Hannibal's Pacific Crest Trail Chronicle

Well, I made it! Of course I am not writing this from the border itself, but rather from the comfort of my own living room...dripping much buffalo fat! I crossed the Border the morning of October 11th and spent the night at a lodge in British Columbia's Manning Provincial Park. The following morning I rode the Dog to Vancouver and another bus to Seattle, closing the book on this, my second thru-hike. Ironically, after hiking much of the way on my own, I enjoyed the company of three other thru-hikers...Dr Tart, Mojave and Muse...over the last days on the Trail.

Your warm and dry thoughts worked...the temperature did not stay below freezing for very long, although there was frost on the ground nearly every morning in the last weeks. Most importantly, it has not been terribly wet. There were just two days of rain since Skykomish, a few more with just clouds and three glorious days of sunshine the final days of the hike. It could not have ended more perfectly.

The scenery itself, including flora and fauna, was amazing. In northernmost Washington, with the Fall colors in their prime and many glaciers in view, it was reminiscent of the High Sierra. Interestingly, it is not the trees that change color...unlike the deciduous forests of New England, here evergreens dominate. However, the underbrush, shrubs and bushes turn rich reds, yellows and oranges. It creates a bright carpet covering the landscape. Moose, bear and a bald eagle were among those animals sighted. I am fortunate, now a resident of Washington, to have all of this in my backyard.

And what of the transition to city life? No doubt I'll experience some sense of loss (and some necessary gaining of weight), but having accomplished what I set out to do and having so much to come home to, I am very happy to be here. One effect of such a prolonged period away is a cleared mind and renewed energy. It probably won't be long before I begin forming the first draft of my next adventure, but in the meantime I'll find quite a lot to keep me busy. Julie will see to that!

Thank you all very much for your interest and participation. Five years ago I wrote articles describing my Appalachian Trail hike...and did not find reporting on that trail nearly as fun or interesting as the interactivity of the blog. Your comments and questions, without doubt, made my hike more satisfying.

Also, you will notice I have posted some representative pictures. Enjoy these.

Again, thanks.
Hannibal

A week from the Canadian border! Think DRY!!! And warm too. I managed to take a day off at home a few days ago, courtesy of my beautiful wife picking me up at Snoqualmie Pass. I almost did not want to leave...but I am so close. Only the American Alps to go, as the North Cascades are called.

The past few nights it has been dry, but there is no question the mercury is dipping to season-appropriate levels...as I have awakened the past couple of mornings to ice on my shelter. At least I am not contending with fires any longer.

I'll have more to say from the comfort of my own computer...there is a line of thru-hikers waiting for this one.

What complement could be greater than being called a "scary dude" by a group of high school freshmen? Sister Julie (no one who knows you would suspect vocational change), I'll be sure to supply you with an even scarier dude photo at some point. Seriously, I am humbled to hear my hike is, in however small a way, shaping the minds of tomorrow's leaders. Let me address your classes' questions:

I have been waiting for someone to ask the 'what do I wear while doing laundry' question. The answer: Not much. I have been hiking with a tarp-type shelter that has a head hole because it doubles as a rain poncho, and wear this. It is effective at least, in covering my private geography (consider this the 6th theme of Geography). Of course there is a funny anecdote that goes with this...
In Southern CA, Idyllwild to be exact, I was doing laundry in this manner when the lady seated beside me, with no hint of sarcasm whatsoever, turned to me and said, "I hate it when I have nothing to wear". I answered, "You have no idea." I also found her admiring my newly muscled, bare legs...but enough, this is after all, not an Anatomy lesson.

Socks: I bought a bunch of socks before the hike knowing I would wear them out pretty fast. I have used those twelve pairs, and while in Portland, OR, bought two pairs of heavier-duty sock material that should last me through Washington. Interestingly, to me at least; the hot, dry, dusty and sandy nature of the trail from the Mexican border to Northern Oregon, particularly as I was wearing sneakers, ate socks up rather quickly. The much cooler, occasionally damp to wet weather I have been in since just before Mt. Hood has not led as quickly to sock destruction.

What do I think about? Loneliness?: In short, I think of everything. Current events, as well as future and past. For example, last week I was trying to name all the Supreme Court justices in the order of their ascension to the high court. I can name them all, but am stuck on who came first, Souter or Thomas? Yes, class, I am a nerd, just like your teacher. Or, I'll make up games to play...like the one I call Above-Average-Hiker (no relation, of course). Basically, what I do is keep a running average of my daily miles and try to exceed that value on my next hiking day, and then re-compute the average for the next day, and so on. It's not Chutes and Ladders but doing this math in my head keeps me sharp for the next restaurant bill I have to split. These are some rather innane things, but I also think about family and friends, etc...as far as loneliness goes, no, I never feel lonely...I do miss certain people, but this is not the same thing. I think some people find it easy to be alone with themselves, while some are more comfortable when they are around others. I am the former. Also, there are a lot of people you come across on the trail or resupplying in town. People stop to talk to each other much more on the trail than on a sidewalk in Anywhere, USA. So far, out of the 4 months I have been out here, there have only been 5 or 6 days that I have seen no one. The Appalachian Trail, by the way, is even more social. Eating, however, is still my number one mental pasttime.

What has been the most interesting thing you've seen/learned from the hike?: A very difficult question to answer. You know I enjoy the wildlife...and I can add mountain goats, an elk herd and an American Eagle to the list since I last wrote. The scenery is also fascinating. If you have lived your whole lives on the East Coast, as I did until recently, it is hard to appreciate how dynamic the Earth is. What do I mean by this? Well, the geology out here is not covered up by the forests. The landscape shows the scars and grandeur of glaciation and volcanic and seismic activity. Just in the past few days I have walked around Mts Adams, Rainer and St Helens. They are all three volcanoes, but the first two are dormant and covered in glaciers, while St Helens more than a decade before you were born, erupted dramatically, and continues to be active. Beautiful landscapes. The whole hike has been a lesson in geology.

Do you have any other major hikes planned? Yes, but according to my wife's witty comment/poetry, it won't be until I am 90 years old that I hike the Continental Divide Trail. There is also a hike in Northern Sweden, the Kungsleden Trail, or something like that...it is only a few hundred kilometers, but lies for most of its distance, above the Arctic Circle. And, I would like to do some tramping in Wales and Scotland. There are more, but that is the short list for now.

Thanks for your interest. I am glad to answer any more questions you might have.

No sooner did I arrive in Oregon, it seems, I am preparing to leave it. Tomorrow morning I will cross the Bridge of the Gods over the Columbia River, pass into Washington and start the last 500 or so miles of trail. I expect to finish sometime around the end of the first week of October. I find myself still very much enjoying the trek, yet at the same time looking forward to getting home...a healthy balance at this point in the hike.

The past week has been interesting. I hiked through a not-yet-extinguished forest fire in the Mount Jefferson Wilderness. It seems the current thinking of the Forest Service is to let these burn as long as people and property are in no danger. The flames were not too high...mostly the forest was smoldering, with a lot of smoke for a few miles. A wet bandana over the nose and mouth helped.

I encountered a few days of rain...the first I have seen since a thunderstorm nearly two months ago. It reminded me I am now in the Pacific Northwest, with Fall upon me. The precipitation culminated in an early season snowstorm on an arm of Mount Hood as I was arriving at Timberline Lodge. Very exciting. The next day I broke trail with 5 inches of snow on the ground.

And, as has been common in Oregon I have continued to encounter much "trail magic". I mentioned previously the invitation to visit a bed & breakfast. Jeff and Bonnie Rames picked me up at Timberline Lodge after I called, along with another hiker and treated us generously; including dinner, laundry, shower, and after a couple of cold, wet nights, a warm bed. What more could a hiker want?

Well, I was able to visit with Strider (remember her from the Appalachian Trail?) in Portland, where I was treated to a salmon dinner by friends of hers who also happen to be avid hikers. A very enjoyable evening. Thank you Strider and Perry and Deb for your wonderful hospitality.

Per a request from Dad, here are some stats:
To date, I have been hiking for 116 days. However, I have taken 33 (so far) "zero" or "near-o" days...days not spent hiking, as I take the time to explore towns and buffets along the trail. I have averaged just over 25 miles of hiking per day when on the trail. My longest day was 39 miles. I walk approximately 3 miles/hour. I have just put on my fifth (and last)pair of sneakers. I have worn out 12 pairs of socks. I have worn the same pair of pants, shirt and shorts every day for the past 116 days. No wardrobe decisions here! They are laundered about as often as you see a new post. Let me know what other curiosities you have...

By the way, the next time I write will not be for some time. There are no town stops for the next 3 or 4 hundred miles - only small stores located a short distance from mountain passes - so opportunities to utilize a computer may not exist for a while.

Until then...

For the sake of those readers less-than-lion-hearted, who found the last posting disturbing (I will not name names), I will refrain from discussing my rather good prospects for fire-walking in the coming week. Of course, you all must be aware that this has been a banner year for forest fires in the West. Enough said.

What I really want to talk about are Oregonians. And food, naturally. You will see how the two are (on the PCT anyway) often linked. While California was mainly about the scenery, Oregon, with the exceptions of spectacular Crater Lake National Park and the awesome Three Sisters Wilderness, so far, has been about the people. How does food come in, you wonder?

While the trail through the state has been fairly remote, it is blessed by a necklace of lakes extending through Central Oregon. These lakes have fishing resorts, and those fishing resorts have fine, PCT hiker-loving employees. The resorts, by a rather amazing coincidence (or maybe an Act of the Hand (read my father's comment for context)) are located about one day's hike from each other. On to the trail magic...

At Hyatt Lake, the gentleman operating the tiny store asked me why I was taking only one Budweiser, when the second one is free for hikers. "At least when I am working, anyway", he added. Budweiser, incidentally, has the highest calories/cost ratio, making it an excellent choice when Hefeweizen is not available.

The next day I hiked a couple of miles to Fish Lake. I ordered pancakes. The waitress, who actually looked like my paternal grandmother mentioned that she arose at dawn, picked fresh huckleberries for three hours...and while they do not normally do this, "Would you like me to have the cook mix some in the batter?" Note to wife: I like huckleberries. Not too sweet and just the right amount of tartness. Perfect for pancakes, or waffles for that matter.

Crater Lake. This seems almost criminal, but I wasn't the perp. So no guilt. After a long, hot hike I made it to the Italian AYCE buffet at dinnertime, and gorged on every type of carbohydrate-based food you can think of. When I was finished, the waiter and host came to the table and told me that dinner was on the house. They were both aspiring thru-hikers and said they did this for hikers when the manager was out. A big tip was left. The Crater in my stomach, filled.

The next day, in a non-food related act of trail magic, a hiker gave me the name and phone of the bed & breakfast he and his wife own further north near Mt. Hood. "We'll feed you, give you a bed to sleep in, let you do laundry, and pick you up and drop you off at the trail. Just Call." I will.

At Elk Lake, I ordered a double scoop of ice cream to finish off my meal. The waitress returned with something quite a bit more substantial, and handed me the bill with the most ridiculously exaggerated wink I have ever seen. The only items on the bill were my double bacon cheeseburger and plate of fries. No charge for the Bud or the ice cream. Forgive me Julie, but she got a wink and a smile in return.

And, on three occasions hunters have shared their beer with me.

This goodwill is astonishing...or maybe it isn't so unusual after all. There have been a large number of Oregonians on the trail, and to a person they are smiling, enjoying their time outdoors and glad to share it. Rather than the trail being populated mainly by tourists as it was in California, most here are locals. The time of the year is a factor, but I get the idea that this is not a seasonal phenomenon. Oregon has a reputation for placing a high value on the outdoors. I am seeing this in action. Hunters, fishermen, hikers and those employed in the outdoor industry along the Trail take care of their own. It is a pleasure to be in such good company.

A final word. Five years ago today I was somewhere near the Pennsylvania-Maryland border, in the midst of a thru-hike of the Appalachian Trail. But, not unaware. I had been in the habit of carrying a small radio and was listening to the NPR news broadcast as the first reports of a plane striking the WTC came on. It is hard to believe five years have passed. It will, I suspect, always feel like yesterday.

Well, first things first. I have to confess to wimping out on the Seiad Valley Pancake Challenge. Just the thought of eating 5 pounds of fried pancake batter, butter and syrup was enough to make me want a 4 egg "everything" omelet, home fries, bacon, juice, coffee and one pancake on the side. I have shamed the name thru-hiker (not to mention my family name and our reputation for having "good forks"), but at least I was able to make the 4500 foot ascent out of the valley without ejecting my stomach contents, as another unfortunate hiker did.

As you can tell from the title of this post, I have left California -- finally -- after 1700 miles. I am now in, as one local called it, Oregonation...whatever that means. One-third complete in state terms...but more importantly, two-thirds finished in mileage. A word about Northern California: Amazing! I knew the Sierra would be beautiful, and the Tahoe area, but was not expecting the rugged gorgeousness of No. Cal. Unpeopled and unspoiled. It kept getting better and better. Even the smoke from the several wildfires burning nearby could not detract from the scenery. And wildlife...much more to be seen and heard here than elsewhere, so far, on the Trail. I will be back.

And speaking of wildlife...let me relate a very exciting sighting. A couple of days ago, just outside Seiad Valley in the Marble Mountain Wilderness (called that because the mountains are made of marble, as you might have guessed) I found myself hiking after dark. I do this occasionally when the moonlight is good. And on that night, while the moon was still early in its cycle it provided enough light to hike by, particularly when reflecting off the marble. There were lots of owls flying around (think of R2-D2 from Star Wars with wings) and plenty of toads hopping out of my way as I went along the Trail. I found a meadow in which to camp at 10:30, shouted a hello to a couple of campers whose headlamps I saw a little way off, and started to lay my sleeping bag out on the ground...when I heard a soft "thump". The kind of noise a cat makes jumping from the dining room table onto the floor...which is exactly what it was. My light was in my teeth as I turned around at the noise. Even before its beam hit the animal I knew it was a mountain lion. Too short to be a deer, too quiet to be a bear, too big to be a bobcat or coyote. And then my light hit it...15 feet away, 5 feet long not including the tail and 2.5 feet high at the shoulder, with piercing cat's-eyes reflected in my light. It was big. We stared at each other for about 10 seconds, although it felt longer, before I made the first move (incidentally, my heart rate at this moment was about 5000 beats per minute). I took a step away, at an angle so I could keep the cat in my peripheral vision and then another slow step. The cougar, deciding I did not look, walk or smell like a deer scampered off in the opposite direction. Whew! and Wow! were my simultaneous reactions. It had apparently stalked me as I came into the meadow and crept along an enormous fallen tree before jumping off the trunk to get a closer look.

I decided to drag my gear closer to the other campers. While making my introduction to the others the lion made a circle around the three of us, apparently concluding we were not the prey it was looking for. Very exciting. And since I am able to write this, an amazing experience.

By the way, Happy Birthday Mom!

As some of you might have guessed, the "waffles" were a metaphor. To post that recipe is outside the scope and good taste of this family-oriented blog. However, on my pay-per-view site...

I heard from a couple of people I have not spoken to in awhile:
Jim, glad to know you are following the blog. You mentioned my weight loss in the email you sent...something our community here may find interesting...to date I have lost 42 pounds. A rather incredible number, but not unexpected. I may not have mentioned this in previous postings, but my training regimen pre-hike (Julie will snicker at this) included much ice cream, extra large portions of food, lots of snacking and minimal exercise...in short, being an average American. In 5 months I gained 20 lbs, from 180 to 200. So, the net loss is only 20 lbs or so. I am very lean, as Julie would attest, and muscle mass has shifted as you might expect from upper body to lower. Most importantly, I feel great and hike 30 or more miles per day without excessive fatigue or hunger. At 158 lbs, I weigh about what I did in high school, and am fantastically fit.
I don't mean to say I am never hungry, however, as I usually have a low-grade hunger going on all the time on-trail. A consequence of my calorie deficit. Simply put, I cannot carry enough food to satisfy my hunger completely. So, I make up for it in town.
For instance, here in Etna I indulged in the Marble Mountain Marvel; 5 scoops of ice cream, 3 toppings and whippedcreamnutscherries. Without guilt! Eric often recounts with amusement the sheer volume of food I consumed when he met me for dinner near the Appalachian Trail.
To finish this talk about food, my rate of weight loss has decelerated since I started hiking, as my body has adapted to the routine. It would be concerning if it didn't. For those of you who are interested in a diet-exercise combination that achieves maximum fitness and weight loss goals without sacrificing favorite foods in the process, long-distance hiking is it. Hopefully it will not be the latest craze...the trail is crowded enough. The only consequence being: Your spouse may not immediately recognize you when you surprise her for your anniversary!
Trail Czar, great to hear from you...sorry for your losses. I can't make up for both, but I am happy to send you my pictures since, after all, we walked the same trail. You bring up a reality of long-distance hiking...the difficulties with coming home and readjusting to life off the Trail. I do not have the time now, but will address this at my next stop...Ashland, Oregon. Finally, Oregon!
In the mean time, I have more training to do...for the Seiad Valley Pancake Challenge. I'll tell you about that as well.

I traveled a mere 42 miles in the past week, averaging only 6 miles per day. However, this only represents my trail miles. Frequent flier miles show a different story. I made a long-planned, surprise return to Seattle to celebrate my first anniversary...and pay homage to the woman who has enthusiastically let me out of the house for five months.

Now, being new at this marriage thing, I don't know any better. But, I understand from guys out hiking for a week or so...and they are not usually out longer than that if wedded... that my situation is rather unique, special, that I am very lucky indeed. I agree. Not only has Julie given her blessing for a five month hike every two years (just kidding), but she has been a superb at-home support person, mailing my resupply packages on schedule. Thank you very much.

Now, after a taste of home and Julie's waffles, I am well-motivated to hike the next 1300 miles. And make up some of this time-very-well-spent at home. Sara, thank you for helping make this a surprise. Your sister will never trust you again.

I promise more about the trail next time.

I apologize for the delay in making this post, though it has not been entirely my fault. As I have moved out of the High Sierra and Lake Tahoe tourist zones and into more rural Northeastern-ish California, it has been rather difficult to find functioning, available internet service. For example, in the otherwise exemplary trail town of Sierra City (whose best days were during the mid-nineteenth century Gold Rush) I struck out twice. I first went to the public library, my usual first stop, only to find that its' hours were restricted to two days a week. I was there on neither of those days. Even if I was I would have had to have been fortunate enough to arrive between 12 and 2. Hopefully, the kiddies are doing summer reading elsewhere. My next stop was the General Store, proudly displaying a big red sign: Internet Here. I went in and the following exchange ensued:

Hannibal: You have internet available?
Storekeeper: The internet is down.
Hannibal: (slightly exasperated) Wow, and it was designed to survive nuclear (or nu-ku-lur depending on your political stripes) holocaust. Did something happen?
Storekeeper: It broke. The repairman has to come out from Sacramento. I don't know when...

Sacramento, incidentally, is really not that close to Sierra City. Anyway, the other establishment lacking in these smaller towns are internet coffee shops. Short of knocking on the door of a private residence, which for your sakes I considered doing, I was out of luck. By the way, for those of you who keep up with precious metal commodity prices (no doubt a huge portion of this blog's readership) you won't be too surprised to hear that a lot of the old mines here are reopening. Such was the talk at the breakfast counter at the Red Moose Cafe.

I am now in Chester, the town closest to the midpoint of the trail. I am more than halfway (in miles) finished. As I reassured Julie on the phone this evening, "Halfway in miles, much more than halfway in time." After all, I have to be to avoid the big freeze...both at home when I eventually do return and in the Northern Cascades in the Fall.

Tomorrow, as I head North I go into Lassen Volcanic National Park. Lassen will be the first in a long series of big mountain-volcanoes I walk around or on, on my way to the Canadian border. This is also the end of the Sierra geologically and the beginning of the Cascade Range. All of which explains why I have had the Johnny Cash ditty "Ring of Fire" in my head the past few days.

Until next time...

It is a bit of a downer to have left the High Sierra, so spectacular it is. Therefore, I find myself in this lakeside resort town comforting myself with casino all-you-can-eat-buffets. It is some solace, at least. By the way, if anyone is interested, I could give you the name of a wedding chapel in a strip mall, wedged between a Subway and a skateboard shop. South Lake Tahoe is an odd mix of this sort of thing and private jets landing at the airfield nearby.

In the past two weeks I have taken a few side trips. I completed the John Muir Trail, taking me down into Yosemite Valley. While there, I climbed to the top of Half-Dome, saw El Capitan and the climbers on its sheer face and witnessed the more than 1000 foot fall of Yosemite Falls. As I left Yosemite, it really was dramatic how rapidly the geology changed. From wide glacier-carved meadows and polished granite to something more resembling the desert. From something made by ice to rock of volcanic origin. In fact, I will be passing through lava fields in a few weeks.

Eric: It sounds like you are learning Rhode Island-ese wicked good! Actually, a coffee cabinet sounds good right now. Maybe after some quahogs. Right now, there are some confused expressions from those readers not in Rhode Island.

Well, there is a buffet calling my name. Until next time...

I would amend what Beeman said in his recent comment. You should be here. Or, at least we should all experience this kind of beauty somewhere, someplace in our lives. I simply can not do it justice, explaining how gorgeous the trail and its environs have been the past week. I could use every superlative I know, many come to mind, and still feel inadequate to the task. The Pacific Crest Trail through the High Sierra, locally the John Muir Trail, is remarkable. Remarkable. I say this having put quite a bit of trail behind me, that it is without peer the most continually beautiful I have yet hiked.

There has been a fair amount of snow to traverse over the high alpine passes, occasionally with ice axe in hand; the effect of which has been to slow my progress and allow me to savor this amazing landscape. I have repeated the following sequence numerous times over the past hundred or so miles, and I am not done yet: Climb a few thousand feet, the last mile or so on snow to a mountain pass surrounded by even higher snow-capped peaks, glacial tarns and still iced-over lakes. The melt is happening briskly. Water is everywhere. My feet have not been dry, but for brief periods, since Bishop. On the descent the scene is repeated. I continue down a few thousand feet to a broad valley, a basin collecting all the water seen pouring off the mountain. The snowmelt comes together in a lake, which, at its outlet forms a creek and descends further, the trail alongside, deeper into a valley. These rivers, swollen and often furious are crossed by the trail many times. I have been waist-deep or worse on these crossings. The mid-30 degree water would be refreshing in the mid-day heat if it wasn't for the anxiety provoked by these fords. One eye is kept on the feet, making sure I don't misstep, the other on the boiling rapids and falls just downstream. Finally, the low point of the descent is reached and the process is repeated with a new pass, basin, lake, creek...and so it goes.

Unlike other trails through National Parks or Forests, where there tend to be many day-hikers, just about everybody else out here is on a long-distance hike...on the PCT or the 200+ mile John Muir Trail. There just isn't easy access to the trail, you have to work to be here. As a result, there is a tremendous sense of community among hikers, more than seen typically. People look after each other, giving information about upcoming snow conditions, route-finding up the passes, places to camp, fords, bear encounters, etc... There are many conversations about gear, food and other essentials to backpacking. In contrast to being among non-backpackers or weekenders, the question that goes unasked is, "Why are you doing this?" For the community of us long-distance hikers that answer is obvious.

At a resort more like a rustic camp, just off the trail in Vermillion Valley, arrived at by taking a ferry across Lake Edison, I had the pleasure of meeting three people thru-hiking the John Muir Trail and their friend who had come out to meet them for the day. Rocky, Jill, Don and Brian. Brian brought fixings for burritos, I was generously invited to dinner, and we feasted. While much of the time out here is fairly solitary, though pleasantly so, there are times such as this where hikers come together and enjoy each others company, good food and drink. This was such a time. While the desert was not particularly social, the Sierra has been, adding to the Trail experience. So, thank you each of you. I hope your JMT hike finished well.

This week, I move on to Yosemite. And, speaking of generosity, the bus driver who brought me from Red's Meadow to Mammoth volunteered to meet me in town when he got off work, to give me his copy of a John Muir biography of his life in Yosemite Valley. Perfect timing. He was true to his word and I will have the opportunity to read about Muir's life as I enter this storied Valley.

To answer your question Dad, there are few "trail registers" of the sort used on the AT. The ones you come across on the PCT are typically Park or Forest service forms used to keep track of the number of people in the backcountry, with a little room for a comment or two.

Regarding Julie's comment: By know you know I do not swim in the same direction as the rest of the fishes.

Margaret: Yes, I am sure you could take a helicopter tour.

Rob and Maria: Glad to hear from you. Hope you are both well.

What a difference a week makes...from sweltering desert heat to the cool alpine meadows of the Sierra. From water being scarce to crossing (some thigh-high) swollen-from-snow-melt creeks several times a day. I am thrilled to be here and have been anticipating this as a, maybe THE, highlight of the hike. But first...

I want to thank Beeman, Bob and Glen, fellow PCT hikers, for your comments on the blog, and Beeman for your link to the pictures. It was certainly a pleasure to share a piece of the trail with each of you. And speaking of pictures, since I have not been able to upload pictures to the blog I'll mention this: At the conclusion of my journey I'll burn a CD of pics and mail it to anyone interested. More on this later.

Next order of business...I received an invitation to a retirement party I will regrettably be unable to attend. Friends Shirley and Gordon are retiring from the Army Reserve and Air National Guard, respectively, after a combined 40+ years of outstanding service. An amazing accomplishment. It was an honor to be able to serve with and learn from each of them. And learn much I did, about military life, character and leadership. It is because of selfless citizen-soldiers like Shirley and Gordon that we are blessed with the freedom we enjoy and celebrate, in particular, this week every year. You both have my congratulations and thanks.

As far as the trail goes, I am somewhat at a loss...because I can not possibly describe the natural beauty all around me, all the time, and do it justice. I will try. For the past week I have been living above 10k feet. Most of the time I have been above treeline, with marvelous views, eye-popping views of verdant valleys. Towering peaks still holding onto much snow. Deer, marmots, hawks...a profusion of wildlife I did not see in the desert. To be sure there is much wildlife in the desert, but it tended because of the heat, to be nocturnal and unseen. I have traversed snow fields on my way up to cross high mountain passes. Vast meadows. No roads. Perfect wilderness. I have been swimming in trout-filled lakes. The Sierra is a water world. My sneakers have rarely been completely dry, and unlike the 5 or 6 liters of water carried at a time in the desert, now I need not carry any. Now, when I am thirsty, I walk half-a-mile or less to a creek, and drink clean crisp water I have done a considerable amount of backpacking but have never been on a trail so gorgeous as this. And the best part: I have another 150 miles of High Sierra to go. And Yosemite.

On July 4th I ascended the trail to the summit of Mt. Whitney, the highest peak in the contiguous 48 states. Just short of 15k feet. Not on the PCT, it was a side trip, but one I was not going to pass up. I almost didn't make it.

There was hail earlier in the day and thunderstorms. I hunkered down several miles below the summit, below the safety of the treeline hoping the weather would clear. Mid-afternoon, when the hail and rain stopped I started up. I was not sure even a mile from the summit whether I would make it. There were still threatening clouds on the peak and nearby ridges with occasional lightening strikes. Just as I was weighing whether to turn around, the wind picked up and started clearing out the clouds. I saw my chance. By the time I covered the remaining distance to the top, the front had blown off and I was treated to a fantastic sunset. I made the descent back to my campsite in the dark, only getting there after 10:30, ending what had been an exceedingly long, tiring, rewarding day. 17 hours from the time I woke to the time I crawled exhausted into my bag. More than 31 miles covered, and several thousand feet of elevation gain. My entry in the trail register at the summit: "A very happy Independence Day, indeed!"

Thank you for the birthday wishes.

I am definitely in the desert, in the summer, in the middle of a heatwave even by desert standards for the time of year. It has been well over 100 degrees the past couple of days, and if forecasters are to be believed could get as high as 115 before Wednesday, when the heat is supposed to break. What was really perverse was hiking in this heat, and for part of the trail, hearing the flow of water beneath me. This was not some kind of auditory mirage, rather, the Los Angeles aqueduct flowing down from the Sierra Nevada. Needless to say, I took refuge for a day in this town, in the air-conditioned comfort of a Motel 6 room.

In another week, I'll be in the Sierras, contending with what was an unusually high snow year there. What a difference a week will make.

The town of Mojave itself is essentially a big rest area, motels and fast-food restaurants, with a big parking lot for planes. Strange, but true. Apparently, if airlines find themselves with too many planes they park them here until they need them. This is the pride of Mojave along with the numerous wind turbines that dot the landscape, according to my conversations with a few locals. The people seem friendly enough, and very curious about life outside the desert, giving me a visitor-from-another-planet feeling.

I don't expect I will have the opportunity to blog again for at least a couple of weeks because of the remoteness of the Sierras, but when I do, I should have a lot to say. They are the crown jewels of this hike. Mt Whitney, the John Muir Trail (which coincides with the PCT for over 200 miles and is considered by many to be the best hiking trail in the world), Yosemite, and much more.

While I have another week of desert, there is much to look ahead to. Thanks for looking ahead with me.

Agua Dulce has been a town I have heard about since the earliest days of my Pacific Crest Trail research. It would seem to be a rather plain-looking ranching town, like many I am sure, in the canyons northeast of Los Angeles. What sets it apart is the home of Jeff and Donna Saufley. The Saufley residence is known among thru-hikers as Hiker Heaven, and very much deserves this name. The Saufley's live for this time of year, Memorial Day to about now, when the years' thru-hiker crop comes through town. They provide, and I am not exaggerating, cots for hikers to sleep on if the three bedrooms in the trailer and RV on the property are taken, showers, clean cotton clothes to wear while Donna washes our filthy hiking clothes, a TV (I was able to watch USA v. Italy in the World Cup), VCR, DVD, movies, a kitchen, patio with grill, lounge chairs, a vehicle for hikers to take to LA, or wherever to resupply, computers with wireless internet, and many, many other things, too many to mention. The USPS automatically delivers any hiker packages sent to the local branch, to the Saufleys. They do not request donations, though most hikers leave something. Jeff tells me that earlier this season there were 40 or 50 hikers here at one time! Hiker Heaven is an amazing oasis on the edge of the Mojave Desert and Jeff and Donna are two of the most generous people I have ever met. I stayed for two luxurious days.

Speaking of desert, only about two more weeks of it left before I get to the Sierra Nevadas.