Yosemite, Wildfire, Tahoe

Posted on June 27, 2015

A lot’s happened since we last wrote. Like, a lot. So bear with my scatterbrained writing here.

After saying goodbye to our Fresno family (who, again, drove us back up winding mountain roads), we hit the trail and found that it was much more populated than when we left it. With Father’s Day weekend around the corner and summer about to officially begin, we encountered many people out for a night or two in the woods. The section of trail between Sequoia/Kings Canyon and Yosemite is also popular with dog owners (no dogs in National Parks), so we met lots of dogs, too.

After Devil’s Postpile National Monument, the PCT and the John Muir Trail (JMT) diverge for about 15 miles. We’d been instructed to take the JMT through this section, which was bumpier terrain, but much more scenic, and we weren’t disappointed. Alpine lakes were around every turn, each a destination in itself. The chain ended with Thousand Island Lake, which, you guessed it, had lots of islands, and brought us to Donohue Pass, the entryway into Yosemite.

Rosalie Lake, along the JMT near Yosemite.

Rosalie Lake, along the JMT near Yosemite.

That day we crossed paths with 75 hikers, only a handful of which were thru-hiking like us. It was a bit of a shock, seeing as we typically run into about 10-20 people a day out here. As one fellow thru-hiker put it, “you start to feel entitled after a while.”

So, feeling somewhat entitled, we entered Yosemite. The mosquitoes were bad, as anticipated, but not intolerable, and we had an easy walk along the river into Tuolomne Meadows. There we picked up resupply boxes (which had been ardently defended by hiker-helping post office employees) and treated ourselves to a night at the Tuolomne Lodge, which is comprised of canvas tents with cement floors, beds, and wood-burning stoves. We avoided the gorgeous but crowded Yosemite Valley on this trip, so staying at the lodge was our “Yosemite Experience.” During our breakfast there, we dined with an older gentleman who’d been the piano player at Yosemite’s Ahwahnee Hotel for 40 years. When asked if he still liked coming to the park after all this time, he smiled and said “River still sounds good!” We agreed.

Waterfall near Glen Aulin / Tuolomne Meadows.

Waterfall near Glen Aulin / Tuolomne Meadows.

The remaining 60 miles within the park were typical of Yosemite – meadows, big slabs of rock, waterfalls – but were also rugged and just plain hard. Even with our Sierra-trained legs, we still struggled through days with steep ups and downs, loose rock, and, of course, les bugs.

We soon crossed the 1000-mile mark, and, feeling triumphant, proceeded up an unexpectedly epic ridge walk. The views were outstanding, as the picture below from our campsite (literally 10 feet from the tent) will attest:

Veggie catches a sunset from our (so far) favorite campsite.

Veggie catches a sunset from our (so far) favorite campsite.

There was snow on the backside of the ridge, even in this dry year, so we cautiously proceeded to Sonora Pass, where we picked up a resupply box and learned that a large (and, as of the time of this post, still growing) wildfire, the Washington Fire, was raging nearby. There were many rumors flying about the severity of the fire and the impact it would have on the trail (the nearby town of Markleeville lay in its path, so highways were being closed), but the official word was that the trail remained open. Others who had come from the north reassured us that we might see smoke, but that there was no real danger on the PCT. Fortunately, that was our experience, too. Some haze one day, but otherwise entirely clear. In the distance during the day, we saw plumes of smoke and steam rising from a few ridges over.

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View of the Washington Fire from the PCT, near Ebbetts Pass.

After sidestepping the fire, we were surprised to find an abundance of wildflowers in a Land of the Lost-esque landscape. It was surreal:

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In sum, it’s been an unusually diverse 10 days. We now sit with our friends Pixel and Shazam in South Lake Tahoe. Appalachian Trail AND Pacific Crest Trail alums, they know just what hikers need on a day off. We’re grateful to be with them, and eager for what’s to come.

Love,

Zack (Square)

Into the High Sierra

Posted on June 17, 2015

The Sierras live up to the hype. Lar and I both agree that, in the past eleven days, we’ve encountered the grandest scenery we’ve ever seen, and likely ever will see. There’s a humbling beauty and, at times, a sheer awesomeness up there that’s difficult to describe. I can understand how this territory, along with others like it, has inspired generations of mountaineers, and why the allegiances of those who know it well are so loyal.  We opted to carry eleven days of food out of Kennedy Meadows. With heavy packs and high altitude our daily mileage dropped significantly, but this had the effect of forcing us to more deeply savor our surroundings. And what a contrast to the desert: almost immediately we were surrounded by rivers, streams, even lakes. It’s a record dry year for California, but nearly every source listed was flowing up high. We spent the first few days meandering through meadows, dodging spot thunderstorms, and smiling.

A few nights in we camped at Chicken Spring Lake, a gem with a large rock wall jutting out from the water. The next morning we crossed into Sequoia and Kings Canyon National Parks and entered another world. For us East Coasters, this place felt like a best-kept secret. Our days became focused on high mountain passes – Forester, Glen, Pinchot, Mather, Muir, Selden – which were more technical than the smooth desert hiking we were used to. We climbed most of them in some kind of weather, usually hail or rain, and navigated what (relatively) little snow remained on the backsides. Most of the passes hovered around 12,000 feet, with Forester pass topping out at 13,200 (the highest point on the PCT) and Mt. Whitney, the tallest peak in the continental U.S. bringing us to 14,505 (we summited as a side trip, because, common, you’re right there!). At those heights the landscape becomes pretty stark and imposing. We camped most nights below treeline, where we still woke up with frost on our tent, even in June. The temperamental mountain weather kept us on our toes and always looking over our shoulders. We’d be sweating at noon, snowed on at 3:00, and drenched by rains in the evening. One harrowing thunderstorm caught us descending Muir pass, which has a long and gradual slope. We sang aloud as the sky became entirely dark gray and booming (like, BOOMING) thunder bounced off the mountains. Sitting on our packs in a small grove of trees, we saw hail destroy the surface of a lake like a million marbles in a bathtub. I was scared, but I was a respectful kind of scared. More like a recognition of being very small in a land that’s very big.  

 It hasn’t been all so dramatic. Most of the time we’re still just walking and doing our thing. Wonderful family met us at Vermillion Valley and whisked us away to Fresno for creature comfort, constant snacking, and rest. We’ll be back on the trail shortly, heading into Yosemite, where we’ll meet lots of summer vacationers and hide our picnic baskets from bears. Might sound like a broken record here, but if you haven’t checked out our Instagram yet, please do (instagram.com/veggieandsquare). We’ve been posting pictures regularly and want to share them with you.  So much love from this unique and special place,

Zack (Square)

The End of the Desert

Posted on June 16, 2015

Hello world…It’s been awhile! We are happily in Fresno, California spending some much needed time with family and food. A lot has happened in the last 18 days, so, let’s start at the very beginning (a very good place to start).

Not a bad view to wake up to.

We had a wonderful down day in Tehachapi and thoroughly enjoyed the kindness of Trail Angels Dalton and David (and their two very pettable poochies), who made sure we were well fed and in good company before sending us back to the trail. Knowing we were going into the wilderness for 18 days felt daunting, but we left Tehachapi with happy hearts and full stomachs.

The climb up from Tehachapi was hot and long. We were carrying 7 days of food and 6 liters of water each, so our packs were very heavy. We considered it “training” for our soon-to-be 11-day food carry at the start of the Sierras.

Oh, hi there!

In our last 7 days and 136 miles of the desert, we got a proper quintessentially “desert-y” send-off. We had some hot, hot days with long siestas, and the sunsets over the desert floor were awe-inspiring every night. After not having come upon any in the previous 570 miles of trail, three rattlesnakes greeted us (and we kept our respectful distance). And water sources were few and far between; they served as the natural gathering places for thirsty hikers. The most hikers we have seen in one place on the trail was gathered around the watering hole out of Tehachapi.

The office water cooler.

We savored our last days in the desert and the beauty of the transitioning landscape, knowing we were climbing to the long-awaited Sierras. On our last desert night, we camped near a river – a strange and welcome sight after so many dry miles.

We crossed mile 700 and hiked a short day to the Kennedy Meadows General Store, where our fellow hikers were lazily strewn around the large porch. All incoming hikers received applause and cheers as we haggardly arrived at the dusty entryway to the Sierras.

We picked up our 11 days of food (thanks, Mama E!) and our bear canisters, took an outdoor shower and spent most of the day talking shop with other hikers and eating junk food. Though we didn’t make it into town, it was just what we needed before the change of scene.   Now, Zack will rhapsodize – in the style of John Muir – about our first 11 days in the Sierras…

Love and miles,

Lara (“Veggie”)

The In-Betweens

Posted on May 28, 2015

Good morning from Tehachapi, CA. We’ve covered just shy of 200 miles in nine days since our last post, which means there’s much to share. At this point, most hikers have their eyes fixed on the Sierra Nevada, which they’ll reach in about a week. But, between the National Parks and bucket-list hikes there’s…stuff. A lot of it. People live there. Mountains rise and fall there. We love discovering the oft-overlooked in-betweens, which make up the majority of the experience out here, and to which I dedicate this post.

After a pleasant stay in Wrightwood, we summitted Mt. Baden-Powell, named after the father of the World Scouting movement (boyscouts). The monument at the top informed us that a scout is, among other things, “…clean and reverent.” These two qualities are only sometimes attributable to thru-hikers. Near the top, we also touched a 1500-year-old tree.  Descending through thick fog, we ultimately caught the clouds settling between bends of Hwy 2. It was magic. A few days later, cool and damp weather brought us the unusual opportunity to cook dinner with friends in a privy at Messenger Flats. Ryan and Greg here, making the most of it: Once out of the cloud, we pushed through to Agua Dulce, a tiny town that’s home to Vazquez Rocks (which you’ll undoubtedly recognize from Star Trek, New Girl, or Roswell). We’re typically thorough planners, but found ourselves resupplying around 6:00 PM with no certain campsite in mind for the evening. It would be about three miles until we were out of town and back in the hills, and, even then, a flat campsite wasn’t guaranteed. We weren’t looking forward to it.

In the checkout line, a stranger approached us: “Are you hiking the Pacific Crest Trail? We’re having Mexican food tonight. You should come over for dinner.” Roz was in town for her niece’s wedding. She invited us to spend the night at her brother and sister-in-law’s place and join the extended family that was crashing there. We were still in disbelief as we set our tent up in the back yard where, the next evening, a wedding reception would be held. We were still in disbelief as we showered, did laundry, and dined with some of the best people you’ll ever meet. “Can two strangers camp and clean up at your house the night before your daughter’s wedding? Of course!” If any of you are reading this, thank youFueled by this incredible generosity, we cruised to another hidden gem: Casa de Luna, the home of trail angels Joe and Terri Anderson. The house is known as “a place where we can all be insane together,” and must host close to 1000 hikers a season. Taco salad for dinner, a dance party in the evening, and pancakes in the morning. I’m pretty sure Terri gives a sincere and supportive hug to every hiker who passes through. Our journey of in-betweenness continued with a road walk through the community of Lake Hughes, where we ate fried green beans at a biker-themed bar, The Rock Inn, and then to Hikertown, an odd collection of buildings resembling a movie set from a spaghetti western. We picked up food and filled up on water there, then proceeded to walk along (and on top of) the LA aqueduct for the better part of a hot, flat, dry section through the Mojave. Here’s our fellow hiker Minty Fresh on the pipe: We contemplated the preciousness of water as we wove our way between towering wind turbines all the way to Tehachapi. And, as if we hadn’t had enough trail magic this stretch, a new trail angel, Dalton, was waiting at Hwy 58 to zip us into town, take us to the grocery store, and give us the lay of the land. We’ll likely be having dinner with him and his partner tonight. Another on the long list of wonderful places we’d never thought we’d be. The trail takes us out of ready internet access for the next few weeks, so it may be a while until the next post. Until then, check us out on Instagram for the occasional picture. We’re thinking of you.

Love,

Zack

We’ve Got Rhythm

Posted on May 18, 2015

Greetings from Wrightwood, CA! We are in this lovely mountain town enjoying our first “zero” day free of stomach bugs and blisters. Once again, we’ve found ourselves in a wonderful oasis surrounded by the kindest folks (Trail Angels everywhere!), eating lots of food, and putting our feet up. It feels good!

photo 2After we last checked in, we happily got into a real groove. From Big Bear Lake to Wrightwood, we hit our stride, and we both felt strong at the same time – the first time that’s happened out here. After a rocky (but still fun) first few weeks, this week solidified that we are right where we want to be: on the PCT.

photo 3Nevertheless, these last 103 miles were interesting for us. Let me count the ways…

1. We were able to put in big miles, averaging over 20 miles a day over our last five days. And dare I say, it felt great! We are feeling stronger and better fueled than we were on our AT hike. The end of stomach bugs for us both means we are also feeling sturdier and healthier. “Trail legs” have arrived!

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2.…As have the famous “trail appetites!” While we aren’t totally voracious all day long (yet), we are eating a lot more, and never quite maxing out. There are worse things!

3. Now at mile 369, we have passed the halfway point of the desert, the longest distinct section on the PCT, which runs for 700 miles. (Click on the image above to see a desert panorama video.) In areas we have been told are unbearably hot, we have had mild – even cold, wet and windy – weather. Clearly, we have really lucked out in this regard, and it has made for most excellent hiking. (And any rain that California gets is good news for all!)

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Our trail home.

4. The weather has also smiled upon us in another way – we’ve been in prime position for the unseasonable storms that have come through recently. While snow (yep, snow!) dumped on both Big Bear and Wrightwood last week, we were in a canyon (near natural hot springs, no less!) and only got light rain while we were cozy and dry in our tent. We hit some snow on the trail yesterday as we got back up to around 9,000 feet, but it was nothing that these two hardened Bostonians couldn’t handle.

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Snow, y’all!

5. Some final highlights from the last few days: Hiking along the ridge of the gorgeous and eternal Deep Creek; Watching the fog move in and out to dramatically reveal – and then obscure – the beautiful and snow-capped Mt. Baldy (aka Mt. San Antonio); Meeting Coppertone (PCT NOBO 2006) for some Trail Magic and finding out he also “angel-ed” our AT 2011 friends Pixel and Shazam during their PCT thru-hike last year; Spending an afternoon at McDonald’s with our fellow “hiker trash” (The fast food restaurant was the last official water source for the 28-mile stretch into town.). Oh, and the sunsets. The sunsets never get old!

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So, all in all, we are having fun! We continue to meet hikers with inspiring and fascinating stories, and around each corner is a view you couldn’t dream up if you tried. We feel fortunate to have the opportunity to take it all in, day after day.

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Until next time,
Veggie (Lara)

PS – We haven’t been able to update the photo page of our blog yet, but we post regularly on Instagram, so keep your eyes on our journey there!

Big Ups, Big Downs

Posted on May 12, 2015

Aloha from Big Bear Lake, CA. We crossed Highway 18 this morning and, serendipitously, caught a ride into town within seconds. A forewarning about this post: blogging today from my phone, so formatting may get a bit wonky.

We last checked in from the adorable mountain hamlet of Idyllwild, where we connected with our good friends Brad and Alice for a few days of hiking and companionship. They made it all the way from Somerville, MA just to spend time with little old us – we were honored.

Walking out of town, we immediately started ascending. Up the main drag. Up the Devil’s Slide access trail. Up, up the PCT. Still up farther all the way to the top of Mt. San Jacinto, the second tallest peak in Southern California at 10,834 feet. Quite the wake up for our friends (and us), but worth it for the sublime view of the desert floor 9000 feet below. To the west, we watched clouds gather lazily below.

After a few minutes of reveling at the summit, we quickly descended to try to find a campsite before dusk. Our ultimate digs weren’t the most comfortable, but the sunset was unreal: The next morning we loaded up on water for a 20-mile waterless stretch down the (admittedly) mind-numbing Fuller Ridge. Mirroring the climb up Jacinto we descended interminable switchbacks all day long, forfeiting 9000 feet of hard-earned elevation. Brad and Alice remained in good spirits, even as blisters and soreness set in, and managed not to obliterate me after I insisted we tack on five laborious miles through beach sand at the end of the day. We must have looked like lost puppies as we zig-zagged our way around wind farms and beneath highway overpasses.

With unseasonable desert rain in the forecast, we huddled with about thirty other hikers that night at the home of Ziggy and the Bear, trail angels who live outside of Cabazon. From puppies to sardines for an authentic thru-hiker experience.

The next morning we opted to “zero” in Palm Springs to escape the thunderstorms. I’m not sure if it ever did open up, but Veggie was captured by a stomach bug that would have made hiking ill-advised anyways. We were grateful to be in the company of friends, experiencing the comfortable ghost-town that is a Palm Springs golf resort in the off-season.

We parted ways the next morning with Brad and Alice, who would round off their vacation at Joshua Tree and elsewhere. I’d just read the lines in On the Road about the bittersweet feeling you get when you drive away from someone and they get smaller and smaller in your mirror. Both couples were off for new adventures, but I immediately missed our time together.

The next three days were a battle for Lara, who was still weak and having trouble keeping food down. We crawled through eight miles one day, and made 13 the next. Gotta say, that girl has resolve. Whenever I thought we might bail, she rallied and kept moving. By yesterday afternoon she was crushing again, up steep inclines and along the ridges for a 24-miler. Today at lunch she destroyed plate after plate of Thai food. I’m the luckiest. End of story.

One final story worth mentioning: a raccoon stole our food bag right out from beneath our tent vestibule while we camped at the luxurious Whitewater Preserve. Dragged it clear across the campground while we slept. Fortunately nothing was lost/eaten, so I can laugh now, with admiration, at the image of two stealthy paws nabbing our loot without making a sound. Hats off to you, sir/madam!
With more than 10% of the trail under our belts, we’re still seeking our rhythm. Hopefully we’ll find it on the way to Wrightwood, but, in the meantime, loving the surprises!

With love from town,

Zack (and Lara)

Idled in Idyllwild

Posted on May 5, 2015

Hello from Idyllwild, California! We happily arrived this morning after a short hike in, and we’re granting ourselves our first full “zero” day here tomorrow. It feels absolutely luxurious to be off our feet – not to mention all showered and laundered up. After 10 days, we finally smell nice!

We've still got a long way to go to Canada, but we're enjoying the trip!

We’ve still got a long way to go…

The last few days have been a great start to our journey, but they’ve also brought up some interesting trail musings. Thus, the theme of this blog is Hikers’ Conundrums: Little Dilemmas for the Road. Here are the things that we spend too much time thinking about:

1. Rest up OR put in more miles?

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There’s nothing quite so appealing as putting our feet up after we’ve been on them all day, but taking the time to rest – whether it’s for a shoes-off snack break under a tree, or a full zero day in town – is hard to commit to when the trail awaits. When other hikers talk about “putting a few more in” before the end of the day, it’s tempting to strap on our packs and follow suit. We’ve been putting in some big miles (perhaps pushing too hard), and we’ve decided it’s time to rest now. The miles can wait until Wednesday.

2. Carry a lot OR a little water?

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Water is heavy. At about 2 pounds per liter, it adds a lot of weight to an already heavy pack. But in the desert, the days are hot, and given the extreme drought, the sparse water sources aren’t as reliable as they’ve been in the past. Thankfully, there’s a trusted water report with all of the information about available water in the desert, so we can hike assured that we know where our next water will come from. But all in all, it’s always better safe than sorry, and that means lugging a heavy, heavy, water-filled pack.

3. Where to sleep?

When we want to cover a certain number of miles in a day, we always seem to face the same little issue. Just before we want to camp – but a little too early – we see a dream campsite. We hesitate for a moment, look longingly at it…and then pass on. When we pass by a campsite, we never know if the next one will be as wonderful – or if there will even be a worthy one in the next stretch. It’s a little leap of sleepy faith, and – thankfully – “the trail [usually] provides.”

4. Where to take a siesta?

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Taking a siesta at Trail Angel Mike’s place. Shade, music, food and friends. No dilemma here.

It’s painful to hike during the heat of the day, but it can also be hard to find shade. A good shady spot – like the perfect camping spot – is a bit of a gamble. Is it just around the corner, or a few miles away? Is it worth hiking a bit longer in the heat to find the perfect spot? These are some hefty decisions. Shade is gold, y’all.

5. Hike during the day OR at night?

During the hot, hot heat, lots of thru-hikers have been opting to hike at night, either illuminated by the [mostly] full moon or by headlamp. Thus far, we’ve decided that night hiking isn’t for us. We prefer waking up early and taking in the views. (We may change our tune if the temps get too high, or if we hit a monotonous section. We’ll keep you posted.)

6. What to do when the trail is closed?

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This was the big dilemma and hot topic of the week on the trail. Due to wildfires in the region two years ago, the PCT is closed for 15 miles to help the land recover, which it has been particularly slow to do given the drought. So, here are the options for hikers (1) Hitch into Idyllwild from Mile 154.8 on the trail, missing 10 open trail miles and passing the 15-mile closed section; or, (2) Hike the open 10 miles and take HalfMile’s Unofficial Alternate Route, which adds an additional 5 miles of total hiking, but gets you on your way by foot; or, (3) Road walk all or some of the way; or (4) Some creative variation/combination of these three.

We’ve said it before, and we’ll say it again: hike your own hike. For us, we decided – in what is called “purist” fashion out here – that we wanted to walk the whole way. So, we took the less popular route: #2. And we are sure glad that we did. It was tough on the feet, but we took in some amazing views, and happily made it to Idyllwild all the same.

Square and Hornbuckle take the road less traveled.

We’ve only been here a few hours, but we are loving this town. We’ve tweaked some of our gear, tended to our minor ailments, met friendly folks, and eaten lots of raw vegetables. What more could two hikers ask for? 

Love,

Veggie (Lara)

Commence!

Posted on April 30, 2015

Greetings from Warner Springs, CA! We’ve just completed our first stint through the desert and are happily taking a “near-o” day here at the community resource center. The center is staffed entirely by volunteers from April-May and is truly an oasis in the desert. Showers, air-conditioning, computers, and camping under a big oak tree. What more could a hiker want?

“So we’re really doin’ this then?”

Our first few days on the trail have been full of surprises, most pleasant, but some humbling. Renee and Eduardo graciously hosted us in San Diego and took us to the trail in the morning for our start. It was a cloudy day (and a rainy, windy night – unusual for the desert this time of year), which made for smooth hiking over the rolling hills. We ambitiously cruised 20 miles our first day out, carrying lots of water and soaking in the panoramic views. Already this hike is unlike anything we’ve experienced in terms of views. Because there isn’t much foliage, our walk is filled with constant vistas of the sweeping arid landscape. Big, big mountains ending abruptly on the scalding desert floor. It’s stunning. We’ve watched sunrises and sunsets most days.

We’ve also been surprised by the smells here. Lar rightly counted the scents of sage, rosemary, and thyme. The only thing missing is “parsley”…(Humor is a necessary companion on the trail, even of the punny variety).

Near Mt. Laguna

Near Mt. Laguna

It gets hot here. Like real hot. And, surprisingly, cold at night. It’s important to respect the temperature fluctuations and plan your day accordingly (most people take a siesta between noon and 3:00 or 4:00 each day, hiking in the mornings and evenings when it’s cooler).

It’s also dry. Especially since California has been in a drought for the last four years. Our mileage is dictated by the availability of reliable water. We hiked through a 33-mile waterless stretch before arriving in Warner Springs, which culminated in a 28-mile hiking day, our longest ever. Feet hurt, but it was beautiful, and the morning/evening hiking was pleasant overall.

Hello cactus.

Hello cactus.

There’s an amazing trail community here doing everything they can to ensure people have safe, enjoyable hikes. Though we always bring enough water, we’ve come across the occasional cache to get people through tight spots. Today in Warner Springs, a sheriff gave us a ride to the post office. And the hikers themselves seem to be in good spirits, developing their rhythms and feeling more confident each day. Our favorite person we’ve met so far? A 67-year old thru-hiker named Margaret, who shuffles along with her sun umbrella and catches little wisps of shade throughout the day. Her stamina is admirable, and her demeanor is always sunny. In hard moments, we’ve said “just be Margaret.”

Next update should come from Idyllwild in a few days. We’ve been posting pictures regularly on instagram, so check us out!

Grateful to be here!

Love,

Zack (and Lara)

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Sup.

All Packed Up

Posted on April 22, 2015

Greetings from the sunny South! After a long and wonderful road trip visiting friends and family down the East Coast, we’ve arrived at our home base – Atlanta, Georgia. Our last days in Somerville were filled with friends, food and fun (the way life should be!). We stayed up late packing our remaining dinners, smoothies and snacks, tinkering with our gear, and undertaking a major house clean before we packed up all things trail-related and began our drive southward. It was hard to say goodbye, but also wonderful knowing that we have a home and a community that we love waiting for us at the end of the trail.

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Final food preparations

Now that we’re less than 72 hours from beginning our trek, it’s time for some philosophical/existential/spiritual musings. (Warning: Things get a little mushy from here on out, but I think you can handle it!) Here’s what’s on our minds as we pack up and prepare for whatever is to come:

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The ultimate backpack piñata!

Hike your own hike. We picked up this old adage from our days on the A.T. Its takeaway is: You can make big plans, but you never know how things will play out once you’re on the trail. And you can easily compare your experience and your decisions to others’, but at the end of the day, you’ve got to hike the hike that’s right for you. Amen!

This too. This is a favorite saying that I picked it up from a wonderful book by Dani Shapiro. It can be taken to mean, “this too shall pass,” which has always been solid wisdom for difficult times, of which I’m sure we’ll encounter many in the coming months. But more than that, I think of it along the lines of “this too is part of life;” “this too is the present moment;” “this feeling is part of my experience, too.” I hope to carry the wisdom of this simple phrase with me in each step – even as frustrations, anxieties and joys inevitably take us on an unpredictable journey of emotions and experiences.

Be here now. We’re a little bit older and (arguably) a little bit wiser than we were four years ago on the A.T. We’re hoping to be more present to life itself on this trail – to take moments each day to reflect and bring ourselves into the present. It’s easy to get into your own head while walking for hours on end, but we’re looking forward to trying to bring ourselves back to the here and now. After all, there’s nowhere else we’d rather be!

Embrace gratitude. We feel fortunate to go on an adventure like this; we are already thankful for the wonders of nature that await, and we’re so grateful for the people who love and support us. Plus, everybody knows that grateful folks have the most fun!

You take yourself with you wherever you go. This one is all my dad. For as long as I can remember, he’s imparted me with this wisdom, and every day I find it to be true. Running away from our problems and fears never works because, after all, you’re still you beneath the running. In the same vein, fearing the future and the things we can’t predict doesn’t do us any good either – we’ll take ourselves there, too…one step at a time. So, no matter how many miles we walk, we’re taking ourselves with us – for better or worse.

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Food stash

Ok, that’s done! If you’re now envisioning us as blissfully mindful yogis heading out into a pristine world of meditative bliss – think again! I’m sure these mantras will be much harder to keep in mind when we’re faced with the inevitable sunburn, indomitable heat rash, and omnipresent, stubborn mosquitoes, but we’ve got to start somewhere, right?! As for now, the sun is shining, the birds are chirping, and it’s time for lunch!

Gratefully,

Lara (Veggie)

Westward Ho

Posted on April 5, 2015

Getting the trail-legs back. See you in another life, brother.

It’s been four years.

After completing our Appalachian Trail thru-hike in 2011, we mused about finding another adventure. Turns out, even with all that time in the woods, we still love to walk. It took us a long time (I think) to admit to ourselves what we’d known since we descended from Katahdin: that, given the chance, we’d take the plunge and attempt another thru-hike out west. So, after lots of will-we-won’t-we, some (understandable) anxiety, and, finally, a long bout of pure excitement, we find ourselves just a few weeks away from our next adventure: the PCT.

Despite the popularity that came with Wild, the Pacific Crest Trail has possessed a best-kept-secret status; well-known (and well-loved) by few thousand people each year, but, to the masses, mostly undiscovered, especially for us folks back east. Frankly, all of the National Scenic Trails have this “hidden treasure” status in varying degrees, which is either a perpetual disappointment or a precious gift, depending on who you ask. While the cat’s still not entirely out of the bag, more hikers seem to be waking up to the idea that the PCT is almost too good to be true. Count us among them.

In a nutshell, The PCT stretches approximately 2,660 miles across California, Oregon, and Washington. Its southern terminus is in Campo, CA, just a few paces from the border with Mexico. Its northern terminus is in E.C. Manning Provincial Park, BC (that’s in Canada, yo!). In between, the route passes through 25 national forests and 7 national parks, and through or near dozens of towns. Biomes include, but are not limited to, desert, alpine, and temperate rainforest. The highest point on the trail is at Forester Pass in the sierras at 13,153 ft. The lowest point is near Cascade Locks, Oregon, at just above sea level.

And you can walk all of it on a contiguous footpath. If you find this idea enticing, wait until you see the pictures.

We plan to begin our hike in late April. We understand that many unforeseen obstacles can drive even the hardiest hikers off the trail, but, if we’re lucky enough to remain injury free and in good spirits, we estimate it’ll take us about 4.5 months to hike the PCT in its entirety. We invite you to follow along.

A snowy first shakedown.

A snowy first shakedown.

It’ll take us a few weeks to post from the trail itself, but, in the meantime, check back for updates about food, gear, and logistics. As always, we’d love to hear from you with any questions, words of wisdom, or book recommendations. Contact us!

Happy Trails,

Zack (Square)