Wouldn't it be nice if we all had crystal balls that would allow us to make our decisions based on hindsight? So many mistakes we could have avoided. So many choices that we could have made differently. Though I still haven't found the amazing tool to see into the future, I do have a unique opportunity before me now. After hiking over 1800 miles on the PCT, I ended up exiting due to fires and trail closures. When I go back to finish the remaining 800 miles, I'll be doing so seeing through the perspective of experience. And there are many things I will change: 

1) I WILL NOT STRESS OVER MY BASE WEIGHT

While preparing for my 2015 hike, I spent a lot of time on web forums and hiking groups, gathering information and advice. One of the biggest recurring themes was "You MUST be ultra-lightweight or you will NOT finish". People posted spread sheets of their gear with weights to the tenth of an ounce. Other people ripped their gear choices apart. There were endless debates over the pros and cons of two tents that had a 2 ounce difference between them.

Though I had lots of outdoor experience under my belt (including a thru-hike of the AT), I began to question my gear selections. Prior to the hike, I changed out my free standing tent for a lightweight. I left my air pad at home and brought a scaled down closed foam pad. I bought trail runners. I went stove-less.

In Kennedy Meadows, I joyfully ripped open my box with all my old gear that I had mailed from back home. Sure, maybe I was carrying 2-3 pounds more, but I was more comfortable. I slept better. I ate better. My feet were happy. 

Base weight is just one factor in many that will affect your success in a thru-hike. For some, it may be the most important factor. For others, (including myself) other things are more important. I won't again make the mistake of putting other's opinions of gear ahead of my own personal gear preferences.

2) I WILL FILTER WATER FROM ALL SPIGOTS

You know how everybody gets sick in the winter, when we spend more time inside? I have found that on the trail, we all get sick in towns. Or campgrounds. 

My biggest setback on the hike was when I contracted noro-virus. (No, I didn't have it officially diagnosed at a medical clinic. I've had noro-virus before, though. This was definitely it!) I got sick, not out in the wilderness where water is scarce and the sources are sketchy, but right after the Kennedy Meadows campground where I had stayed for a few days awaiting my beloved gear package.

The campground had ONE water spigot for everyone to use. Though I was always diligent about washing my hands prior to using the spigot, I cannot vouch for the other hikers there. (Especially since there was beer. Lots and lots of beer) The day after leaving the campground, I got sick.

 I cannot be responsible for other's hygiene practices, but I can filter my water. Which I do now, religiously. Plus, my definition of a "sketchy" water source has changed significantly.

3) I WILL NOT TRY TO POST DAILY ENTRIES ON THE BLOG

On my previous thru hike, I had started the practice of blogging for family and friends at home to follow the hike. Basically, I posted my (cleaned up) journal entries when I got into towns so that those at home got a good sense of where I was and what a thru hike was like. I assumed I'd do the same on the PCT.

Two big obstacles were in my way: the blog platform changed so I had more of a challenge blogging from a phone. More importantly, both cell coverage and wi-fi were in short supply.

There is nothing more frustrating than spending 40 minutes typing a perfectly worded blog post with your thumbs only to see an endlessly spinning circle as your post does not load. 

This time around, I'm not going to try to post daily entries. Instead, I'm going to do more photo dumps with short synopses of the hike. The PCT is more suited to that, anyway. The scenery is breathtaking!

4) I WILL BRING AN IPOD

I generally do not listen to music when I hike. I prefer to listen to the birds, the animals, the wind in the trees. I find it more relaxing and invigorating.

There were some very long, tedious stretches on the PCT, especially in the desert sections. Long, treeless exposed sections where the sun beats down and the birds disappear and the little creatures take cover. Where there is nothing to break up the silence, other than the occasional buzzing-drone of a grasshopper. That's when you really need some music. 

Since I generally don't listen to music, and since I was trying to cut down weight, I had decided to put all my music on my phone on the off-chance I needed it. So the good news is, I did have something to get me through the monotonous stretches. The bad news is, listening to music on the phone sucks down the battery pretty quick. Music also takes up a lot of storage space. So I found myself charging with the external charger and praying I made it to town before the battery died. Plus, I was spending valuable town-time removing things from my phone to have enough space for my maps, my apps, my pictures, and my music. (People with Andriods may not have this problem)

The bottom line is, an iPod weights just a few ounces and is well worth it to save the phone battery, free up storage space, and listen to the Red Hot Chilli Peppers in the Mojave. 

5) I WILL STAY OFF OF WEB FORUMS IN TOWN

In the months before the PCT, I found the various web-forums and hiking groups to be a valuable source of information and encouragement as I prepared for the hike. On trail, I figured that these groups would be helpful for finding out about trail closures and conditions, fire updates, recommendations for lodging and food in upcoming towns, etc. I was correct in this assumption, to a degree. 

There is one big problem with any internet based group: trolls. Even outdoorsy groups attract those angry, disillusioned souls who strive to make everybody else's day as miserable as their own. Fortunately, the percentage of trolls to kind-hearted helpful people is pretty low.

That percentage changes drastically once hiking season begins.

After late April, the vast majority of hikers are -- well -- hiking. Which leaves the internet to the trolls. It seems that every time I jumped on the internet to check trail conditions or get town recommendations, I was accosted by angry, rants about "entitled hikers" or stories about how much harder hiking was in the early 1970's. I wanted to check about fire closures, I was lambasted for using a Half Mile app. I wanted to see if a storm had knocked down trees in a section of trail, I was accused of being a pansy-ass.

It was very disheartening and it put me in a bad mood.

Finally, I figured out that PCTA.org had all the updates I needed without the angry rants.  Plus, I went back to good, old fashioned recommendations from locals for accommodations. I was much happier for it.

6) I WILL BRING A SELFIE-STICK

Before this hike, I would have looked at a display of selfie sticks and disdainfully thought "Who the hell needs a selfie stick?" Now I know. I need a selfie stick. 

On the AT, I never had a problem finding somebody to take my picture. We tended to hike together in packs, helping one another up and down steep sections and rock scrambles. I was never alone on the AT.

The PCT is a different trail. It is more gently graded. Daily miles are longer. It is more well suited to hiking alone. And though I did have bubbles of hikers who I would hike with, I had longer and more frequent periods by myself. The PCT provides ample opportunities for solitude.

While that may be wonderful for self reflection, it is downright horrible for taking pictures. Especially when you have short arms, like I do. The pictures you imagined would have YOU with a beautiful scenic background in reality have YOU with a view right up your nostrils and no background whatsoever. 

Next time, I'm bringing a damn selfie stick!

                                                 (there are lots of tourists to help with pictures in Crater Lake)

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 ​8) I WILL SLOW DOWN

Hiking is not a competitive sport. It's more like a collaborative effort. Unless you are trying to set the record for fastest thru-hike (something I have no chance in hell of ever doing) there is no need to rush. And yet, when I'm on the trail, I always have a sense of urgency in the back of my mind. "Have to get my 20 miles in, have to get my 20 miles in."   "I should be doing 25-30 miles a day by now!"   "OK, that's a long enough break. Gotta get those miles in."   Sometimes my brain on trail is a little like a drill sergeant. 

Seriously, what would happen if I hiked 18 miles rather than 20? Or decided 25 miles was plenty instead of pushing for 30? Or if I decided to spend and entire afternoon by a lake? What would happen? I'd spend a half day less in town. Or I'd finish a week later than I had planned. 

We go out into the wilderness to get away from the pressures and competitiveness of society. Yet its far too easy to fall into that trap of rushing from town to town, trying to stay on an itinerary, or trying to keep up with that group of speed hikers. 

This is something I struggle with. It's something I'll try to be be more mindful of next time around. 

9) I WILL BRING A SPOT

Until now, I have resisted the urge to bring a SPOT. Partially because I'm not an entitled pansy-ass, but mainly because it just seemed like one more unnecessary thing to carry. It always seemed much smarter to do my best to avoid dangerous situations than to be more reckless while carrying and SOS device. Plus, for the friends and family at home who wished to have a pre-determined itinerary of where I'd be at all times on my hike, I thought it would do them some good  to have a little uncertainty in their lives. 

But the PCT has limited cell coverage. I'd go for long stretches of time without a way to check in with folks back home. As a result, there were a few times when I spent entire town visits talking people down from figurative ledges and explaining over and over how cell phone coverage is not universal, no matter what the map at Verizon shows. 

Next time around, I'll carry a device that allows friends and family to track my progress online. They'll have a little peace of mind, and I'll be able to spend my town time drinking beer. 

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10) I WILL TAKE MORE SIDE TRAILS

Thru-hiking tends to make you single minded. Each mile hiked should be a mile that gets you closer to your destination. Gotta get those miles in!

Then you notice how much the PCT meanders. How many switchbacks there are. How the trail seems to go so very close to water, and then veer away.  It can become frustrating.

There is a wonderful solution to this frustration: side trails. Both Half Mile and Gut Hook list many side trails in their apps, and once I started venturing down the side trails, I never looked back! 

Most of the side trails I took were the same milage as staying on the PCT. They tended to be a little steeper, but also passed more water sources. And it's on the side trails that I saw steam vents, boiling springs, and even Crater Lake! (The official PCT does not actually go to the rim of the lake, though I have yet to meet a single person who did not take the Rim Trail. That one's a no-brainer) The passes I took to towns in the Sierra contained some of the most beautiful scenery of the whole trip, though not on the official PCT. The Sky Lakes Alternate trail was positively breathtaking. 

In hiking, and in life, it's the detours that are sometimes the most memorable. Next year on the PCT, I plan to take every side trail I can! 

August 13-14: Although Klamath Falls is significantly bigger than some of the other towns I had hiked through -- Etna, Seiad Valley, Burney Falls, -- it still wasn't bursting with things to do. Not that I expected to be in town long. Klamath Falls had a train station. My purpose here was to get a ticket to Bend or Sisters, detour around the fire, and get back hiking again. Once again, my plans took a different turn. 

When I think of a train station, I picture something like the commuter rail or the Amtrak Station from Providence to New York or Washington DC or the Euro-rail. What I don't picture is something like the train station in Klamath Falls. This train station had two (2!!) trains per day. The northbound train left at 6:30 am. The southbound train left at 10:30pm. And that was it for the trains in Klamath Falls. No bustling waiting area filled with students and people in business attire. No dreadlocked hippies playing guitar for money by the vending machines. No security personnel with bomb sniffing dogs wandering around. Heck, the train station closed down from 12pm to 6 pm. And since I had stupidly slept in, I had missed the only northbound train. I would have to spend the entire day in Klamath Falls.

And yes, there were a couple nice little cafes to eat at, and a movie theater, and a couple pubs near the university. However, when you are in a town whose chief industry is harvesting blue-green algae from Klamath Lake for health food stores, your options are bound to be limited. 

I was at one of the little cafes when I started to notice many other hikers coming into town- hitch-hiking down from Crater Lake with the same plan as I had: take a train north around the fire and get back on the trail. A few of us started making plans: we should book a motel in Bend now, so we can get our resupply and secure a ride back to the trail without worrying about finding lodging. (No go. Bend was having a micro-brew fest and all the lodging had sold out months in advance) Well, we could just try to get a ride without staying in Bend at all. (By all accounts on the Facebook PCT group, rides were kind of hard to secure from bend to the trail) Maybe we could go further north, to Portland, hike south through Oregon, then flip flop back to Washington. Or maybe go north through Washington and flip flop back to Oregon. 

And then somebody checked to PCT website for fire closures. The Crater Lake fire was the least of our worries. There were fires in Central Oregon, in Northern Oregon, in Southern , Central, and Northern Washington. A firefighter had gotten killed the day before in Washington. There were trail closures with 50 mile road walks to detour the closed sections. Fifty mile road walks on roads that were closed to cars. 

It didn't really want to do road walks. I've done lots of miles on roads in my life-- usually in 26.2 increments. They are called marathons and they are fun and all, but not why I came out to the PCT in the first place. I really wanted to walk the trail and see the views and experience nature, not clomp along on asphalt. 

So many options were swimming around in my head. I could wait it out somewhere in a campground for 2 weeks to see if the situation got any better. I could go back up to Crater Lake and take my chances. Or.... I could finish this next year, when the fires were out. 

I went back to the train station and bought a ticket for the southbound train at 10:30 pm.

The conclusion of this adventure would have to wait. 

I flew home out of San Francisco.

Until the next adventure....Peace, Love, and Trail Magic!

August 11-12: Of all the places on the PCT, I was most excited about Crater Lake. I mean, yes, of course the Sierras. They are startlingly beautiful. I had done quite a bit of hiking in the Sierras previously, when I lived in California. But Crater Lake, I had never seen. I tried to go to Crater Lake a long time ago, on a road trip with friends through Oregon. But the road to Crater Lake had been snowed in and we didn't make it. I could not wait to see Crater Lake!

I awoke early to bust out the last 6 miles to Crater Lake. I could get in early, pick up my package, and have a hot breakfast in the restaurant before doing some sightseeing! Those miles went quickly and easily. And once again, through a burn area. Little did I know, there would be more burn areas around Crater Lake before the end of the summer.

Once in the visitor's camping area, things didn't go quite as quickly and easily. The general store was backed up and couldn't get packages for at least 2 hours. The restaurant was backed up -- they were overwhelmed by the large group of Warrior Hikers -- and also had a long wait, for both tables and food. I killed the wait time by standing next to the table of Warrior Hikers and comparing hiking tales. (My favorite Warrior Hiker of all, Mama Goose, had already moved on from the lake. But I did get to talk with Thunder Bunny!) After breakfast-- now brunch -- the store was still having difficulty with the packages, so I showered and found a camp spot. Finally, once I got my package, I was all set to head up to the visitor's center and the lake. Unfortunately, the last shuttle (at 11 am!) had left. So I walked up the trail (so much easier without a pack) and figured I'd get a ride back on the last return shuttle (3 pm).

So finally, I got to lay eyes on Crater Lake. And just as the south bound hikers had promised, it was even more beautiful than the pictures! 

The lake is actually a crater of a volcano that had imploded in upon itself. The island in the middle-- is another cinder cone that grew back out of the crater. And the water was so, so blue! The only place I've ever seen blue so striking would be the Caribbean. But Crater Lake is a deeper blue than the Caribbean. Slightly less green. 

I went to the museum to learn all about how the lake was formed. I went to the visitors center to get post-cards for the kids (and lets me honest, to get my Dr Pepper and ice creak cookie sandwich). And I also go the fire report. It seems there were fires burning all along the trail just north of Crater Lake. And near the Oregon Washington border. And in central Washington. And northern Washington. Fires all over. What's more, at the Crater Lake visitor's center, you could smell smoke. 

Back at the campground, it was hiker central. Many more hikers had arrived while I was up at the lake, quite a few had turned back after attempting to hike out. I talked to Cookie Monster and Morning Star, who had hiked into some pretty thick smoke and turned back. They were hoping the wind would change directions the next day and allow for more comfortable hiking. The trail itself was still open. 

A bunch of us ate dinner at the restaurant, and then built a camp fire at the sites. It was one of the only campfires that we actually had on the trail, because of the dry conditions this year. Some of the RV campers brought over Smore's fixings and we made some s'mores, reclined on the picnic table, and watched the Perseid meteor shower. And then we all retired to our tents at the unheard of late hour of 9:30 pm.

The next day, I zeroed at the lake and took a tour of the lake. Well worth the time to tour! The lake was fantastic, and I was a bit of a minor celebrity on the bus, being a crazy thru-hiker and all! 

The tour allowed not only wonderful views of the lake, but also views of the smoke. It was getting very thick. 

The fires were about 17 miles away -- but even from that distance, you could smell them. And the smoke was sort of stinging the eyes from that distance, too. There was news of lake resort closures north of us. But the trail was still open.  After much though, I decided that I did not want to hike into all of that smoke.  After the tours were over for the day, the shuttle went down to Klamath Falls, and would give rides to town. I decided that I'd head to Klamath Falls, get a train in the morning, and to north past the fire to Bend or Sisters to continue the hike. 

Peace, Love, and Trail Magic!

August 10: After a short day filled with lots of eating yesterday, my plan for today was to start hiking early, hike fast and long and late to make it into Crater Lake by night. I almost pulled it off.

I had gone to sleep the night before to the sound of coyotes going out to hunt; I woke up to the sound of coyotes returning from a hunt. I rather like the sound of coyotes-- when it's not the sound of coyotes surrounding the neighbor's cat. (That's horrible. An auditory memory I will never get out of my head.) But out in the backcountry, it makes me smile. I enjoy hearing the sound of the pack, moving together like a team for a common purpose. Coyotes are like people, that way.

It's always a little chilly when you get up before sunrise. I like to get up at that time, quickly break down camp and get moving. It makes for easy miles in the cool air. And since I was in Oregon now, I was back in trees. Lots of people complain about hiking in trees-- they prefer the high desert of high alpine regions where there are exposed views that go on forever. I like the views, too. But there is definitely a different energy in the trees that I like. I find the forest very welcoming and safe. And this is how I hiked this morning, in a calm and welcoming embrace.

As always on this trail, though, there were SOME exposed ridge lines, so I did get some nice views as the sun came up.

I had been seeing south-bounders for a few weeks, now, and today I saw LOTS of them. Happy south-bound hikers emerging from a rest in Crater Lake. It made me even more excited to get there. Eyes glowing, they all said the same thing: "It's even more beautiful than the pictures."

The other thing you always hit on the PCT are burn areas. Long stretches of blackened tree trunks with curled up branches in a gray and black landscape. It's like hiking through a Tim Burton film. And we hit a few today. Its amazing, too, how you can tell how hot the fire burned by the trees. Slower burning, cooler fires have blackened trunks, but sometimes intact branches and the brush is starting to come back in patches along the ground. Sometimes there are blackened trunks and limbs, but evidence of seedling sprouting up here and there. And then there are vast wastelands with nothing but ash. These are the trees with the curled up limbs. These are the areas that will need to be reseeded in a forest restoration project. I walked through all these types of burns today.
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And so it went. Walking, resting, eating. Forest, ridgeline, burn. Walking, resting, eating. Forest ridgeline, burn. Talk to south-bounder. Walk, rest, eat. I was all set to get to Crater Lake.

And then, I just couldn't walk any more. Sometimes that happens. Your legs feel like jello, your trunk feels like lead. (And everybody knows that jello cannot support lead) So with a mere 6 miles to Crater Lake, I set up camp in a small, flat clearing, and rested my jello legs for the night. Crater Lake would have to wait one more day.

Peace, love, and trail magic

August 9: The only thing better than trail magic is...more trail magic? And the only thing better than that is-- a hot yummy breakfast in a cafe followed by trail magic and then more trail magic. That's what today was like. I had a wonderfully decadent morning where I slept in until the unheard of hour of 6:30, took a completely unneeded but lovely morning shower, and then went back and lazily packed up my camp. 

And I relearned, first hand, that the only thing grosser than mice is... nothing. Mice are disgusting. Mice had chewed up a cotton shirt I had washed out in the sink the night before and hung on a line to dry. Seriously? Why the hell chew up a t-shirt? I'm just glad I had an animal proof food bag!

Anyway, not one to let some pesky rodents ruin my otherwise wonderful morning, I headed to the grill to eat a huge breakfast. And then have a milkshake. And talk to some section hikers. And a thru-hiker who had gotten off trail for a few days and was just getting back on. And the owner of the resort. And, well, you get the point. I didn't end up getting back on the trail until about noon.

Back on trail, at the next road crossing, I came across a few coolers with drinks and cookies and snickers bars. I really had no need for more snacks, but I did partake in a soda and headed out with a few hikers I hadn't seen before. I got the low-down that Nick had gotten a later start out of Ashland than he had planned and that Zack was falling further behind by the day. Looks like I was hiking the rest of this baby on my own!

Shortly later, I ran back into Cookie Monster and Morning Star, a couple of familiar and friendly faces. They were hanging out at a little clearing partaking in some TRAIL MAGIC!

A really nice couple had hiked four miles up from the road with a grill, some hamburgers and hotdogs, and sodas. I hung out for a while. But I didn't really need any trail magic. I had eaten that huge breakfast. But somehow, they all convinced me to eat a cheese burger! 

Somehow, despite not getting started until noon, and then stopping for a couple hours, I managed to get 18 miles in today. I camped in a beautiful spot in a learning of trees, listening to the coyotes howl all night long.

August 8:  While prepping for the PCT, I visited a lot of internet groups, read a bunch of guides, talked to people in Facebook groups. All this information lead me to believe that the PCT is very remote-- I'd go really long distances between towns. I'd have to carry 7-10 days worth of food at a time because there was no place to resupply. Maybe that is true for northern Oregon and Washington (I'll find out next year). But so far, this could not be further from the truth. I found that I was passing through towns, campgrounds, and resorts every 2-4 days. And though the towns were small (and sometimes creepy in a Stephen King kind of way) they were plentiful. I was able to stop and get supplies quite often.

And so it was for today-- my goal was to make it to Fish Lake Resort, a nice lakeside resort located a short 2 mile side trail from the PCT. Reports from other hikers is that it was beautiful There was a friendly staff, hot food, showers, and a nice recreational lake. Getting there would require a 32 mile day (plus 2 miles on the side trail). But I figured that if I couldn't make it, I'd just pitch my tent and set up camp where ever I ended up.  Silly me. The trail wasn't gonna let me have that option.

The good news is that it was once again a clear and beautiful day for hiking. We passed quite a few road with trail heads and as a result, quite a few day hikers out for a short hike. Once again, we were heading into forested areas, so there was more shade and tree cover. All the ingredients for a good hike.

This section also had a shelter. Shelters are everywhere on the AT, but only a couple exist on the PCT, so it was a bit of a novelty. Barista and Gigi, two of the hikers I had camped with the night before, were aiming for the shelter for their end point. (That would be a 25 mile day) I considered this, as well. There was a picnic table, a water pump, and lots of flat space around the shelter. But the shelter itself was very uninviting. It was actually more of a warming hut, as there were lots of cross country ski trails in this area, as well. It was small and cramped, with plastic stripping across the entrance to keep the heat in. I can see how this would be great in the winter (it even had a wood stove), but in August with the sun beating down, it was quite uncomfortable. Since it was still fairly early, I decided to press on.

Shortly after the shelter, the terrain changed dramatically. The trail went from a dirt and pine needle path through the woods to a rocky trail through lava fields. My idea that I could just camp anywhere now seemed quite ill-conceived! I was either making it to Fish Lake Resort tonite or....well, there was no other option. I was making it to Fish Lake Resort tonight. 

I made it to the resort at 7:55 pm. the store a grill closed at 8. I figured I'd go in and get my usual Dr Pepper and ice cream cookie sandwich and hit up the grill in the morning for breakfast. But the people saw a thru-hiker and kept the place open to make me a hot dinner! How nice was that? I ate chicken fingers and fries with a couple section hikers with a dog and we walked around the lake to the free thru-hiker camp spot. And I took advantage of the bathroom to shower and wash my stinky hiking clothes in the sink.

So thumbs up to Fish Lake Resort! The only downside? The lake was so low and the algae count so high that there was no swimming. (well, I guess you could swim if you really wanted to, but you'd end up looking like the swamp thing) So I declined. S'ok. Hot showers and  a hot dinner are good enough.

August 7: On my way into Ashland, I lost:  (1) a pair of socks--- which were gone, gone, gone, (2) a bandana -- which I replaced at the outfitter, (3) a hat -- which I replaced at the hat store, and (4) my knife -- which was miraculously returned to me outside the grocery store by another hiker (Toolbox). On my way out of Ashland, I almost lost my poles!

I got a ride outside of a convenience store right next to the on-ramp to the interstate. About 1/8 of a mile down the hi way, I realized I left my poles on the sidewalk. The couple who picked me up were nice (and patient) enough to wait in the breakdown lane for me to run back up the hill to the store and retrieve my poles. Talk about trail angels! Luckily for me, that was the end of my forgetful phase.

Back on the trail, I was once again, leapfrogging with other hikers through some pretty easy terrain. Once again, the smell of smoke was in the air and the views were hazy at best. 

Since I was full from so much good food, and since the terrain was pretty do-able, I decided 20 miles was reasonable (even though I didn't get hiking until 11:15. Unfortunately for me, at the campsites at the 20 mile mark, I was in for an unpleasant surprise. 

A guy who was car-camping had spread all his stuff out, including taking the back seat out of his mini-van and was taking up 6 tent sites. He had milk crates full of junk, lounge chairs, a fold up table, a clothes line between trees, a gigantic 6 man Coleman tent, and lots of "tools" strewn about. All for just one person. Of course, after months of carrying everything you need on your back, this just seemed a bit excessive. Reminds me a lot of how it is when you get back from the trail to the "real" (fake) world. We all surround ourselves with so much stuff that we don't  really need. We have TVs and radios and cable news on all the time, filling our head with junk we don't need, as well. On look at this campsite, and I knew I needed to keep moving. It was all just so overwhelming and unnecessary.

Two and a half miles later, a nice flat area slightly smaller than the one I had just passed up, 7 of us thru-hikers comfortably spent the night. Plus, there was a water source close by, so it was the better choice anyway!

​Peace, Love, and trail magic! 

August 5-6: In a work, Ashland was fantastic! Like most college towns, Ashland had great food and beer for cheap. It had a full service outfitter, a running store, and more restaurants than I could even handle! Thai? Check! Indian? Check! Deli? Check! Italian? Check! Good pub food? Check! Plus, Ashland has a Shakespeare Festival. Originally, we had planned on maybe taking in a play. But after going to the shoe store (for Nick to get new shoes) and the hat store (for me to replace the sun hat I lost at a water source) and the outfitters (for repairs and replacements) and the grocery store to resupply, and the post office (to mail resupplies ahead) and the UPS store (for resupply to places where USPS doesn't go) and eating and drinking beer, well, there just wasn't enough time! 

Zero days are like that. Sometimes people at home have an idea that days in town are spent lounging around, but they are more like weekends at home, when you are running from one place to another getting all the weekly errands done. 

We did catch a little of Jon Stewart's last show, though.

Though we had planned on hiking along in tandem, some more, Nick ended up staying in town another 1/2 day to catch up with some friends who happened to be in Ashland. And so it is. 

After Ashland, I hit the trail, once again solo.

August 3-5: After retrieving our mail at Seiad Valley, a small handful of hikers and I made the decision to head back to the trail...later. Mail came at 2 pm in this little town, the height of the afternoon heat. So again, we lounged in the shade, had yet another delicious milk shake from the cafe, and charged the electronics until 7 pm, when the heat was starting to dissipate.

We started out with a 2 mile road walk to the trail head. And then we climbed. We climbed into layers and layers of smoke from distant fires. On top of which, we were climbing through an old burned out section with blackened trunks of dead trees and the beginnings of new bushes and saplings starting to emerge from below. It was unclear whether the smoky scent was from the earth or the air. Luckily, water was plentiful, so we didn't have to carry a heavy load through all of this smoke.

The campsites in this area were depressingly small - one or two tents at most. So our little band separated as fatigue set in and we each had our own little sleeping quarters at intervals down the burned out section of trail.

In the morning, I began an unfortunate habit where I continuously lost things along this section of trail. I had put my socks over a rock to dry out in the night. But in the morning, as I was getting my croc for the morning bathroom break, I noticed a large brown spider on my trail shoes. "A brown recluse!" was the prevailing thought in my head for the next 45 min to hour as I dressed, ate, broke down my campsite, and packed up. So preoccupied was I with avoiding a spider that may or may not have been a brown recluse, that my socks stayed behind, forgotten on a rock by the Darkley Creek Trail junction.

Mid-morning, I caught up with a few hikers who had left the morning before,while I was waiting for mail. They had headed out in the early morning cool air only to be stopped at a road junction 12 miles in, while wilderness firefighters battled a number of small blazes. The fires were contained and mostly out when I passed through, waving and thanking the firefighters along the way.

Shortly thereafter, I passed Toolbox, who had left with Nick the previous morning. Toolbox looked awful. He had holed up in a shady spot by a spring to rest the day away. I got some water for the spring for him. as he was afraid he would contaminate the water source. I offered to walk back to the road crossing with him, to see if he could get a ride back into town, but he just wanted to stay put. So I unloaded my supply of GI distress medication for him,and continued on the way. It seems we all were getting hit with that bug eventually on this hike!

More miles, more smoke. No views. 

But that was okay, because I got something better than scenic views on this particular day:

Yes- finally ! After three months of hiking, I finally hit a state line! Unlike the AT, where there are 13 state lines to cross (and the Mason-Dixon line) the PCT has three measily borders and three gigantic states. Nearly two thirds of the way along, I had hit my first state crossing. I've never been so happy to hit a state line in my life!

I jumped up and down a bit. I did a little dance. I ate a celebratory cliff bar. I took a selfie.

And then I walked on, because there were no good camping spots at the state line.

True to its reputation, Oregon rained on me the first night in. Fortunately, I was already inside my tent when it started. Even more fortunate for me, the rainstorm was short, and the tent was dry the next morning so I wasn't stuck carrying a wet tent!

Around 8 am, I caught up with Nick, again, my hiking buddy from before. We continued to leap frog back and forth as we neared our next big stop: Ashland. We passed through a few state parks and recreation areas and I started liking Oregon even more: every person we passed smiled and said "Congratulation! Welcome to Oregon!"  And about half gave us food- granola bars, apples, fun sized candy bars. If possible, I was even happier than I was at the border.

As we neared the Interstate, things started looking eerily familiar-- like I had been here before even though I clearly had not. Then Nick started telling me that a friendly Oregonian he passed earlier in the day told him that the movie Stand By Me had been filmed here. I burst into a rousing rendition of "Have Gun, Will Travel", but Nick had absolutely no idea what the hell I was singing about. Bummer. And we didn't see that railroad trestle. Double bummer.

​Oh, well. On to Ashland!