Most Common PCT Gear

Gear I most frequently saw on the PCT in 2016, with notes. All of these items have gotten good reviews and would serve reliably on a thru-hike. If you don't want to do much research you could just go with these. I've also listed what I think are good alternatives, with associated tradeoffs.

Backpack: ULA Circuit

Probably the most tested pack on the trail, it's been a PCT standard for years. Fits a wide range of body types. Not the lightest thing, arguably not even "ultralight" today, but lighter than most packs you'd find of similar volume at REI. Also, not waterproof. Use a packliner (trash compactor bag) instead of pack cover, since the latter doesn't block water that seeps down your back. Probably too large if you're fast, stoveless, or using a single-wall shelter. Large hip belt pockets, enough to store snacks for an entire day of hiking. Mine looks like it could handle at least another thru-hike. It employs a carbon fiber frame and should be handled with care (no dropping it, or throwing it out of car windows)

Alternatives: Hyperlite Mountain Gear, more expensive lighter, waterproof, smaller hip belt pockets. ULA Ohm 2.0, smaller, lighter, a good choice for faster hikers or those going stoveless or bringing a single-wall shelter, cases in which the Circuit will probably be too big.

Shelter: Big Agnes Fly Creek UL1

A little cramped for taller people. Often seen patched up with Tenacious Tape, seemed to use thin fabric. Very light, pitches fast.

Alternatives: Big Agnes Copper Spur UL1 is larger, tougher.

Sleeping Quilt: Enlightened Equipment 20°F (various models)

The delicate fabric absorbs water readily, but this is not a major concern for the mostly fair-weather PCT. Really good quilt. Can be sized by length and width to save weight. Definitely go for the hydrophobic down.

Alternatives: Feathered Friends bags are heavier but use tougher, more water resistant fabric (Pertex). Could definitely be used in wetter conditions, like Cascade hiking in shoulder seasons. ZPacks also makes some well-regarded quilts.

Sleeping Pad: Therm‑a‑Rest NeoAir XLite

Many people used these the whole trip, including the desert. I never got punctures, but my experience seemed to be the exception and not the norm. Annoying to roll up in the morning. Really comfy and light though, I usually slept with it deflated 30% as a side sleeper.

Alternatives: Therm-a-Rest Z-Lite, quick folding, never deflates, the foam does compress after a while and lose insulating ability, and not so comfortable for side sleepers. The Therm-a-Rest NeoAir Xtherm is REALLY warm and suitable for snow, but some people really appreciated it for very cold ground in Oregon and Washington (this may be particular to the 2016 season).

Warm Jacket: Mountain Hardwear Ghost Whisperer

Pricy but often found on sale. Mine lost a lot of loft because I used it as a pillow, so don't do that (washing it revived it). Fabric feels fragile but there was surprisingly little wear after my thru-hike. Almost everyone preferred getting it with the hood to keep your head and neck warm.

Alternatives: Patagonia Nano-Puff is cheaper, synthetic and thus retains more warmth while wet, but has an inferior warmth/weight ratio.

Shoes: Altra Lone Peak 3.0

The PCT shoe these days. Should last 600-800 miles (one hiker reported 1,100 miles) depending on terrain, with small tears (still keep out most rocks) appearing in the forefoot at 400 miles or so. Tread held up really well. Lugs wore down evenly and never ripped off, I was seriously impressed by the treadwear. Most people wore these with Superfeet insoles and Dirty Girl Gaiters.

Alternatives: Brooks Cascadia is narrower, heavier, with more cushion. Altra Olympus has more cushion, also probably heavier.

Ice Axe: Camp Corsa

Incredibly light. I used my BD Raven Pro and regret it due to its weight. You're carrying so much in the Sierra Nevada that the half-pound I could have saved using the Corsa would have been welcome relief. Readily eBayable after the hike.

Alternatives: Any other straight-shaft mountaineering ice axe, they're all pretty similar with cost correlating inversely with weight.

Bear Canister: BearVault BV500

Best compromise in volume/weight ratio and cost. Opening tip: press the little ridged patches with a narrow, rigid object to save your fingernails, like a flat-head screwdriver on a multitool.

Alternatives: Bearikade, very expensive but you can easily rent it.

Stove: Jetboil

These are really well-designed stoves that I have never used. But I have met so many backpackers and mountaineers over the years who swear by them. For the PCT, one of the models with the wider pot (much easier to cook in and eat out of) would work well. Saw various models on the trail.

Alternatives: Various, most canister stoves work well Saw everything from a $10 Chinese stove from Amazon to ultralight titanium models on the trail.

On Rain Gear

Rain gear was all over the map. Some didn't bring any, some relied on umbrellas, some went for trash compactor bags. Ultralight 2-2.5 layer breathable fabrics like Patagonia H2No and Gore-tex Paclite work ok, but will soak through in sustained rain or when pushing through extended wet brush. Pockets on such garments, even with sealed zippers, should not be considered waterproof (another hiker and I both found this out the hard way with our damaged phones). A rain skirt and poncho made out of trash compactor bags might work better because they're impermeable. Light rain clothes are useful as wind/bug protection. I mainly used my rain pants as a cold weather layer. Doing Mt. Whitney in the morning would have been impossible without them.

On Cuben Shelters

A lot of raves about these. They're light and pack up super small. Some mentioned pinholes, but not large enough to let in water. They can also be patched easily with duct tape (the adhesive won't permeate the fabric, unlike with nylon). Tricky siting, takes a large area to stake out fully due to the lack of poles, hikers mentioned getting "creative" with the pitching. Probably ideal if you think you will cowboy camp a lot and need an emergency shelter.

On Cowboy Camping

I did this a lot less than I expected. Some hikers reported cowboying anywhere from 60-90% of the time on the PCT. I probably did it 10%. I like having a bug/rodent barrier (though ants, rodents occasionally chew through the fabric), and setting up and taking down my shelter was pretty quick. There's some psychological comfort in having four walls that helped me sleep better. Still, the mornings waking up to an uninterrupted view were really nice.

Random tips

...that I haven't heard elsewhere.

At each town, machine dry any down-insulated gear for 15-30 minutes at the lowest setting. Leave it in a bit longer to let it absorb residual heat to remove additional moisture. Drying it out like this in every town will preserve loft.

In southern Oregon, wash down with down detergent (e.g. NikWax Down Wash) per manufacturer instructions. My sleeping quilt had lost much loft by NorCal, but it only becomes bothersome in Oregon where the nights finally become cold. Note that Enlightened Equipment quilts must be handwashed in a bath tub so as not to void the warranty. Washing and drying mine took 6 hours. It came out of the dryer puffier and the warmth was restored.

Bounce all warm clothes except puffy jacket from Chester (mile ~1,300) to Ashland (~1,700), or somewhere around those places.

Ship packages to private businesses via UPS or FedEx as much as possible, and avoid the PO. PO's have inconvenient hours, often closed on weekends, and will cause delays. Pretty much any business described as "hiker friendly" in Guthook or Yogi was ok with receiving my boxes when I called to ask. Some hikers had luck calling up random businesses (barbershops, restaurants), finding that they were fine with receiving and holding hiker packages. 

As of 2016, the mobile carrier with the best reception in the Sierra Nevada was AT&T. Many hikers were disappointed by this. Some never got reception in Kennedy Meadows, so this can make for a long stretch off the grid. Also lots of photo ops, and no Instagram.

Mammoth Lakes is a much better place to stop for resupply than VVR. It’s got a great outfitter (Mammoth Mountaineering Supply), full size grocery, and good restaurants.

For what is likely to be your final resupply, the General Store at the North Cascades Lodge in Stehekin (i.e. "the Stehekin general store") accepts packages via UPS and can give them to hikers any time the store is open, seven days a week. This is way more convenient than the PO which is closed on Sunday and open only in the morning on Saturday. There were huge numbers of hikers stressing over getting to the PO before it closed, a source of anxiety that was completely avoidable.

Off-trail

I finished the trail on 19 October. All 2,600 or so miles (fire closures, skipping bits due to glissades, and losing the trail under snow). Total hike duration starting from 6 May was 167 days, extra lengthy due to the three weeks of off-trail time during which I lost my trail legs, and for transit from the Northern Terminus to Northern California. Without the injury it might have been around 135 days. Any way, I'm calling it done.

The last two days of the hike were pretty mellow. I got to Quincy by bus at 7 am on the 18th and was driven up to Quincy La Porte road by a pre-arranged ride. Oh man, I remembered waiting there 1.5 hours with a swollen knee. It was chilly but dry, good hiking weather. There was a descent for a few miles in dense forest, and a couple of interesting bridges. The one over the middle fork of the Feather River was a huge arch, a hundred feet over the green water with small rapids. I spent an hour there drying out my tent which was still soaked from condensation. The trail climbed from there at a moderate grade. Ran across a campsite at 5 pm. I was so jacked on coffee that I decided to push it and knock out the climb, hiking into the evening. Reached this awesome rock outcropping at the top and setup camp, ate tuna and crackers while watching the moon rise. Next day was cold, and I hiked 8 miles out to Bucks Lake Road. Fired off a message via satellite on InReach to my ride, and got back to Quincy around 1 pm.

It was actually really nice ending my hike in Quincy. Probably the most livable small trail town in California. Great organic food co-op and some good restaurants, nice locals.

So, the entire NorCal flip-flop portion was way more stressful than I expected. Hiking southbound, I was basically fleeing winter weather. It was colder than the high Sierra, and the shorter days were rough on morale. From Etna to Quincy I met like four other hikers. Back in Oregon, I had talked to a couple other NOBO thru-hikers intending the same kind of flip-flop as me due to injury (everyone got hurt right around the half-way point). I didn't see any of them or their names in the registries in NorCal.

As the weather moved in in early October, there were still hikers in Washington. The trail up there got a few feet of snow. Some hikers opted for a clear, lower elevation alternate that reached the border but not the terminus, others switched to boots and postholed it. Their photos showed recent avalanches on the trail, it looked insane. One group kept hiking through the night, because they weren't sure they would stay warm if they stopped moving. Another hiker who reached the terminus borderline hypothermic said the last days were some of the scariest of his life. So I'm glad I flip-flopped where and when I did.

Future of this blog: I might do some debriefing type entries, and something about Pacific Crest Trail trips near Los Angeles. Right now errands have rushed back into my life and I'm watching a lot of TV.

Day 165, mile 1,329 (50% of the trail)

I can't believe I made it to Chester. I've hiked through multiple rainstorms in 7 days all the while not seeing a single other person on the trail.

From Shasta to Burney the trail wasn't very interesting. Found many gooseberries though, which are ripe in the fall. I got to the Burney Mountain Guest Ranch at 6:30 pm. Ate a home cooked meal with homemade ice cream. Weather was on everyone's minds. The storm of ages was supposed to slam the PNW and NorCal, and I was planning to hike into it. I asked the hosts about where I might bail out and bought some trash bags. Met 2-Pack whose total load was 160 lb (!!) and who went 62 days without a food resupply. Not my style, but it's eye-opening to see a different approach. He did a lot of an spur-of-the-moment sidetrips so the extra weight meant he was ready for anything. I left in the morning after doing my laundry.

Normally one of the hottest parts of the trail, Hat Creek Rim was cool and shaded all day. There were some white cow bones by the trail. The water cache at FS Road 22 was fully stocked. I camped a few miles past it at the "communication facility," which had some flat spots around it. Winds were picking up quickly and it was time to give my tent a proper wind test.

My tent warped and flexed like crazy that night, but held. Rainfall was heavy, sounded like gravel. In the morning the rain stopped. I stepped out into a world of grey. My pitching was not good; a few stakes had popped out because the ground had gone soft (should have used rocks), and some of the guylines I didn't tighten enough. Nothing broken though. Walked 17 more miles into Old Station in fair weather.

Old Station was tiny but useful. I got a burger at JJ's, whose menus had printed on them a Cheryl Strayed quote. First time I've seen her mentioned on the trail without revilement. Some townies said the trail would be snowbound and urged me to bail. One said I'd be fine though; I chose to believe him, plus the NWS was saying the snowline would stay above trail elevations. Not by a huge margin, but enough that I thought any snow would not be deep. I bought some candy bars, saved a few weather forecasts to my phone, and hiked out the next day.

Just past noon, the precip started. The wind picked up, a 30 mph headwind gusting to 50, blasting my face with cold rain. I braced myself with my poles and pushed steadily uphill. The rain fell in curtains. I stopped a few miles later in a slightly sheltered depression right of the trail. I couldn't go on in those conditions, so, 12 miles in, at 1 pm, I was calling it a day.

The wind absolutely roared through the forest. It sounded like a jetliner. I wore my earplugs as soon as I got into my tent. Through the afternoon, the rain was mixed with small hail and sleet. Stopping at that time was the right move.

It was miraculously quiet and dry in the morning. Even my tent rain fly had dried out. I checked the hourly forecast on InReach. There was an 8 hour window before more rain and I planned to maximize it. I kept a 3.0 mph pace. The trail was clear of snow. At 4 pm it started raining, on schedule, falling straight. I had walked 24 miles and setup camp next to the Feather River.

Next day was clear. Walked for half a day to make it to the road leading into Chester. Took 20 minutes to get a hitch, not bad. So I returned to the town where I had spent 9 days injured. Caught the bus to Quincy at 6 am the next day. My last remaining trail segment is 33 miles and starts/ends in Quincy, while I had already done the segment between Quincy and Chester (passing through Beldentown), hence the bus. 

Day 156, mile 1,498 (57% of the trail)

Since reaching the northern terminus at the US/Canada border, I've traveled back down to Etna in NorCal and have hiked 100 miles southbound to Mt. Shasta city. I have about 200 left to complete my hike.

So, what was the terminus like? Well, you can tell you're near by the whoops and cheers echoing through the forest. I got there on 29 September at around 10:30 am, and honestly, I've been so insistent on not being "done" because of the chunk I skipped, that I didn't feel very much. I wrote in the registry how many miles I had left and after quaffing some champagne from another hiker (glass bottle and all), started marching into Canada alone.

I reached Manning Park a few hours later. MP is a wilderness retreat spot with a restaurant, cabins, a modest hotel, and a gift shop. It's a pretty basic establishment, but to a thru-hiker at this point it might as well be Las Vegas. Figured out the best way to Etna would be a bus to Seattle, then a train to Dunsmuir in California, and two more buses to reach my end point. That night I got dinner with a few other hikers, the parent of one graciously picking up the tab. Some of them talked about just being done with backpacking entirely. All of us were ready for the end.

I caught the bus at 2 am. Spent two nights in downtown Seattle. Got some Ethiopian food for dinner, went to REI and Trader Joe's to resupply. I sent one food box to Burney Mountain Guest Ranch, which is on trail, so that I won't have to hitch into town.

I left Etna on 4 October after a dump 5-6 inches of snow on the trail the previous night. It was really cold and my shoes were soaked through. I was about to turn back when I ran into another southbounder. We talked about the conditions and how I might be a tad short on food, and decided to hike together. What followed was 12 miles of snow covered trail, foggy ridges, and a night camped in a cloud that coated our tents in ice. This had to be my coldest night on the trail, maybe in the teens °F. We split up when I decided I was going to reach Shasta as early as possible, while he was doing a relaxed pace because his hike ended there.

The whole segment from Etna to Mt Shasta city was really beautiful. Russian River wilderness had jagged peaks almost like the Sierra. Castle Crags was this massive formation a few thousand feet tall of granite buttresses gleaming in the sun. This is definitely the nicest part of NorCal I've seen thus far, and I'm glad I decided to not just leave it out of my hike.

I reached the interstate leading to Mt. Shasta at 5:30 pm. A little late to be hitching. A pickup stopped and told me they weren't headed my way, so I told them to have a good day. Then ten minutes later, came back and said they figured it'd be more interesting to talk to a hitch hiker than go on with their picnic that evening. The trail provides. They dropped me off with a slice of home made apple pie, which was still warm and incredible, and gave me their number for tomorrow so that hey could drive me back to the trail.

It was a typical town stop: laundry, calories, sleep. Went to a cafe and after talking about the trail a bit with the cashier, he gave me two cookies. Omg so much magic. Got a ride back with the guy from the day before, told me to call him if needed. People are awesome.

Now I'm camped 8 miles south of Mt. Shasta. There was a bit of solo night hiking, during which i was pretty anxious about mountain lions and bears, oh my. An hour ago I heard a series of twigs slowly snapping maybe thirty feet away. Started banging my poles together and shouting. Don't know if it had any effect. I never saw any eyeshine in the dark so who knows. I have two more nights until I reach Burney, at which it is forecast to rain for five days (seriously). I'll be doing two one-night segments following that, passing through Old Station where I can recuperate, so it shouldn't be too bad. 

Day 146, mile 2,644 (99.8% of the trail)

Been going a lot faster recently. Did 31.5 miles with 6,000 ft gain in 10.8 hours, giving an average speed of 2.9 mph. The day before, I did 30.0 miles, 7,400 ft gain in 10.1 hours, 3.0 mph. My usual speed in this kind of terrain is around 2.3-2.5 mph, so this is a big jump. The only things I've changed are that I'm eating less and taking much smaller steps. The latter seems to preserve my legs much better throughout the day. Did I really just get a free 20% boost in hiking speed? I'm also feeling less tired when I get to camp, so it's not that I'm just exerting myself more. If I can sustain this, I could do the 301 miles I skipped in NorCal, which is much flatter than Washington, in 9-10 days. I can't believe it took 2,300 miles to figure out my gait was wrong.

I'm also 6 miles from the northern terminus. Going to tag it in the morning then head up 8 miles into Canada to Manning Park. From there, I'm going to Vancouver by bus. Then I have to figure out the cheapest way to get back to Etna, mile 1,597.

Mice are scurrying around my tent. They already chewed through a like-new pair of Arc'teryx gloves. Very annoying. 

Day 140, mile 2,518 (95% of the trail)

Hiked 27.2 miles with 7,600 ft of cumulative elevation gain, overall speed 2.2 mph. Oof. Gorgeous views of the Cascades. Did not see another northbound hiker until I reached camp at Mica Lake. Fog rolled in at 6 pm, continued hiking in decreasing visibility for 1.5 hours. Everything was grey-blue, uneasy hiking alone in such conditions on a steep, scree-covered trail. Noticed new snow as low as 6,000 ft. The PCT has five more climbs that top out at 6,000-7,000 ft.

Day 139, mile 2,491 (94% of the trail)

Crazy past few days. Hiked for 11 hours in straight rain. Five hours in, I passed a southbounder who said, "it's a little damp, but it smells amazing!" I could have punched her. My phone died in the rain, so once I got to Leavenworth, I took a bus to the nearest medium city and bought a new phone plus waterproof case, and a new service plan, all for $640. Ouch.

While I was hitching out of Leavenworth, Ambulance came ambling out of a hotel and joined in the fun. She had a terrifying experience falling into raging, freezing cold whitewater, holding onto a log to keep from drowning. Probably the closest call I've heard this year.

Everyone's talking about the weather. I'm camped at 5,500 ft and there was a brief but scary thunder hailstorm a few hours ago. We all watch multiple forecasts like hawks, looking for windows. Stressful, but only eight or so days until I reach the end. At which I take a few trains and buses to Northern California to southbound the 301 miles I skipped due to injury. 

Day 128, mile 2,266 (86% of the trail)

Blow by blow account of a typical day. Been meaning to do this for a while. 

Woke up at 6 am. Slipped on shoes and stood outside to pee. It's maybe in the upper 40s °F. I'm wearing my thermals and down jacket. Condensation is on everything, including the outside of my sleeping bag. Grass is very wet. I fire up the stove to make coffee. It's Starbucks Via with lots of sugar. Delicious. Watch the sun come up from behind Mt. Adams. I chug the coffee and rinse out the pot and begin packing up camp. At 7:35, I start walking. 

The trail winds a lot and passes several milky streams. I get water from a non-milky one. Suds is there. I say Hi but mostly finish filtering my water and snacking. Run into Snuggles a bit later. He notes how empty the trail is since he took an 8-day trail break. The herd has passed I tell him, and will probably finish in 6 or 7 days. He passes me while I'm on a break, I pass him later while he's taking lunch next to a creek. I see a couple of bowhunters in camouflage on trail carrying a small, mottled-grey bird. I don't see Suds or Snuggles for the rest of the day. 

The trail stays mostly flat and crosses a couple of dirt roads. At the second one, there's a picnic going on with some thru-hikers and their friend from Washington. They take my trash and give me chocolate. They also offer to take my picture with my camera, figuring that I'm a solo hiker and don't have many photos with me in it. Sure. I keep walking. 

Several miles later, there's a creek with good logs for sitting. It's 5 pm. I anticipate a dry camp that night so I decide to eat dinner there, saving me from carrying an extra liter of water (2.2 lb). Socks shows up 10 minutes later. I thought he was ahead of me since I went into a town that he skipped, but it turns out he got up really late that morning, and I probably passed him then. Dinner is two instant ramens (chicken) with soy protein flakes, olive oil for fat, freeze dried veggies (running low), and curry powder. The veggies add nice color to the starch. Handful of M&Ms and dried apricots for dessert. Rinse out my pot and pack up. 

I push on, hoping to make it 7 miles to the next campsite before 8:30 pm. The trail opens up to some incredible views of forest around a lake with Mt. Adams in the background. I could get lost staring at those trees. Glaciated Adams looks like it's on another planet. I arrive at the campsite on time by the light of my headlamp.  

I unpack and setup my tent. My InReach weather forecast says there's a 10% chance of rain at 6 am. NOAA forecasts aren't terribly accurate in mountainous regions, so I put my tent rainfly on any way. Expected low is 43 °F; water filter is definitely going into the sleeping bag tonight (freezing damages them). Socks passes by. He's going farther to check out the lake, which probably has better campsites. I've walked 32.4 miles today so I'm good. Average speed including all breaks was 2.5 mph. I put on my synthetic thermals and get in my sleeping bag. Hear someone coughing nearby, guess I have a neighbor. Typed this in 30 minutes, going to sleep at 10 pm. 

Day 124, mile 2,152 (81% of the trail)

Took the Eagle Creek alternate and made it to Cascade Locks. Eagle Creek is a very pretty trail with Tunnel Falls, a waterfall with a trail passing through a cave behind it. Lots of other falls and bowls carved out of the stone along the trail as well. Pretty much every alternate to the PCT in Oregon is said to be more scenic than the PCT itself, which makes me wonder why the PCT was routed how it is. 

The trail eventually became a road walk entering the town of Cascade Locks (at sea level). A guy at a fruit stand gave me a peach. Good sign. I walked to the trail angel place with free camping. Ran into Silent Bob there, who gave an understated, "holy shit" when I told him who I was. Haven't seen him in months. Got dinner and drinks with the Optimist. He and I have been hiking around each other for a few days. We like to shit talk about hikers who have skipped large parts of the trail, especially the ones who are cagey about it, though honestly it doesn't bother me. HYOH. We've concluded though that many southerbounders can't be trusted. The burger, crostini, salmon chowder, and strawberry cider were all very good.

The next day I found out one of my packages was missing. While I waited behind the bar to see if my it had been misrouted there, Ambulance was frantically trying to sort out her phone service. Her British mobile plan was inexplicably shut off yesterday, and so the bartender from the place we ate at yesterday was going to give her a ride to Troutdale to get her a new plan. My package had my warm layers. I really needed them, so I decided to join them and make it to whatever sporting goods store Troutdale had. While there I got a call saying they found it. It was with a camp host at the RV park, who had been holding onto it for the last four days instead of giving it to the office. Unbelievable. 

The bartender was awesome. I couldn't believe someone would just go out of their way to help hikers like that. She's been stocking the hiker box in the back room with condoms and pregnancy tests, which disappear pretty quickly. We ended up going to REI to pick up some stuff for Optimist and stopped at Chick-fil-a, which I have been craving for months. 

Got back in the afternoon. Took down my campsite and loaded my pack for an hour and set off to cross the Bridge of the Gods. Crossing it has less fanfare than entering Kennedy Meadows, it's just you plus cars, but it did feel pretty great knowing I just walked across a whole state. Now I am camped 5 miles into Washington. 

With the addition of my warm clothes and an 84 mile food supply, I'm really feeling the weight of my pack. I'm beginning to think double wall shelters are just overkill for thru-hiking. 2.5 lb/person for a shelter is a lot, plus the tent, rainfly, and poles take up a ton of pack space. Starting over, I would definitely shell out the $500+ for a ZPacks cuben fiber shelter. They pack up tiny and are around a pound. Grass is always greener though. When it's dry out I love having just a mesh tent where I can see the stars. When it's wet, I wish I had my TarpTent with the pre-attached rainfly. When I'm walking, I just want the lightest damn shelter out there. Mostly I am walking. 

Day 121, mile 2,094 (79% of the trail)

The trail has gotten very cold. Maybe 50s °F in the day, 40s at night. I'm still in Oregon, two days from the Washington border. Took a zero in Portland, spending the entire day running errands. Washing and drying my down quilt took four hours but now it's super puffy and warm. Nothing interesting happened in that city though. 

I'm back on trail but camped at Timberline Lodge on Mt. Hood (11,171 ft.). Taking what amounts to another zero today because I need to be in Cascade Locks on Tuesday when the PO is open (Monday is Labor Day), and it's only Saturday. Segment will take less than two days. Very annoying to take days off waiting for mail, but it's a pretty common trail delay. I'll also get another incredible buffet at the lodge. 

I left Portland with some new Arc'teryx windstopper gloves and a synthetic baselayer tshirt from REI. This should suffice until I get my new much warmer layers in Cascade Locks. 

Day 115, mile 2,001 (76% of the trail)

Camped 20 miles from the road where I hitched into Sisters, Oregon. Dreadfully kitsch town, but I got to eat lots of fruit and drink soda. The motel didn't have my package. I asked them to forward it if they receive it tomorrow but I suspect that will fall through, in which case I'll have to buy a new set of merino baselayers in Portland (not too hard to get to from Cascade Locks). $100 shirt doe. I shared the motel room with Dirty B and Spoon Train. The debauchery they've gotten into since Campo is a side of the trail I haven't seen. We drank and mused on how many hikers have quit so far. He thinks around half have left, I think at least 20%. On the way out of the motel this morning I ran into Pineapple getting breakfast with her boyfriend, who's joining her on the trail. Offered them the rest of my bourbon, which they accepted. Not carrying that glass bottle, my titanium flask is full. My ride back to the trail hiked in 2000. He told me of the Washington storms. I'm wondering now how many days, if any, I'll spend in motels waiting out bad weather.

Day 108, mile 1,818 (69% of the trail)

Made it to Crater Lake. Knee is holding up, I've now over 200 miles on it. Trail is very hot with not much views, but I found raspberries and huckleberries that made it all worthwhile. 

On the way up here I stopped in Ashland, Oregon. That was a cool town with nice people, pourover coffee, and bumper stickers that said, "be weird." I swear the day hiker I met on trail spoke in NPR voice. Welcome to Oregon. Stayed at a hostel where I was bunk mates with Quick Change (Switzerland). She was shocked that I was this far behind the herd, since we crossed paths in the desert a few times where I was pretty brisk. Explained the injury and the off-trail time. She's trying to catch up with her hiking partner, I'm just trying to book it. Next morning I took off. 

I've been looking at the trail registries and have noticed a lot of names absent, including many strong hikers. Overall with fewer people in the trail, it's gotten quieter and less idle. I'm pushing for high miles so I'm either walking, eating, peeing, or sleeping. It's a little less fun being rushed, but the earlier I get to Washington the more likely I'll avoid the waves of cold fog and rain. I miss my trail crew, but I'm foremost trying to complete the hike efficiently. 

Day 101, mile 1,647 (61% of the trail)

I got back on the trail three days ago at Etna, mile 1,597. My mileage for these days has been 7, 18, 24 (today). My body feels like it could do 6 more miles today, but my feet do not. After my two week break, my soles have softened and start aching at 20 miles. Before all this I was hiking marathons with ease. I predict I'll be in the low-mid 20s for at least a week, and hopefully consistent 30s by the time I finish Oregon. The Oregon Challenge (crossing the whole state in 14 days) is out the window though. 

My knee has the slightest twinge of pain at the left edge of the patella. When I left Bishop it was extremely faint and I figured it'd be gone by the time I'd start hiking three days later (two days to get to Etna via bus and train, one rest day in Etna). Can't really tell if the pain is different now. Not good that it's still there, on the other hand it hasn't flared up after a 19 mile downhill. Will just have to hike and see. 

So, about the trail. NorCal is really hot. It's not as drab as I expected, but it's about as hot as the desert was. There's more water though. The views haven't entirely ended, and today I passed by the Marble Mountains, which are these lumpy peaks of white marble. I've realized that the second half of the PCT somewhat mirrors the first. This time it's an 800 mile gauntlet to Cascade Locks, at which the trail enters the Washington Cascades. 

5 August, off trail

I’m home in Bishop. A few days ago I was in Burney, thinking about returning to the trail. I could still feel soreness in my right knee. That was on a sidewalk, on the trail it’d be worse. This was taking longer than anticipated. I relented and decided to go home and see a physical therapist. After a redeye bus and train ride from Redding to San Diego, I took another bus to Tecate where my truck was parked at a trail angel’s house. (Did you know California transit could do this? I did not.) I wanted to get to Bishop soon and not at all settle down, so after getting lunch at a Korean restaurant in San Diego, I made a straight shot for Bishop 6 hours north. On the way up the 395, I passed signage for Warner Springs, and saw the McDonalds at Cajon Pass, and saw another sign for the turnoff to Kennedy Meadows. These all seem very long ago, but steeped in memories.

The physical therapist saw me for half an hour and recommended taping my knee to keep it centered. I’ve always been envious of those hikers with legs crisscrossed by neon athletic tape, so this is a welcome development. I’ll be doing the exercises and stretches he recommended for a few days, then be heading back to the trail some time next week. Not sure if I’ll skip up to Dunsmuir (mile 1,500) or Ashland, Oregon (mile 1,716).

Some minor gear changes. I’m ditching my really cool titanium mug and tea infuser, saving me 3 oz. Loose leaf tea brewed with pristine alpine water on a cold Sierra morning was unreal, but it’s going to be hot for a few hundred miles. I am also pressing into service my Delorme InReach (2-way satellite communicator and rescue beacon). You can track me at http://share.delorme.com/jc. This is mostly for fun, Oregon isn’t especially hazardous. It will have more value in Washington though. There could be rain and snow, and I can request weather forecasts on the InReach. Also throwing in some Body Glide to prevent any bouts of butt chafe in this heat.

Day 87, 31 July, mile 1,329 (50% of the trail)

I've made the difficult decision of skipping 84 miles to get up to Burney. This brings my total mileage voluntarily skipped to 117 miles or about 5 days of hiking.

I'm losing my mind in Chester. There isn't even a movie theatre here. I need to move North somehow even if my knee can't bear it. So I'm taking a bus to Redding, then another to Burney.

I should be able to finish before October if my knee holds up. If it doesn't then I'll probably shelve this thru-hike. I'm mainly just a mountaineer. No magical PCT mysticism from this guy. 

Day 84, 28 July, mile 1,329 (50% of the trail)

Still letting the knee heal up in Chester. It got markedly better in the past two days, so I'm going to wait it out on the trail. I may still skip up 100 miles or so. I've been on a regimen of icing, popping Advils, and doing quad sets that strengthen my inner quads to correct my knee tracking. It's not 💯 yet, but it's at the point where heading back to Southern California wouldn't be worth it. 

Finally met Rabies yesterday. He's 16 and trying to set a record as the youngest unsupported thru-hiker. Tea Time was a profoundly bored Israeli hiker waiting for a pick up from his girlfriend. I watched him walk into the field and attempt a handstand before toppling over. Smoked some incredibly strong hash with Butterscotch, whose standard refrain on any female hiker is, "She was looking sexy." Everyone's in great shape at this point so I can't disagree. Animal Style, whom I haven't seen since Whitney, showed us his tattered flag of Israel. He's got a spare hanging off his pack

Day 80, 25 July, mile 1,329 (50% of the trail)

Can't sleep because I drank too much coffee this morning, so, blog time. I'm in Chester, which is a small town in Northern California, 8 miles from the PCT. I've decided I'm going to let my knee heal completely before I return to the trail. This may take several days. The worst case is it takes several weeks and I end up needing physical therapy to get the kneecap tracking right. In that case I'd need to put off completing the PCT for another year. Huge downer. I've made it halfway, which is pretty incredible though. There was a hiker this year doing his second PCT thru-hike. 100 miles into the trail he tripped, fell, and broke his wrist. Another hiker in 2013 broke his ankle on day 1. It can happen to anyone, and there's an element of luck in successfully completing a thru. My mistake was pretty much bad decision making though. I wanted to race through NorCal and Oregon, pushing to complete 27, 28, and 29 mile days heading into Sierra City, a good bump up from my previous days in the mid-20s. It was just too much too soon.

This delay in my hiking pace means I'm seeing people on the trail whom I haven't seen since the desert. Most of the time, I don't remember them, but they almost always remember me, maybe because I'm one of like eight people of color on the trail. I'm usually good with names, but all these white lanky bearded dudes in sunglasses blend into each other.

Earlier today, I ran into the guy who gave me a ride into Quincy. He's a Swiss-French section-hiker with limited English, but he does this amazing rapid charades thing that I'm able to understand almost as well. Nice guy who's enjoying his retirement and can't stand driving an automatic on hilly California roads.

Random gear notes. I got the Helinox Passport 120 cm adjustable trekking poles. These are the lightest poles I've ever tried, possibly lighter than most carbon poles despite being aluminum. Only downside is the length is too short for most pole-supported shelters, but I've got my BD Alpine Carbon Cork poles for that. These will be my speed poles, I love being able to whip them forward each step. The Big Agnes Copper Spur is working well. The inner mesh tent pitches very quickly and the pole design seems to handle winds well. The tent comes with taped seams and is overall a more polished product than TarpTents. I haven't used the rain fly much, but it is a little annoying to put on the tent and stake out, versus the pre-connected fly on my TarpTent. It's a tradeoff I guess, just gotta be zen about my tent pitching.

Day 76, 20 July 2016, mile 1,275 (48% of the trail)

(I'll no longer attempt to summarize every day. I'm hoping this will make blogging less of a chore for me and make me post more frequently.)

Hiked a whopping 10 miles today. My knee still feels a little tweaked, and it was getting worse as the day went on. Tomorrow there's a 4,000' descent into Belden. This will be a real test as to whether I can continue in this state. I'm trying to mentally brace myself for a 1-2 week trail break, if that is what I need to recover. It kills me to interrupt my hike like this, but sometimes you don't have a choice. People can require surgery for this kind of thing. Knee problems can be trip ending.

If I do take a 1-2 week break, when I return I'll have to skip up something like 200 miles to reach the Northern terminus in time. In that period, I'll lose my "trail legs" and be doing low miles for a few weeks. If I still finish in late September, I can do the sections I skipped this year. I'm not a purist, but I am a completist.

I ran into some other injured hikers in Quincy. There was a father whose son wasn't feeling great due to a heart condition. They're taking at least a week off, hitching to Chico (100ish miles away) and renting a car to drive down the PCH. Amazing they made it this far; they also summited Denali (guided) two years ago. Good guys both of them. Moulson is a Canadian with a knee tendon issue. He's ending his hike, and figures that he needs surgery not just a break. Really funny, good natured person and I'm sad to see him go. This portion of the trail is shaping up to be the thru-hiker graveyard I've heard it to be. It's around the halfway point, and has little scenery. Spirits are noticeably drained. Still better than the AT I bet.

A lot of people say the trail is humbling. Usually this refers to the physical strain, a little to the mental. It's also really humbling because of the strong people you meet who don't make it or who give you invaluable advice, reminding you of how little you know. I went into this as a strong and experienced backpacker but now I'm saddled with an overuse injury. Wilderness trips definitely have an ego diminishing effect.

Days 66-75, miles 1,101-1,235 (47% of the trail)

I've been in the small mountain town of Quincy, California for five days waiting out a nasty case of chondromalacia patella. This is a common overuse injury affecting the knee. This has really stressed me out, since I'm way behind my trail friends and these town stays are expensive. I was hoping to return to the trail today (now with a knee brace and new trekking poles), but there's still some pain when I fully contract my leg and I'd hate to aggravate it. If it does get worse, I'll probably go to Reno by bus (several hours away), rent a car and take a week off. I'd have to adjust my trail schedule to skip 100 miles ahead, and do those miles later. This is a real test of patience. All I did was hike for about 10% longer per day for three days and boom, I could barely walk because my knee was killing me and swelling. There's a guideline in running that you shouldn't increase your mileage more than 10% per week. I should probably follow that from now on. 

Days 61-65, miles 907-1101 (42% of the trail)

I'm camped a few miles from the city of South Lake Tahoe. Took a zero there and ran errands. Also watched Purge 3. Junk food and film are way more enjoyable on the trail. Shared a hostel room with two Australian tourists who were honestly pretty annoying. Glad to be back on the trail. I'm officially done with the Sierra Nevada and now in NorCal. There's a lot of talk about how much hotter and flatter it'll be. Also, how much more boring the scenery. I passed by Lake Aloha though today, which was gorgeous. White capped waves.

Getting here from Kennedy Meadows North was pretty nice. The mountains gave way to columns of volcanic rock and meadows. It was a weird mix of desert and alpine.

Gear Report

I sent home my ice axe, waterproof socks, wool gloves, hiking pants, and microspikes. The waterproof socks were a last minute addition that I didn't see on any gear lists before the trail, but were mentioned in a PCT 2016 Facebook group as being helpful in the Sierra. They worked really well, and while they did wet out eventually, my feet generally stayed much warmer. I'd definitely recommend them for average and above snow years. Also received my Patagonia Alpine Houdini pants. These things are super light and trim fitting.

The big change is my shelter. I ordered a Big Agnes Copper Spur UL1 tent and groundsheet. This weighs about the same as my TarpTent Moment DW, but is freestanding and less finicky to pitch. It has a side entrance unlike the even lighter Fly Creek. What's the deal with pitching the Moment DW using its two stakes? Well, there are a lot of straps to tighten, but the main thing is that the silnylon loses tension when it gets cold. So a taut tent when you go to bed becomes a loose, flappy, and weak tent a few hours later. And then the winds pick up and one end collapses. I've got a lot more to say about Henry Shires's TarpTents. The geometries are really innovative and his tents are affordable. They just sacrifice a bit too much livability for me, with the sagging and condensation, which are well known drawbacks. His tents tend to review really well but get swapped out for something more conventional by normal backpackers. This is my third TarpTent, and probably my last.

Injury Report

Some pain and tingling in my right glute. I think it's a pinched nerve from my pack not being fitted right. Adjusted pack straps and hip belt to position my pack higher on my back. Weird soreness inside my left knee joint. Almost feels like a muscle tear, but I don't recall ever feeling the initial tear. Really, really hope it's not a tear, because that could knock me out for over a week

Days 54-60, miles 907-1,031 (39% of the trail)

It's around 6 pm and I'm making dinner on the trail. I'm calling it a short day because I'm just not feeling it today. Hiked 14 miles from Kennedy Meadows North resort (not to be confused with the Kennedy Meadows at mile 702, the entry point to the Sierra). There, I sent home my 2-lb bear canister and had an excellent prime rib. A guy at the next table over asked if we were PCTers, then put two bottles of wine on our table. I was ok with this.

The trail from Mammoth Lakes was pretty hard. The mountain passes were lower but still tiring, and there were many creek fords. I walked through knee deep water several times per day, in addition to flooded sections of trail every twenty minutes. I'm a little concerned about trench foot. Also, tons of mosquitoes.

I passed through Yosemite National Park. Decided to skip it because it's an annoying tourist trap this time of year, and I had just backpacked there two months ago.

The final mountain pass was the dreaded Sonora. I read a week ago about a woman there who slipped on the steep snow, hit some rocks, and had to call an ambulance. This was a tough descent. The north face was very steep and covered in packed snow. It was not very tracked out, so the three hikers part-way down were sitting on their butts, carefully lowering themselves down while holding rocks. There was also an *insane* glissade track from the top. It was super steep, like a black diamond ski run, and had a boulder filled runout at the bottom. One of the hikers who did it had a nasty ice burn from wearing running shorts, and told us she left blood in the snow. I went down the boring way, using my ice axe to steady myself and kicking in steps with my heels. A little tricky in sneakers, but it was an uneventful descent for me.

Now I'm 60 miles from South Lake Tahoe, where I'll take a zero. Still deciding on a buffet to hit up. Probably Harrah's or the sushi one. Hiker hunger has kind of been a bust for me. I get hungrier, but it's not like I'm finishing off multiple entrées at once. Yogi's guide exaggerated everything. 

Days 38-53, miles 702-907 (34% of the trail)

Not dead yet. I'm in Mammoth Lakes for two zero days. I've rented a car to run some errands, like going to the dentist and exchanging stuff from my storage unit in Bishop (45 minutes away). In my down time I'm usually just decompressing, since the hiking in the Sierra Nevada has been so taxing. And, well, I'm terrible at describing everything I've seen. I'm overwhelmed.

In the past 200 miles of trail I've been through eight or nine mountain passes at 11,000-13,000'. Almost all of my miles above 11,000' have been in snow. I've postholed knee-deep into freezing water wearing sneakers and socks, and gotten dry in a few hours of high altitude sun. I've caught and eaten trout from lakes at 10,000'. I've been drinking water straight from transparent streams, no treatment. I've forded creeks of snowmelt up to my waist, after which I'm gasping and doubled over from the cold shock. It's like a whole-body ice cream headache. I've watched hikers get knocked over by swift currents, briefly swimming as they grab a tree from the opposite shore.

I hiked to the summit of Mt. Whitney from the PCT. This was my third summit, and my first approach from the west side. My plan was to start at 12:15 am, anticipating a 5-hr ascent, in order to catch the sunrise. Isao from Japan said it sounded like climbing Mt. Fuji. He preferred to sleep. A few miles in, I spotted a pair of shining blue eyes ahead of me in the dark. I stood on a stump to make myself look bigger and started banging my ice axe to scare it off, but the eyes just smoothly moved while facing me. It wasn't a jumpy deer, plus the eyes were set too wide. A few minutes later I was met by Animal Style (Israel) and Jet Pack (USA). Safer in numbers, we continued up with our headlamps illuminating the snow. The summit was frigid with steady 20 mph winds, but the morning alpenglow was more than worth it. We piled into the summit hut, sharing whiskey, before heading back down.

The past two weeks have just been constant spectacular alpine terrain. Transparent lakes surrounded by walls of granite cut by white ribbon waterfalls. Raging ice blue rivers leaping over boulders. It's also been really hard. Hiking twenty miles here feels like thirty in the desert. Above 11,000', every step is labored. You just feel like there's always less gas.

Some people have been quitting. A German hiker wasn't handling the altitude well over some of the passes. He got off the trail at Bishop, caught a flight to LAX, and then to Frankfurt. One woman with a recent hip replacement was having trouble at Forester pass (earliest and one of the scariest passes). A couple of hikers helped her walk for four hours until she couldn't go on. One of them had a GPS beacon, and they SOS'd to get a helicopter to carry her out. Other hikers are just getting bored, 45-65 days of hiking was enough. I can't imagine quitting, just because my worst frigid morning waking up in the wilderness with fresh mosquito bites is still 100x better than waking up in my bed during a weekday. This is an incredible way to live.

​Days 34-37, miles 652-702 (26% of the trail)

The hiking mellowed out from mile 652. It got cooler and greener, with a real, running spring swarming with mosquitoes. But hey, water. Ran into a (wild?) bull on the trail. Free range and grass fed. No idea how it got out to the PCT. We left each other alone. No interest in trying out one of Hemingway's other "sports."

I made it to the Kennedy Meadows General Store on June 10, day 36 of my hike. The end of the desert and the start of the Sierra. The store has a large patio filled with hikers this time of year. Each time a new hiker approaches, everyone applauds. It's a great finish to all that grueling desert hiking. It was some of the hardest hiking I've ever done.

Sierra Nevada Pale Ale was everywhere. Hikers were examining brand new ice axes and unboxing microspikes. Talked briefly about tenkara fishing with Downtime, a Swede who saw me unpacking my new rod. G-String (California) was having trouble with his. They're telescoping rods and it seemed he was too vigorous swinging it out, getting the last piece stuck. He thought I might have been a tenkara master and could fix it, but nope.

Hiked out the next afternoon. Too crowded for me. Many of us toked that day, while a large group was all giggly from shrooms. I started walking at 5:30 pm, mostly sober, hoping to camp alone for once.

Gear Changes

Out:

umbrella

sawyer filter

titanium mug

body glide

In:

ice axe

microspikes

one trekking pole with snow basket

tenkara fishing rod (3.4 oz, carbon fiber)

bear canister

windstopper gloves

DEET and picaridin insect repellants

headnet

baseball cap

Aqua Mira drops

Cheap waterproof socks from Amazon

Days 27-33, miles 559-652 (25% of the trail)

[Day numbers may be a little off]

The next day was simple. I hitched into Tehachapi, ran into some new and old faces. The big news was a new forest fire, the Chimney Fire, which was causing a closure of the PCT from mile 652 to 702. Later in the day I determined I could keep hiking and get off into town at mile 652 if the fire was still active. I showered that night and prepared to leave the next afternoon.

What followed was a stretch of some of the worst hiking I've suffered through this far. After a bit of night hiking, I cowboy camped at 10:30 pm and got up at 4 am. I had picked up a plastic Coke bottle of water on the trail. I could use some more water, and it was litter. The trail continued up for a thousand feet of gain. When I topped out, I poured the bottle into my Platypus bottle (flexible plastic bottles that can be rolled up when empty) and a piney scent filled the air. Not water. There were now two separate layers of liquid in the Platy. Blobs of clear liquid stuck to the inside surface of the bottle. It seemed to be an oily fuel. It wasn't alcohol though and it wasn't white gas, which smell and look different. I had to assess my situation. I had contaminated my last water container and had no drinkable water. The next water source was 12 miles down the trail; I couldn't get that far safely. The container was ruined and I couldn't continue 3 days to the next town with only 4 liters of total capacity. I needed to return to Tehachapi for new containers, which meant I needed to descend, and doing that would require some water as well. I'd need to bum some off other hikers. It was mid-day and this unplanned trip back to town would cost me most of the day. All of this was realized in an instant. It was annoying, but I still had plenty of days to get to Kennedy Meadows at mile 702. So I began to head back down the hill.

A hiker gave me a liter of water which was plenty. Then I ran into a couple, who, after hearing my plight, gave me another 2-liter Platypus. They gave me some more water and I was back on track.

After 4 hours of punishingly hot mid-day hiking uphill, I reached the water source. It was a concrete cistern about a foot deep. The water was covered in bright green algae, and mosquito larvae and tadpoles were wriggling throughout. Five hikers were drawing from it and filtering it. An Australian girl said she was "excited" for this flavorful water. Around twenty others were lying around siesta'ing. I filled up, treated my water, chatted with hikers, and slept for an hour.

The rest of the hike to mile 652 was a grind. Wake up at the ass crack of dawn, rinse and repeat. One night we reached camp at 10:30 pm with winds howling past Joshua trees. Tents were warping in the wind and looked ready to take off, but all held fast. Other parties showed up shortly, sweeping their headlamps around the dirt and manzanita trees, illuminating our tents like paper lanterns. Presente (Portlander I've been leapfrogging on the trail with in the past few weeks) would later describe the feeling that night as being on another planet. We were explorers in the dark. This was one of those tough times in the wilderness that gives way to a sense of wonder.

The next day was a smooth walk to the highway where mile 652 crosses. Stuck my thumb out and got a ride from a young French couple. They were touring the US for two months and liked it thus far. They dropped me off in Ridgecrest, which was a broiling 106 °F. Resupplied with 6,700 calories for the 50 mile trip to Kennedy Meadows (150 cal/mile, had 800 cal leftover), and returned to the trail the next day. 

Days 25-26, mile 559 (21% of the trail)

The aqueduct was pretty ok. I left Hikertown at 5:30 pm and walked 16 miles to a bridge with a water spigot. It was mostly flat, but climbed a little into a wind farm. Temps were cool. Winds seemed to be 30-40 mph. It was hard to push through, but I wanted to maximize my nighttime hiking. Near the end, at around midnight, I spotted a hiker hunkering down for the night in a grassy ditch by the dirt road which made up the trail. "I can't take this wind, so I'm sleeping here," shouted at me in a British accent. Told him it was good to see another hiker out here, and kept walking. I reached the bridge at 12:30 am, and cowboy camped (sleeping outside without a tent or other enclosed shelter, just a sleeping bag, pad on a groundsheet) next to a small concrete building on one end. Winds stayed the entire night. Another party arrived at 3:30 am, headlamps shining, and I tried to fall back asleep.

I got up an hour later. Pre-dawn hiking, siesta, then night hiking was the plan. The following section was through a large wind farm. This was fine. Wind turbines are surprisingly noisy up close. Reached Tylerhorse Canyon at 8 am, which had a flowing creek and a large oak tree. I was the first to arrive that day, but in a few hours there were about a dozen hikers trying to beat the heat. I left around noon because it really wasn't that hot.

Then I miscalculated. While the temp wasn't that high, the air was much dryer than in earlier parts of the trail. I brought 2.5 liters of water to hike 15 miles. A couple hours in, I saw the trail switchback up a hill for 1,500', fully exposed. I had around a liter left and over 10 miles until the nearest road. I had to ration (a sip every 15 minutes, on the hour), and started slowing my pace to avoid overheating, since I couldn't afford to sweat much. I figured I could reach the top, wait until sunset, then descend for 7 miles to the road, and hitch into town. I'd be very thirsty, but I could do it.

I didn't die. At the top was a massive water cache stocked with 30 gallons and a basket of green apples. I stayed for an hour, considered camping there, but ended up just going all the way down. Around 7 pm, a naked guy wearing only sneakers came running up the trail. It was Coppertone, a trail angel who makes root beer floats for hikers at various points on the trail. I reached the parking lot where his van was parked. He came back down, put on clothes, and we talked about running before I went to sleep on the edge of the lot. 

Day 25 mile 518 (20% of the trail)

Headlamps are coming out of packs as everyone is night hiking to beat the heat. In the forest at night, points of light bob through the trees. It's 12 noon, 93 °F, and we are siesta'ing at Hikertown, an odd western themed hiker hangout with $10 (mostly barren) rooms and a single garden hose shower for the patrons. The beautiful Los Angeles aqueduct is coming up tonight. Twenty miles of concrete. Come at me, urban sprawl (wait don't).

Day 24 afternoon, mile 478 (18% of the trail)

I've stopped at Casa de Luna, a well known trail angel place. There's bbq and beer. Talked with Caitlyn from Colorado. She has a 9-lb base weight in a frameless MLD pack. Mine is around 14 lb. I've met a few guys pulling consistent 30-mile days. Brian has shot ahead; Squints is hanging out playing the poker. Really good seeing him again. Politics designs water treatment systems for a living and schooled me on backcountry water treatment ("Algal toxins should be neutralized by chlorine dioxide"). He's using an MSR Guardian pump which filters viruses, and is probably the most hardcore filter on the market. Bud and his wife Fret (the verb) are also new people. Bud's not taking an ice axe into the Sierra, Fret, true to her name, is.

Days 18-24 morning, mile 454 (17% of the trail)

The last six days have been pretty smooth. I've got my hiking routine together, checking maps, buying the right amount of food. I had to dodge some nasty Poodle Dog Bush in the last two days. PDB is this mean-looking plant that smells like spoilt marijuana and causes a blistering rash. The really bad overgrowths cause trail detours. I'm past the worst of it though.

I'm in the town of Agua Dulce. It's 7 am and before I head back to the trail, I'm getting a coffee and tortillas. The stretch ahead is the final portion of "desert," scare quotes because it's not really desert in the sense of low elevation, flat terrain (Death Valley etc.). It's actually hilly and should stay below 100 deg F.

At my pace, I should be at Kennedy Meadows in 12 days. KM is the unofficial start of the Sierra Nevada portion of the trail, and the transition to an alpine environment. The timing is a tad early. There's a lot of talk about the snow and I've met several people bringing crampons. One person is taking snowshoes. I'm bringing my ice axe for sure, but am holding off on any traction devices. I think the snow will be soft and tracked out enough by then, and I'll be able to chop steps with the piolet. 

Engineering

Parallels between thru-hiking and engineering school:

- Much camaraderie through shared suffering
- 80% drop out rate
- Far more men than women
- You eat a lot of instant ramen

Days 16-17, mile 384 (14% of the trail)

McDonald's was a success. I packed out two apple pies. We hiked out a few miles and camped in a grassy gulch that looked like the foothills of the Himalaya. In the morning, we set off for Wrightwood, with nearly 6,000' of ascent. The hike was uneventful and not that bad. The last portion of the hike descended into Wrightwood, where I hung out with some former coworkers (hi Jim and Alicia!). For lodging I ended up splitting a room with two other hikers. Within an hour the sink stopper broke, we found the toilet didn't really flush, and the shower trickled. My climbing buddy Ron visited from LA and he filled me in on his sufferfest Cactus 2 Clouds 2 Cactus hike. The next day, Brian and I found a much nicer place via CouchSurfing. The host was an electronics guru with a chill dog. In the morning we started toward Little Jimmy campground, 26 miles away, the first stop on our trip to Agua Dulce (next town on the PCT).

I got to the campground at 7 pm, where the host invited me to the campfire. There's this ancient feeling of safety sitting next to a fire in the woods. It feels like you're protected. Some young people today describe cities as feeling safer. Campfireish. The host was leaving soon for the Israel National Trail, which runs north-south for 600 miles. I poured some water I heated on the outdoor wood stove into a Nalgene, and held it for warmth in my sleeping bag.

Day 15 mile 320 (12% of the trail)

There is a hot spring directly on the trail and it is everything you could ever hope for and more.

The other big topic on the trail is the McDonalds coming up 22 miles away. Seriously, we've had like four conversations about it in the past 48 hours. We're all getting quarter pounders, mcflurries, and a shitload of apple pies. Oh my god the calories, I can't wait. 

Day 14 mile 295 (11.1% of the trail)

Hiked a marathon. Hunk, Squints, Brian, Aisha (New Zealand), and I have made a good party. They're all crazy fast and runners. Flower (Netherlands) is camped here with us and has an awesome Fjallraven winter expedition tent. Thing looks bomber. 

Days 9-13 mile 269 (10.2% of the trail)

These posts will probably become less frequent, as I'm usually too tired to blog. It's not from lack of noteworthy events. The trail is dense with experiences and I can't imagine how the next four months will be. I have trouble distilling just the past four days, but here goes.

From Warner Springs I hiked solo into the desert, eventually dropping into a tiny town with a hiker friendly restaurant. Met Hunk (Canada) and Diesel (USA) there. We had burgers, milkshakes, and beer before deciding to camp there that night. In the morning I left alone. The fire detour route took an awful road walk (after walking on soft ground all day, pavement just jolts your spine), so I thumbed a ride from the first car I saw. He wasn't headed to my final destination so I had to hitch again, this time jumping into the back of a pickup with three other hikers including Diesel and Hunk. We stopped at a small store before deciding to press on into Idyllwild 5 miles away. In the morning, D proposed tagging San Jacinto peak (10,734') that day then descending back onto the PCT. This was a more aggressive plan than mine of walking around town and maybe catching a movie. We summitted in 4.5 hours with overnight packs, brisk. Met one dayhiker at the top, a Native American looking fellow with a wood hiking staff. Diesel, who has dealt with altitude sickness before, was relieved that we saw him too.

The next day we descended 7,000' to the desert floor. On the way, we cris-crossed a duo from New Zealand with Aarn packs. We dodged some incoming weather and caught some watermelon trail magic at the bottom. We figured out that Chik-fil-a is so good because the hate adds to the flavor. Yet another fire closure affected the trail, so we caught a hitch to the San Bernardino transit center and took a bus to Big Bear, bypassing about 60 miles of the PCT.

Big Bear was a big nero. Resupplied at Vons and hitched to mile 266 at 6 pm, hiking three miles before knocking out. Brian had the incredible find of watermelon Pop-tarts. Pop-tarts in the past were something I consumed at my lowest points, but they (and anything else you find in a vending machine) work well as trail foods. High calories, and flavors engineered to be non-sating. Anything crunchy stored in a pack becomes powder after a few days, which a hiker can easily funnel into their mouth. I do this, many hikers do too.

More trail names are showing up. Hustler, Socks, and Whiskey Bag have the best stories I've heard thus far. Whiskey Bag poured a pint of whiskey into a ziplock bag to save weight, which leaked all over her stuff when she put it in her pack. The others will go unmentioned for now.

Shoes

We are witness to a seismic shift in PCT footwear as almost everyone is either currently wearing or switching to Altra Lone Peaks. The store person in Idyllwild said they were selling twenty pairs of Altras for every pair of Brooks Cascadias (the thru-hiker shoe for many years). I've been wearing them since day 1 of the PCT and gotta say, they just make sense. The wide toe box makes a world of a difference, the gaiter Velcro patch is long overdue, and after 220 miles of hiking almost all of the lugs are intact. One hiker predicts that next year, every trail running shoe company will have their copycat shoe, which I think is likely. 

Days 7-8 mile 115 (4.3% of the trail)

Slow nero (near-zero mile) day. Hung out around Warner Spring and got my food sorted out for the trip to Idyllwild. Called a gear shop there to confirm they carry the shoe insoles and sunglasses I want. There's still a fire closure in effect on this part of the PCT. I'm taking the official detour, while some are hitching to skip it altogether. I'll probably try to hitch the road walk portion on CA 74, it sounds dangerous. Met a hiker at camp who was sending his doge home. His paws were burned after 100 miles of desert hiking. Limping. Got pizza at the golf resort grill (2/4 stars) and wrapped the rest in aluminum foil to take on the trail. At 5 pm I set off, walked 5 miles and camped next to a stream.

Really craving fresh, wet fruit. 

Day 6 mile 110 (4.2% of the trail)

So I walked through a brown field infested by grasshoppers. Having each step set off a storm of grasshoppers trying to latch onto your leg hair (sometimes successfully) is really unpleasant. I tried to block them with my umbrella, which kind of worked. They would tap against it and occasionally get in the concave side, and I'd frantically shake them off. One guy (Canada) said they kept hopping into his boots and getting squished. I'm ok with most insects, but the frequent skin contact was a terrible sensation.

Other than that, today was really hot. The trail came down off the crests onto the aforementioned fields. I'm at Warner Springs (tiny trail town), and there's a big welcome sign, "PCT Class of 2016" (thru-hiking culture definitely has a collegiate feel). I showered with a bucket of cold water and it was amazing. Kaleidoscope of tents pitched under a tree. Mostly American but also a few Euro brands. Tomorrow, I pick up my packages at the PO (tent, food) and set off for a 3.5-day walk to Idyllwild (favorite mountain town name). 14,000 calories of food are ready to go.

Day 4 mile 77 (2.9% of the trail)

Someone left candy canes in a hiker box (box of free stuff that hikers leave, at various establishments on the trail) and I'm eating one. I made it to Stagecoach Trails RV Resort after hitching a ride from a minivan with a Grateful Dead bumper sticker (Bill said I was #43 this season). Well, I'm the only hiker here today. Which means that the Christian convention people here gave me all of their leftover dinner and I ate around 1,500 calories in five minutes. One of the ministers here climbed Mt. Rainier (glaciated peak, requires mountaineering skills) when she was 21 in 1954. She was in a three person rope team with a guide, and one of only two women to summit that year. I mean climbing as a woman in the 1950s is just extraordinary, and she's the first climber I've knowingly met on the trail. It's windy but I'm just glad I'm not walking anymore.

For the trail, the desert is starting to feel like one. It was clear and warm today and the hills are mostly brown. I popped out the sun umbrella (weighs 7 oz) which helped, but it gets so windy that you have to stow it and use sunblock any way. The hikers are thinning out and I'm starting to wonder if I'll see the people I hiked with yesterday again.

On the gear front; man, I need those insoles. My legs feel fine but my soles are wrecked after 15 miles. I also buckled and called to have my inner tent shipped to me. I'm just not about that ultralight groundsheet lyfe. The tennis ball sized mosquitos flying inside were the last straw. Some hyperlighters (beyond ultralight backpacking) don't even use a groundsheet. The things that would crawl, run, or fly over your face at night; there are no words. My ¾ length sleeping pad is working really well and my down quilt is more than warm enough. The z-lite (popular foam sleeping pad that folds like an accordion) section I cut from my regular length z-lite pad has seen a lot of use. I sit on it every break and put my feet on it when I sleep. 

Day 5 mile 91 (3.4% of the trail)

Used my first and I hope, only, water cache. 30 gallons of Crystal Geyser dropped in the desert (Did they hoof it or use a wheelbarrow? Horseback?). It's 3 pm, in the 80s (deg F), and everyone is taking a break. Marijuana in the air. I'm 18 miles from Warner Springs and I'm just fine staying here for the night. It's 5 miles uphill then 13 mostly down. No reason to tackle it head-on in the heat when it'll be nice and cold in the morning. 

Day 3 mile 56 (2.1% of the trail)

A more eventful day. S (Netherlands) and I had talked about hiking together the previous night. We got up at 5:30 (easy when it's cold and wet) and drank tea with the unnamed couple (Japan). The sky was clearing and it was getting slightly warmer. We set off. In a couple hours we met up with his other hiking buddies, B and T (USA) and made it to Mt Laguna. The three of them spoke of taking an easy day at 10 miles, but my legs felt really good so I decided to press on for a 20 miler to mile 56. I also wanted to take advantage of the cooler weather at present. My feet ached (why did I neglect to buy SuperFeet blue insoles?) but I made it to camp at 6 pm.

This day's trail was spectacular. It dawned on me that the naming of the trail was specific; it really follows mountain crests most of the way. After topping out at Mt Laguna, it descends and traverses between several hills with wide views of the desert floor 4,000 feet below. I really like rugged cliffs with cracks and a lot of stuff going on, and there were a bunch of those. I knew the trail would be pretty, but right off the bat, wow. 

Day 2 mile 36 (1.4% of the trail)

More rain. My outer tent plus groundsheet ultralight shelter plan was a terrible idea. The groundsheet has pools of mud in it and I just have to put my sleeping pad and bag there because there's nothing I can do to dry it. I would need a beach towel or something. My down bag is hydrophobic and rated for much colder, so, to be safety focused, I am not at risk for hypothermia. Just being damp all the time. Ugh.

Warner Springs is 74 miles away, 3-4 days.   I'll take a zero mile day there. I cannot wait. I'll have to wash everything and I might send for my inner tent with its bathtub floor (this is a waterproof floor with walls that come up a few inches). El Niño could be here all summer. It's like a chilly rainforest down here. This is the Patagonia Crest Trail. 

Day 1 mile 18 (0.7% of the trail)

I vowed to take it easy on my first day, and I did. 18 miles in 7 hours, but I felt I could have gone an additional 7 miles or so. I'm camped just before Lake Morena which is the first town on the trail from the southern terminus. I won't have to pay for a campsite in town, and I can grab a "gigantic" (per Yogi) breakfast burrito in the morning.

One very interesting thing about the trail is the camping arrangement. A PCT permit gives permission to camp anywhere along the trail. Every half mile or so, you find a pocket or two carved out of the brush, usually big enough for one tent, either adjacent to the trail or down a short use path. It's pretty random, and fun to evaluate each site. Some are on rock slabs, some are next to sharp turns in the trail, some contain long abandoned gear from people who quit on day 1 (spooky).

Otherwise, not much noteworthy today. Weather was drizzly and cloudy, quite nice. Haven't witnessed any Cheryl-esque meltdowns thus far. Ran across hikers from the US, Western Europe, and Japan. 

Resupply

I put together six gear resupply packages before embarking on the trail. In no order:

• Gore-Tex gaiters
• Northern Terminus Package (passport, entry to Canada permit, car keys)
• Hiking pants (in case it gets cold, wet and my running shorts and long johns don't cut it)
• PNW Package (headnet, baseball cap, bug repellant - only as a package because I'm worried this bug season will be bad, and stores tend to run out of these things)
• Backpack hipbelt, size small (weight loss is expected)
• Kennedy Meadows Package (ice axe, bear canister, trekking pole, sundries)

I also made zero food resupply packages. I plan to resupply wholly from the trail, by buying in towns and shipping ahead as well as online ordering via Amazon Prime, Zero Day Resupply, and Sonora Pass Resupply. What a time to be alive.

On Gear

My gear list is pretty conventional, but I think some of the rationale is worth describing.

Shelter: TarpTent Moment DW

It's a pretty small shelter, just big enough to be "roomy" for one person. Advantages are that it is a true double wall, with ample space between the outer and inner tents for ventilation, and it pitches in a minute with two stakes. You unfurl the tent, insert the one pole, plant stakes, and it's up. From my longer camping trips, I've learned to appreciate easy setup/takedown with shelters. It gets old fast day after day, siting a tent with enough clear ground for each stake, repositioning them due to rocks, and tightening guylines. The Moment DW minimizes the fuss.

As a double wall tent, you can pitch the inner or outer tents separately. In the desert, I'll only be carrying the outer tent for rain and as an siesta shelter. North of there, I'll have the inner mesh tent as a bug screen. In fair weather I can pitch the inner tent alone with a clear view of the stars above me, though detaching the inner from the outer tent is a bit of a hassle.

I'm taking two titanium shepherd's hook stakes and two carbon stakes. The shepherd's hooks are easier to insert in dry, rocky soil, while the carbon stakes' thickness holds better in softer soil. I have two extra guylines attached to the tent, so I can use all four stakes in high winds.

Electronics

I figure I'll need enough power for my phone and headlamp to last between zero days, because on each zero day I can recharge everything in a motel. Per my research (Halfway Anywhere 2015 survey, and Yogi's guide), thru-hikers take zeros on average every 8 days, with a longer gap of 14 days for faster hikers. The frequency of zeros decreases through the hike as people adjust to the physical demands. I made a ballpark estimate that 13 days of power will be enough for me. Using a 6,700 mAh battery pack, a 2,850 mAh battery case for my phone (which will be in low power and airplane modes most of the time), and three extra AAA batteries for my headlamp I should have more than enough power. I might send home the extra AAA batteries after the desert as I will no longer be using the headlamp for night hiking. I'm not sure how much I will night hike as I will have a sun umbrella, but past experience has shown that I become miserable in high heat.

Going Lighter

I could spend more to buy lighter gear. This would mean more cuben fiber stuff, higher fill power down quilt, lighter ice axe and bear canister. I'd rather use stuff I already have though because I don't think the expense for optimized thru-hiking specific gear is justified. Compared to my current loadout, I'd have to spend $50-100 per ounce saved. The JMT hiker survey and personal experience suggest a low correlation between pack weight and hiking speed (except for record breakers e.g. Andrew Skurka), with a pound or two not making a large dent in daily mileage, so I'd mostly be spending to gain some subjective upper body comfort. I've found my pack pretty darn comfortable in past trips so I'll risk this. Pre-existing physical fitness seems to be a much larger factor in hiking speed.

I could also leave out some items, sacrificing some comfort in camp for hiking comfort. Going stoveless and ditching the silk sleeping bag liner are alternatives I'll be testing on the trail. I could also use disposable batteries instead of rechargeables, and a titanium cook pot instead of my aluminum one with a heat exchanger. Maximizing energy efficiency appeals to me though so I'll be bearing the extra ounces.

PCT: A Quick Overview

Here I attempt to distill what differentiates a PCT thru-hike from typical 1-5 night backpacking trips.

General

The 2,650-mile Pacific Crest Trail runs north-south through the states of Washington, Oregon, and California, touching the borders of Canada and Mexico. Most people complete it in 4.5-5 months, giving an average mileage somewhere around 18-20 miles/day. As of this writing, slightly more people have climbed Mt. Everest (4,093) than have thru-hiked the PCT (4,018).

North or South?

The vast majority (90% or more) of hikers tackle the PCT heading north (north-bound/NOBO). This is the less strenuous approach, as it starts in the flat desert of southern California before hitting the mountains of the Sierra Nevada and the Cascades. The elevation gain in this direction is about 490,000 ft, giving an average grade of 3.5% or 2°. While an average, this is much lower than the typical grade of hiking trails up to major peaks in the southern California Transverse Ranges, which I've found to be around 10%. Any training for the PCT should probably emphasize distance over elevation gain. The highest point is Forester Pass in the Sierra Nevada at 13,153 ft.

In the rest of this article, a northbound direction is assumed.

Timeframe & Weather

The usual timeframe for the trail is starting in late April and finishing in August. This is due to weather. A spring-summer hike avoids most of the snow in the Sierra Nevada and the Cascades, which can transform an extended wilderneress walk into treacherous, technical mountaineering (only two people have completed the PCT in winter). The temperature range across the entire trail during this time, ignoring windchill, appears to be around 25-95 °F. Precipitation is generally infrequent due to mild Pacific weather, but snow and rain have occurred in every section of the trail (including the desert ones) and rain gear is always carried.

Food Resupply

Resupply is done in towns and post offices along the trail, about every 3-5 days. Generally you must hitch-hike in and out of these places, which is safe and easy (drivers are accustomed to thru-hikers). If a resupply point has a post office but no store, hikers will mail packages to said point by addressing them for general delivery. Many other commercial venues (some lodging, stores) will also receive and hold packages for hikers for a small fee. For any package pickup, it's important to confirm operating hours of the venue and to try to arrive there on time. More recently, some hikers have used Amazon Prime to reduce dependence on whatever is in-stock in a given town.

The hike is often described as a series of 3-5 day trips, and planning is usually only done for the next few days at a time. Day-by-day resupply planning months in advance is unnecessary, and probably futile. A resupply person off-trail is helpful but not necessary (international thru-hikers usually avoid it due to shipping costs).

Water

The only portions requiring special attention is the desert. Water reports must be consulted. Most people treat their water with a Sawyer filter; Aquamira drops are also popular. The desert and Oregon parts of the trail are known for turbid standing water.

Gear

Gear on the PCT is generally standard 3-season ultralight backpacking gear. The typical PCT outfit might be a ULA Circuit backpack, Brooks Cascadia shoes, and a TarpTent ProTrail shelter. Better-heeled hikers go for cuben fiber gear, notably from Zpacks and Hyperlite Mountain Gear.

You must like your gear enough to use it for 100+ (mostly) consecutive nights. This is a lot of use; many non-thru-hiking backpackers will not spend this many nights in the backcountry in their entire lives. Extra attention paid to reducing weight is warranted given the length of this trip, as a small excess encumbrance may accumulate a large cost as the miles reach into the hundreds. One might also consider placing extra importance on usability of gear. A cramped tent or temperamental water filter could be maddening on day 68 on the trail.

PCT-Specific Gear (Stuff Thru-hikers Like)

A few items have a disproportionate presence on the PCT. Short running gaiters, particularly Dirty Girl, keep pebbles out of shoes and prevent blisters. Lightweight trekking umbrellas reduce dehydration in the desert, substantially increase hiking comfort, and block precipitation in the northern parts of the trail. Some type of rechargeable battery pack is often used with electronics. These seem to work out better than solar panels, which are among the most frequently discarded items. SmartWater bottles are preferred over Nalgenes, weighing several ounces less as well as having threads compatible with the screw-in Sawyer filters.

Gear changes

As the biome changes, hikers switch out various pieces of gear. Many carry an ice axe when entering the Sierra Nevada, and a bear canister (required by law). Some ditch the umbrella after the desert, others keep it for precipitation in the northern part of the trail. Warm clothing is usually sent home after the Sierra Nevada.

Resources

The most popular PCT references are Yogi's PCT Handbook, Halfmile's maps, the PCT Water Report, and Craig's PCT Planner. Yogi's is part an intro to backpacking, and part a guide to resupplying in the towns along on the trail. It contains little narrative information about the trail itself.