Food on the PCT: How and what I actually ate
I like eating, and I like food. When I’m in full foodie mode, planning, procuring, preparing, and eating food takes up most of my non-work hours, and it’s been that way for a decade....
and other stories
I like eating, and I like food. When I’m in full foodie mode, planning, procuring, preparing, and eating food takes up most of my non-work hours, and it’s been that way for a decade....
I didn’t listen to music or other audio for the first 1200 miles of my Pacific Crest Trail thru-hike. I chugged along in my own head, listening to nature, having arguments with imaginary people, or playing call-and-response...
For five months, my job had been to hike toward Canada. I climbed up and over every ridge, crossed each river and stream, and marched under or over all the highways and roads, going ever...
Between Highway 2 and the western tip of Lake Chelan, the scenery blew my mind, and the temperatures dropped. Here were the starvation, freezing nights, and bitter wind, the soaring hawks, endless vistas, and sketchy...
From crossing I-90 at Snoqualmie Pass, through Stevens Pass and the Lake Chelan resort town of Stehekin, and on to the Canadian border, the hike got seriously difficult. Night was falling earlier, and dawn...
Note: This post was originally published in June 2014, but the original has since escaped into the ether. I’m reposting it now in its original form.
558 miles — that’s how far I’ve come on the PCT now. I passed the 500 mile mark during the third and final road walk around an official trail closure, and the 20% mark...
First off, my blisters are doing much, much better. No signs of infection, the redness is clearing up, and the only remaining pain is from stiff skin getting stretched while I walk. WIN. Only...
When I hike out from Campo tomorrow, I will be walking by myself. There will undoubtedly be other hikers around me on the trail, but I won’t be heading out with anyone I know....
August 23rd, 2013 Friday … Sometimes the ends of experiences are the hardest for me to record. I didn’t write a journal entry the night we finished the JMT. In the euphoric haze and...