What did I get myself into...

Un-American Long Distance Travel Options (Guest Essay by Hal)

2007-08-20T09:38:00.000-07:00

I recently (Aug 4, I believe) joined up with Bear Bait for some high quality adventuring. The plan was to party it up at Reggae Risin’ for a few days, cook a bunch of food to earn our keep (just like the old days at the Coop), somehow get to Crater Lake, and then spend a week hiking. I was super excited, as I’d just finished up a summer geology course, and was aching for summer freedom.

Between Aug 1st and Aug 14th, I went from Billings to Seattle to Salem to Eureka to Crater Lake to Ashland back to Salem and then Seattle. I traveled by Greyhound, by car, by hitching, by hiking, and then by bus and then Amtrak back home to Seattle. In the process, I saw a good deal of our huge country, and folks from all walks of life. Along the way, I took an interest in how my method of transportation influenced my experiences.

I have always seen America as a country defined by cars. Anywhere you go, the infrastructure is designed primarily for cars. Take a look at how much physical space in any town is devoted to parking lots, especially the suburbs. Cars are our most obvious social status symbol. Sports cars, SUV’s, big ass ‘merican pickups, its all about the biggest and the best. So what does it say when a person is traveling by some other means?

From my experiences, I saw time and again that I was at a serious disadvantage, because I could not control how I moved from point A to point B. Going on the bus was an excellent lesson in just how inept a company with no competition can be. I took three Greyhound buses. The first broke down outside of Missoula, causing us to wait for three hours until a replacement showed up. The 2nd bus was just an hour late. The 3rd broke down before it ever got to the station (Medford, OR), so we had to wait three hours until the next regularly scheduled bus came through. The chicken buses of Latin America, ancient American school buses in actuality, perform far better. At each delay, people vented their frustrations in futile protest, as they had absolutely no control over when they would arrive at their destination.

The bus at least has a schedule. We hitched from the Reggae fest to Crater Lake, a little over 260 miles. This took us two and a half days, with a total travel time of roughly 28 hours on the road or roadside, for a Hitched MPH of less than 10 hmph. To say the least, we had no control over our travel. We were relying solely on the generosity and trust of strangers, although we did smile a lot to fool them. Standing on the side of a road, for hours and hours and hours (six in a row at one point), we understood just how frustrating it is to be powerless over our transportation.

There is another interesting aspect of power that goes with driving a car. Cars are just little mobile homes, and as a result we associate them with privacy. Just look over to the car next to you on the highway, and watch the person pick their nose, or smoke a bowl, or give road-head. You see what I mean? Privacy is the first thing you sacrifice when you go with any sort of public transportation. I have to behave as inoffensively as possible, which means no burping, farting or masturbating, and so does everyone else on the bus. Except for the obnoxiously frisky couple in the seat in front of me on the Billings Greyhound. So much giggling…

But from my point of view, that’s just the point. I have no power to prevent such obnoxious behavior, just like I can’t prevent the person behind me from shouting into their cell phone about how their ex-husband is fucking them over until, mercifully, the battery runs out. Taking the bus forces me to deal with the unpleasantness of the rest of the world. Hitching forces me to lose all control over how I will get to my destination. Well shucks, I think I want to go buy a car.

So here’s my shocking conclusion. Not having a car is a huge disadvantage in America. This means that anyone who can get one will. The only folks who don’t have one are the low income, or the very highly principled autophobes. And that is where I shall leave off for now, cuz I’m heading for the North Cascades early tomorrow morning w/ my dad and bro. I shall complete this thang next week, focusing on how hitchers (Me and Bear Bait) are perceived by the people driving by.

That's it! I've gone insane...

2007-08-19T23:54:00.002-07:00

So... remember how I was telling you a while back how I've decided to seize upon unexpected and unplanned opportunities more eagerly? Well, maybe I didn't tell you that in so many words, but that's what I was getting at with my stories about my decision to go to Reggae on the River. Well, it happended again, so here goes.

I was staying with the trail angels in Ashland, and me and some friends had just gotten back from a big meal and a night of revelry. Durine my routine late night email check, I got an email from a Southbounder who I'd met back in Castella. Basically, the email was an invitation to come back down to CA and hike the John Muir Trail.

I thought about it for a little bit, but not that long. After all, Id been hearing from all the hikers how amazing that stretch was and I'd already promised myself that I'd go back and do it. SO, why not sooner rather than later? Hadn't I learned anything from previous experiences? I certainly become more comfortable with spontaneity... So, I emailed back something to the effect of "hell yeah!", but with more words, leaving the logistics for later (which is actually now, since this happened 3 days ago).

That's it, I'm going to hike the JMT and this will probably be my last post. Thank you so much for reading and following along on my adventure; I hope you got something good out of it. Please get in touch if you ever want to talk about the PCT, backpacking or life, as I've learned so much about all these things during my journey. Definitely get in touch if you're planning a thru-hike or long-distance backpacking trip, as I've picked up tons of tricks and gear tips along the way. My new email for now is hikingnoble@gmail.com, I'm pretty sure Pomona kicked me off my old one.

How's that for an abrupt ending? Hope to see you on the other side!

Love
Bear Bait

Ashland: my own personal black hole.

2007-08-19T23:54:00.001-07:00

Anyone ever heard of Ashland, OR? Well good for you if you have and you should've if you haven't. Ashland is this great town in Southern Oregon, home to the Shakespeare Festival, a beautiful river, many hippies, and a growing retirment community (damn Californians). I never realized it until this trip, but it also happens to be my own personal black hole.

What do I mean by this? Exactly what you'd expect: Ashland seems to have a wierd gravitational force that seems to attract me. Let me give some examples. When Hal and I were hitchhiking towards Crater Lake, we ended spending the night in Ashland with his (now our) friend Joe, who he'd met in Israel. Great guy, put us up after a long day of hitching and even fed us pancakes for breakfast, which I found surprisingly delicious after my Seiad Valley experience. We actually had to hitch out of our way to get to Ashland, as we were coming from Gratns Pass at the time.

Ok, not convinced? How about this: In my last two weeks hiking, I've been in Ashland 4 separate times: with Hal and Joe, with my parents, with some trail angels and then with just my dad. In that time, I've seen 3 plays and eaten at my favorite Ashland restaraunt, Wiley's World, 3 times. I've also discovered my new favorite pizza parlor and eaten there twice. I didn't even like plays before coming to Ashland, and now I can't see enough! I'm telling you, this place is like an addictive drug to me; I can't pull myself away.

Tomorrow will be a difficult day. Tomorrow I leave Ashland for a very long time to go hike the JMT (see next post for more on that exciting news). However, I have no doubt that I will be back through one more fix before I'm done.

-Bear Bait

Breakfast of Champions

2007-08-17T09:57:00.000-07:00

I always knew I had potential. At least, that's what my mom would tell me. So, from a young age I've held myself to high standards. Yet, I've never truly felt like I've fulfilled my potential. Sure, I've done well in school, received a degree from a good college, had some measure of success in sports, gone on a long-ass hike; still that's all left me with an unfulfilled feeling. There was still something missing from my life...

That is, until I reached Seiad Valley. Seiad Valley is the last California town along the PCT, a mere 30 miles from the Oregon-California border. This PCT metropolis of 600 people is famous among hikers and even known among larger circles. The reason for this: the 5 lb pancake challenge, featured as #3 on the Travel Channel's 10 greatest US pig outs. The deal is this: the local chef will make you 5 1lb pancakes for free! That is, if you can eat them all in 2 hours. Its a lot of pancake batter, about a gallon to be precise. Hikers, being the cocky eaters we are, always attempt the feat yet it is rarely accomplished. Something like 2 people in the past 4 years have done it. So, of course Panther and I had to try.

My strategy was simple: eat as fast as I could and get down as many pancakes as possible, then struggle through the remainder with sheer will and determination. What surprised me is that it actually worked. Before I started feeling terrible, I had down 4 oversized pancakes and was waiting on my fifth. I have pictures of that point; they're not flattering. But Dave, the guy making the pancakes, held up a muscle shirt proclaiming "I survived the pancake challenge" that would be my prize, spurring me through to 41/2. At that point a small crowd had started to gather in the restauraunt and Dave's son Wess was running around with the victor camera proclaiming: "he's gonna do it, I think he's really gonna do it!". By that time my saliva glands had stopped functioning, but how could I dissapoint such a cute kid? You've never seen such a wonderful display of sheer gluttony.

Completing the pancake challenge certainly made my trip South more interesting; I got plenty of congratulations from all the hikers I met. I really attribute all to my brilliant strategy. Funny thing is that Panther, even though he looked like he was going to hurl on pancake number three, not only completed the challenge but ate 5 eggs to boot. You can imagine the godlike reputation he now holds on the trail.

Thus, I've made my name on the trail and finally feel fulfilled in my life's journey. Guess I can stop hiking now, right? Fat chance...

-Bear Bait

Schedule Gets Wierder...

2007-08-14T23:49:00.001-07:00

Just a quick update on where I'm at:

I left the trail for the festival from Seiad Valley. Hal and I then hitched up to Crater Lake, hiked up and around the rim and travelled south to highway 140. I'll probably leave it to him to tell you about our trip, if that bum ever gets around to it. Give him some time though, he's pretty slow...

Tomorrow (actually this morning by my time) I'm leaving, southbound, to finish the 120 mile stretch between highway 140 and Seiad Valley. I'll have that done by Sunday morning. After that, I'll be back in Ashland for a day, at which point I'll head north from Crater Lake up to Eugene, the end of the journey.

So, if there's any last minute mail or anything, I would recommend sending it to Ashland and I will pick it up Monday morning. Otherwise, its been real! I'll try to make some more entries when I get into Ashland, but no gurantees.

Encounters and Panther

2007-08-14T23:49:00.000-07:00

Starting out this trip I though I would be running into all sorts of wild animals. Hostile bears and prowling mountain lions were both eventualities I was prepared to deal with. My dad and a friend called me up one night, having imbibed some wine, and tried to convince me to carry a hand gun. You know, to deal with the moutain lions and prowling wood bandits. I actually had to consider that proposal before turning it down. I thought about carrying a canister of bear spray, but decided against it because of weight. I have carried a big-ass knife with me the whole way, but am yet to use it for anything besides cutting mole skin and spreading peanut butter.

Most wildlife encounters on this trail are pretty mild; people rearely encounter bears or mountain lions in a wild setting. I say wild because bears often show up near dumpsters or in Yosemite campgrounds, but those don't really count as wild animals: Yosemite bears were taught to love human food four generations ago and have not relented since. They're remarkably smart and unphased by humans, making for some interesting but usually harmless campground encounters. My wildlife encounters were restricted to a long distance view of a fox and a tame bear sighting next to a restauraunt dumster. Like I said, pretty mild. That is, before I started hiking with Panther.

Panther got his name as a result of a series of animal encounters: to prepare for the PCT, he hikedsome trail in Florida, where a Panther jumped out in front of him. Later, on the PCT proper, he saw a Mountain Lion on his first day of hiking. Since then his name, and his fate, has been set in stone. Panther has encountered at least 6 wild bears, way more than anyone I've ever heard of. Four of these bears were mother-cub pairs, which can make the otherwise timid black bear into a real danger. At one point, he ran face to face into a mother-cub duo on the trail and stared them down for 2 full minutes (as he tells it at least). At some point, the cub bolted up a tree and the mother followed halfway, still leery of Panther. Panther decided it would be good to scare her with loud noises, encouraging her to move further up so he could pass safely. Wrong decision. His WHOOPs set the momma off, who then came screeching down the tree. Panther never looked back to see how close that bear got to him.

It may be the fact that he hikes without trekking poles, but I like to balme Panther's unusual number of encounters on his animalistic energy. To call Panther an intense person is a vast understatement. He radiates intensity in whatever he does, especially hiking. Panther contracted a terrible rash while we were travelling through poison oak country. Turns out, he's terribly allergic (which he knew), yet didn't bother to find out what it looks like. I even offered to show him, but he declined. Moron. I hiked with him for a number of days while the rash quickly spread over his entire body. I cannot conceive of the amount of pain that guy endured, hiking 25-30 miles a day with his entire body itchy, swelling and on fire. After the poison oak spread up his finger tips and he stopped being able to sleep, he got off the trail to seek medical help.

Panther is an amzing person who comes from an amazing place. By amazing I mean terrifying. Panther grew up in the inner city of Chicago and had a rough rough early life. He was in a gang by the time he was 15 and went to jail not too long after. He's a convicted violent felon who's snorted and smoked everything you can conceive of, short of heroin. The number of crazy drug stories he has are mind boggling. He spent most of his young life fucked up physically, mentally or in jail. He didn't graduate from high school.

I have to give the guy credit; he's strong. At some point he realized where his life was going and did something about it. Five years ago, he joined an NAA group and got clean. This trip is actually a celebration of his 5th year of sobriety; no booze, no drugs, no nothing. Except caffeine. That man lives on coffee and Mountain Dew. I've sat next to him in a bar and watched him drink 8 cups of Java. Those weren't his first of the morning. The amount of insight Panther has gained from his experiences is staggering, and I've found that we've drawn many similar conclusions about life, despite our night and day backgrounds.

But I digress. As I was saying, my wild animal encounters were lacking until I met Panther. We were both heading for Reggae Rising, so we decided to hike a short stretch together. On the second day out I had one of the more terrifying experiences of the trail. There we were, walking along with Panther in the lead. He hears a kssssssssssssssss, the rattle of a rattlesnake, and goes to check it out on the side of the trail. This being my first rattler, I think he's insane. But as he approaches, the rattler seems ok and doesn't strike. Panther gets bored and jumps past him on the trail. I get curious and a little brave, so I decide to check out the rattlesnake too. As I approach, I hear ksssssssssssssssss, normal because the snake is warning me to back off. So I step to the other side of the trail and look to pass him.

Kssssssssssssssssss, from my right. I look down, and practiacally under my boot is another rattler, nearly a twin to the recent focus of our fascination. I'm at once terrified and pissed; the one because there's a rattler right next to my leg and the other because it didn't bother to rattle the entire time Panther was almost stepping on him. I froze a moment, let out a forceful profanity and got the hell past the rattlesnake gauntlet of death. Panther thought that was hillarious, and described my movements as an extremely nervous, frantic ballet.

During the rest of my time with Panther I saw two more rattlesnakes and we had a night visit from a curious bear. I swear, something about that guy just makes all the animals in a mile radius come running.

I stopped hiking with Panther after the festival. I haven't seen a single rattlesnake since.

Bear Bait

Waiting

2007-08-09T00:44:00.000-07:00

Have you ever read the book Siddartha, by Herman Hesse? It's one of my favorite books, if not my very favorite. If you haven't read, please do because it is wonderful. You might now like it, as many people don't, but it still worth reading. The book depicts a young Hindhu man who goes on a spiritual journey, searching for the path to Enlightenment. After the first 25 years of his life, he emerges with three skills that he holds above all else: thinking, fasting and waiting (I'm doing this from memory, so I really hope those are right...).

The first skill is a work in progress: I've been a pretty decent thinker all my life and college has helped me improve on that, despite those nasty rumors. Yet, I know that thinking is a skill that I will be honing for the rest of my life.

The second is something completely beyond me. I'm terrible at fasting and probably always will be. The problem is I like food too much. Just ask Hal how much ice cream I eat on the trail; the pints of Ben and Jerry's quake in fear as I walk into the local grocery store. The closest I've ever come to fasting was the three day organic apple/spring water diet I embarked upon while living in NYC, almost foiled by my then-employment at a burrito restaurant. Damn, those burritos looked good by the end of the third day. I am good at feasting, as I will tell you about in the next blog, but I don't think Siddartha would have too much respect for that...

Waiting, now here's the interesting one. Despite appearances, I was a pretty hard worker in college. I learned to multitask, shortcut and otherwise maximize my productivity in order to make possible all the things I wanted to do. This was great, because it allowed me to explore an entire spectrum of wonderful activities that were available to me. Yet, being in such a highly stimulating environment for a prolonged period of time took its toll on me: I think, somewhere along the line, I forgot how to wait. I became uncomfortable with just doing nothing with my time. Don't get me wrong; I found time to relax, socialize and unwind. But to me these were productive uses of my time. Eventually, I forgot how to wait, how to be comfortable with the entirely unproductive passing of time. A common ailment in our society I believe.

One of the most valuable things I've learned from my experiences was really an old lesson. I relearned how to wait. There's something about spending your entire day devoted towards the modest goal of moving 25 miles that makes you realize that losing an hour is really no big deal. That's tantamount to moving 3 miles less that day, which in the larger, 1000-mile scheme of things is a speck of dust on your candy bar: no big deal. When you realize this, waiting for an hour is effortless.

Forests Play Tricks

2007-07-30T19:37:00.001-07:00

Forests are often depicted as magical places, where fairies, goblins and other crazy things. Although I can't say I've verified this, I do know that forests have a certain mystical property: they play tricks.

Thru-hikers spend much of their time thirsty because water is extremely heavy. 1 liter of water weighs 2.2lbs. 2.2 lbs ways almost as much as my cooking kit. To give you an idea of how heavy that is, I've ran into hikers with 5 lb base weights; their packs weigh 5 lbs before food and water is added. These hikers will nearly kill themselves to avoid carrying over one liter of water.

Most of my grudge against forests revolves around water. I am by no means an "ultra-lighter", as described above. I was ecstatic when I got my base weight under 30 lbs. As such, I am willing to carry extra water from time to time; generally four liters is my upper limit. Yet, I try to avoid carrying this much and generally stick with a liter unless I know a dry stretch is coming up. I am also a pioneer of the "camel strategy", which involves getting to a stream, drinking two liters and packing out one. This strategy was born out of my college days, when I would chug a liter before going out drinking, then chug a liter when I got back. My brain cells thanked me profusely. Using this strategy out here, I can generally go half a day without having to refill.

Nevertheless, there are times when I get thirsty. Damn thirsty. These are the times when the forest gets frisky. From a dry ridge I've looked down to see a shining pool of crystal cool water, only to find upon my arrival that it was just a weirdly colored rock. Verdant ravines appear more often when you are thirst, but they always turn up dry. Yet the most frustrating is the wind. I swear, the sound of the wind rustling through the leaves of a forest sounds exactly like a cool mountain stream, regardless if were talking conifers or deciduous. I've spent 10 full, thirsty minutes expecting a raging river around the next bend, only to have my hopes die along with the wind. That was the longest, most even, most sustained wind I've ever heard...

So, take this as a warning: don't get tricked by the forest! One minute it will be all beautiful, green and sunny, but as soon as you drink your last water it turns into your worst enemy.

-Bear Bait

I am Selfish

2007-07-30T19:02:00.000-07:00

I always suspected that I might have a selfish streak running through my personality. Aside from my pronounced predisposition on account of my only-childhood, there were certain incidences throughout my life that should have tipped me off.

Ever since I was little, I've been very possessive of food. Being a fat kid, I have always been very fond of ice cream (which is coincidentally my favorite food fresh off the trail). My dad is a bit of a fat kid himself, so from time to time would coerce a bite from me. I say coerced, because I would get pissed! The only way he actually managed is because he'd bring up the ol' "there's no shortage of ice cream in the store, we can get two more if you want". I was never quite satisfied, but how does one argue with this infallible logic? Then there was the time I threw a temper tantrum when my parents made me share my nintendo with two girls, children of a dinner guest. It was infuriating watching them play Mario and dying on the easiest parts, waisting my precious lives. Finally, up until my freshman year of college I had the hardest time spending my own money. I had money, but if there was anyway I could get something for free or get my parents to pay for something, I'd do it. Sounds normal? I took it to extreme. I won't get into that though; it might get ugly.

Somehow, even having the privelage of hindsight upon all these incidences, I never caught on. I think selfishness is difficult thing to admit about oneself because it has such an extreme negative connotation. Plus, it was even more distressful that I might actually fulfill this stereotype of the only child.

About three weeks ago a hiked for a a two-day stretch with another guy named Thunder. Thunder is a big guy in his thirties. Having lost 53 lbs on the trail, I extrapolated the conclusion that Thunder used to be a fat guy in his thirties. That's beside the point though, he could still hike faster than me. Really I'm hoping he reads me calling him fat; a little motivation to keep that weight off after the trail Thunder?

Thunder is the type of guy he absorbs information like a sponge. I wasn't around him long enough to determine whether he's a genius, but I do know that his dad was certified. Suffice to say that hiking with him was a two-day history/politics/science lesson, which shocked me somewhat because I thought I knew a lot about science. Turns out Thunder is a social engineer with an engineering degree. The only thing he deferred to me was economics and that barely. The amount of detail and fact that man stores in his head is amazing. Not only this, but I quickly came to the realization that Thunder was not only smart, but wise. He'll deny it, but that's what true wisdom is, right? I spent a lot of time listening to him and as a result learned a lot.

One day Thunder and I were involved in a discussion concerning one's responsibility to society. During this discussion, he made an offhand statement, the impact of which I don't think he comprehends. He said this: "Thru-hiking is the single most selfish thing a person can do". It may seem obvious to some, but this was novel to me and I was floored. More, the implications are huge! Here I am, engaged in the most selfish of selfish activities. Furthermore, here Thunder is as well.

I am a selfish person. I am taking a year out of life to travel, learn, and have fun, all of which are geared towards my own self-enrichment. This is the ultimate selfish act, but I wouldn't have it any other way. This made me realize something about the nature of selfishness.

Selfishness is neither good or bad; it's the manifestations of this quality that flavor how it is perceived. Too often we focus on the petty aspects: unwillingness to share ice-cream or spend money, nintendo incidents (you know, things that happen to everybody). Yet, so much good results from being selfish. The key I've found is to acknowledge my own selfishness and discern the good and bad aspects of this part of me. I strive to encourage the good and suppress the bad. Simple right? We'll see about that...

So, I am a selfish person. That wasn't so hard, I guess. Just don't try to take my ice cream. I'm not ready for that step yet.

-Bear Bait

How I Got Hooked Up

2007-07-30T18:33:00.000-07:00

Seeing as how a large part of my trip has now turned into a 7-day volunteer cooking, music-listening, festival-going extravaganza, I thought I owed you all an explanation as to how I got so lucky as to stumble across this opportunity. So here we go.

I think I told you before about my desperate push to make dinner at the Heitmans' (the trail angels in Old Station), so that's where I'll start. I got in to their place and immediately set upon the food like a starving lion on a zebra carcass. Really, I got comments. The food was basic; sloppy Joes, simple salad, lasagna and burgers, but these things are such amazing luxuries when you get out of the mountains.

Through my amazing eating prowess I managed to impress the cook, who's name is Wolfman. It turns out that Georgi, the trail angel host, was out of town for awhile. Instead of closing down her house, as any sane person would, she enlisted the help of Wolfman and another hiker, Girl Scout, to manage the trail-angeling duties in her absence. Believe me, this is no small task, as it consists of preparing 2 meals a day, operating a full-time shuttle service, and 20 or more hikers overrunning your house. I have no idea how these people do it, but I am eternally grateful.

I got into a conversation with Wolfman about trail angeling. I jested, saying that maybe I'd stay here for a week. He sort of leered at me, exclaiming: "you better be ready to cook". Little did he know I love cooking and instantly agreed to help him the next morning.

In the morning I woke up in a panic. I had slept in heavily, the sun was well out and I figured everyone had cooked and eaten already. I wandered over to the kitchen area, and to my relief nothing had started yet. I guess it was one of those mornings. I sat around awhile while I waited for french toast duty. Another hiker, Mr. Parquay, sleepily wandered over and plopped down next to me. I teased him about getting up so late, and he protested: "What? It can't be past like 6:30!". A wristwatch immediately appeared from my other side, reading in large numbers: 7:45. It really was one of those mornings. Let's just say Mr. Parquay didn't make it back to the trail that day.

I cooked the french toast, served them, and ate half of them myself. Wolfman was happy though, as a realization of the true difficulty of trail angeling dawned on him. I got to talking to him, and he brought up the idea of volunteering at Reggae Rising (formerly Reggae on the River). I mentioned it before, but it involves being off the trail for about a week, so I was immediately reluctant. After all, didn't I have a schedule to keep?

Then I came to my senses. What was I thinking, passing up a wonderful opportunity that fate had offered me on a platter? What kind of a journey goes in a straight line, directly to its destination? A crappy kind, I elegantly answered my own internal monologue. Before leaving the Heitmans', I told Wolfman "I'm doing it, see you in Seiad Valley, 3:00 pm on the 2nd." Looks like I might even make it, as long as I don't sleep in tomorrow.

I took a lesson from this experience, and you should too. First of all, learn how to cook, it will get you places. Second, never get so locked into you immediate goal that you become blind to the opportunities presented you. You never know what you can find if you just avoid getting tunnel vision.

Bear Bait

Ever-Shifting Schedule and Side Adventure

2007-07-21T14:35:00.000-07:00

So, for those of you following along, it has become pretty evident that I am ahead of schedule. In fact, my schedule that I posted is defunct, as I have decided to scrap it completely in favor of a side adventure. Here is a general outline of the new one:

Get to Etna Summit, about 50 miles South of Seiad Valley by August 2nd.
Take 7 days off the trail to volunteer at Reggae on the River.
Resume schedule at Etna Summit on the morning of August 10th.
Seiad Valley by the 11th
Ashland by the 14th, one day layover in Ashland.
Diamond Lake by 21st
Home by the 30th

Right now I am in Old Station and plan to reach McArthur Burney by July 23rd. From there, I will be averaging about 25 miles a day.

Forests vs. N Forests

2007-07-21T14:23:00.000-07:00

If there's one thing I've learned on this trip, and there is, its the difference between forests and National Forests. Forests are living ecosystems, filled with multiple species of plant critter, insect, fungus, everything else. You can see it in the differently-sized trees, you can see it in the health of the loam and the plants covering the ground.

I've walked through a lot of national forests, and they are not forests. Plenty of trees, but all of one species, one age and trimmed and spaced to identicality (not a word, but you get it). They creep me out, walking through rows upon rows of trees without character, a whole environment without any definable features. This is agriculture, a tree farm, and never has the difference between a forest and a tree farm struck me across the face so blatantly. Hiking through a national forest, you are struck by how devoid of beauty this treed area is.

I don't write this to rail against National Forests. They are absolutely vital to our way of life in the US. We use wood for paper, houses and countless other vital products. I write this to ward you against optimistic statements such as: the US is 20% more forested that it was 15 years ago! I've heard statements to this end before (although my numbers are made up) and have been encouraged by them. However, to truly evaluate the situation, you need to look past the "forested" lands and examine how much of our healthy forests with functioning ecosystems survives today. I'd wager that number is a lot lower than the former.

An Enlightening Experience

2007-07-21T13:22:00.000-07:00

Hiking is extremely routine-oriented: you wake up when it gets light, pack your stuff, eat something, hike for three hours, eat something, hike for three hours, eat something, hike for three hours, rest, eat something, hike for three hours, cook, pitch tent, sleep. Give or take, this is my day. You might think this would make for a rather monotonous lifestyle, doesn't it get boring? Well, yes, sometimes, but there's also a lot of action going on upstairs. Something that I've remarked on before and that any thru hiker will tell you is that your brain is so much louder and communicative when you quiet the rest of your life. Hiking gives you time for for introspection, a look at your soul.

It also makes it that much more obvious, and delightful (or depressing), when something extraordinary happens. The last three days of hiking have been pretty extraordinary, so I thought I would relate some of my most recent experiences.

Three days ago I set out from Belden. (For those of you following my schedule, I am somewhat ahaid of schedule. In fact, my schedule is pretty screwed, as I'll explain later). It was raining, but I decided it was time to start hiking regardless. The nice trail angels I was staying with seemde to think the storm would be short, so I wasn't too worried. This was my first real rain of the trip. So I hiked.

About 8 miles in, I ran into another hiker I knew, Rumble. She had camped in the hills the night before, gotten her stuff soaked and come back down because she was scared of hypothermia. Fair enough, it made me nervous, but my stuff was dry and I was still in good spirits. So I hiked.

This is when I started getting cold. As it turns out, the poncho I was using as raingear was semi-waterproof. Well, that's too bad. My stuff was still dry, but I was soaked. I noticed I was peeing an exceptional number of times, despite not having drank anything that day. I was soaked for so long that I was absorbing rain through my skin in mass quantities. I didn't know you could do that, I guess hiking does teach you something! I considered pitching my tenet and waiting out the storm in my sleeping bag. Nah, to keep going was the only way to keep warm. So I hiked.

I started to wonder if the rain would ever stopped. I started yelling at the clouds to go away. At one point I did a sun dance. It must have worked, because around 3:00 PM I saw my shadow. I've never been so happy for a little sunchine. As the steam rose of the meadows around me, I found a log to sit on and enjoy the sun. It was still drizzling, and a little windy, but it didn't matter because that extraordinary matter/wave called sunlight was raining down on me for the first time in 18 hours. I was content.

I kept hiking for the rest of the day, although I felt somewhat weak from trudging through the storm. I made camp on a mountain summit, with a beautiful view of the sunset and the cloud formations, not so long ago a menacing threat, now broken and swirling in intricate patterns.

This being a trip of ups and downs, it got really cold that night. SO cold that everything frosted over. It didn't rain, which was great, but it sure looked like it did when I woke up because my rain fly was soaked through from the melted frost and condensation. I spent an extra long time packing up that morning, rotating between rolling up the fly and sticking my hands in my armpits and down my pants for warmth. Leaving my sleeping bag for the below zero wet environment that morning was one of the hardest things I've done on this trip so far.

As you might have predicted, the rest of that day I ate something, hiked for three hours, ate something, hiked for three hours, ate something, hiked for three hours, rested, ate something, hiked for three hours, cooked, pitched my tent, and went to sleep.

Day 3 from Belden. Something in my head decided I needed a challenge. I knew of a Trail Angel about 33 miles hike from where I was camped, an intimidating distance. I decided to go for it, although the food might have also been a motivating factor. So I hiked, this time hard. I was sweating all through the morning, despite the cold weather.

About 10 I came across an establishment in the middle of Lassen National Forest. It was called Drakesbad Ranch, and I had heard about them from some other hikers. At this point I was damn thirsty and decided to go get some water. As soon as I scoped the kitchen, this turned into a yearning for food. I rationalized: I'm not sure I can do 33 miles on pack food, better tank up here. It worked, and I quickly headed for the restaurant.

It turns out they weren't open for meals at the time, but thankfully they're also extremely hiker-friendly. When I explained my dilemma, that I was in a hurry, this guy named Ed came out, tried to convinced me to stay for lunch, realized I couldn't, then proceeded to reopen the kitchen for some scrambled eggs and ham. What followed was extraordinary.

I was served an entire spread, including a glass of orange juice, fresh fruit, coffee, the biggest plate of scrambled eggs and ham" two random onlookers had ever seen, and a half loaf of fresh baked bread. I was floored, as I paused in between oversized bites to truly comprehend what had just happened. I polished it all off, pretty quickly to my credit, and asked Ed what I owed him for this feast. I was already clutching unconsciously at my cash bag, worried that I had just incurred a big unforseen expense. This was a very nice place, after all. Ed quickly returned with a bill, that had a simple "5" written on it. He had charged $5 dollars for what was justifiably a $15-20 spread, and that 5 was clearly a triviality. He then proceeded to pack me out with more fresh fruit and pointed me to a shortcut back to the PCT, saving me a couple miles of walking (although I did have to climb a hill, ouch).

As an addendum, I have to mention that Ed was not the only one being amazing, he was just the guy in charge. I talked to at least 3 other people there, including one women from Lithuania who waited on me 1/2 time (brought me the bread), and they were all the most gracious and wonderful people. What a high to be treated like that by complete strangers! If you ever have the chance, I encourage you to visit Drakesbad (especially if your hiking), its a wonderful wonderful place.

After giving the hot baths and a scrapping of original plan some serious consideration, I set off down the shortcut. I hiked until I was tired, stopped to snack on some Gu that Sam Meehan sent me in Sierra City (that stuff rocks) and started hiking more. At some point during the afternoon, I had an epiphany, one of those rare hiking moments in which you realize something so utterly simple that it sounds idiotic when you right it down, yet so profoundly affects your soul. To risk sounding idiotic, here is what I realized: I am hiking a thousand miles on the PCT, just graduated from college, going to China and then to Latin America. My life is absolutely blessed; in that moment I learned to acknowledge and thank whatever god/ law of science/ person/ other put me in that moment at that time at that place. It was feeling of pure gratitude for the conditions that had shaped my life and made me who I was. It was bliss.

I won't say anymore, because as I said its not something that can be communicated through words. It just was. The actual experience lasted for about 30 minutes of hiking, but it has changed me irrevocably. I can still feel it, not as I did before, but its there and always will be.

Unfortunately, I couldn't just be transported to dinner at the Trail Angel's so that I could reflect upon this experience over a nice hot meal. The rest of the hike was dry, hot and my body was exhausted. I made it though, and just in time for dinner. Yet another piece to be grateful for.

Bear Bait

Getting in the Groove

2007-07-13T15:49:00.000-07:00

So, 15 days in I'm starting feel at home out here. Don't get me wrong, I'm taking a day off in town and loving it today! Ice Cream, salads and eveything else I can possibly eat! Yet, every time I set up camp I feel more and more comfortable with the concept of just being outside, under the stars without a town or civilization to support me.

Yesterday I worked myself to exhaustion. Its been tough going out here, I was definitely ready to take a day off. I almost made it to Sierra City last night (where I am now) but stopped 3 miles short because I just couldn't go anymore. Sletp for 12 hours, woke up, came into town and had an enormous breakfast. God, food tastes great when you're hiking!

The PCT has an incredible community that surrounds it. I've already met upwards of 40 other thru hikers, most of whom have been at it since Mexico. They are incredibly accepting, even though I'm only a newbie. 2 phenomena worth mentioning: Trail Magic is hiker lingo for random acts of kindness. Every now and then, when passing a road or somewhere else accessible, someone will leave a box full of goodies. I've run across fresh organic fruit, others have gotten soda beer and all kinds of other stuff. The second and most wonderful: Trail Angels. This is the term used to describe people along the trail who house and feed thru hikers. They do this, free of charge, in addition to picking you up at the trail head. So far I am yet to stay with one, although I plan to in Belden and again in Burney. These people are incredibly kind and generally spend most of their day for six weeks during the summer shuttling hikers to an fro and buying groceries/cooking stuff. How cool!!

I'm hiking faster and faster as time goes on. I've been doing about 20-25 miles a day, which I'm pretty proud of. Part of that is my body getting into better shape. The other part is my pack getting lighter. A lot lighter. I've dropped at least 10 lbs in unnecessary gear and food, and boy does it make a difference. Just today I mailed back a bear canister, rain pants, an extra shirt, tent stakes and some other crap I don't use. You just realize you don't need that much stuff if you live simply. In that spirit, here are some tips to lightening your pack that I've picked up along the way, not all of which I've implemented but are worthy of mentioning:

Stove: Don't use one, try to eat cold if possible. Stoves take wight and so does fuel. If you have to use a stove, use an alcohol stove because they are way lighter than whisperlights.

Tene: A lot of these guys don't have a tent at all! They use their trekking poles to prop up a tarp, then put mosquito netting around it to protect from bugs. Saves about 2 lbs if you do it right.

Use gatorade bottles instead of Nalgenes

If using a stove, use dried foods. Water weighs 2.2 lbs per Liter, which is a lot. As much pasta, rice, other grains as possible.

Use foods that cook fast. You save on fuel and caniste weight

No luxuries! Brownie Mix, dehydrate milk and olive oil are all grat, but you really don't need them. Its better to pack light, go without for 5 days and then find a town and live the good life!

Don't take unnecessary gadgets. You certainly will the first time you go out, but just be prepared to send them home.

Look for redundancies in your clothing. For instance, I had a rain poncho, rain pants and a rain jacket. I got rid of the jacket and pants, as I carried them for 15 days without using them.

Don't make pancakes!!!! (Hal, this one's for you) Although they sound like a great camping idea, they are heavy in ingredients, fuel expensive and a huge hassle. Don't do it, you can resist!!!

That's about it for now. Until next time!

Bear Bait

Hiking is Hard!

2007-07-04T12:41:00.000-07:00

Whew, I'm exhausted. I just hit civilization for the first time in 5 days and the surreality is astounding. I got into Bridgeport last night and I'm laying over there today. Bridgeport is a town of about 800 on hwy 395, East of the Sierras. Well known as a fisherman's mecca, Bridgeport also boasts a festive 4th of July tractor parade as well as homegrown rodeo. I'm not sure I've seen anyone not wearing either a cowboy hat or an american flag in some form, except for some fellow hikers laying over. Here's a quick summary of the last 5 days:

Day 0 (I'm calling it day 0, because we went in a day earlier than expected) 6 miles:
We made it to Toulumne Meadows around 2:30. As usual, nothing ever goes as planned. We needed a permit for my dad to accompny me through Yosemite Wilderness, and the park was pretty full. After some "grey permitting" by a very helpful park ranger who's name I will keep anonymous, we got my dad legalizzed for the hike. However, we were also informed that bear canisters are a requirement while camping in the park. I had planned to hang my food in the trees and the prospect of adding 2.5 lbs to my already over-laden backpack was not appealing, but somehow we were both convinced. I felt we owed our amazing ranger at least this graciousness for not stopping our trip dead in its tracks.
We cleared our car of everything scented (apparently bears can smell anything, inlcuding recently some lady's insulin) and finally started out on our hike around 4:30. I late start, I know, but our ambitions for this day were few. We were looking to make a 6 mile hike to a well-used campground called Glen Aulin. We managed this, but not without difficulty. About 1/2 mile in, we realized my dad forgot his permit. That was remedied by a short jog back and a frantic search of the car. This also gave my dad an opportunity to repair his backpack, which of course had already torn at the shoulder strap.
After finally getting underway for real we made the hike in fairly good time, although we came to some sobering conclusions. My pack was far too heavy and dad was going to have blister problems. Oh well, nothing we could do now. As we walked into camp, we passed a tented buffet restauraunt. Maybe the Sierras aren't as rugged as I had oringally thought...

Day 1 15.8 miles
By the time we got up, cooked breakfast and got our packs together, it was 8:30. Not exactly an early hiker's start. Still, what did you expect from someone who'd been staying up to 2 AM every night before? Tragedy struck this morning, as we managed to lose the tent bag (Predictably, I later found it in the bottom of my pack).
We saw some gorgeous sights during our hike today. My favorite was our late-afternoon visit to Miller Lake, which exploded into view just as we ended a steep climb. The lake was beautifully blue, the mosquitoes were few, and the swimming was good, although in this I did not partake because we had to move fast to make our 16 miles. Damn late start.
I ran in to 3 interesting characters today, all of whom had been hiking since Mexico. The first was Gail, who is a 60ish graduate from Scripps College, although she got her Botany degree from Pomona. She was amusingly quarky and provided great company and helpful advice for a newbie on the trail. I ran into her a couple more times along the trail. The second was a younger woman who went by the trail name "Breeze". Trail names, I would later learn, are alternate, more memorable names thru hikers use. Usually they reflect some aspect of that person's personality or embarrassing past. Breeze had some frineds join her for the stretch from Toulumne meadows, so was moving pretty slowly. More slowly, I got the impression, then she would have liked. Finally was Grimmace, who walked into our camp late in the evening, searching for his own campsite, We talked for awhile, and he decided to trun back to an earlier site. I'd see hime later on as well.
We camped about 4 miles past Miller Lake , next to a creek crossing. Dehydrated beef and maccaroni and instant potatoes never tasted so sweet! I had no arguments about going to bed early this night, as we were aiming for a little earlier start the next morning.

I'm at an internet cafe and my time's running out, so I gotta go a little faster now...

Day 2 15.8 miles
We were moving by 7AM, a large victory for a tough day ahead. Today was really tough because of the hills. Even though the mileage was about the same as the previous day, the hills killed. The highlight of the day was hot lunch on a gorgeous, bug-free beach at Lake Benson. Absolutely beautiful and a welcome refresher from the exhausting and slow-going hiking. It was here that we realized my dad's blister problems were going to be more serious than either of us had considered. When he took his boots off for lunch, they looked bad, to the point of him wanting to put his boot back on so he didn't have to look at them. The highlight was a huge blister on the top of his foot that stretched halfway to his ankle.
In the afternoon we encountered more hills and had made only 11 miles by 5PM. The next stretch was flat, so I started a quick pace of what my dad would later describe as the "death march" on the last 5 miles of the day. We were both exhausted when we got into camp.

Day 3 19 miles
With dad's blister problems so bad, we started worrying about infection. To this end, we decided to book it today. We were moving by 6:30, ate cold breakfast on the trail, and passed up some golden swiomming opporuntites. We did encounter a tough morning climb and descent, so the going was slow at times. Still, we made 19 miles by the end of the day.
We stopped to rest next to a high altitude lake nestled in between some snow-capped mountains. There we encountered a trio of thruhikers who we'd been leap froggin all day long. They took a look at dad's feet and didn't have the best reactions. "I've seen worse" is not exactly encouraging. Thus, we decided to continue on for some more mileage before camping.
I used my trail name for the first time today. I had been debating whether I really deserved one, as I was not doing the whole stretch, but after conferring with those three thruers we decided it was appropriate. I'd been doing stupid things lately like leaving wrappers in the pockets of my sleeping close, so I settled on "Bear Bait". Self- derprecating humour, alliteration, and a double-entendre.

Day 4 19 miles
With dad's left foot being held together by moleskin, new skin and gauze wrap, we decided to go for the gold: we were going to make it to Sonora Pass, the end of our trek, today. This was no easy task, as it involved a 2000 foot climb to and a short jaunt along the Sierra Crest, just below 11,000 feet. The climb was deifficult, but the views of the sorrunding mountains were more then worth it, at least for me. Dad, I think, was on another plane of existence. As he described it to me: "I just made my whole body go numbe, that's how I kept going". To his credit, he did keep going through nearly inhuman circumstances. His foot was shredded, he was exhausted, and he started suffering from altitude sickness at 10,500 feet. At lunch, I had to force him ot eat bagels with peanut butter and honey so he wouldn't collapse during the next few miles. Yet, as we finally stumbled into Sonora Pass he was the one in the lead. Somehow, I'm not really sure how, he kept going. Stubborness maybe?
We hitched a ride into Bridgeport after about 20 minutes from a nice forest service lady. There, we got a room and I ate about as much as I've ever eaten at the local bar. Pizza, salad, and Chili cheese fries. Not to mention the cold beer. AMAZING! We ran into a thru hiker named Rosham at the bar, and gave him some pizza, which he devoured admirably.

Sorry, gotta go. Hopefully I'll start up again tomorrow morning and hit Echo Lake 4 days from now. Maybe another posting then? No pictures until the of the trip, but they will be amazing!

Other Information

2007-06-28T22:32:00.000-07:00

I accept post cards, baked goods, strange requests and general wellwishing at the following addresses and approximate dates (dates are when I pass through).

7/9/07
Erin Noble, c/o General Delivery
PCT Hiker, EDA 7/9/07
9900 Echo Lakes RD
Echo Lake, CA 95721-9400

7/14/07
Erin Noble, c/o General Delivery
PCT Hiker, EDA 7/14/07
Sierra City, CA 96125-9995

7/20/07
Erin Noble, c/o General Delivery
PCT Hiker, EDA
Belden, CA 95915-9998

8/2/07
Erin Noble c/o Castella Post Office
PCT Hiker, EDA
20115 Castle Creek RD
Castella, CA 96017-9998

8/10/07
Erin Noble, c/o General Delivery
PCT Hiker, EDA
44717 State Highway 96
Seiad Valley, CA 96086-9998

8/15/07
Erin Noble, c/o General Delivery
PCT Hiker, EDA
Ashland Post Office
Ashland, OR 97520-9998

8/23/07
Erin Noble, c/o General Delivery
PCT Hiker, EDA
350 Resort DR
Diamond Lake, OR 97731-9710

It's Here

2007-06-28T20:10:00.001-07:00

The day is here; I’m leaving Claremont for good. I was starting to wonder, so leaving is relieving in a way. Of course it’s also sad, as I say good bye to friends. I’ve had some quality time hanging out with old friends during my extended summer stay on campus, but I’ve also met some great new friends. Both partings are rough.

I freaked out a couple nights ago, as I realized exactly how much work I still had to do prepping for this trip. It feels like that world is months in the past. Two days, 3 Costco trips and a wild dash to the post office later, I’m on the other side of that hurdle. I’m not scared, or apprehensive. It feels good as I prepare to dive in for the long haul. 2 months is no pittance, but I’m ready.

Will this trip help me find what I want to do in life? I hope so, because otherwise I’m pretty screwed in that department. However, I already feel like the time, money and effort spent on this endeavor has been worth it. I know this will be an amazing experience and I wouldn’t trade it for the world.

One last thing to do before I leave… buy a ticket to China! But, that’s a whole nother story (or maybe blog…). I’ll try to update this site as frequently as possible, although I’m not sure which resupply points will have internet access. Hopefully all of them, but that seems a little optimistic.

See you on the other side! Except you Hal, I’ll see you on the trail.

Erin “bear lunch” Noble

REI and Practice

2007-06-20T19:00:00.000-07:00

Today I went to REI. REI has a lot of cool stuff. I spent a lot of money at REI… Well, I guess that’s kind a how it goes when you need to get a new backpack. The good news is that my new backpack is sooooo comfortable. It makes 60 lbs feel like 30 in my old one… YES!

I also took my gear for a dry run today. Good thing too, because the first thing that happened was a broken shoe lace in the parking lot. No worries, I still got to hike 8 miles up and down Mt Baldy. First time I’ve ever used trekking polls, and I love them! Thanks Mary Beth and Erich. Only problem is, I started getting blisters on the sides of my hands. Guess I’ll have to start using them more… I don’t really see that being a problem.

Today reminded just how meditative hiking can be. I got into a great rhythm and it felt wonderful. All sorts of random thoughts that were buried in the back of my head boiled to the surface. I’ll spare you the details, but the mind is much louder outdoors. That is, you can listen to yourself very clearly while hiking. This is getting me excited for the real thing…

An Introduction

2007-06-14T16:00:00.000-07:00

At the beginning of my senior year at Pomona College, I figured out a solution to my problem. You see, I had no idea what I was doing with my life nor where I was going after college. It seemed like most of my friends had some semblance of a life plan whereas I had been actively avoiding planning the future since September. This lack of direction wasn't the problem, however. I like not knowing where I'll be in six months, it creates an element of excitement in my life that I want to enjoy while I'm young. The problem was the dreaded professor/relative/friend question: "So, what are you doing after college?"

Any college senior is intimately familiar with this question. Some jump at the opportunity to discuss their new job or fellowship. You know when you get up in the middle of the night, groping for the light switch as you look for the bathroom? That initial shock as the light first hits your eyes and you try to shield yourself from the penetrating brightness is similar to how others react. Okay so I’m being dramatic, but you get the point.

I wouldn’t be writing this if I didn’t have some experience as a member of the latter group. I quickly discovered that my typical answer would not suffice as a conversation piece. "I'm not sure, I haven't really thought about it..." generally elicited a quick reassurance that kids my age are too worried about rushing into careers anyway, followed by a deliberate avoidance of the subject for the remainder of the conversation. Yet despite not being a verbal participant, my lack of future plans too often remained a major player, gesticulating at the conversationalists as we strived valiantly to ignore the subject.

My solution was born out of a personal joke and my current obsession was born from this solution. Early in the year I started telling myself that I would hike home. I think I was drinking a glass of wine when the idea struck me. Remember, I go to school over 1000 miles from home so at the time it seemed an absurd proposal to me. It gave me a good couple of laughs, and it quickly became a quick answer to the question. Somewhere along the line, I became fixated. Then I became obsessed. Now, I’m actually going through with it.

This blog will depict my trip plan, trip photos (hopefully), my thoughts and any crazy problems that I come across. Once the trip starts, the amount of material going up on this page will depend on internet access. Who knows when I’ll have access to a computer, but when I do I’m sure I’ll have some crazy stuff to tell you and some gorgeous photos to post. Enjoy!