2 August 2009 - Hobuck Beach

All good things do not have to come to an end. I write this while sitting on a Pacific beach, waiting for the sun to make its final descent of my PNT journey--an adventure where I hiked 1,000 miles viewing some of the most impressive natural gems of our world while becoming better acquainted with some of the different personalities that populate our world. I am not saddened by the closing minutes of this adventure. Instead, I am excited to have logged an incredible life experience that no one can ever take from me and that will exist forever as long as I remain in the proper mind to live its learnings.

This trip has taught me to live a more simplified life. All I need is nourishment, shelter, and companionship. Anything else is a luxury and potentially frivolous. Tonight I inventoried my back pack. Everything left after 51 days was essential for this trip (anything not needed had long been discarded); however, few of these items will have any relevance for my life starting tomorrow. For this reason I threw away about half of the contents of my bag this evening. I could use these items again when I go on another long through hike, but it is just too valuable for me to have a liberated mind, free from the clutter of misc., well used gear which would be more expensive to store for years than to buy new. For the rest of my life, my adventure will remind me what is truly needed, preventing me from accummulating excess.

This trip reinforced my belief that the world is full of great people, curious to share stories and to help a traveler. This was evident from all the hospitality that we received along the way: free food, free drinks, reduced lodging, ride offers, future adventure invitations, and much more. Going forward, I will remember this, allowing me to have more confidence and less apprehension while traveling. There is always some great person willing to help. Additionally, I will be better to travelers passing through my town that I meet. I'm excited to buy a beer, offer a couch, or give some advice in exchange for a story and for the spirit of adventure. For the rest of my life, this adventure will remind me to be a good traveler and a welcoming host.

I can't express all the ways the past 51 days have affected the rest of my life. Nor can I even know all the long term effects. I'm going to let this experience live on forever, and I'm going to let it contribute to the long line of adventures that will occur in my life. The sun has still not set, but the beach has emptied except for me. My body is shaking from the symbolism of this moment. I can already tell that I see the world differently.



Barefoot hiking on the second to last day.

Walking on sand.

Another shot of some of the beach.

Eating our final breakfast of the trip.

Trying to keep feet dry during high tide.


Putting my shoes back on after our final ford of the trip.

Rachel and Dave deciding to play in the ocean a bit before putting on shoes after our last ford.

Tide out, revealing a very large beach.

Rachel electing to go under some rocks.

The final stretch of land to navigate. Our "finish line" and the sun was just around this corner.

David reflecting after we finished the hike on Shi Shi beach.

31 July 2009 - Chilean Memorial

After forty-nine days of hiking, we have reached the Pacific Ocean. Knowing that we'd be camping on the beach tonight, today's 18 miles from Forks, Washington flew by. Throughout the walk I kept anticipating our grand entrance on the beach, almost envisioning a comparable feeling as those felt by Merriweather Lewis, Magellan, or Balboa when they met the Pacific. Instead, I was greeted by a crowded parking lots and long lines at a public bathroom. Whatever the case it is great to have reached the ocean after nearly 50 days of everything else.

The Pacific is the ultimate barrier to our westward journey. We've found and created routes up, over, under, and around mountains, lakes, rivers, dams, deserts, quarries, cities, and fields of blowdown, but we are finally being stopped by the Pacific. Because we can no longer head west, we will spent the next two days hiking north along the ocean to Neha Bay.

I cannot comprehend that this adventure is almost over. It still hasn't sunk in that I am camped a few yards from the ocean. This adventure has consumed me, and I can't foresee a different. life.


More people come to this part of the country to see where the series Twilight takes place than to hike.

Typical site from our first day on the coast.

29 July 2009 - Bogashiel River

Tonight is our last evening in Olympic National Park. By early afternoon tomorrow, we should be in the town of Forks resupplying. The next day we will be on the coast in the Olympic National Wilderness.

Besides being another long day (22 plus miles), it was another scorching day. A park ranger we encountered in the park notified us that we were experiencing a record heat wave [Later learned it was the hottest few days in the history of the state]. This fits the trend of our walk considering it has been hot and sunny almost every day. In nearly 50 days, we have only encountered rain four times...even though we are camping in a rain forest tonight.

The intense heat further increases the need to supply our bodies with adequate fuel. Out on the trail, food and water has taken on a new meaning. Instead of looking forward to meals as an enjoyable affair, I now count the miles until I can load up on energy. When eating, I quickly shove as much food in my mouth as fast as I can. I do not savor anything. I just need the calories.

I don't think any of us have eaten the appropriate number of calories while hiking. We've been relying too much on our fat reserves. Unfortunately, I think I have used up too much of my reserves already. Not only that, but my body wants more variety in my food. I can't wait until my body likes food again. [Note after the fact: On this trip I lost about 25 pounds from my already relatively small body]


Rachel with a sign atop of Appleton Pass. Rachel is from Appleton, Wisconsin.

Resting by some very cold water, a huge relief on a record hot day.

Heart Lake. We didn't stop to swim, but I wish we would have.

Some little lakes/ponds in the background.

Walking along the contours.

It was so hot, a huge number of elk congregated on one of the few remaining snow piles. That brown spot in the middle of the snow pile is actually at least 30 elk.

Rapidly evaporating subalpine ponds.

Where are the Ewoks?

27 July 2009 - Olympic National Park - Boulder Creek

Today was our second day in Olympic National Park. We had a grueling 23 mile day--with all miles either going up or down--but ultimately were awarded with a campsite near natural hot springs.

Today's walk alternated between rarely used trails where we encountered no one and high density trails that felt like we were in a parade. For one of the high density trails, we walked along a road for a few miles which ended at the trail head. The trail head parking lot was full of cars, an overflow lot was even required for a Monday. The trail itself was steep but wide and paved. We had yet to see a trail so wide and clear. Due to its condition, we probably encountered thirty people on the short paved section--after a mile, the pavement ended and we saw no one. I wasn't surprised by the number of people due to the trail's accessibility, level of difficulty, and beauty. It was one of the most beautiful stretches of trail that we'd encountered yet.

Due to the high volume of people, both David and Rachel were critical of the trail. At one time I would have agreed with them, but now I support this type of trail. For the past seven weeks we have walked strenuous trails, seeing practically no one. We have traversed 100s of miles that seemed to be maintained solely for us. Now we are in a national park, crowded with people trying to easily see some of our country's natural treasures. As a national park, these treasures should be accessible. If someone gets frustrated by the crowds and ease of use, he could hike any of the other 1,000 miles we have hiked on this trip. Who cares if there are some places that people can invest just an afternoon and be able to experience something breathtaking?

Over the course of our trip, we have become accustomed with our style of travel--hiking everywhere. This mode has become so natural that we occasionally find ourselves being critical of any non-ambulatory mode of transit. It is easy to get immersed in our world, but I'm going to be realistic: If everyone lived like we are, we'd be in the middle ages.

Mount Angeles or some mountain adjacent to it.


Trails are very easy to follow in this National Park...a big relief from all our bushwhacking.


Another clear trail with some nice wildflowers.

Photo taken with camera resting on a log.

Enjoying a view.

Mount Olympus.

26 July 2009 - Port Angeles

We are on the Olympic Peninsula of Washington. From Bellingham, we took a series of ferries here. Now we will walk west to the Pacific through Olympic National Park.


Lighthouse in Victoria, BC as seen from the ferry.

22 July 2009 - Mt. Baker Wilderness - Ruth Creek

Today marked the 40th day since hiking began in Glacier National Park. Below is a list of all the items I am carrying (minus food), and their current condition after 40 days.



[N = New Item purchased for trip, O = Old item used on previous trips]

• Salomon Goretex Trail Shoes (N) - Completely shot. Laces broken. Large holes in both toe boxes make shoes look like sandals. All traction has worn off, making dangerous on up and down grades (which is all I do). Will buy replacement shoes in Bellingham.


• Smart Wool Socks 2 pair (N) - Despite my efforts to clean a pair each day, these each carry a few pounds of dirt, are very stiff, contain awful odors, but have no holes.


• Champion Running Shorts (O) - Three holes have developed, and they smell like sweat which shouldn't be a surprise considering they double as my underwear.


• Black "diaper" wind brief underwear (O) - Rarely wear. Brough as a novelty to make other hikers awkward. Unfortunately, I have yet to meet another hiker while wearing them.


• Rainpants (O) - 4 or 5 new holes, but they are still waterproof. Double as my only pair of pants and are effective at stopping mosquite bites.


• Columbia Raincoat (O) - Has helded up fine. Primarily serves as a barrier against mosquitoes. Breathes poorly, making it impracticle on hot days.


• Mt. Hardware Long Sleeve T (O) - Have worn for at least part of the day everyday. Breathes well. Covered in blood, tree pitch, and ash stains. Large hole on right elbow caused by fall.


• Champion Long Sleeve T (O) - Only wear on cold nights. No change in condition.


• Timex Watch (O) - Large scratch over the hour digit.


• Tilley Airflow hat (N) - Wear constantly while hiking. Stained and smelly, but no major breaks.


• REI trekking poles (N) - Completely scratched up, bent, one pole jammed so it doesn't change size, both baskets have fallen off, and a deer ate noticeable chunks out of both handles.


• REI morningstar backpack (O) - Just as strudy as when I bought it in 2005.


• Lycra gloves (O) - No changes besides odor.


• Bear spray (N) - Unused but taken out of the holster a few times.


• Rope (N) - Covered in pitch. About 1 yard was gnawed on by a deer.


• Bear Bell (N) - Missing cover. Quit using.


• Sasquatch Journal (N) - Intact but a bad journal to begin with.


• Toiletry Items (N) - Smaller quantities remain.


• Hiker Pro Waterfilter (O) - Need replacement filter. Used more than expected because Aquamira bottle/filter fell off of a cliff.


• MSR Bladder (3 liter water holder) (N) - slight leak when full


• Bungee cord (O) - good.


• Harmonica in key of C (N) - Getting rusty


• Spork (N) - good.


• Plate (N) - have yet to use.


• Bic lighter (N) - fell in pitch so doesn't stay lit long. I do not anticipate on making another fire for the remainder of the trip


• Compass (O) - I sure hope it works still. I got this far.


• Duct tape (O) - good.


• REI Tent fly (N) - 1 hole that I ducted taped up. Other parts of tent are carried by Rachel and Dave.


• MSR stove and fuel (N) - Good. Quit using. Only eating dry food now.


• Passport (O) - I sure hope its intact


• Wallet (O) - I sure hope its intact


• Knife (O) - sand in the handle


• Towel (O) - very stained


• Kelty Light Yr Sleeping Bag (O) - smells worse


• Thermarest Prolite small sleeping pad (O) - stained


• Greatland headlamp (O) - Falls apart daily


• Pink camo pocket bible (N) - Good. I'm into Chronicles.

Body Inventory

• Feet - extremely dried out and shrunk. Calluses throughout. Left big toe is black. Right big toe in pain, shoots out puss.


• Legs - there is not a single square inch that doesn't have a cut, bruise, or bug bite


• Abdomen - Backpack tan


• Arms - Large gouge on right arm


• Shoulders - looks like one huge bug bite


• Beard - Awesome. Roughly 1.5 inches long.

Cascades in the Cascades. I understand where the park gets its name.

Glaciers and cascades in the Cascades.

Cascades in the Cascades.

More glaciers.

A river that we camped next to. This is either in the North Cascades or it is the Pasayten River which we hiked in for hours.

David and Rachel taking a cable car across river.

Taking a cable car across a stream in the North Cascades.

Got to have more harmonica.

21 July 2009 - North Cascades National Park

I don't believe in luck, whether good or bad. Instead, I believe things happen. Based on the situation, there is always some probability of a desirous outcome. Lately, the odds have been in our favor....we've had plenty of times where the odds weren't.

While detouring our route due to a forest fire, we passed by a ranger cabin. The ranger viewed our plans and recommended an alternative trail that would shave two days off our detoured route and one day off our original route. We took the suggestion because we risked running out of food by going the extra two days. We had shipped food to Ross Lake Resort, and we could now resupply quicker than anticipated. We beat the odds.

Ross Lake Resort is the only privately owned entity within the Ross Lake National Recreation Area--a narrow park which serves as a buffer between the Pasayten Wilderness and the NOrth Cascades National Park. Ross Lake is more appropriately called a reservoir. While the lake's three dams were being built, a floating city was created for the construction crews. The city needed to float because the water level was always changing as the dams grew. The Ross Lake Resort is all that is left of the floating city.

We arrived at the resort yesterday evening. We picked up our food and requested renting one of their floating cabins. Typically, all cabins are completely booked for months, but one group had to leave early, creating the extremely rare vacancy. We got the cabin, beating some extreme odds.

The resort is only accessible by boat or by hiking. For this reason we were going to dine on our trail mix that we had shipped to the resort. The resort owner was intrigued by our trip, so he invited us to come to a staff party. At the party we had free fillet mignon, corn, potatoes, cake, beer, wine, and liquor, leaving us full and drunk. This was a big improvement over trail mix. Again, it seems we beat the odds.

Today was in the 90s. We were able to follow a shaded trail all day. Additionally, we walked along a glacial river. The river was so cold, the surrounding air must have dropped by 20 degrees. The shade and the cool river made the hike tolerable. We didn't luck out. You'd expect some days like this.


Rachel appreciating a food bridge and not another fording opportunity.

Rachel's foot resting on the deck of our floating cabin.

16 July 2009 - Tungsten Mine

Today we hiked into the Pasayten Wilderness Area. Like all other days, we encountered no one else, but we did find an immaculate trail that is flat and easy to follow. Even though the trail has little elevation change, it is at 7,000 feet and is completely surrounded by mountains. Unlike many mountain trails, a good portion of today's route went though meadows, free from obstructions, leaving fantastic panoramas. The meadows were all full of a sea of wild flowers, helping make this my favorite day of hiking yet. Our guidebook raves of the Pasayten, and I can see why.

While walking thorugh this designated "wilderness area," it wasn't hard to grasp the wildness of the land. At certain vistas I could see for well over 100 miles through numerous mountain ranges. From afar, the ranges were all gree with blotches of snow and exposed rock. As the mountains got closer, individual trees became visible. Closer yet, gaps formed between the trees. More or less, we are walking through a huge land of wilderness, free of man's touch for miles in all directions...or so it seems.

Tonight we are cmaping outside some old bunkhouses associated with an old Tungsten mine which is a short walk from our tent. The mine was active circa WWI. Now all that remains are some old buildings which are used as shelter by the rare passerby. Apparently, this area isn't that wild if I am camping oin an old mine. Who knew what this land looked like in the past and how many times it has been altered? I'm sure it has been mined, logged, farmed, and only recently allowed to be wild. Can it even go wild in a land so touched already?


Following a cattle trail that leads into the Pasayten.


We carved our names on one of the doors inside the shack.

15 July 2009 - Cold Springs Camp Ground

Today was a hot, tiring day. In total we climbed over 4,000 feet from our starting point. This climb was made more difficult by the intense heat from the sun which constantly shined on us, free from any obstructions such as trees or clouds. We stopped for some much needed water with the intention of hiking a few more miles today, but after a brief rest, we unanimously agreed to quit for the day. It is the early evening, and I am ready to sleep.

Our walk today was also slowed by the state of the trail. At one stretch, our guide book suggested we follow the "often indistinct" trail. I'll admit, an "indistinct" trail is more like no trail. This stretch of trail could have been avoided by taking a much flatter road which had the same endpoint but a much shorter distance. This is typical for the "trail." For example, tomorrow there is a flat, well maintained trail exiting our campground, but our guidebook leads us "high for the views," taking an extended, hillier route on a non-existent trail.

Throughout the Okanogan--the last week or so--we encountered a lot of free range cattle. Most of the time they run away, but the occasional horned bull can cause some hesitancy. The biggest nuisance is that in this drought, the cattle all gravitate to the recommended water sources, making our water highly suspect as it is covered in cattle shit. There has been so much cattle that we started calling this the PNP--Pacific Northwest Pasture. Early tomorrow, we enter the Payseyten National Wilderness Area. There should be no cattle there.


Me sharing the road with some cattle.

14 July 2009 - Palmer Lake

Yesterday we spent the day in Oroville, Washington. It marked the 31swt day since we began hiking, and it served as the first day that we took off, completing zero miles towards our route to the Pacific.

We were all looking forward to a free day. Besides giving our bodies time to recover, I was excited to do the three leisure activities I originally planned to dedicate time to this summer: writing my novel, learning the harmonica, and bettering my knowledge of religious texts. So far, I have been able to work on at least one of these each day, but with the day off, I figured I'd get to all three.

With zero miles on the agenda, I allowed myself to sleep in the latest I have all summer. Upon waking, I remained in bed and watched a mediocre TBS movie. Later, I wandered the town until I procured an older edition of the WSJ. Having received absolutely no news in the prior month, I did not mind an outdated newspaper. With the Journal in hand, I spent three hours reading every single word and then completing the crossword. Throughout these tasks, I took breaks to gorge myself with food (I had two pints of ice cream in the evening) and to taste some beer, wine, and margheritas.

By late evening I realized that I had wasted the day and had failed to spend any time on my three activities. I still had some time, but my body was so full from all the food taht I found myself incapable of anything besides rolling up in a ball and watching a documentary on Ted Kennedy.

Out on the trail, I don't have the meaningless distractions: tv, alcohol, etc... I may be distracted by the natural beauty or wildlife, but those inspire me and add value. I have yet to find much value in tv. I'm happy this trip has already afforded me 30 productive days.

Tonight we are camped along the shores of Palmer Lake. It is the first site we have had all trip that is conducive for swimming: warm water and easy access.


Sitting in Palmer Lake.

10 July 2009 - Bonaparte Lake, Washington

Today was day 28 on the trail. Despite being roughly half done, we have yet to meet a single overnight hiker on the trail. I am surprised by the complete lack of trail use, not just by PNT through hikers but by anyone. Aside from our very first day in Glacier, we have not seen a single other person hiking, period.

Even though we have encountered no other hikers, we have met more travelers than I expected. IT feels like half the people we meet are on their own adventure. I'm not sure if there are always this many travelers in a ny given place, but I've never noticed. It's probable that because I obviously look like a traveler, other travelers notice me and vice versa. Additionally, I am probably spending more time in traveler popular areas (places with clean water or washroom facilities).

For example, yesterday I sat in a city park for about an hour. During that time about four groups of people passed through the park. Two sets of those people stopped to talk with me; both sets were travelers on road trips doing tent camping. Today at a conveinence store, I talked to the one other person there. He was biking from Anchorage to Seattle.

The world is full of people out doing amazing adventures. It's easy to think that everyone is just fulfilling the status quo. I will never think that again. Instead, I'll be approaching people hoping to hear their story.


Having fun with my harmonica.

7 July 2009 - Trail 13 Kettle Range

I'm sitting on the side of a mountain. I am being pounded by hail. I can't feel my hands, and my feet have been water logged since morning. I still have over two hours of hiking in the rain until I camp for the night. Did I quit my job for this?

The rain and cold don't matter. I am sitting on an open mountainside surrounded by thousands of wildflowers--orange, yellow, and purple. I am at one of the highest points in hundreds of miles and through the clouds, I can see rain falling on at least a dozen other mountain peaks. No one else has this view. No one else can appreciate this like me. You could climb this mountain 1,000 times and never get the same weather and corresponding view that I have. I quit my job for this.

Over the next few hours I will descend from the mountain. Throughout the hike, the temperature will rise, the rain will soften, and the clouds will break up. The sun will start shining through aperatures in the clouds, heating up my neighboring mountainsides. Moisture will rise from the forest floor and schools of fog will race over mountain ridges, joining up with the other ascending clouds. Finally, all evidence of a storm will have dissipated. Only I will have witnessed the transformation from a mountaintop storm to a idyllic sunset. Only I will experience this awesomeness. Yes, I'm happy that I quit my job.

Some clouds above and below us.

Hiding from the hail.

Campsite after the rain and hail stopped and after we descended a bit from Copper Butte.

5 July 2009 - West of Northport, Washington

Dennis Dial was born in 1933 and grew up around Ogden, Utah with his parents and five siblings. After high school, Dennis got married and purchased a number of acres bordering the Columbia River outside of Northport, Washington. Dennis wasn't the first occupant of his land. For years, native Americans resided on the land. When they left, the Hudson Bay Company opened a post there. When they left, Chinese laborers--barred from living in Northport--established housing there. All these prior inhabitants left a mark on the land, but none as much as Dennis would.

Over the years, Dennis became the premiere seller and driver of snowmobiles in NE Washington. He became legendary for his daredevil hijinks such as snowmobiling across the open water of the Columbia. Dennis would introduce generations of Dials and Washingtonians to extreme adventures, many centered around his home on the Columbia.

On December 29, 2008, Dennis died. Shortly after his death, his granddaughter Marcie and her husband James moved into his house on the river. On the many acres Dennis owned, they found 58 broken down snowmobiles and scores of other artifacts left by Dennis, a number far superior to any of the previous inhabitants. Marcie and James quickly went to work cleaning up the property and converting it into an eventual poly-culture organic farm. Besides just growing produce and raising goats, they have begun to take advantage of the bounty that naturally sustains itself on the property: walnuts, morels, trout, geese, etc...

As summer came along, Dennis' family planned a party to celebrate his life. The party was set for July 4 at the city park in Northport. In preparation for the event, the family booked all the hotel space in Northport.

On the morning of July 4, three hikers entered Northport looking for a hotel room after nights in a tent. The travelers first attended a firefighter's pancake breakfast and then proceeded to find a nice place to stay. Unfortunately for the hikers, there was no room at the inn; the Dials had reserved everything.

Not and tired, the hikers retreated to the city park where they encountered the Dial family, preparing for Dennis' celebration. When Jame and Marcie saw that the travelers looked like hippies, they instantly invited the hikers to stay at their place, Dennis' former place. The hikers rejoiced and gladly accepted the offer.

For the rest of the morning and early afternoon, the hikers acclimated themselves with Dennis' land, walking the many acres, examining the goats, drinking beer, hearing stories of Dennis, and seeing the supporting photos. After a few hours, they felt they knew this man and his family. They showered and went to the life celebration.

The travelers spent five hours at the celebrations. They became well acquainted with most of the family. There was Dallas who married his second wife's daughter. There was Lorraine who got so hot in her black outfit that she had to hose herself down. There was Heather the flight attendant who married Dennis' brother's long lost Honduran son. There was the band "Free Whiskey" who were called "Whiskey Free" by their Mormon groupies. There was Maggie who worried for the travelers like they were her own kids.

After five hours the travelers had met the family, consumed sufficient alcohol, and decided to head back to Dennis' in the back of the suburban of some guy name Dave. Dave kindly shared numerous beers with the travelers, but they needed to rest up for 100 miles of hiking over the next four days.

The morning the travelers quietly exited Northport, continuing on their journey. Though there stay was brief, they will all remember Dennis and the celebration of his life on July 4, 2009.


James showing us his goats, Stardust and Moonbeam.

Larry showing off an old snowmobile.

3 July 2009 - East of Northport, Washington

We are in a groove. Twenty miles is coming much easier each day. We have scaled countless mountains and have walked numerous anonymous roads and trails. As I grow accustomed to the long days and the climbing, I feel more certain that this is a life I could live. Not even half way into this journey, and I am thinking of future potential routes to walk.

Nothing is more basic than hiking. You rest when you are tired, and you stop when you find a nice spot. There is no concern of property. I am losing any hesitancy to just camp anywhere. For example, tonight we are camped amongst the ruins of an old ranch. I imagine this is public land, but even if it isn't, I doubt anyone else will pass through this area for weeks. Who should care if someone puts up a tent and enjoys a view?

Today we hiked a rural road that despite being public was gated off. Near the end of the road was an apparent spring. Being another scorching day, I set off into some brush to find the spring. I heard some water flopping--which I assumed was the spring spurting out from the ground at an uneven tempo. There I saw the bush move. I stopped approaching the spring, and a moment later, a bull moose came running out of the bushes. He ran up a hill away from us, and then we all sat and stared at each other. He eventually grew bored of our staring contest and retreated into the woods.

1 July 2009 - Metaline Falls Washington

Backpacking helps remind you what is truly important. When out on the trail for an extended period of time, you completely forget about the stresses that typically keep you up at night. None of those matter, and they never should. Instead, everything boils down to what truly matters.

A few days ago we lost the trail while hiking up a mountain. Originally I was frustrated that we weren't going to make good time up the mountain side. When it became evident that the climb would take all day instead of just 2 hours, my priorities completely changed. All that really mattered was that I had some water. It didn't matter how long it took to climb or where I would potentially have to sleep. Those issues would work themselves out. I just needed to find water.

We had planned on hiking 150 miles in 7 days, and for this reason we each carried about 7 days worth of food. When the trail became nearly impassible, causing us to greatly slow our pace despite many long hours on the trail, food became the only concern. I did not care about anything else. We have since revised our route, allowing us to pass through another town to resupply (Metaline Falls). I just needed food.

The other night it was getting dark, and we were still out on the trail. I was exhausted and needed to rest. I was more than happy to lay in a swampy field. It didn't matter that I got wet and dirty. What really mattered was rest.

I love spending time in the wilderness, and I love exploring by myself. Despite this desire for solitude, I realize that the best part of all my travels has been the people that I have encountered. The people have a bigger impact on my life than any beautiful vista. Companionship is a requirement.

It's too easy to worry about things that really don't matter. When it comes down to it and your life is on the line, all you really need is food, drink, a place to rest, and some friends.

Besides the clothes that I am wearing, I have been caring a sleeping bag, water filter, water bladder, some food, lighter, stove, tooth paste, a rain fly, some extra socks, and compass. In the last 18 days of hiking, I have not thought of a single other thing that I would need. Instead, I've been trying to think about what I can jettison on the trail...I don't need all this stuff to be happy.


Gun club or golf clubs?

Chili burger in Metaline.