest of the day on trail turned out to be just as expected. We passed through some patches of fresh snow here and there, and climbed a few ridges engulfed in some sort of cold, foggy mist (I’m from the desert – I don’t understand these things..), but it was overall a really enjoyable, mellow day. We didn’t have many captivating vistas or remarkable landmarks, apart from the snow-capped summit of San Gorgonio behind us, but it was an easy, relaxing day that felt very well-earned after the mission creek nightmare from yesterday.
The only listed natural water source on trail today had apparently been contaminated by a dead raven about 2 weeks prior, but we lucked out finding an unlisted water source directly on trail, most likely resulting from the rapid snow melt in the area. Dead raven jokes continued for the rest of the day, regardless.
Biped and I hiked just shy of 20 miles, my longest day in over a week at this point. It felt good to put in some low effort, longer miles again.
After we got settled at camp, we were joined by an older German lady who we met the night prior as well as History and our new friends Rookie and Ed who we met at Mission Creek. We all enjoyed a beautiful sunset over Bug Bear Valley. I used a rock to eat my dinner, hopefully for the last time, as we’d be having a much needed resupply day in Bug Bear Lake tomorrow!
Day 18
We got up early and had a pretty uneventful 7 mile hike to the highway today. We couldn’t wait to get into town. The town food cravings were starting to get painful. I was also excited for a hot shower and laundry.
After getting to the highway, we got a ride from an angel waiting for hikers at the hitch spot. He gave us a very detailed grand tour of the town we’d never have the time or energy to see anyway.
Our first stop was at a breakfast diner. The food was okay, but the cook was amazing. I’d never seen someone single-handedly prepare so much food so quickly and efficiently. Working in tourists towns must require a lot of patience and drive.
Biped and I were absolutely exhausted after eating. Outside the diner, I talked with another hiker about the a much dreaded detour around a fire closure in the Wrightwood area. We exchanged info and plans for walking around the closure. Most hikers seem to be planning to hitch or get angels to drive them around the fire. Personally, I’d like to maintain a continuous footpath for as long as possible – in other words, I’m not willing to skip any miles at this point.
Afterwards, I went to the post office to pick up a package that Tiphane had shipped me. Biped and I grabbed some empty boxes to prep food for the next couple towns as well. We got some ice cream at Ben & Jerry’s (hiker discounts rock!) and I stopped by a gear store to get a new spoon – yay!
Everyone in town was very hiker friendly. We were approached by a number of people on the street and asked about our hike. Locals and tourists alike seemed genuinely interested and invested in our adventure. We were offered ride by a stranger while walking to our hotel and all the local shopkeepers were very generous with discounts and suggestions as well.
Once we got to the hotel, I did sink laundry and listened to some music on the TV. This felt so good and really lifted my spirits, as I haven’t been listening to any music on the trail. So refreshing.
Biped and I spent the entire afternoon grocery shopping. We got an insane amount of food, both to to pack out for the next leg and to mail forward first the next three trail stops. We walked around so much, it didn’t feel like a nearo. Our town miles combined with this morning’s trail miles basically made fir a full day.
After our shopping spree, we had dinner with the whole crew – History, Ed, and Rookie. I’m happy to say that I’m feeling very at home hiking and camping with a group now. I feel like we have a nice little community forming, even if we split here and there.
Looking at the full spread, I have no idea how I’m going to handle this food in the morning. It’s honestly overwhelming to imagine packing this all up, mailing it out, and then hitting the trail. I’m going to have a nice little epsom salt soak and unwind before bed. Town days arr the best!
Day 19
I scrambled to pack up my resupply boxes all morning. I was seriously going crazy. There was just too much extra food. The boxes ended up being a lot bigger than originally planned and my food bag for the week was mighty heavy as well. I knew I’d regret this later, but I didn’t know what else to do that didn’t involve spending more on postage. Biped and I both set aside some surplus for the rest of the crew after packing our boxes to max capacity.
Before leaving, I took one last shower. We then found out about a hot tub and sauna on site AFTER checkout. (And free laundry too, what the hell!)
After checking out, we finished taping and labeling our boxes in the hotel lodge. I was so tired from staying up late that messed up address on the first box three times. We got a ride from the hotel owner to the post office in his giant lifted El Camino – compensating much? Regardless, we felt like VIPs for the whole 1.5 mile drive to the PO. I mailed my boxes out, then grabbed some post cards to send to family.
Biped and I got a Lyft back to trail around 3pm and decided to hike in about 9 miles. Our bags were so heavy. The extra weight is so not fun with a frameless pack. I felt stupid for overbuying. It was the longest 9 miles uphill with, disappointingly, no good views of lake. At camp, we ran into some other hikers Biped knew and we all had dinner together. I did not eat as much as I wanted. The plan was to knock some weight off my food bag, but my appetite was low and I was a bit tired of my food already. We are planning to push 20 miles tomorrow and start finally catching some longer days moving forward.
Day 20
It was freezing cold all night, that was so not expected after our two warm days in/near town. I had a pretty tough time sleeping and woke up soaked from condensation in my tent. It was apparently only 31 degrees at 7am, so I’m assuming it was much colder overnight.
We stayed at camp till 8ish to get all of our stuff dried off. I had a big breakfast- something I’m going to make an effort of doing everyday now, moving forward. I’m adding protein powder to my oatmeal now and making PBJ with tortillas.
Today was a tough day, although we had some arguably very easy trail. My toes were just really hurting. It looks like my blisters were probably coming back and my pack was just too heavy with food still. Additionally, we are hiking west towards the sun now. (For the next couple hundred miles) Oof.
To switch things up, Biped lead the way today. It was the first time I had hiked behind a partner on the PCT. He raced ahead of me, not really trying to match my pace. Regardless it was nice to take my time a bit and to not feel the pressure to lead.
We finally caught some lake views for a bit, but spent most of our time hiking through burn zones and scattered bits of forest. There were no more Joshua Trees, unfortunately. At our midday break, we saw Ed and Rookie. They had spent an extra night in town, but took a side trail out of town to catch up with us. I soaked my feet in a cool creek and took a much longer break than usual. This felt amazing. I have to do more of this.
The last 10 miles of the day were absolutely painful. The sun was just too much and my toes were really hurting at this point. Near the end of the day, the trail crossed the creek a few times. We crossed on logs and rocks, and I ended up falling in during last crossing.
I got to camp exhausted and soaking wet. For once, I actually ate a bunch of food. Unfortunately, my toe blisters had returned after all. They were pretty bad. I’ll need to keep my toes wrapped better and use start using cream to reduce friction. I popped the blisters and covered them for the night.
Afterwards, I had a second dinner and lay down in the sun. Biped and I didn’t talk as much today. I guess we were just kind of in our own heads all day.
I was delighted to see several bats flying around our tents after sunset. This was definitely one of my favorite camps so far. I’m a big fan of the more isolated, lonely sites like this one. The less hikers, the better.
Day 21
I woke up feeling amazing. I had such a great sleep last night. It was the perfect temperature all night and, for once, there was no wind and no condensation.
Good sleep helped me to get moving a little faster this morning as well. Also, doing big breakfasts now is definitely making a difference as far as motivation to hit the trail.
It got hot pretty quickly into our hike. Throughout the day, we pushed on through the desert along Holcolm Creek towards Deep creek. Around mile marker 300 (yay), we caught up with Rookie and Ed again and enjoyed some time dipping our feet in the creek. Some guys on dirtbikes showed up and sort of ruined the vibe of the spot, so we got moving again.
We pushed on northward along Deep Creek. The trail was great until it wasn’t. The views of the creek were fun at first, but started to get really repetitive after 5 miles or so and the hiking started to wear on my toes. I was also beyond tired of walking in the sun already. I didn’t miss the rain, but I certainly wasn’t feeling too hot about walking directly towards the ball of fire in the sky.
We pushed the last couple miles to hot spring with the group and made it around 2pm. Unsurprisingly, it was super crowded. The pools were full of naked old men and local partiers. I got in the closest hot spring pool and instantly regretted it. My poolmates were loud, obnoxious Trump supporters blowing cigarette smoke all over. I waited till they left and got back in. It was very refreshing to soak in the hot water, even on such a hot day. My muscles really needed it, I guess.
After 40 minutes or so, I felt a bit of pressure from the group to start packing up. Nobody else got in the hot springs (favoring the cool creek instead) and they were waiting by our bags. I made my way back up and packed my stuff up and we hit the trail again.
I decided to walk behind the rest of the group because my toes were still bothering me a good bit and I didn’t want to rush the last 6.5 miles. We had already hiked 13 miles to get to the hot springs. Pretty quickly after leaving the whole group blasted ahead of me. Biped was easily a mile or more ahead at one point. I get that everyone wanted to make camp and get out of the sun, but I was also disappointed that nobody waited for me.
Our plan was to stay at the Joshua Inn and get a $5 campsite tonight. As the group got further ahead, I wondered if they would just get a ride without me. The sun was driving me nuts. I was beat and over it and was starting to lose my head around bit. As I thought more about the group not waiting for me or checking on me, knowing I was struggling, I started to get a little bitter. I started to wonder if I should leave the group tonight.
I eventually found them sitting by the creek 6 miles and two and a half hours later. In the heat of the moment, I walked passed them and informed them I was splitting from the group and hiking ahead to camp a few miles further up the trail. I’m not sure they understood, but I just wanted to be alone.another fifteen minutes later, we got to the road leading towards the Joshua Inn and they asked if I was joining – I said no and that I felt offended by the whole not sticking together style of hiking.
I painfully pushed on another 4 miles to find camp near a water source. I hiked just over 23 miles today. Ouch. By around 7:30, I set up camp near some people I’d never seen before. I felt bad about making camp so close by and so late, so I tried my best to move quietly while I made dinner.
It was pleasantly warm tonight. I’m hoping to catch up some rest after an exhausting day. I guess I now have a lot to process and think about after leaving the group behind. It’s going to be a little tough moving on on my own again, although that’s always been my style in the past.
My second week on trail surprised me. For once, I found myself enjoying the company of other hikers. I was making genuine connections and enjoying time spent chatting and sharing meals with people on the same (yet still very different) adventure as me. I found myself longing to know everyone’s stories. I wanted to share the sights and sounds with friends, instead of resenting not having every vista to myself. Something was starting to change and I found myself embracing it. I knew nobody would be around forever, so I might as well enjoy the good company while it lasted. I’d undoubtedly have many, many more days alone ahead.
DAY 8
After a bit of a rough night’s sleep by the creek, I got up early for a free pancake breakfast at the Warner Springs community center. It was still freezing cold and raining and I had trouble sleeping because the Japanese hikers camped next to me talked until 10pm and then proceeded to snore all night. The pancakes were great though. Giant, 1inch thick, plate sized pancakes – with endless syrup and peanut butter. Legend, the angel/hiker who prepared the food and hosted the prior day’s lecture gave some questionable advice about thru hiking and made some fairly insensitive comments about “real” vs “fake” thru hikers, but I think it was taken with a grain of salt by most of the group.
After getting my fill, I was ready to brave the rain and hit the trail. I was starting to feel like I’d overstayed my welcome at the community center. The accommodations had been lovely and it was nice to finally unwind a bit from hiking, but I knew getting too comfortable would only make it harder to get back out there.
I hit the trail around 7:30am. It was still rainy for the first hour or so, but the first few miles of trail passed through a lovely meadow. As the rain came to a gentle stop, cows started to wander into view and a rainbow shimmered in the distance. It was a bit of a magical moment, standing all alone in a seemingly endless meadow with a rainbow touching the trail in the distant horizon – a good reminder for me to practice gratitude and to focus on the present vs the “5 miles to this point, then 5 miles to that thing” mentality that often dominates my headspace.
The trail then meandered uphill along the scenic Agua Caliente Creek for another hour or so. It was still very cloudy and a bit windy, but this section was so beautiful. It felt a bit like I was in Hawaii again, given how humid and lush it was.
I played leapfrog (when a hiker passes and then is passed by another hiker repeatedly throughout the day) with Asa and Traffic Cone, two hikers I’d met the night before at the community center, all the way up the creek. Traffic Cone, an older hiker from Florida, got his name from his younger hiking companion, Asa, because of the bright orange shirt and hat he adorned. The duo had previosuly hiked the Appalachian Trail together and were pushing consistent 20-25 mile days on the PCT. At this point, both of them insisted that my trail name was Kilometer. I’m still not super into that, as it doesn’t seem that creative or relevant to my hike, but oh well – maybe something better will present itself later on.
As I made my way up the mountain, I eventually got a mile or so ahead of the duo and ran into a few other hikers that I recognized from the community center. Around 5000ft, the clouds eventually cleared for a bit, but then suddenly got bigger and even darker. I pushed onward in hopes of getting water and setting up camp before it started raining again.
On the other side of the mountain, the trail was a lot less lush and a lot more reminiscent of hiking in the NM high desert. After about 18 miles, I got to the famed “Mikes Place” – the first water source since the creek and a historic hangout for PCT hikers. After hearing tales of the place, there was no way I wasn’t going to check it out now.
Mike’s Place was quite strange, to say the least. The walls of the garage and house were graffitied with PCT hikers’ signatures and drawings, and there was classic rock playing from a scratched CD (skipping every 10 seconds or so) and a trash fire burning in a fireplace standing in the middle of the yard, but seemingly no one was home. It turns out, Mike’s Place was just a dirty, dingy place with meth lab vibes. Maybe its hiker haven days were over? (Later in the week, I heard stories of Mike or a friend of his hosting hikers at the property and serving them questionable meals and making awkward advances at women)
After making my way back up to the water tank up the hill, a few more hikers showed up and declared they were staying at Mike’s for the night, but a young guy from Asheville and I decided to push on another 5 miles north. By this point, the weather started looking really bad, so we just wanted to get off the mountain and camp low. I ended up with almost 23 miles by the time I made camp. This was probably one of my strongest days on trail since day 1! The climbs were aplenty and the miles long, but my body felt great. Spending that half day at Warner Springs really did pay off. I also switched to wearing only liner toe socks (vs wearing liners AND wool socks) and had less issues with foot pain. Before bed, I tried to do some maintenance on some blisters I had gotten days before and they were not looking great. I’d need more bandages soon.
DAY 9
The sun finally came back out before breaking camp this morning- what a relief, at least until it got uncomfortably hot and exposed. As I was still climbing down from the previous day’s mountain, there was a good bit of downhill for pretty much the entire day. The desert views were great though – some of the best since the section before Scissors. Cacti and agave lined the trail, and lizards were once again seen basking in the sun around every corner.
I got off trail twice today for water and snack detours. As there were no natural water sources for the entire day’s hike, I had to rely on local trail angels for water. I played leapfrog again with Asa and Traffic Cone for pretty much the whole day. We hung out a while with a bigger group at one of the trail angel’s houses and got some fresh fruit and soda. It felt great to sit in the shade with my shoes off for a while, catching up with other hikers. Even a desert boy like myself needs to cool off and escape the sun for a bit.
I eventually lost the pack when I got off trail again to check out Little Bear Hostel, the second trail angel’s house. It was a fairly big detour off trail, but it was soo worth it for water, veggie dogs, shade and a surprise chance to hang out with a tiny kitten! He was all over me the second I sat down. I’ve never known a cat to voluntarily sit on my head. It was just way too cute and felt like my baby Cappy was ending me an angel – a very special moment I won’t soon forget.
I eventually got back on trail and tagged the hiker I met at Mike’s Place the day prior. We hiked 5 miles together to the famous Paradise Valley Cafe – a restaurant right off the trail that’s famous for feeding hungry hikers before they begin the climb up the San Jacinto Mountains. It turns out Ben and I have a bit of a connection in that we both lost a parent at a young age and we’re both hiking the trail in hopes of finding some closure and peace. We also realized that both of us carry the ashes of our deceased parent in small urn necklaces. Ben is very religious and plans to propose to his girlfriend after carrying an engagement ring all the way to Canada! He is a very sweet and very romantic young man.
By the time we got to the restaurant, I ended up logging 24.5 miles. Both of us were absolutely exhausted. Asa and Traffic Cone were already at PVC with two other hikers who’d gotten off trail due to a storm on San Jacinto that weekend. We all cowboy camped right on the porch of the restaurant – something I obviously never would have even considered doing if I were alone that evening. It was fairly warm under the awning, considering it was close to 30 degrees that night, but I got some pretty miserable sleep. Sleeping 100ft away from a highway next to a bunch of stinky hikers just wasn’t doing it for me. I prefer being in my tent up in the mountains.
Day 10
I woke up feeling extra homeless this morning. It must have had something to do with sleeping with a bunch of stinky hikers on the front porch of a diner. Go figure. We were all up at sunrise and gathered our things while we waited for the restaurant to open. Once the kitchen staff showed up and opened the doors for us, we all raced inside like we’d never eat again. Within another 10 minutes, another dozen or so hikers showed up.
Ben (who I started calling Bible Ben in my head, since he carries a bible in his pack) joined me for breakfast and we discussed strategies for the upcoming climb – where to camp, how much water to carry, etc. These kinds of discussion account for at least 90% of what hikers talk about on trail.
After breakfast, I ended up separating from everyone because, before leaving for San Diego, I mailed myself a resupply box to the restaurant that I now needed to unpack, organize, and cram into my food bag. After getting that situated, I hiked solo up into the San Jacintos for about 12 miles. This was a slow slog for me, as I was pretty damn tired from the absolute lack of sleep the night prior. The milkshake I had with breakfast wasn’t exactly helping either. Pushing 24 miles as I had the day prior was absolutely out of the question.
As I made my way up further into the mountains, I had some incredible views of Palm Springs and the whole Coachella Valley. The valley floor looked impossiblely far away already. Around 2pm or so, I caught up with everyone from breakfast at Cedar Spring junction, including Brandon, the hiker who let me borrow his phone the night I found out about Cappy’s passing.
Brandon was hiking with a Swiss guy named Cobbler and an English girl named Woody. Cobbler offered to grab water from the nearby spring for everyone, but he didn’t come back for almost an hour. I was worried he had some sort of accident, but I guess it was just a terrible hike down and back up and his filter was just too slow to keep up with getting water for four people. I ended up hiking with the three of them another 4 miles to camp.
In the distance, clouds gathered around the summit of San Jacinto made it look like an erupting volcano. I got some of the best sunset pictures ever tonight and just had a really fun, genuine time. Maybe hiking with a group isnt so bad after all? Biped, another hiker that I’d been seeing for the past 4 days or so joined us for the final mile to camp and stayed with us that night. The five of us had dinner together and watched the rest of the sunset. With our eyes set on the long ridgeline leading up to the summit, we knew tomorrow’s hike was certainly not going to be an easy one, as the ridge has some pretty striking ups and downs before coming anywhere even close to the summit.
Day 11
Considering Brandon and crew had already been into town for their zero day (a zero-mile day – a day off, essentially), their plan was to push on today for the San Jacinto summit. Biped and I planned to drop into Idyllwild for a zero day, so we split from the rest of the group and left early to tackle the 15 miles to Saddle Junction, where a side trail would lead us into town.
The hike turned out to be a lot more than we bargained for. Biped left a little before me and paced a mile or so ahead of me for most of the day, but we both struggled with foot pain and utter exhaustion. This was my slowest day yet, averaging around 30min/mile. I used my trekking poles for the first time as well. They had mostly just served as ornaments strapped to the back of my pack until now, but my broken body could not have handled today’s climbs without them. There were tons of enormous downed trees, some fairly significant exposure along narrow trail, and snow above 8k feet. It was a real struggle, for sure, but the views were unbelievable. The narrow ridge led the trail up and down, over and over again, with striking views of distant valley floors on both sides.
Biped and I finally reunited about 2 miles from Saddle Junction and hiked down the Devil’s Slide trail into Idyllwild together. This additional 2.7 miles and 2k ft of elevation loss was truly the cherry on top after such a grueling day, but it give us plenty of time to chat and get a little more acquainted. It turns out Biped is a cartographer, having worked both in Oregon and New Mexico, we had quite a bit to talk about! He is also very experienced outdoorsmen in general. The name Biped is both an homage to an old family saying, as well as a reminder for him to express gratitude for having two working legs – something that he won’t have forever, as medical complications may lead to amputation for him within the next decade.
After descending, we were able to grab a pretty quick hitch into town from a local. Our first stop was grabbing ice cream at the grocery store, of course. We booked a room for two nights at the lodge and met Woody and Brandon for dinner at a nearby brewpub. Apparently, they couldn’t resist coming back into town for beer and burgers. I can’t say I’d voluntarily descend and ascend Devil’s slide for such a brief visit, but to each their own. Cobbler, the swiss hiker in their party, was still somewhere up on the mountain pushing through the snow.
Biped and I taking are taking a well deserved zero tomorrow and will head back up the mountain on Friday morning. My plan is simple – rest my feet, epsom soak in the tub, and get some extra medical supplies. It will be nice to just lay low, as im not trying to be super social. I know a lot of hikers use town days to party and socialize, but I’m ready to just chill on a real bed!
Day 12
Today was my first zero day in town. It was so refreshing sleeping in a bed and not rushing to get packed up and moving. I spent the day doing doing “town chores” – laundry, shopping, mailing postcards, cleaning and organzing gear, etc. I walked around town quite a bit, which is kind of funny considering we came into town to get a break from walking.
For lunch, I had a gaint smash burger and milkshake with Biped and his Dutch hiking friends. Afterward, we joined a bunch of other hikers and tourists, to meet the dog mayor. That’s right, Idyllwild has a dog mayor. (Who apparently hates all other dogs and does not hesitate to assert his authority)
Biped joined a group of hikers in the park for a BBQ and hangout, but I decided to stay in and have a bit of a spa night to myself. I enjoyed an epsom salt soak and a lazy evening in bed.
Day 13
We had a big, big climb today, to say the very least. Biped and I got up early and grabbed donuts at the local bakery. We each grabbed one extra donut for summit as well. A trail angel gave us and a few other PCT hikers a ride to the trailhead. By 8:30, we were headed up Devils Slide back towards Saddle Junction. Aftee getting back up to the point on trail we left off two days prior, we started to pushed up further towards the summit. We ascended an additional two thousand feet or so and made it up to the top by noon.
My body was feeling very well rested and mostly recovered. I didn’t pull my hiking poles out today, so I knew had my strength back. The ascent was long and there was a good bit of snow on ways up to summit, but it was nothing I hadn’t seen before.
On the way up, I had a brief reunion with Emma, Fruitloops, and Jess – the girls I split a cabin with on Day 5. I was so happy to see them! They were on their way down the summit to do a double zero in town, so the chances of hiking with them would be even less now.
Biped and I saw Traffic Cone, Asa and their hiking companions at the summit of San Jacinto at 10,787 ft, the highest point on the Desert Section of the PCT. Everyone was hanging out outside of the old summit shelter, which is apparently now a mouse haven, hantavirus and all. Yikes.
We had our summit donuts (oh so good) and hung out for a bit discussing plans about an upcoming storm. The group was pretty spooked about the possibility of snoe and wind along the next 50 mile portion of trail. Some had already decided to retreat tp a nearby town to ride it out.
Biped and I left the summit and started our descent. There was tons of snow under tree cover for the rest of the afternoon. The route finding was starting to get a little tricky, as the trail started to be less and less visible under snow and deadfall. At one point, we pushed through a solid 2 miles of slushy snow at a fairly steep angle. It was unnerving and made for some very slow moving, for sure. My feet were still feeling good, but the constant gains and losses were weighing on me a bit mentally.
We ended up finishing the day with 5k feet of elevation gain and 4k feet of elevation loss. I was ready to hit camp and eat dinner. When we got to Fuller Ridge to camp, another couple of groups were already set up. We had dinner with History, who I hadn’t seen since day 6 or so. It was great to catch up and hear about his experiences. The rest of the group showed up an hour or so later and we chatted and goofed off until sundown.
Day 14
Biped and I left camp by 7am today – my earliest start. We knew we had a big day ahead, so we wanted to get going. Fortunately for us, we didn’t encounter anymore snow, but the descent was intense, regardess. The trail switchbacked over and over again all day long.
As we dropped in elevation, the pine forest faded away and sweeping views of the desert below opened up. It was like looking down from a 14er. For a while, all we could see down there was the giant casino in Cabazon, but eventually we made out details of the highway and could see trucks and trains passing below.
We grabbed water at a small creek about 4 miles down, and packed enough to make it another 12 miles to the bottom of the mountain. The switchbacks continued as we dropped down to the base of the mountain, the trail now lined with beautiful desert flora once again. On the way down, we passed the 200 mile marker – I’d now finished a whopping 7.5% of the Pacific Crest Trail! Only 2,543 miles to go!
16 miles later, we had dropped over 7,000 feet in elevation (the biggest elevation drop on the entire PCT!!) and were now gathered with a large group of hikers at a water faucet at the base of San Jacinto. Biped and I “cameled up” and queried the rest of the group on their plans to weather the upcoming storm. Most planned to hide out in town. Biped and I decided to push to the interstate and then make decisions.
After 4 miles of desert wandering through some absolutely brutal wind, we crossed under the railroad and i8. A friend of mine who was visiting family in nearby Yucca Valley picked us up and took us to In N’ Out in Cabazon. I can’t even keep track of how many cheeseburgers I’ve had on this hike so far. My friend and I dropped Biped off at a hotel, as the wind we had just weathered on the push from the mountain drove us into deciding that camping nearby was not going to be an option afterall.
I spent the rest of the night feasting and monitoring the weather, still unsure of how to proceed with the approaching storm. The 50 miles of trail leading to the town of Big Bear Lake are apparently already pretty demanding without wind and rain, so we’d need a solid plan to make it safely through that section.
This post and all future posts will be dedicated to my best friend Cappy. In an absolutely heartbreaking turn of events, Cappy passed away sometime Sunday afternoon after I started my PCT hike. May his spirit, light, and love guide me and give me the strength I need to reach not only Canada, but also peace within myself.
DAY 1
On Sunday morning, I tagged the PCT Southern Terminus around 8am. I got all checked in with the crest runners (volunteers for the Pacific Crest Trail Association) and got my little tag to hang off the back of my pack, signaling that I have a permit and that I’m an “official” 2025 PCT thru hiker. After saying some prayers and setting some intentions, I set off.
It was a lovely morning, jam packed with beautiful plant and animal life. All the desert beauties were on display – yucca, cacti, lizards, snakes, etc. I hiked a bit with a woman who had previously hiked the Appalachian Trail. By early afternoon, we approached the dreaded 1st climb of the PCT – the climb up out of Hauser Canyon. Most hikers that day slept in the canyon and did the hike up the next morning, including the woman I had hiked down with. I decided to push on and do the climb, and it really wasn’t too bad – just a little sun exposed. Shout out to the Sandia Mountains for helping me get all trained and ready for this hike.
After about 20 miles of hiking, I got to Lake Morena. To my surprise, two “trail angels” traveling the country in their RV, were set up right near the trailhead with Easter “trail magic.” (Trail angels are folks who provide trail magic – free services like food, rides, or gifts to hikers along the trail) Even though I had only spent one day on trail, it was still really great to have a burger and some chips and candy! Thanks Stewart and Peggy! I chatted with the angels and some other hikers a bit and was eventually invited to just set up my tent right where they were parked. This saved me the $7 I would have had to pay to camp at the PCT site. (This isn’t typically how camping along the trail works, just at established campgrounds like Lake Morena.)
A little while later, I got a message on my Garmin Inreach (satellite phone) saying that there was there was an emergency at home. I eventually found another hiker who actually had cell service and borrowed their phone. Things spiraled quickly from here. Cappy had died that afternoon. The cause of his death was unknown and he was all alone when it happened. This was gut wrenching. I needed to process this, if that was even possible. The sun had set, but I needed to get away from everyone and cry in the woods. I did just that but found no comfort, only more pain the more I thought about the situation. Later that night, I crawled into my tent where I lay sleepless until the sun rose the next morning.
DAY 2
The next morning, my dearest friend came to visit me at the lake. She hadn’t quite left San Diego yet when the news about Cappy came, so she offered to stay the day with me at the lake while we decided what to do next.
I cried for hours. I sat in the car literally shaking uncontrollably. The realization that I’d never hold or pet my baby again broke me entirely. Feelings of guilt, shame, and regret devoured me. All the what-ifs and if-onlys flooded from my mouth like word vomit.
By the end of the day, things were feeling better, but not good. A plan was made as to what to do with Cappy’s remains and after much debate, I decided to continue my hike the next morning. As shaken as I was, I knew that going home would only make me lonelier. I’d rather be lonely on trail, where I had all the time and space in the world to process my feelings. I’d already committed myself to the hike. The alternative would be returning to a Cappy-less home and going back to work, constantly being reminded that I still had 2640 miles of trail left. I’d move forward with my hike. I’d hike for Cappy now.
Day 3
I set off again. It was a surprisingly calm and peaceful morning. Blue Jays greeted me around almost every corner. I made my way under the i8 overpass, and started to climb up into the Laguna Mountains.
After about 10 miles, I came across a delightful little swimming hole – Kitchen Creek. I climbed down to the creek and decided to go for a little soak. Shortly after I braved the cold water, a few more hikers joined me. We exchanged trail stories and I told them a bit about the Cappy situation. It was a sweet experience. I’m a bit introverted and a baby about cold water, so this was some much needed exposure therapy for me. One girl called me “Desert King” – possible trail name, perhaps?
I continued hiking another 10 miles up into the mountains, meeting hikers left and right throughout the day. I eventually set up camp in the pine forest about a mile from the village of Mt Laguna. So far, it wasn’t feeling so bad being back on trail. The pain was still there, but I was moving.
Day 4
On the fourth morning, I headed into the village to grab some fresh fruit and charge my phone a bit. I found the shopkeepers in Mt Laguna to be a bit rude, maybe they’re just overwhelmed by the ever-demanding PCT hiking community or maybe they never wanted to be a part of it in the first place.
I pushed through my 3rd 20 mile day that day, crossing the 50-mile marker along the way. By this point, I had caught up with a number of the hikers who had started on the same day and even the day before me. Hikers could be seen gathered at every spring and water faucet along the way, as the further we pushed into the desert section, the more scarce the water sources began to be. (10-15 mile water carries were the norm at this point)
I passed by some interesting cliffside memorials, before being absolutely hammered by wind. These were easily 60-70mph wind gusts. The trail meandered along the eastern slopes of the Lagunas the rest of the day and the wind never did let up. I set up camp near a few other hikers, and somehow managed to pitch my tent without snapping my pole. (Trekking pole tents can be a real bitch if you’re not careful)
Day 5
I got up early to try to hike to the next water source by 9am. Once I got there I caught up with a Dutch hiker who had camped near me the night before. We traded stories and talked about hiking philosophy. History, as he’s called, believes long distance hiking to be a sort of “returning to the roots” experience that all humans should participate in.
The rest of the day was downhill, with amazing views all the way. The further north I pushed, the more I saw of the desert ahead. I dropped a little over 4000ft in elevation by 3pm and made my way to Scissors Crossing, the end of Section A of the PCT and a popular hitching spot for thru hikers.
Upon getting to Scissors, I discovered more trail magic – a man driving a beer wagon filled with not only beer, but Gatorade and ice cold water as well. I slammed a couple cups of Gatorade, devoured and orange and some chips and made my way to the bridge to hitch a ride.
I was able to hitch a ride to the nearby town of Julian within about 5 minutes. My driver, although very generous, was a bit odd. Regardless, he got me to town and I thanked him for his kindness. I headed towards the famous pie shop that offers PCT hikers a free slice of pie and a scoop of ice cream, but before I even got across the street I realized I left my sunglasses in the guy’s car – whoops. Lesson learned. Got my free slice of cherry pie, some vanilla ice cream and an orange soda – amazing. Thanks, Julian!
After my delightful town snack, I stepped into the local gear shop to grab some new sunglasses. Thankfully, I found a nearly identical pair. Right after stepping out of the shop, three lady hikers asked me if I was headed to Stagecoach RV park and if so, if I wanted to join them. I wasn’t planning on leaving Julian so soon, but they tempted me with ice cream, pizza, and a more affordable place to stay than anything I was likely to find in Julian. The four of us hopped into a trail angel’s car and set off for the RV park, exchanging trail stories along the way.
Things did not go quite as planned, big surprise! Apparently, we had missed not only pizza and ice cream, but we were also arriving during the middle of some great big wind storm! We managed to convince the manager to rent us a cabin, even though the office was closed. We split the cost of the “cabin” (a tiny shack with 3 tiny beds and a fold-out) and a round of laundry. I took my first shower (although I could have managed another week or two) and enjoyed a night indoors chatting with the girls. Worth it!
Day 6
The next morning, we all slept in and took our time gathering our things and making plans for the next leg of the trip. The shop at the RV park didn’t open till 9, and I needed sunscreen desperately, so I couldn’t hit the trail until after that anyway.
I bought some sunscreen and a few more essentials and said my goodbye to the ladies. They had decided to do a “nearo” (a near zero day – a day where one hikes very few miles in order to rest or do errands) and were going to head back to Julian for the morning. I got a ride back to Scissors and hit the trail around 10am.
Unfortunately for me, 10am is a bit late to start the climb up from Scissors. The next water source was 14 miles away, all uphill. The views looking back toward the desert floor were fun for a few hours, but once I realized they weren’t changing for the rest of the day, they got old very quickly. I ran into History and some other hikers around mile 10 – they were also taking a rest day. I pushed on to the water source – a cache in the middle of nowhere off a dirt road that was supplied by wonderful trail angels. Hundreds of gallons of water were cached under tarps. I filled my bottles and made plans to hike another 7 miles to get as close to mile 100 as I could.
Why mile 100? I forgot to mention. I was sort of racing against the clock to get to the next town, Warner Springs. I had previously mailed a resupply box to the post office there, and unfortunately the post office closes at 1:30pm on Saturdays. It was Friday afternoon now, and taking Monday off set me back a bit – hence the back to back 20 mile days.
I made it to camp around 7:30pm, clocking just over 21 miles that day – quite the task, considering I didn’t start until after 10am. While setting up camp, it started to rain. The rain continued the rest of the night.
Day 7
I got started hiking around 7am. My feet were killing me from the day before. I had already bandaged about 6 blisters up at this point, some came as early as day 3. I was hurting now. As I hiked down the mountain, the rain finally came to a stop. It was still windy and cold, maybe low 40s all morning.
The trail opened up into a beautiful meadow for about 5 miles. I crossed a creek and made my way up to the famed Eagle Rock, a sacred site for the Kupa people. I said a little prayer for Cappy and asked the eagle to make sure Cappy gets to where he needs to be.
The next 3 miles sucked. My feet were done. I got to town only to realize the post office was still another mile away. Worst mile ever. I got my package and scored a ride to the community center with a few other hikers.
The community center turned out to be hiker heaven. I’d heard stories and knew it would be cool, but the stories didn’t do it justice! Free dinner, free showers, laundry, charging stations, gear and snacks for sale, a delightful PCT lecture from hiker “Legend” and friends and just a whole lotta love! I was there with about 20 other hikers, but apparently the community center had already served about 2000 hikers this season!!
I spent the whole afternoon there, organizing my food and eating as much as I could possibly stomach. I also finally had the time to edit some photos and write this blog. Tomorrow, I’ll go back for breakfast and get back on trail. I may be taking it a little slower the next few days to give my feet a bit of a break. Now that I’ve got my package, there’s really no rush anyway.
Thanks for reading. I’m not sure if all future posts will be this long or detailed, but I really needed to get this first post up and out. Cappy’s passing has sort of killed my motivation to share stuff about my hike, so I’m hoping getting this post out can sort of break the ice.
WHOOPS – I accidentally uploaded an incomplete blog draft earlier today. Ignore that! I had no idea that draft was published and sent off to subscribers!
Anyway, I’m here in San Diego now. My thru hike starts in less than 12 hours! Pardon my brevity with this post, as my mind is a bit all over the place right now and I’m racing against the clock here…
It’s been a whirlwind of a week. On Monday, Cappy and I drove to Salt Lake City. We had a very tough time saying goodbye to my other cat, Andre, but I feel confident the right decisions were made. On the way to Salt Lake, Cappy enjoyed his first hike (more of a short stroll on sand) and he got a chance to see what I assume was an absolutely overwhelming amount of desert and mountain scenery across three states. It took us about 12 hours to get there, what with having to stop for litter box breaks and all. It was a pretty stressful day, but I think some great memories were made for both of us.
Cappy has since then had a bit of a rough week, unfortunately. He’s been really missing his brother, Andre and has been struggling a bit to adjust to life in the big city. It’s been pretty cold in Utah and there are lots of new sounds and smells to adapt to. With some unexpected medical complications and added stress from me running around like a mad man, it’s been an understandably exhausting week for him.
Saying goodbye yesterday was something I had been dreading for weeks, but I’m feeling more and more confident that he’ll be getting the best care possible this summer. Cappy means the world to me and I wouldn’t be doing this hike if I wasn’t sure he was happy and cared for.
My friend and I got in to San Diego very late last night. This was another ridiculously long drive, but it was a little less stressful without a cat yelling in the back seat the whole time. Since getting in, we’ve just been soaking it all in and enjoying some beach time and tacos! San Diego is a beautiful city, truly. We had just enough time to check out a few beaches, Old Town and get a little feel for the city, but alas, now it’s time to cram everything back into my pack and hit the hay.
Before heading out to the Southern Terminus to tag the Mexican border and start my journey northward in the morning, I just wanted to take another moment to thank all of my friends, family, and followers for all of the support and words of encouragement I’ve been getting the past few months. Your support is invaluable to me! Thank you all so, so much!!
And with that being said, I’m off! I’ll most likely check back in at the end of the week with a Week 1 update for you guys! Get ready for lots of pictures!
I’ll be starting my adventure in just 7 days. It’s actually starting to feel quite real now. It’s honestly kind of unsettling to think about it now that I’m this close. What felt like a dream for so long is now an alarming reality. Don’t get me wrong – I am excited, truly. This is everything I could have wished for. I’ve been dreaming of this hike for ages now and I can’t wait to get out on trail and start living. I’m so grateful that things have worked out and that I’ll be able to embark on this journey after all.
All that being said, I can’t just pretend like I’m not completely stressed out or nervous. There are a lot of moving parts that are involved in making this hike work -namely my feet, my ankles, and my knees. Moving parts that I’ve struggled plenty with the past few years. I’ve been putting in the work with training and stretching. I’ve made adjustments in footwear, I’ve introduced orthotics for the first time since I broke my foot in 2021, and I’ve been babying every little injury/complication to ensure my body is as ready as it can be to hike 2,650 miles. I can only hope that all of this pays off in the end. I’m ready to be done with the worry and jump back into the stoke! This is going to be one incredible adventure!
This week, I went on my final shakedown hike of the year. I wanted to see how my body and my gear would react to some harsh punishment in the form of snow, unmaintained trail, and aggressive vert. Although I didn’t leave the mountains 100% pain-free, I was in surprisingly much better shape than I anticipated. Sizing my shoes up another half-size and experimenting with elastic, no-tie laces proved to be a great decision, as I had almost zero foot pain throughout the two days I spent on trail. When I did start to notice discomfort, I found it easy to stop and quickly adjust the elastics on my shoes. Introducing orthotics (SuperFeet insoles) also seems to have been a good decision, as I experienced far less pronation as I walked than I normally do. (I have external tibial torsion – my tibias are rotated externally, causing my feet to point outwards as I walk. It’s something I just have to deal with..) With the insoles, my feet felt more stable and supported, even on very rocky terrain, and the little bit of extra cushion was nothing to complain about either!
The hike itself was great. I managed to get about 33 miles and 7600ft of vert in with 14 total hours of hiking between 2 days. My pack weight at the start of the hike was 18.8lbs, with 3 liters of water and 2 days of food. (My daily pack weight on the PCT will be pretty similar to this outside of longer water carries or resupply days.) Conditions on the trail were not perfect, but that’s not what I was hoping for anyway. Roughly 5 miles of the trail was still snow-covered (although not very deep anymore) and I hiked another 3.5 miles of trail that was unmaintained/unofficial (bushwhacking, loose scree, steep drainage, etc.) Nighttime temps got to around 30-35 degrees as well, so I was able to get a good feel for my current sleep system – I was pretty warm and cozy.
All thing considered, I’d say it was pretty successful shakedown and I’m feeling very confident about my gear and my fitness for the PCT. 33 miles is obviously nothing compared to 2,650, but I’ve been getting a lot of miles in over the past few years and have spent probably close to 50 or 60 nights in this particular tent. Sleeping outside is pretty much a non-issue for me and honestly, endurance is not something I struggle with as much as injury prevention. Sometimes I push myself way too hard and don’t adjust quickly enough when early signs of injury appear. As I mentioned above, this is is something I’m trying to get better at. Hopefully with the right shoes, a little patience, and more listening to my body, I can knock out 2,650 miles with both feet still intact and functional..
In other news, I took my senior cat, Captain, on a little road trip to Santa Fe earlier this week! Captain is going to be staying with a dear friend of mine in Salt Lake City while I’m on trail the next 5 months, so I wanted to get him used to being in the car for an extended period before hauling him up to SLC this week. We took the scenic route up the Turquoise Trail (NM-14) to Santa Fe, stopped briefly in Madrid for some silly pics and then spent the afternoon exploring the plaza and eating tacos at a park! We had a blast. Hopefully my little guy (he’s 18 btw!!!) is feeling more prepared for our 10hr drive up to SLC.
I’ll probably be posting one final time before hopping on the trail next Sunday. This is going to be a busy week getting my cat situated in Utah and finalizing all my pre-hike preparations. I’m really excited to share the rest of the journey with all of y’all who are reading along though! Thank you so much for your support and for all the kind words and donations that I’ve received. I feel very loved and supported right now and I just know that’s going to give me the strength and energy to push through this unbelievable journey!
Two more weeks, y’all! Today is my last day at work – a day that felt like it would never come. Now it feels like its come all too quickly. When I started this job 6 months ago, I was pretty confident I’d only be sticking around long enough to save and prepare for this adventure. I was committed to not getting attached and to trying to not take it too seriously, but you know how that goes.. 6 months later and I’m once again feeling like I’m saying goodbye to family. The TJ’s team has shown me an overwhelming amount of love and support these past few weeks, and for that I am forever grateful.
This week, I’ll be focused on cramming in as much on-trail training as I can manage, whilst juggling other last minute preparations here at home. I’m hoping to get at least one or two overnight hikes in here in New Mexico, but the weather has taken an unexpected turn recently – from high 70s and sunshine last week to low 40s and snow all weekend. I can only hope for some rapid warming and thawing so I can get some longer days in at elevation this week. But then again, I am preparing for a 5 month journey that will require plenty of serious snow-travel and cold nights anyway, so a little bit of snow and cold right now surely can’t be the worst thing.
I’m also planning to wrap up more domestic affairs, like straightening out finances, canceling any lingering subscriptions, making lists of important info and contact sheets for loved ones, etc. Additionally, I’ll be putting together two fairly small resupply packages to mail out before I hit the road. One box will be shipped off to Warner Springs as a sort of just-in-case, as I’m hesitant to believe I can find much gluten-free/affordable food to eat in Julian. (perhaps a story for another day) The second box will go to Paradise Valley Cafe, where I’ll be needing my snow-travel gear (PPE like an ice axe and microspikes) and a couple days worth of food for my journey up and over San Jacinto, which has been getting plenty of snow this season.
Lastly, I’m just going to spending as much time with my two cats as I can. It’s going to be a long summer for both of them and I can’t help but worry about how much we’ll miss each other. While I’m confident they’ll get the best care possible while I’m gone, it’s still never easy saying goodbye and this will, by far, be the longest goodbye we’ve ever had in the almost 9 years we’ve lived together. I’ll be thinking of them everyday. I wonder if a cat’s mind could even grasp the concept of what I’ll be attempting when I leave..
I’ve been tweaking my gear list for a solid 8 months straight now..
I always tell myself to worry less about the gear and worry more about the hiking, but alas, here we are. I love building spreadsheets and micromanaging all of my hiking data. Most of my new gear for my upcoming PCT attempt was purchased by the end of 2024 and I did an overnight shakedown on the Arizona Trail with about 90% of the items on my final gear list. That being said, the gear itself hasn’t changed too much in the last few months, but the data has been sifted, sorted, and analyzed on a near daily basis since September. I’ve double and triple-checked all of my gear weights and altered my list oz by oz and gram by gram.
Finally, I present to you my (hopefully) final 2025 PCT thruhike gear list:
I’ve managed to get my baseweight (total pack weight minus consumables like food and water) down to about 9lbs. This is a major improvement from my ~14lb baseweight on the JMT in 2023 and my ~12b baseweight on the TRT in 2024. (My lighterpack pages for both of those hikes got screwed up, so I’m unsure about exact weights)
Tweaks I made this time around include:
Switching to a frameless pack (no stays, rods, or back cushion means a MUCH lighter backpack)
Switching to a closed-cell foam sleeping pad (don’t have to worry about punctures or mold and setup is as simple as laying it down)
Swapping my headlamp, battery pack, and charging brick for lighter options (I could go even lighter if I weren’t so attached to my 20k powerbank)
Swapping my down jacket for a synthetic UL jacket (half the weight and less worries about getting it wet)
Ditching a bunch of random little odds and ends from my ditty bag (ounces make pounds!)
Packing my essentials instead of my fears
This gear list is obviously subject to change once I get on trail. I may find that my sleep system isn’t warm or comfortable enough or I made decide to switch from cooking warm meals to cold soaking to save a little weight and time. I may tidy up my ditty bag up even more or decide I want a few more comfort or entertainment items – only time will tell.
For a full breakdown of everything I’m bringing with me as I attempt to hike the PCT 2,650 miles from Mexico to Canada this year, check out this YouTube video I put together! I don’t plan to make very many PCT videos this year, as I’d rather not be too distracted by filming (a mistake I’ve made and regretted in the past..) Regardless please subscribe to my YouTube channel so you can be the first to know when/if I put out new content!
Myles From Nowhere 