So, Tom and I are back in Seattle. We hitched a ride out of Crater Lake National Park and to Medford, a town in southern Oregon. From there we caught a bus to Eugene, a great city, where we spent a few days with one of Tom's good friends: Elan. We tubed down the Willamette River, ate a lot of delicious food, and explored the city. Then we caught another bus back up to Seattle. I am flying back east in about a week, but Tom and I are taking this time to visit Seattle's parks, and spend some time relaxing.
It is a big bummer that we weren't able to hike the whole PCT like we had planned, but we still got to experience a good chunk of it, and have a great adventure. This summer we have seen 3 national parks, hiked a lot of miles, and had a great time. I learned I don't like snowy cliffs, and we both learned how much our bodies can do, and deal with.
I am reliving my days from two months ago- except in reverse: unpacking, and un-planning this whole trip. We still have 5 huge Tupperware tubs full of food, stacked against the wall. It looks like we will be eating a whole lot of instant rice and oatmeal for the next 12 months (actually, I will be eating a whole lot of oatmeal, because Tom cant stand it now).
People keep asking us if we are going to try again this season, and the answer is: no, thanks. We have already planned and re-planned this trip twice (including packing 2 sets of resupply boxes and heading out on two trips, only to have to return home). We had a bunch of close, and rather scary, calls on this last trip, and we are enjoying our time sleeping in a real bed for the time being. Maybe another year, maybe another trail. Who knows.
Thank you to everyone who has supported us on this ridiculous adventure. We signed onto this realizing it would be a great adventure, but I never quite expected it to turn out like this. We are really happy with our decision not to continue, but it is still a pretty big let down. We never could have expected this crazy weather- and I guess it just wasn't our year.
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Saturday, July 24, 2010
July 13th- photos.
Crater Lake National Park, Oregon.
Wizard Island, in Crater Lake.
We were given a bunch of fresh veggies- here is Tom cooking up some vegetable soup in camp.
Proof that we ate really well on the trail.
Thursday, July 22, 2010
July 13th
On the Rim of Crater Lake
1:06pm
Everyone here is foreign- there are very few American tourists. Tom and I hitchhiked up to the rim village with a nice older couple from Buffalo, New York. The lake is so blue, though. And we have been able to go to a bunch of ranger presentations about the geologic history of the area (previous volcano, which erupted, then collapsed, and became Crater Lake- over the course of thousands of years). Pretty awesome. We are sitting on the rim of the lake (about 1000 feet up from the water) and just taking in all of the views.
Mazama Village
7:44pm
Today was a great day. We hitched back down to the Mazama Village after a beautiful (although very sunny, and sunscreen-less) day. We got 2 rides from nice older couples- not at all who we expected to pick us up. But it was a great day. When we got back to Mazama we sat outside the store and just met tons of other hikers. We ran into two guys we had crossed paths with on day 3 on the trail. They had set out for a few days of simple hiking and had ran into too much snow, so have been jumping around and trying to find a snow-free trail. They said there is snow all the way up Oregon too, and then a lot more in Washington. But all of the hikers have reaffirmed by fear of snow- everyone is pulling out or jumping ahead- even Edelweis. She is going to hitch north and try from there. But at least we have a lot in common with everyone.
Tom got a trail name today from Edelweis: Van Gogh (so perfect).
In the tent
8:37pm
The mosquitoes are still horrible. So went spend most of our free time sitting out front of the store at a picnic table in the sun, sporadically buying more snacks. And everyone here is so chatty- we all have this national park in common, which is very neat. I have had great conversations the past few days about what we are doing, etc. People are very curious about the trail and hikers, and Tom and I wearing our beige suits. It is really nice to have indoor bathrooms, too. I was so tired of having to go poop in the woods while being swarmed with mosquitoes. It was horrible.
Today this couple was unpacking their cooler at a picnic table and offered us their leftover produce (they were this cute couple from rural Alaska). So for dinner we made this delicious veggie rice soup. Yum.
Today we said goodbye to Edelweis. She was hitching off into the sunset (actually, to Shelter Cove).
We are very, very sunburned. We made it on the trail without getting burned, being super careful with sunscreen. And then today we left camp without a second thought (it was so chilly, the sun wasn't even on our mind). And now we are going to pay for it. But right now we are heading to a ranger program about the winter in Crater Lake National Park.
1:06pm
Everyone here is foreign- there are very few American tourists. Tom and I hitchhiked up to the rim village with a nice older couple from Buffalo, New York. The lake is so blue, though. And we have been able to go to a bunch of ranger presentations about the geologic history of the area (previous volcano, which erupted, then collapsed, and became Crater Lake- over the course of thousands of years). Pretty awesome. We are sitting on the rim of the lake (about 1000 feet up from the water) and just taking in all of the views.
Mazama Village
7:44pm
Today was a great day. We hitched back down to the Mazama Village after a beautiful (although very sunny, and sunscreen-less) day. We got 2 rides from nice older couples- not at all who we expected to pick us up. But it was a great day. When we got back to Mazama we sat outside the store and just met tons of other hikers. We ran into two guys we had crossed paths with on day 3 on the trail. They had set out for a few days of simple hiking and had ran into too much snow, so have been jumping around and trying to find a snow-free trail. They said there is snow all the way up Oregon too, and then a lot more in Washington. But all of the hikers have reaffirmed by fear of snow- everyone is pulling out or jumping ahead- even Edelweis. She is going to hitch north and try from there. But at least we have a lot in common with everyone.
Tom got a trail name today from Edelweis: Van Gogh (so perfect).
In the tent
8:37pm
The mosquitoes are still horrible. So went spend most of our free time sitting out front of the store at a picnic table in the sun, sporadically buying more snacks. And everyone here is so chatty- we all have this national park in common, which is very neat. I have had great conversations the past few days about what we are doing, etc. People are very curious about the trail and hikers, and Tom and I wearing our beige suits. It is really nice to have indoor bathrooms, too. I was so tired of having to go poop in the woods while being swarmed with mosquitoes. It was horrible.
Today this couple was unpacking their cooler at a picnic table and offered us their leftover produce (they were this cute couple from rural Alaska). So for dinner we made this delicious veggie rice soup. Yum.
Today we said goodbye to Edelweis. She was hitching off into the sunset (actually, to Shelter Cove).
We are very, very sunburned. We made it on the trail without getting burned, being super careful with sunscreen. And then today we left camp without a second thought (it was so chilly, the sun wasn't even on our mind). And now we are going to pay for it. But right now we are heading to a ranger program about the winter in Crater Lake National Park.
July 12th
Mazama Village Campground
4:11pm
Showering felt so nice- and it was a free shower, which made it feel even better. And clean clothing- mmm. Although there were even mosquitoes in the shower. I am so sick of these mosquitoes!!! I am hiding in the tent- again. We were so excited to get here because we figured it would be relatively mosquito free. But we were wrong. Our site is particularly infested because it is shady and there is still snow. But I think this was the dirtiest I have ever been. My hair was just one greasy, dusty, crunchy mass. It is actually not very clean now...even after shampooing twice.
Today while waiting in line to get a campsite, I met another PCT hiker. She is a French woman from the Alps, trailname: Edelweis. She is super intense though- she started in Campo, California (southern end of the PCT) and did the Sierra in May. MAY!! She was right behind us this whole section, and arrived at Mazama a few hours after us. She also isnt carrying a stove- she eats all of her food cold. I cant even imagine. After meeting her I have realized something important (or perhaps it has just been confirmed): I am not hardcore. I am not intense. I guess I am just not cut out to be a thruhiker.
I am pretty bummed about this whole scenario, though. All of this money, preparation and anticipation. And no one will ever understand how hard this week was, or what it was like. But I have weighed it over and over again- the pros and cons of continuing just for the sake of not giving up, versus ending this while keeping my wits about me and being true to myself. What is crazy is we were doing so well until that one snowy day, when we just fell apart. And once you start thinking about going home, there is no getting that out of your head.
4:11pm
Showering felt so nice- and it was a free shower, which made it feel even better. And clean clothing- mmm. Although there were even mosquitoes in the shower. I am so sick of these mosquitoes!!! I am hiding in the tent- again. We were so excited to get here because we figured it would be relatively mosquito free. But we were wrong. Our site is particularly infested because it is shady and there is still snow. But I think this was the dirtiest I have ever been. My hair was just one greasy, dusty, crunchy mass. It is actually not very clean now...even after shampooing twice.
Today while waiting in line to get a campsite, I met another PCT hiker. She is a French woman from the Alps, trailname: Edelweis. She is super intense though- she started in Campo, California (southern end of the PCT) and did the Sierra in May. MAY!! She was right behind us this whole section, and arrived at Mazama a few hours after us. She also isnt carrying a stove- she eats all of her food cold. I cant even imagine. After meeting her I have realized something important (or perhaps it has just been confirmed): I am not hardcore. I am not intense. I guess I am just not cut out to be a thruhiker.
I am pretty bummed about this whole scenario, though. All of this money, preparation and anticipation. And no one will ever understand how hard this week was, or what it was like. But I have weighed it over and over again- the pros and cons of continuing just for the sake of not giving up, versus ending this while keeping my wits about me and being true to myself. What is crazy is we were doing so well until that one snowy day, when we just fell apart. And once you start thinking about going home, there is no getting that out of your head.
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
July 12th
Mazama Village, Crater Lake National Park
11:30 am
So, we made it to Mazama Village. But not without the trials and tribulations which have become typical for this trip. I was awoken around 1am by hooves pounding the ground around our tent, and a loud snorting. I was terrified and woke Tom up, but they quickly retreated into the woods. I had a hard time falling back asleep because I couldn't stop fearing death by wildlife. I was awoken again around 5am by two large deer grazing in the field we had put our tent in. Apparently the meadow that looked like a great tent site was also a popular deer (and elk) hangout. Our midnight visitor is believed to have been an elk, and the early morning friends were most likely also elk (hard to tell to my untrained, near-sighted eyes).
When we decided to exit the tent around 7:30, we realized how much dew had accumulated the night before (chilly night without a rain fly). Everything was wet- there was even water drops dangling inside the tent and coating our sleeping bags and gear. We got up and packed quickly, snacking on a cold breakfast to the best of our ability.
We hit the trail around 8 and logged some easy, quick miles along an old road. The guidebook had said we would follow an old road for a while, then climb up, and cross a forested section that would be very snow logged- which made us nervous. About an hour in we started to here traffic though, and emerged on a busy highway (which the guidebook didn't mention). We flagged down a car, which informed us that we had hit HW62, about 4 miles south of Mazama Village. Somehow we had gotten seriously off the PCT, but a road walk sounded like a refreshing change of routine- out of the snow and mosquitoes. It took us a bit over an hour, but we reached Mazama Village and are now sitting outside the store, waiting for our clothes to dry and for 1pm, when we can check into the campground. We are sitting in the shade where it is pretty cool, and feeling rather great. I just ate a string cheese and it was outrageously delicious. Tom just keeps running back into the store to get more snacks and Gatorade.
I still just cant believe this last week- hiking in 100 degree heat, having to wear long pants and a long sleeved shirt and bug net to ward off mosquitoes, and hiking through 10+ feet of snow. Add to that the fact that we couldn't rest in the shade because of the outrageous bugs, and in the evenings we just had to hole up in our tent to avoid them. The mosquitoes just made hiking frantic. And we were unable to eat enough to have energy to hike. Everything that could have gone wrong really did. But in retrospect it is already looking less horrible...
Things in this national park are very spread out, though. We are staying at the Mazama Village Campground, which actually isn't anywhere near Crater Lake (there is no camping with a view of the lake...and the only other campground in the park is still closed due to snow). The lake is 7 miles up the road, and there is no shuttle or transportation. 14 miles of road walking is not exactly what I hoped to do on our 0 day, but we cant NOT see the lake...
We are also weighing our options for getting out of here. There is technically no hitchhiking in national parks, so that means about 10 miles of walking before we can hitch somewhere (anywhere!).
Apparently Crater Lake gets a ton of snow each year- an average of 44 feet. All of the road signs are on very tall poles. And they keep the park open year round- they plow one road that goes up to the lake, but they let all of the others get snowed in and close. They also build the buildings here upside-down- they put the bedrooms on the first floor and the kitchen and living room on the second floor, so when there is 20 feet of snow on the ground, they still get some sunlight in the rooms that matter. This year was so snowy they just got the last road plowed and open on the 4th of July. Crazy.
11:30 am
So, we made it to Mazama Village. But not without the trials and tribulations which have become typical for this trip. I was awoken around 1am by hooves pounding the ground around our tent, and a loud snorting. I was terrified and woke Tom up, but they quickly retreated into the woods. I had a hard time falling back asleep because I couldn't stop fearing death by wildlife. I was awoken again around 5am by two large deer grazing in the field we had put our tent in. Apparently the meadow that looked like a great tent site was also a popular deer (and elk) hangout. Our midnight visitor is believed to have been an elk, and the early morning friends were most likely also elk (hard to tell to my untrained, near-sighted eyes).
When we decided to exit the tent around 7:30, we realized how much dew had accumulated the night before (chilly night without a rain fly). Everything was wet- there was even water drops dangling inside the tent and coating our sleeping bags and gear. We got up and packed quickly, snacking on a cold breakfast to the best of our ability.
We hit the trail around 8 and logged some easy, quick miles along an old road. The guidebook had said we would follow an old road for a while, then climb up, and cross a forested section that would be very snow logged- which made us nervous. About an hour in we started to here traffic though, and emerged on a busy highway (which the guidebook didn't mention). We flagged down a car, which informed us that we had hit HW62, about 4 miles south of Mazama Village. Somehow we had gotten seriously off the PCT, but a road walk sounded like a refreshing change of routine- out of the snow and mosquitoes. It took us a bit over an hour, but we reached Mazama Village and are now sitting outside the store, waiting for our clothes to dry and for 1pm, when we can check into the campground. We are sitting in the shade where it is pretty cool, and feeling rather great. I just ate a string cheese and it was outrageously delicious. Tom just keeps running back into the store to get more snacks and Gatorade.
I still just cant believe this last week- hiking in 100 degree heat, having to wear long pants and a long sleeved shirt and bug net to ward off mosquitoes, and hiking through 10+ feet of snow. Add to that the fact that we couldn't rest in the shade because of the outrageous bugs, and in the evenings we just had to hole up in our tent to avoid them. The mosquitoes just made hiking frantic. And we were unable to eat enough to have energy to hike. Everything that could have gone wrong really did. But in retrospect it is already looking less horrible...
Things in this national park are very spread out, though. We are staying at the Mazama Village Campground, which actually isn't anywhere near Crater Lake (there is no camping with a view of the lake...and the only other campground in the park is still closed due to snow). The lake is 7 miles up the road, and there is no shuttle or transportation. 14 miles of road walking is not exactly what I hoped to do on our 0 day, but we cant NOT see the lake...
We are also weighing our options for getting out of here. There is technically no hitchhiking in national parks, so that means about 10 miles of walking before we can hitch somewhere (anywhere!).
Apparently Crater Lake gets a ton of snow each year- an average of 44 feet. All of the road signs are on very tall poles. And they keep the park open year round- they plow one road that goes up to the lake, but they let all of the others get snowed in and close. They also build the buildings here upside-down- they put the bedrooms on the first floor and the kitchen and living room on the second floor, so when there is 20 feet of snow on the ground, they still get some sunlight in the rooms that matter. This year was so snowy they just got the last road plowed and open on the 4th of July. Crazy.
July 11th
Junction of Stewart Falls Trail and PCT (inside Crater Lake National Park)
6:30 pm
Weather: cooling off from another hot day, clear, breezy
Stuck in my head: "Mommy's alright, daddy's alright..."
Highlight of the day: Right now. And stew.
This whole trip is just one uncomfortable situation after another- being really uncomfortable and having to figure out 1) why, and 2) how to fix it. Today was a very long day- we logged 15 looooong, slow miles. The first 9 miles were fine, but the second 6 just dragged on and on, with fear of impassible snow lurking around every corner. We started off around 8:30 and pounded out 7 miles by lunch, stopping at the junction of a spring we were planning on visiting before a 15 mile waterless stretch. There was a handwritten note warning that the spring was hard to find and really snow flowing, so we look advantage of all of the snow piles and filled our water bottles to let it melt. We had been planning to jump onto the Stewart Falls Trail to visit (and camp by) the falls (and get another water source) as well as avoid some high elevation (with the chance of impassible snow fields). But it would add 4+ miles, so we decided to stay on the PCT. After lunch we spent a while in a burn area (from a wildfire) then entered the "Oregon Desert". Eventually we came to a junction that had us really confused for a while at to which trail was the PCT. We found it though (after briefly following the other one) and then started on the longest 6 mile stretch I have ever encountered- Tom was really dragging and having trouble catching his breath, there was constant snow and blow downs, and we were really climbing (gaining more than 1000 feet in elevation). It felt like we weren't making progress, and we had to take constant breaks (but we did get some beautiful views from the mountain ridge). Finally we reached a sign indicating we were entering Crater Lake National Park, then pushed on about 1.5 miles further, where we collapsed in an open meadow, set up our tent, and cooked some stew (it was sooooo delicious, and for the first time in days we were starving and able to eat).
The temperature is also dropping, and theres a great breeze. And the mosquitoes haven't found us yet (we are in the sun) so we are actually able to sit outside and enjoy ourselves. It feels really good to know we are only about 5 miles from Mazama Village- our goal for this section, and our resupply box (as well as "civilization"). I am tired of being scared all of the time- worried about what is waiting around the curve in the trail- whether it be bears or snow. Physically, I feel pretty good (besides the calorie deficiency). It feels good to know what my body can do. I wake up every morning really stiff and sore, with my feet hurting. But after some stretching, ibuprofen (vitamin I) and 20 minutes of walking, I feel great. Climbing today felt really great.
The best thing about this trip has been the fact that I am with Tom. We have had to practice patience and compassion and I love him now more than ever before. The trail really forces you to be honest- if you are tired or hurting, you really need to let it be known, and that has been good for us. It is also nice for us to share tasks and a common goal, and being able to help each other when we are feeling horrible.
We have run out of toilet paper and are now using sudoku pages. Sudoku has been really great on this trip- it provides us with hours of entertainment while we are hiding from bugs in our tent, it is a great fire starter to get our stove going, and now it has acquired another use.
Tom is looking really beat up. He is very excited to roll into Mazama Village tomorrow. All he has been talking about is sitting on a bench and drinking Gatorade.
Tom and I are about the third people to cross this section of the PCT this year. I feel very remote and isolated out here. I wouldn't recommend this section to people for another week or two. Crazy year with these temperatures and all of this snow.
6:30 pm
Weather: cooling off from another hot day, clear, breezy
Stuck in my head: "Mommy's alright, daddy's alright..."
Highlight of the day: Right now. And stew.
This whole trip is just one uncomfortable situation after another- being really uncomfortable and having to figure out 1) why, and 2) how to fix it. Today was a very long day- we logged 15 looooong, slow miles. The first 9 miles were fine, but the second 6 just dragged on and on, with fear of impassible snow lurking around every corner. We started off around 8:30 and pounded out 7 miles by lunch, stopping at the junction of a spring we were planning on visiting before a 15 mile waterless stretch. There was a handwritten note warning that the spring was hard to find and really snow flowing, so we look advantage of all of the snow piles and filled our water bottles to let it melt. We had been planning to jump onto the Stewart Falls Trail to visit (and camp by) the falls (and get another water source) as well as avoid some high elevation (with the chance of impassible snow fields). But it would add 4+ miles, so we decided to stay on the PCT. After lunch we spent a while in a burn area (from a wildfire) then entered the "Oregon Desert". Eventually we came to a junction that had us really confused for a while at to which trail was the PCT. We found it though (after briefly following the other one) and then started on the longest 6 mile stretch I have ever encountered- Tom was really dragging and having trouble catching his breath, there was constant snow and blow downs, and we were really climbing (gaining more than 1000 feet in elevation). It felt like we weren't making progress, and we had to take constant breaks (but we did get some beautiful views from the mountain ridge). Finally we reached a sign indicating we were entering Crater Lake National Park, then pushed on about 1.5 miles further, where we collapsed in an open meadow, set up our tent, and cooked some stew (it was sooooo delicious, and for the first time in days we were starving and able to eat).
The temperature is also dropping, and theres a great breeze. And the mosquitoes haven't found us yet (we are in the sun) so we are actually able to sit outside and enjoy ourselves. It feels really good to know we are only about 5 miles from Mazama Village- our goal for this section, and our resupply box (as well as "civilization"). I am tired of being scared all of the time- worried about what is waiting around the curve in the trail- whether it be bears or snow. Physically, I feel pretty good (besides the calorie deficiency). It feels good to know what my body can do. I wake up every morning really stiff and sore, with my feet hurting. But after some stretching, ibuprofen (vitamin I) and 20 minutes of walking, I feel great. Climbing today felt really great.
The best thing about this trip has been the fact that I am with Tom. We have had to practice patience and compassion and I love him now more than ever before. The trail really forces you to be honest- if you are tired or hurting, you really need to let it be known, and that has been good for us. It is also nice for us to share tasks and a common goal, and being able to help each other when we are feeling horrible.
Tom is looking really beat up. He is very excited to roll into Mazama Village tomorrow. All he has been talking about is sitting on a bench and drinking Gatorade.
Tom and I are about the third people to cross this section of the PCT this year. I feel very remote and isolated out here. I wouldn't recommend this section to people for another week or two. Crazy year with these temperatures and all of this snow.
Saturday, July 17, 2010
July 10th
Honeymoon Creek- 7:35pm
Weather: sunny, and starting to cool off a bit (was triply digits again today)
Today was the hardest day I have ever had in my life. Tom and I got a slow, late start this morning and were really feeling each mile. About 3 miles in, Tom collapsed and we took a long break before I coaxed him to continue. A combination of calorie deficiency, heat, bugs, dehydration and altitude was really beating us down. But we pushed on to the Snow Lakes Trail, where we took a short detour for lunch by a lake. That's when I just started to fall apart, though. I cried for a while out of frustration at being unable to eat and general physical pain and mental exhaustion. But we pulled ourselves together and after lunch we started our constant climb up to Devils Peak. I actually felt great physically, although I could feel the effects of altitude on my breathing. Once we reached 6500 feet, however, the snow really started. We lost the trail a number of times, but thankfully (luckily) Dennis was a few hours ahead of us and we could rely on his footprints to lead the way. At times his footprints were very faint though, and the PCT is often little more than a sparse footpath, so it took quite a bit of navigating and guessing to get us along. Eventually we got into some snowy, open bowls, so we grabbed our microspikes and ice axes. The snow was very soft, though, and I lost my footing twice, sliding 50 feet down the mountain and having to self-arrest myself. I got stuck in a rocky hole, and had lost my trekking pole part of the way down. Thankfully Tom was there to help gather my gear, and talk me through climbing back up. That's when I got really scared, because I realized the actual danger of it all. I had read about self-arresting and snow fields, and all of the dangers we would encounter on the trail, but now they were real- and imminent.
We were out of the deep snow for a few miles, constantly gaining elevation and traversing the ridge of the mountain, but then we turned a corner and were confronted with 10+ feet of snow, as far as we could see, entirely covering where the trail should have been. We put on our gear, and took our time (I was terrified, but I put on a brave face- I wasn't about to yield to Tom's suggestion of returning to HW140). We spent the next hour traversing the very steep slopes of Lucifer's Peak, making our way towards the summit of (aptly named) Devils Peak. Below us was thousands of feet of open, snowy slopes- and nothing to catch us if we fell. The trail was entirely covered, but we followed Dennis' faint footprints along the snowfield, double checking each of our steps for safety. Finally we reached a snow-free saddle between the two peaks, and crossed over to the north side of Devils Peak, where we were once again confronted with feet and feet of unending snow. Our guidebook advised us to glissade down (slide down on our butts, using our ice axes to control our speed and direction) and then find the trail in the woods at the base of the bowl. So we spotted Dennis' footprints and kept them in our site as we slid down the mountain. At this point though, even a partly controlled butt slide was terrifying to me, and gravity wanted me to follow the fall line (and go super fast) instead of Dennis' tracks. I ended up in a few tree wells, righted myself, and slid again (Tom, meanwhile, was loving this part...). We made it pretty far down the mountain, then realized we hadn't seen any tracks in a while. We spent a good 30 minutes tromping around a snowy bowl, looking for the faintest sign that somebody had been there before us. Eventually we located the trail again, but by this time I was in such pain- I had rolled my ankles countless times in the snow, we had been postholing for hours, my knuckles were raw from gripping my ice ax against the snow, and I had shooting pains in my left foot. The next 4 miles into camped dragged on and on. By the time we got to Honeymoon Creek, our destination for the night, we were so thoroughly whooped- mentally and physically. It had taken us 10 hours to log 12 miles. Our feet were soaked through, our guidebook and maps were soggy, and our feet hurt more than we thought was possible.
I am really proud of us- because we made it through today- but I just cant get over how terrifying it was. I said I only wanted to do this until it wasn't fun anymore, and I reached (well, surpassed) that point today. When I saw those 10 foot tall snowbanks on the ridge of Lucifer's Peak, I decided I had had enough. I cant imagine reliving this day over and over again, and that's exactly what this trip would be. It really scares me when I think about where we would be without Dennis' tracks- we never would have made it over the pass without his guiding footprints- and that terrifies me. And to think there are so many more passes ahead- higher elevation and further north. No thank you. Watching Tom fall, and falling myself, was so scary...just knowing we are way out here and so many things can go wrong.
But today I did earn my trail name: Tracker.
Weather: sunny, and starting to cool off a bit (was triply digits again today)
Today was the hardest day I have ever had in my life. Tom and I got a slow, late start this morning and were really feeling each mile. About 3 miles in, Tom collapsed and we took a long break before I coaxed him to continue. A combination of calorie deficiency, heat, bugs, dehydration and altitude was really beating us down. But we pushed on to the Snow Lakes Trail, where we took a short detour for lunch by a lake. That's when I just started to fall apart, though. I cried for a while out of frustration at being unable to eat and general physical pain and mental exhaustion. But we pulled ourselves together and after lunch we started our constant climb up to Devils Peak. I actually felt great physically, although I could feel the effects of altitude on my breathing. Once we reached 6500 feet, however, the snow really started. We lost the trail a number of times, but thankfully (luckily) Dennis was a few hours ahead of us and we could rely on his footprints to lead the way. At times his footprints were very faint though, and the PCT is often little more than a sparse footpath, so it took quite a bit of navigating and guessing to get us along. Eventually we got into some snowy, open bowls, so we grabbed our microspikes and ice axes. The snow was very soft, though, and I lost my footing twice, sliding 50 feet down the mountain and having to self-arrest myself. I got stuck in a rocky hole, and had lost my trekking pole part of the way down. Thankfully Tom was there to help gather my gear, and talk me through climbing back up. That's when I got really scared, because I realized the actual danger of it all. I had read about self-arresting and snow fields, and all of the dangers we would encounter on the trail, but now they were real- and imminent.
We were out of the deep snow for a few miles, constantly gaining elevation and traversing the ridge of the mountain, but then we turned a corner and were confronted with 10+ feet of snow, as far as we could see, entirely covering where the trail should have been. We put on our gear, and took our time (I was terrified, but I put on a brave face- I wasn't about to yield to Tom's suggestion of returning to HW140). We spent the next hour traversing the very steep slopes of Lucifer's Peak, making our way towards the summit of (aptly named) Devils Peak. Below us was thousands of feet of open, snowy slopes- and nothing to catch us if we fell. The trail was entirely covered, but we followed Dennis' faint footprints along the snowfield, double checking each of our steps for safety. Finally we reached a snow-free saddle between the two peaks, and crossed over to the north side of Devils Peak, where we were once again confronted with feet and feet of unending snow. Our guidebook advised us to glissade down (slide down on our butts, using our ice axes to control our speed and direction) and then find the trail in the woods at the base of the bowl. So we spotted Dennis' footprints and kept them in our site as we slid down the mountain. At this point though, even a partly controlled butt slide was terrifying to me, and gravity wanted me to follow the fall line (and go super fast) instead of Dennis' tracks. I ended up in a few tree wells, righted myself, and slid again (Tom, meanwhile, was loving this part...). We made it pretty far down the mountain, then realized we hadn't seen any tracks in a while. We spent a good 30 minutes tromping around a snowy bowl, looking for the faintest sign that somebody had been there before us. Eventually we located the trail again, but by this time I was in such pain- I had rolled my ankles countless times in the snow, we had been postholing for hours, my knuckles were raw from gripping my ice ax against the snow, and I had shooting pains in my left foot. The next 4 miles into camped dragged on and on. By the time we got to Honeymoon Creek, our destination for the night, we were so thoroughly whooped- mentally and physically. It had taken us 10 hours to log 12 miles. Our feet were soaked through, our guidebook and maps were soggy, and our feet hurt more than we thought was possible.
I am really proud of us- because we made it through today- but I just cant get over how terrifying it was. I said I only wanted to do this until it wasn't fun anymore, and I reached (well, surpassed) that point today. When I saw those 10 foot tall snowbanks on the ridge of Lucifer's Peak, I decided I had had enough. I cant imagine reliving this day over and over again, and that's exactly what this trip would be. It really scares me when I think about where we would be without Dennis' tracks- we never would have made it over the pass without his guiding footprints- and that terrifies me. And to think there are so many more passes ahead- higher elevation and further north. No thank you. Watching Tom fall, and falling myself, was so scary...just knowing we are way out here and so many things can go wrong.
But today I did earn my trail name: Tracker.
July 9th
Sky Lakes Trail by Deer Lake- 4pm
Weather: Hot! Pretty sunny with partly cloudy skies
Stuck in my head: "Take me home tonight" (ooooh, classic rock)
What a(nother) day. Tom and I slept pretty well in our very uneven, improvised campsite, with the constant buzzing of mosquitoes all night long. We were up early though, and donned our mosquito getup (baggy beige clothing from head to toe- nothing exposed) and hit the trail by 7. About 4 miles in (4 horrible, mosquito-filled miles) we encountered another northbound hiker- named Dennis. It was nice to add another body to our hiking team, and we instantly had plenty to talk about (like how bad the mosquitoes were). We spent the day hiking through thick mosquitoes and 95 degree heat, taking breaks whenever the swarms let up (which usually meant in the direct sunlight, where it was very, very hot). We were feeling pretty beat up, but decided to push on for a 13 mile day. The last two miles hurt badly, and were so buggy, but we made it to Deer Lake, .5 miles off the PCT (Dennis is camping here tonight, also). We threw down our tent and jumped inside (we seem to be making a habit of spending more than half our day hiding in the tent) until we heard Dennis splashing in the lake. He said it was fairly bug free, so we washed ourselves and some clothing. Then we realized we were severly hungry, so we cooked up some mashed potatoes and gravy in the bug-free sunlight. Today we realized that this outrageous heat (coupled with our physical exersion, and most likely other things as well) is making food seem inedible. We only ate a bit over 1000 calories yesterday, and thats about all we have had today, also. We are forcing ourselves to eat, choking down all that we can, but we just gag and feel nauseous. We are starting to feel the affect of our calorie deficiency, also, so hopefully the heat breaks soon and solves this issue.
Our tent is full of mosquito carcasses. Everytime we have to leave or enter the tent, we have to do it as quickly as possible and without letting too many bugs inside. Then we have to quickly kill all of the ones that did get inside. The bodies are starting to pile up, and its thoroughly disgusting.
Weather: Hot! Pretty sunny with partly cloudy skies
Stuck in my head: "Take me home tonight" (ooooh, classic rock)
What a(nother) day. Tom and I slept pretty well in our very uneven, improvised campsite, with the constant buzzing of mosquitoes all night long. We were up early though, and donned our mosquito getup (baggy beige clothing from head to toe- nothing exposed) and hit the trail by 7. About 4 miles in (4 horrible, mosquito-filled miles) we encountered another northbound hiker- named Dennis. It was nice to add another body to our hiking team, and we instantly had plenty to talk about (like how bad the mosquitoes were). We spent the day hiking through thick mosquitoes and 95 degree heat, taking breaks whenever the swarms let up (which usually meant in the direct sunlight, where it was very, very hot). We were feeling pretty beat up, but decided to push on for a 13 mile day. The last two miles hurt badly, and were so buggy, but we made it to Deer Lake, .5 miles off the PCT (Dennis is camping here tonight, also). We threw down our tent and jumped inside (we seem to be making a habit of spending more than half our day hiding in the tent) until we heard Dennis splashing in the lake. He said it was fairly bug free, so we washed ourselves and some clothing. Then we realized we were severly hungry, so we cooked up some mashed potatoes and gravy in the bug-free sunlight. Today we realized that this outrageous heat (coupled with our physical exersion, and most likely other things as well) is making food seem inedible. We only ate a bit over 1000 calories yesterday, and thats about all we have had today, also. We are forcing ourselves to eat, choking down all that we can, but we just gag and feel nauseous. We are starting to feel the affect of our calorie deficiency, also, so hopefully the heat breaks soon and solves this issue.
Our tent is full of mosquito carcasses. Everytime we have to leave or enter the tent, we have to do it as quickly as possible and without letting too many bugs inside. Then we have to quickly kill all of the ones that did get inside. The bodies are starting to pile up, and its thoroughly disgusting.
July 8th: photos.
Tom, hiking through the volcanic rock fields.
Volcanic rock- everywhere.
Gorgeous views of Mount McLaughlin.
Seeking refuge in the tent.
This is what happens to chocolate-containing trailmix on a triple digit degree day.
The bug bites...
Only 900 miles? Alright!
July 8th
On a minor ridge, somewhere on the PCT- 9:30am
Weather: Gorgeous! Blue skies, about 80, and sunny (but its gonna get hot)
Stuck in my head: Outkast (why?)
Tom and I were making great time this morning when we realized we had left our Spot Emergency Device back at the shelter we slept at last night. We had set it out this morning to send our "ok" message to the families, and had entirely forgotten about it. Total whoops. Tom just ditched his pack and started running back the way we came...so I am just waiting in this huge volcanic boulder field, in the shade of a tree and away from mosquitoes.
This minor set-back sucks. We are still getting our routine down and getting the hang of this. Our mornings take pretty long- with waking up, breakfast, dishes, getting water, treating blisters, stretching, packing up camp, and applying sunscreen and bug spray. Whooh. This morning was a bit easier because we didn't have to pack up a tent (although neither of us slept too well in the shelter last night- due to hard wooden beds and very active mice). The mosquitoes have also been getting progressively worse as we hike north- and today the are pretty nasty. But they are pushing us to hike faster! We are feeling pretty good (except for a sore hip flexor on me and some lil' blisters on the both of us). We are going to do at least 10 miles today- hopefully closer to 15 (supposedly theres a lake 15 miles in).
Junction to Mount McLaughlin Trail- 7:00pm
(Joint journal entry by Tom & Jenna)
In our heads: "Carry on my wayward son" (we found a great classic rock station on the radio today)
Weather: Breezy, 70, sprinkling. Thick with bugs.
Today we seem to have exhausted the good luck we have encountered the previous two days. After Tom got back from his 8 mile jog, he was exhausted, while Jenna was rested and ready to go. But she was a great leader and kept Tom's spirits up- setting a good pace and pushing on. It took us 4 hours to cover 6 miles- the lava rock, undulating landscape was never ending- and while the guidebook made it looks like easy miles (generally losing elevation) we climbed and descended thousands of feet. We finally reached HW140- exhausted (although the lava landscape was our favorite hiking so far- beautiful views of Mount McLaughlin, cool landscape, and a nice sunny, breezy day- although hot). Oh yea, and Jenna bent her trekking pole in the process of falling. A bit of work has set it back to almost straight, but that really knocked us down (simply knowing that our gear is mortal).
When we reached HW140 we rested a bit by a roaring "Cascade Canal" and equally roaring mosquitoes. We sought refuge in the sun and called our parents on the cell phone. It was so nice to hear their voices- its amazing how quickly you feel very far away and isolated. We were feeling okay, so we decided to push on .3 miles to a camp at a trail head. Once we entered the woods, however, the mosquitoes swarmed like we have never seen before. We reached the trail head quickly (because we were trying to outrun the bugs) but Tom just screamed "KEEP GOING!" because the moment we slowed our pace, the mosquitoes were instantly covering every inch of our bodies. We couldn't get enough DEET on us, and we just kept hoping a sunny spot was around the next turn, offering some sort of refuge. But the sunny spot never came. The next 4 miles were a constant uphill climb, gaining 1000 feet in elevation- and some of the worst moments of our lives. It seemed every mosquito in the forest bumped up against us- we were constantly swatting at ourselves, and the constant cloud that had formed around us. We covered the 4 miles in about 1.5 hours- we were practically jogging and we never took a break. We started to honestly feel insane, and since we couldn't stop, all we could do was cry out in exhaustion and discomfort. Tom was considering returning to HW140 and going home, while Jenna just wanted to submit- lay down and let them have her. Our immediate goal was Frye Lake, a .25 spur trail off the PCT (which the guide book referred to as "unmaintained"). But the forest was never ending, and eventually we reached the junction of the PCT and Mount McLaughlin Trail, at which point we realized we had gone too far. In sheer desperation, we threw down our tent about a foot off the trail and jumped inside to escape the incessant buzzing. When we got in the tent, Jenna looked at Tom for the first time in hours and miles and noticed the defeated look on his face, punctuated by the dead mosquito plastered to his forehead and surrounded by a patch of smeared, dried blood.
We are too exhausted and beat up to eat anything real, or do anything much. We were so dirty it took 5 wet wipes to get us clean. Our shoes look years old- instead of merely days: Tom's La Sportivas have become "La Spoivas" (he lost the R & T). It feels great to be horizontal and in the tent, although all we can here is the constant buzzing coming from outside, and we are dreading having to leave the tent for any reason (the most common: using the bathroom, during which we cant help but be "exposed" to the blood suckers). This journey is starting to feel extremely daunting, although we aren't letting ourselves focus on the big picture, and we are practicing staying positive. We only need to cover 45 miles in the next 4 days- we really worked hard to get miles out of the way early, because we are going to be getting into snow soon. We are also hoping that 1) it doesn't rain tonight and 2) if it does, our stuff (and us) stay dry.
Weather: Gorgeous! Blue skies, about 80, and sunny (but its gonna get hot)
Stuck in my head: Outkast (why?)
Tom and I were making great time this morning when we realized we had left our Spot Emergency Device back at the shelter we slept at last night. We had set it out this morning to send our "ok" message to the families, and had entirely forgotten about it. Total whoops. Tom just ditched his pack and started running back the way we came...so I am just waiting in this huge volcanic boulder field, in the shade of a tree and away from mosquitoes.
This minor set-back sucks. We are still getting our routine down and getting the hang of this. Our mornings take pretty long- with waking up, breakfast, dishes, getting water, treating blisters, stretching, packing up camp, and applying sunscreen and bug spray. Whooh. This morning was a bit easier because we didn't have to pack up a tent (although neither of us slept too well in the shelter last night- due to hard wooden beds and very active mice). The mosquitoes have also been getting progressively worse as we hike north- and today the are pretty nasty. But they are pushing us to hike faster! We are feeling pretty good (except for a sore hip flexor on me and some lil' blisters on the both of us). We are going to do at least 10 miles today- hopefully closer to 15 (supposedly theres a lake 15 miles in).
Junction to Mount McLaughlin Trail- 7:00pm
(Joint journal entry by Tom & Jenna)
In our heads: "Carry on my wayward son" (we found a great classic rock station on the radio today)
Weather: Breezy, 70, sprinkling. Thick with bugs.
Today we seem to have exhausted the good luck we have encountered the previous two days. After Tom got back from his 8 mile jog, he was exhausted, while Jenna was rested and ready to go. But she was a great leader and kept Tom's spirits up- setting a good pace and pushing on. It took us 4 hours to cover 6 miles- the lava rock, undulating landscape was never ending- and while the guidebook made it looks like easy miles (generally losing elevation) we climbed and descended thousands of feet. We finally reached HW140- exhausted (although the lava landscape was our favorite hiking so far- beautiful views of Mount McLaughlin, cool landscape, and a nice sunny, breezy day- although hot). Oh yea, and Jenna bent her trekking pole in the process of falling. A bit of work has set it back to almost straight, but that really knocked us down (simply knowing that our gear is mortal).
When we reached HW140 we rested a bit by a roaring "Cascade Canal" and equally roaring mosquitoes. We sought refuge in the sun and called our parents on the cell phone. It was so nice to hear their voices- its amazing how quickly you feel very far away and isolated. We were feeling okay, so we decided to push on .3 miles to a camp at a trail head. Once we entered the woods, however, the mosquitoes swarmed like we have never seen before. We reached the trail head quickly (because we were trying to outrun the bugs) but Tom just screamed "KEEP GOING!" because the moment we slowed our pace, the mosquitoes were instantly covering every inch of our bodies. We couldn't get enough DEET on us, and we just kept hoping a sunny spot was around the next turn, offering some sort of refuge. But the sunny spot never came. The next 4 miles were a constant uphill climb, gaining 1000 feet in elevation- and some of the worst moments of our lives. It seemed every mosquito in the forest bumped up against us- we were constantly swatting at ourselves, and the constant cloud that had formed around us. We covered the 4 miles in about 1.5 hours- we were practically jogging and we never took a break. We started to honestly feel insane, and since we couldn't stop, all we could do was cry out in exhaustion and discomfort. Tom was considering returning to HW140 and going home, while Jenna just wanted to submit- lay down and let them have her. Our immediate goal was Frye Lake, a .25 spur trail off the PCT (which the guide book referred to as "unmaintained"). But the forest was never ending, and eventually we reached the junction of the PCT and Mount McLaughlin Trail, at which point we realized we had gone too far. In sheer desperation, we threw down our tent about a foot off the trail and jumped inside to escape the incessant buzzing. When we got in the tent, Jenna looked at Tom for the first time in hours and miles and noticed the defeated look on his face, punctuated by the dead mosquito plastered to his forehead and surrounded by a patch of smeared, dried blood.
We are too exhausted and beat up to eat anything real, or do anything much. We were so dirty it took 5 wet wipes to get us clean. Our shoes look years old- instead of merely days: Tom's La Sportivas have become "La Spoivas" (he lost the R & T). It feels great to be horizontal and in the tent, although all we can here is the constant buzzing coming from outside, and we are dreading having to leave the tent for any reason (the most common: using the bathroom, during which we cant help but be "exposed" to the blood suckers). This journey is starting to feel extremely daunting, although we aren't letting ourselves focus on the big picture, and we are practicing staying positive. We only need to cover 45 miles in the next 4 days- we really worked hard to get miles out of the way early, because we are going to be getting into snow soon. We are also hoping that 1) it doesn't rain tonight and 2) if it does, our stuff (and us) stay dry.
July 7th
Journal entry by JennaHoward Lake, 12 noon
Weather: sunny and hot (85 in the shade)
Stuck in my head: old Beck
Tom and I got up at 6:30, had a cold breakfast and packed up camp. I slept like a rock last night, but when morning came I felt like I could have used a few more hours of sleep. We hit the trail and put in a nice, quick 8 miles before resting for lunch. We detoured to a lake where we rinsed our socks, and waded in to cool of a bit. This morning I rolled my ankle and fell on my knee (now it is scraped up and matches Tom's knee- he fell out of a pickup that gave us a ride yesterday). I am feeling pretty good, but I am starting to feel my feet. Our goal is 20 miles today- which means 12 more before sunset (a bit daunting).
South Brown Mountain Shelter, 8:07pm
Weather: cooling off a bit- practically comfortable
My feet are screaming, I am exhausted, and I cant seem to get enough food in me, but Tom and I just completed our first 20 mile day! I feel great (mentally, that is. Physically, I feel like I just hiked 20 miles). The pain started to kick in around mile 16, but we prevailed! And we are rewarded with a shelter- complete with wooden "beds", 4 walls, a well, and a wood stove (this is our second night on the trail, and the accomodations have been pretty cushy thus far).
I am very grateful for my am/fm radio, too- it really helped pass the time. Tom and I sang along a lot and enjoyed having something to focus on besides the miles (and we averaged a bit over 2 miles/hour). It's a good feeling knowing that today was one of the hardest days we are going to have until after Crater Lake (with combined heat, mileage, and pack weight). It was HOT today- 95 in the shade and if the sunshine wasnt blasting us, the mosquitos moved in. It was a great day in all though- I am really proud of us. We saw some mountain prairies, lots of forest (with huge pinecones!) and got some great views of Mount Shasta. We cooked up pasta for dinner and ended up making this huge pasta mass in the pot- partially burned to the bottom and surrounded by a thick, pudding-like mucus of starchy water (thats what happens when you dont add enough liquid to corn pasta). When I tried to drain it, everything wanted to move together. But it was delicious. I have some major pinky toe blisters that have doubled the size of my toes, so I hope they cool down a bit overnight. I am nervous about how I will feel tomorrow, but my muscles are already starting to quiet down. We got so dirty and dusty today. Aparently the mesh on my shoes doesnt keep anything out (I am dealing with a case of super dirty toes).
July 6th- Hyatt Lake Campground, Oregon.
Journal entry by Jenna.
4:36 pm
Weather: sunny, blue skies, 80 degrees, breezy
Stuck in my head: Doe a deer (we saw 5 deer today!)
It has been a long 24 hours. Last night at 7:00pm Tom and I boarded a Greyhound that took us to Portland. At 11:30 we caught another that took us to Medford, Oregon. It was an overnight bus, so we tossed and turned and tried to sleep. We got there at 6:30am, then caught a regional transit bus to Ashland, Oregon. I was nervous and kept having to pee and my stomach felt uneasy. It felt like we had so far to go beofre we could even start hiking. But we got into Ashland (cute town) and found a coffee shop (although a latte did not help my nerves). We had 17 miles to hitch hike to the trail head, so we headed outside and started walking the road with our thumbs up. We had some good luck though, and a very successful first hitch hiking experience (3 rides: and the third one with a PCTA employee, who took us right to the trailhead and told us about trail conditions).
Then our hike began- weaving through forests and mountain meadows at 5000 feet, constantly gaining a bit of elevation. We had an early lunch in a beautiful meadow surrounded by Oregon White Oak trees. By noon we had reached our goal of 6 miles and the Hyatt Lake Campground. We spent our afternoon swimming, relaxing and napping (we were really exhausted). I feel good, except for slightly sore feet. We were even able to take (free/hot) showers! Today was a gorgeous day and I am hoping for another tomorrow. And a good night's sleep- I am really tired.
4:36 pm
Weather: sunny, blue skies, 80 degrees, breezy
Stuck in my head: Doe a deer (we saw 5 deer today!)
It has been a long 24 hours. Last night at 7:00pm Tom and I boarded a Greyhound that took us to Portland. At 11:30 we caught another that took us to Medford, Oregon. It was an overnight bus, so we tossed and turned and tried to sleep. We got there at 6:30am, then caught a regional transit bus to Ashland, Oregon. I was nervous and kept having to pee and my stomach felt uneasy. It felt like we had so far to go beofre we could even start hiking. But we got into Ashland (cute town) and found a coffee shop (although a latte did not help my nerves). We had 17 miles to hitch hike to the trail head, so we headed outside and started walking the road with our thumbs up. We had some good luck though, and a very successful first hitch hiking experience (3 rides: and the third one with a PCTA employee, who took us right to the trailhead and told us about trail conditions).
Then our hike began- weaving through forests and mountain meadows at 5000 feet, constantly gaining a bit of elevation. We had an early lunch in a beautiful meadow surrounded by Oregon White Oak trees. By noon we had reached our goal of 6 miles and the Hyatt Lake Campground. We spent our afternoon swimming, relaxing and napping (we were really exhausted). I feel good, except for slightly sore feet. We were even able to take (free/hot) showers! Today was a gorgeous day and I am hoping for another tomorrow. And a good night's sleep- I am really tired.
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
SNOW!
posted by JoAnn (Jenna's mom) - dictated over the phone
Tom and Jenna made it about 100 miles to Crater Lake National Park in triple digit heat, through swarms of bugs and through LOTS of snow (10+ feet). They are resting at Crater Lake and will probably travel around Oregon instead of continuing on. The snow conditions spooked them .... and other hikers have told them the conditions are worse up ahead. It was the hardest week of their lives.
Thanks everyone for following along. This has turned into more of a west coast hike than a PCT adventure.
We'll be posting pics and journal entries soon.
Tom and Jenna made it about 100 miles to Crater Lake National Park in triple digit heat, through swarms of bugs and through LOTS of snow (10+ feet). They are resting at Crater Lake and will probably travel around Oregon instead of continuing on. The snow conditions spooked them .... and other hikers have told them the conditions are worse up ahead. It was the hardest week of their lives.
Thanks everyone for following along. This has turned into more of a west coast hike than a PCT adventure.
We'll be posting pics and journal entries soon.
Monday, July 5, 2010
Leaving (again)
Posted by Jenna.
So, here we go: hiking the PCT 2.0. Tonight at 7, Tom and I are leaving on a Greyhound bus. We will arrive in Medford, Oregon around 6am, then take a regional transit bus to Ashland, Oregon. We are hoping to get to the trail head and be able to put in a few miles before crashing for the night. But this is the re-beginning of our journey, and we are really psyched. We just bought an AM/FM radio to help pass the time. We were kind of blown away by it though- we figured since they have the technology to make an IPod so tiny, an AM/FM radio should be about the size of an eraser. In reality, it is about the size of a deck of cards. I am still very pleased and excited.
We have been checking snow reports and it is looking good. Most areas, according to snowtel and the Pacific Crest Trail Association website are snow free, but there still seems to be a bit of snow above 7000 feet. We are carrying our ice axes and instep crampons for the beginning of the trip, until we get our bearings and are comfortable with the conditions.
We have all of our resupply boxes packed- about 2 for each resupply point, and they are all stacked and organized in Tom's garage, ready for his mom to ship to us along the way (thanks Betsy!).
We have been able to get our pack weights down with a little work, as well. Our base weights are now 15 pounds, which feels pretty good. Right now we are loaded up with 6 days worth of food, though, and 2 liters of water each...so they are resting around 30 pounds at the moment (but that will go down as soon as we eat our first snack!)
Wish us luck, and we will see you all in September. We will have sporadic internet along the trail, so I will post updates and photos whenever possible. Thanks for all of your support!!
So, here we go: hiking the PCT 2.0. Tonight at 7, Tom and I are leaving on a Greyhound bus. We will arrive in Medford, Oregon around 6am, then take a regional transit bus to Ashland, Oregon. We are hoping to get to the trail head and be able to put in a few miles before crashing for the night. But this is the re-beginning of our journey, and we are really psyched. We just bought an AM/FM radio to help pass the time. We were kind of blown away by it though- we figured since they have the technology to make an IPod so tiny, an AM/FM radio should be about the size of an eraser. In reality, it is about the size of a deck of cards. I am still very pleased and excited.
We have been checking snow reports and it is looking good. Most areas, according to snowtel and the Pacific Crest Trail Association website are snow free, but there still seems to be a bit of snow above 7000 feet. We are carrying our ice axes and instep crampons for the beginning of the trip, until we get our bearings and are comfortable with the conditions.
We have all of our resupply boxes packed- about 2 for each resupply point, and they are all stacked and organized in Tom's garage, ready for his mom to ship to us along the way (thanks Betsy!).
We have been able to get our pack weights down with a little work, as well. Our base weights are now 15 pounds, which feels pretty good. Right now we are loaded up with 6 days worth of food, though, and 2 liters of water each...so they are resting around 30 pounds at the moment (but that will go down as soon as we eat our first snack!)
Wish us luck, and we will see you all in September. We will have sporadic internet along the trail, so I will post updates and photos whenever possible. Thanks for all of your support!!
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