Life after the Fire and Back to Shasta/Dunsmuir.

        The morning of the Etna fire, the hikers, firefighters, and locals all returned to their respective abodes. In my hiker garb (yellowness incorporated with backpack), I walked to a local coffee shop to check out the pastries, for even though I just had a country breakfast of bacon, eggs, sausage, pancakes, coffee, and hash browns, I was obviously still pretty hungry. I decided to buy a maple bacon glazed doughnut and share it with Leaky, when I heard someone call me by my first name. "Who knows my real name?" I thought to myself, because I don't remember anybody knowing it, unless they were around when my parents when they visited, hesitant to call me "King Street". I don't blame them because, it was weird hearing my real name, so it must have been weird for them to hear my trail name. "Ben!" the mysterious voice claimed. I turned around and saw a big white van with "CCC" labeled on it. A few dusty, and tired looking young adults came out of the van and this is Etna, let me remind you, kind of in the middle of nowhere northern california.

"Ben, what are you doing here?" Asked the man, I focused my eyes, squinting from across the road. It was my friend Felix Navarrete from Cal State Long Beach. Felix and I both worked for the Alliance to Save Energy while we were in college, and met at conferences across the state every six months. We were both being geared towards working at the environmental career level right out of college, and the humor of the fact that was that we were both in Etna, under these conditions, and it probably both crossed our minds, like "what happened to us? Don't you have a job or something". Felix was working for the American Conservation Experience (ACE), under the Civilian Conservation Corps (http://usaconservation.org/) doing trail maintenance on and around the PCT. The ACE workers get to spend months at a time working outside, sleeping outside, and putting their effort to good use. I applied to ACE right after college and got offered a job but turned it down to start what I thought was my career. It seems to have come full circle in a way...Felix had to go, and I hobbled back to the Alderbrooke Manor.

When I was picked up in Dunsmuir, CA, Ben and Jessica Gerber (refer to the entry "The Magic at Dunsmuir") they told me that if I needed anything from them while I was within an hours drive, they would pick me up, so thats what I did. I left a message telling them that my shin splint had gotten really bad, and in my voicemail, I sounded frazzled due to the morning's events, and asked them if they could once again, host me. A couple hours later, Ben called me and told me he could pick me up. I wanted to tell him all about the fire right away, but hesitated. I told a bunch of hikers that I was going to take a few days off and that I would hopefully see them all later. Within an hour, Ben arrived in a black truck and as we drove, we passed by the smoldering pile of rubble that was the victorian home, and returned to Dunsmuir, CA. I stayed off my feet two days as I rested in a real bed, ate non-dehydrated food, and watched a few movies with Rosie the Bloodhound at my feet. This was paradise for a hiker, and it was funny to have been in their home for a second time.
      My leg was feeling great. I iced it, elevated it, and compressed it. All the proper moves and motions. I was able to walk with absolutely no pain! I thought to myself that maybe there was no fracture. Maybe it was just a really bad shin splint? Hopeful, on the second day, I rode into the city of Mount Shasta, CA with Ben as he went to work. I had some groceries to purchase and with a few hours to kill, so I strolled around the city. Mount Shasta is a funny place. If you have been there, you would think there was a Rainbow Gathering in town due to all of the transients there. While I roamed the small town, I invented a game to keep myself busy. I called it "Hikers, Homeless, or Hobos". The goal of this simple game is to identify whether or not someone is either a hiker, homeless, or a hobo. Since all three of these categories of people look disheveled, carry backpacks, and are hanging out on the street you have to look at the finer details make the right judgement call. If they have a dog with them, they are probably hobos. If they are missing teeth, probably homeless. If they have incredibly huge backpacks, they are probably not hikers (hikers have surprisingly small backpacks), but you would be surprised to see how closely we all look alike, and smell alike for that matter. This kept me busy for a while. And yes, there actually was a Rainbow Gathering in town, go figure. And if your curious about why Mount Shasta attracts such characters, just quickly glance over this: http://www.lemurianconnection.com/category/about-mt-shasta/
     Just as I was about to get a ride back to the house with Ben Gerber, my stomach started to churn a little bit. I met up with him outside of the outfitter store he worked at (The 5th Season, Outdoor Equipment), and asked if I could use the bathroom. Remember when I had that "apocalyptic gas" before the fire? Well, it was back, or something like it. I ran into the store, and Ben asked me if I thought it might be girardia (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Giardia) and I thought it was just hiker indigestion. Boy was I wrong... I came out of the bathroom about 10 minutes later, and Ben was sitting on the shoe bench just looking at me with an expression of "wow, that sounded intense, and yeah, you probably do have giardia".
     I was in denial of it pretty quickly. Getting giardia for a hiker is like loosing a game of hoops on your home court. Its embarrassing, and means your out of the game of hiking for a while if its really bad. We jumped in the car and the ride took only ten minutes, but my stomach was already in a rush to make it to their bathroom. This was bad news. I didn't want to take more time off the trail but it might have been necessary. Shin splint matched with giardia, could it get worse? I used the bathroom at least 5 more times that night until my system was completely empty. At least I wasnt throwing up (looking at the bright side of things right?). Ben said I should go to the clinic tomorrow at get meds before I could go back to the trail. Ben and Jessica wanted me to be as comfortable as possible, to stay as long as I needed. They were hikers a few years ago so they knew the routine. They wanted to provide and give back as much as possible from all that they received. I felt unconditional love from them, and I thought it was incredibly special to see them for a second time, considering I was a stranger at one point. The next morning, Jessica took me to the hospital, where she worked as a nurse, was able to get me in quickly and set me up with her favorite doctor. They were going to take a stool sample and maybe even a blood test but I just looked at the doctor and said "Look dude, if it barks like a dog, looks like a dog, and smells like a dog, its a dog right?" He got the point and said "yeah your right, i'll just write you a prescription". "SCORE" I thought, because the idea of getting a stool sample in the condition that I was in just seemed like a messy waste of time. We picked up my prescription and Jessica offered me to stay another night but the trail called for me and my leg was feeling no pain what so ever. We drove an hour back to Etna, where we passed the burned home, and I eerily walked back up to Alderbrooke Manor, and visited the hikers who were still around. I thanked Jessica a hundred times for everything they had done for me on my first and second visit to Dunsmuir. They were real angels, true spirits in this world. If there were more people like them, the world would be a better place. I aspire to have that level of kindness and generosity in my heart. I know I will see them again someday.

Did I mention that the house in Etna that burned down, was a meth lab? 

More on that in the next post.


~King Street

The Tragedy at Etna

It's been a few weeks since I've written. Much has happened and my life on the trail took a unexpected turn. Even though I am no longer on the trail, there are a few things that i want to share with you. There are still untold stories from my travels on the PCT that I need to to be told.

In early August, I made my way through the Russian Wilderness and the Trinity Alps. I walked miles along exposed ridges with soaring Osprey and bald eagles. The weather was pleasant and the cold springs lovely bubbled out of the earth. The elevation changes were minimal. I was feeling fantastic as each day provided new ways of learning. Nature's cathedral brought upon a level of spirituality that was new to me and I accepted it. I hiked with a wonderful pack of hikers. We often camped in the same sites and shared mornings of coffee and breakfast before the day started. I felt at peace in Northern California as the Oregon border loomed ever closer, a serious accomplishment. 

I felt stronger than ever. I pushed my barriers as I finished three consecutive 30 mile days. The town of Etna, CA, my next resupply stop was 40 miles away and I was gearing up to complete 120 miles in 4 days. My body needs at least 4 miles to fully warm up. My knees, ankles, shoulders, hips, calves, and heart rate all need proper time to warm, to work efficiently. I love it when I could feel each part of my body reach an optimal level for long days of hiking. But this day was different.
Instead of getting stronger and more fluid, a deep displeasure woke in my right shin. I have had hundreds of body aches that came and went on the trail, but nothing ever persisted more than a few minutes, maybe an hour at the most. This pain wasn't going anywhere and deep down in my heart, I had to consider many unpleasant outcomes things. Thoughts raced through my head regarding the possibility of having to leave the trail, and it made me nervous, real nervous. 

The strength of a through hiker comes in his/her ability to adapt and react to all situations. 

My shin got worse, and I still had 40 miles to get into town, this was not good news. I took an anti inflammatory as the pain only got worse. It was getting dark, and I needed to make a call on where I would sleep, but in a bizarre twist, there was not one feasible camp site around. Pain was shooting down my leg more than ever and it was getting dark. I didn't want to sleep directly on the trail but I was persistent and found a tiny tiny tiny flat spot, just long enough for me to cowboy camp under with some tree cover, on the side of a cliff. As I dozed off into the night, I dreamed many dreams and occasionally awoke to watch my friends, the galaxies above shine and remind me how lucky I was to be out in this world, and not another. 

As pleasant as my sleep was, I awoke with my olfactory senses first. The word "smokey" comes to mind first. I looked out from my perch along the mountains ridge and saw slippery gray fingers creeping around the mountains. Forest fires were near. Without panicking knowing that I was only a days journey from Etna, I began to walk. The pain in my shin immediately came back with a fury, but since I started hiking early, I would be able to make decent time even if I was going slower. The smoke drew nearer and nearer and blotted out all of the beautiful views. I limped all day, aggravating my injury, watching the smoke get thicker and thicker. Airplanes for the fire service roared over head; the first external entity I had seen in a few days.

A few miles before I reached the road, I met a German man who saw my dirty feet after I took my shoes off and told me "your felt look like dey belong to negroes". I gazed silently at him and muttered some nervous response back to him. I didn't want to act too offended because I realized he was my ride into town. He drove me in his new Subaru down to tiny town of Etna. I was so relieved to be in a car as I stunk to high heaven and had a raging case of hiker hunger. 

I finally made it to Alderbrooke Manor which belonged to an old sweet Russian lady. The manor was a Victorian bed and breakfast and the hikers had their own "hiker hut" which was equipped with showers, laundry machines, beds, and if you wanted to camp in the beautiful lawn which was shaded by sixty foot oak trees. I set up my tent and rested in the hammock for an hour before I rode a bicycle down to Rays Food Place and purchased an entire rotisserie chicken which I equipped with a liter of chocolate milk and Maui onion chips. It was a complete meal, which I devoured, wiping off the chicken grease out of my beard.

An enormous quantity of hikers arrived in the smoke veiled afternoon, the largest we had seen in weeks. For hikers, a gathering of 20-40 is an assembly, which involves story telling, laughter, and beer. Hikers look after each other, as our attitudes are unique and equipped with positivity and hope. 

The entire lawn was covered in tents, a lovely scene to my eyes. 

As the evening transitioned into night, I had trouble sleeping. I stared up at my tent ceiling for hours. My shin splints were bad but that couldn't have been the source of my restlessness?

 It was midnight when my guts began to yell out with what I like to call "apocalyptic gas". I just farted for hours. Literally, every five minutes, for three hours. So much that I couldn't sleep at all. It was 3am before my eyes finally began to shut down when one more time I was ripped out of my sleep and had to sprint out of my tent to the nearest bathroom. I barely made it...out of the tent, meaning I didnt make it to the bathroom. I ran to the nearest and darkest corner, and barely avoided shitting my pants. I stumbled in the dark back to my tent by 3:30 and could finally rest. The night however, was far from over. 

Now things get a little more serious...

I remember reading The Lord of the Rings: Two Towers as a kid and there is a line where Legolas looks up at the evening sky and states "blood was shed on this night". It's a very uneasy feeling to experience, but I knew something deeply wrong in the cozy, one street town of Etna, CA. 

The smell of dew on alfalfa and cattle filled the air. It was 4:30am. The first thing I heard was the shrieking of horses and the cries of stressed cattle. "How rude" I thought to myself as I had only slept an hour at that point. My eyes felt bloodshot and wished that the loudness would stop. Then the shouting of cowboys trying to calm the beasts of burden. The hikers began to stir, trying to assess the situation like searching for the light switch in the dark. "EVERYBODY WAKE THE FUCK UP, THERES A FIRE!" yelled hiker Acid Glasses. Zero to sixty in one second my brain went. I jumped out of my tent and saw a red glow.

My heart began to race once I could see the flames. Adrenaline coursed through me as I tried to figure out whether the entire mountain was on fire or just this place. The flames grew in size, it seemed every second. My hands trembled with the most fear I've experienced in my life. I remember how hard my hands were shaking as I attempted to pack up my tent and all of my belongings, all that I needed in life. Amongst all the fear, a tremendous sense of pride overwhelmed me as I saw my fellow hikers all packing up under two minutes! By the time I stuffed everything in my backpack, we concluded that it was a house fire, and the entire  town was not ablaze. I was able to finish packing my bag with a steady hand. I ran out onto the street and began to feel the heat from the flames coat my body. Other hikers approached the flames as we all stared in horror as the ancient Victorian become less and less recognizable. Fire trucks zoomed down the street as neighbors wiped the sleep from their eyes as they emerged from their nearby. There was a father and his two kids, all crying as they sat on the curb across the street. I guessed they were the tenants of the house, watching as all of their possessions turned to smoke and gas. My head suddenly jerked towards the house as two enormous booms shook the sky as the nearest car exploded, sending chunks of metal flying into the air. This caused major panic amongst the townspeople sending them stampeding down the street like scared wildebeest running from a pack of lions. I had to dodge it in order to not be run over. The second boom resulted from the combustion of the water heater. I turned my head away to avoid the sudden crescendo of heat as the entire 3rd floor imploded on itself, sending plumes of dust and smoke into the air. I had had enough, and decided to retreat a little further away.

Just as the first light of day set the backdrop for the crumbling home, rumors begun to waft with the smoke that someone was actually inside the house as it burned down and hadn't emerged. Someone was burned alive as we watched the fire with weary amusement. Apparently one of the tenants had run into the house looking for his cat. As I learned this fact, I stared in horror, imaging what it must be like to be inside the house as the heat bothered my skin just from the other side of the street. "Blood was shed on this night".

Large chunks of bark fell from the ancient oak trees and the fire phased to small embers and eventually just a large smoldering pile. Firefighters searched for at this point would be a pile of bones, or probably less. A hiker named Razor broke the silence with a call for coffee and breakfast. A group of hikers silently nodded in agreement and headed over to the most suitable cafe. Firefighters, hikers , and locals all walked together without smiles nor frowns, just silence. We sat at the restaurant table and drank our coffee. The time was 6 am. Conversations started up again. Acid Glasses (awesome hiker name) looked up and found just the right moment to speak up. "Hey everyone, can we just go around the table and say what we are grateful for?" I have never been a person who would immediately try to contribute such a thing but I felt like i HAD to be part of this. I silently awaited my turn as other hikers mentioned their health, that they were alive and had not burned like that poor fellow earlier that morning. Some mentioned that they were happy to be on the trail and not in an office/cubicle. The general consensus though, was that we all had each other. That was the most important thing of all for me. To be with your fellow hikers in this time of need is unique. Its the family you may never have had.

The Magic at Dunsmuir

We thought about it all day. 

We perceived something fantastic. 

We were granted exactly that. 

Moonshine and I were separated from our group that we dubbed "The Magic School Bus". We were on the edge of town, well, 28 miles from town but we hiked at an incredible rate in order to make it to I-5.

We agreed that we wished someone would rescue us, take us away to a better place: feed us, do our laundry, and  give us beds to sleep on. Couldn't it happen just this once? 

Approaching mile 1500, we got a feeling it would happen. As we passed the marker, a blue cooler full of sodas awaited us. We saw a note from our friends who passed through a few hours ago. Just as I reached for a root beer, a Mercury station wagon with a bloodhound sticking its snout out of the window pulled up. I didn't even see the driver but I waved.  A beautiful young woman emerged from the car and walked towards us. Moonshine and I looked at each other with agreement: this is the manifestation. We introduced ourselves as we found out Jessica was the patron of this cache. She immediately offered us a ride "anywhere". We told her our main goal was to be granted a place to sleep free of charge and possibly near a grocery store. Jessica paused and examined the filthy hikers in front of her. The bloodhound named Rosie looked up at her, acknowledging the internal debate. "Ya...I can host you" she said. 

We all walked to her car and drove away, with the windows open to release the hiker stench. This olfactory exposure was not new to Jessica, she was a through hiker. 

She asked us what we wanted for dinner, and then immediately suggested a big pot of spaghetti and meat sauce. "Oh, and maybe some brownies and ice cream"! she exclaimed. Moonshine and I just looked at each other. Are we dreaming? 

We went from the dark woods ruled by bears, to a super market stocked with glory for all. "Ooo and maybe eggs and pancakes for breakfast?" she also asked. "We should get at least two tubs of ice cream, what's your favorite flavor?" I almost began to cry from the plethora of emotions I was feeling. 

Again, I questioned reality. 

"Oh and I don't want you paying for any of it" she said. Sometimes i guess you go with the flow. 

We arrived at her home, and she pulled out towels for us to use and showed us the beds we would be sleeping in...beds. The bathroom was stocked with organic soaps, shampoos, and lotions. The warm water washed away the last 5 days of hiking and a warm towel dried off the newly moisturized skin. I looked in the mirror and saw a clean version of myself that I so rarely see. I was given pajamas to use while my laundry was collected. The smells of comfort food reached my nose from the kitchen. Earlier in the day, I had mentioned how wonderful a meal of home cooked spaghetti would be, and it was on its way. 

Enormous portions of food emerged from the kitchen: Spinach salad, Alaskan brand IPA beer, baked garlic bread, and pasta filled the empty spaces on the preset table. 

Again, I questioned reality. 

 It was then that Jessica's husband walked into the home. A handsome young man who also hiked the PCT, his name was also Ben. We all sat at the table together and ate the delicious food. "How about a movie tonight? Are you guys dying to watch any movies that recently came out?" asked Ben. "To think of it, I wouldn't know what was out because we've been in the woods for so long" I stated. He agreed and said that we should do as we please, if that meant go to sleep or watch a movie on Netflix. I wanted to watch a movie so bad, from the comfort of a clean couch with an adorable bloodhound to cuddle with. As I browsed Netflix, I noticed the movie Kumare, which I heard about from the Podcast Radiolab. Just as I put it to play, more wonderful smells from the kitchen emerged, this time it was brownies, equipped with mint chip ice cream. We watched the movie with dessert and all went to bed. Ben and Jessica, King Street and Moonshine, all slept soundly that night. 

We woke up to the delight of fresh and hot coffee. Jessica wasn't finished with presenting her version of abundance. 10 scrambled eggs, avocado, 2 types of cheeses, salsa, salami, fruit, and steamed tortillas adorned the table. I hate to say it but, again, I questioned reality. 

We ate it all. 

Jessica recently found out she was pregnant and a new chapter in her life was beginning. As a through hiker, she had been experienced similar generosities from strangers and wanted to provide the same for us. We drove into Shasta City, where she had to run some errands and work a short shift at the hospital as a nurse. Moonshine and I ran some errands of our own in this strange town. A Rainbow Gathering had just ended and dozens of transients filled the streets. All of them resembled through hikers and we played a guessing game called "hikers, hobos, or homeless". The simple game consisted of guessing what category a young smelly backpacker belonged to. 

Jessica picked us up a few hours later and we consumed the rest of the ice cream, topped with bananas and brownies. Sadly, we had to return to the trail where we belonged. But first, we washed all if her dishes, cleaned her kitchen, and organized the room we rot in. 

We were dropped off at the trailhead, said our goodbyes and stepped back into the wooded realm of hikerdom. 

Look Closely into the reflection

Recollection from Forester Pass

Double Time Delta

In the late 1970s, a man named Bird-Dog was part of an elite Marine Corp Troop. The troop was dubbed "Double-Time Delta" because they ran twice as fast as any regular platoon, with their 40 pound packs on. Bird-Dog is now 55 and hiking on the PCT. I ran into Bird-Dog over 900 miles ago, but it wasn't until one faithful afternoon that we crossed paths again, just before South Lake Tahoe. 

Ironically, my parents met Bird-Dog before I did. When they visited me at Hiker Haven, they picked up a hiker, and brought him to the Trail Angels home. It was him. 

When we reconnected somewhere around South Lake Tahoe, I heard loud foot steps coming down a hill. A man was running my way, it was Bird-Dog. I told him that there is a buffet with our name on it, one hitch away. He accepted my invitation. 

From Nebraska, he worked as a mechanical engineer and we found out later had an interview with Ecology Action (my first job in Santa Cruz).

We had a similar hiking pace. We knew it too because when I realized that hiking 20 miles a day wasn't going to get us to Canada fast enough, he said sure lets go faster. 

Sure enough, we started with a 22-mile day, then a 23, then a 25. I was impressed with our pace. We made it to the next town, Sierra City. A beautiful place near the CA gold rush vein. We ate extremely large burger(s) and spent the night in the back of the Red Moose, another trail angels home. It was fantastic. 

I wanted to meet our hosts, so I went up to the only woman who wasn't a hiker and asked "excuse me ma'am. Are you the sole proprietress of this here fine establishment"? She paused. "Why yes indeed", with a smile. I told her that my hiker garments were in shambles and asked if there was some thread to stitch my here wounds. She told me it would take her only a few minutes. She sat me down at the dinner table, assumed I was hungry, due to my being a hiker and what not and gave me the extra baby back ribs left over from dinner hour. 

I looked at Bird-Dog with a big smile. He also, got a few on-the-house ribs. 

That evening, a hiker named Toots-Magoots was celebrating her birthday and her husband dubbed by hikers as Aloha joined us for the celebration. He brought out a pin the tail on the donkey game and after the game was over, brought out 10-half gallon bins of gourmet ice team. Aloha, a man of rather large stature and build, seemed to dance around the porch, throwing softball-sized scoops of ice cream into a dozen hikers bowls. By the time I was finished with my  poppyseed lemoncake flavor, the glided over to my bowl with out me saying a word and refilled it. 

Stuffed with ice cream and satiated with trail gossip, Bird-Dog and I retired to our respective tents, and dozed off. Awakening near sunrise, we received our breakfasts and hung around Sierra City, swimming in the Yuba Rivet til noon. 

Just as I got out of the water, I saw some  hikers make a commotion, pointing in my general direction with a look that was a juxtaposition of awe and panic. Redirecting their gazes to the water, I saw what they were looking at. A 3 foot snake was swimming right through the river, and exited the opposite bank. Just another day on the PCT I suppose. 

Night of the Living

Cottage in the woods. Sounds nice. A water source near by, shelter, cozy nights, hot chocolate, laughing with loved ones. That could be all the things the image of a cottage in the woods might evoke. 

But what if you missed your connection. 

What if you never made it, and were exposed to the elements? How would you make it through the harsh nights? What if you were alone? Luckily, I was with Bird-Dog, but we were not alone. 

Cowboy camping is always a treat. You get a view of the stars, the breeze, and the first light of day. In a tent you get less, but the illusion of safety can be settling.

I had just woke up at 6:25am, a late start. Bird-Dog was already up and stirring about by 5:30. A crashing sound broke the morning. My eyes directed me south about 30 feet away. Again the booming noise came through the trees but this time, a piece of timber went flying through the air. A low, deep, growl and a blur of brown with two black dots in the front confirmed the brown bear in front of us. Time stood still, but I wanted out of there ASAP. I threw gear into my bag all in a state of chaos. I checked the bear's way again. It was eating insects from the shredded tree. If it could destroy a tree so easily, it could tear my fleshy body with one swipe. 

This bear had no interest in us. It clearly knew we were there. If it could sense insects inside a tree, our smelly selves were probably unappealing. We walked out of that sight with a wild glow in our eyes. 

"We saw a bear this morning"! We told everyone we passed. "Oh yea, we saw four last night" replied a hiker named Sagitar. I asked if any of them were tearing trees to shreds, but he declined. 

Two nights later, this time in my tent, I had my flashlight ready, as well as some jitters. Bird-Dog and I hiked 26 that day and camped next to Duck Soup Pond. As we drifted into sleep, i heard loud noises around 2am.  I was sure that Bird-Dog was asleep and I was to face whatever was crawling around our tents. A flash of light from his tent signaled his awareness and he called out my name. The sound was right next to my tent...there were at least a few of the creatures. I flashed my lights. Deer.  It was just a few deer. I fell back asleep. 

Two hours later, another stampede woke us up. We were on some deer trail. It sucked. Not a lot of sleep that night...

I cannot end on a sour note however. Life has ups and downs, so does the trail. One day you can hike all day feeling on top of the world and the next morning you can't wake up. Balance my friends. 

Sometimes I have to remind myself: 

"today I intend to be more optimistic. When I think of the future, I let go of pessimism" 

4th of July on the PCT

How can I explain that I had the best 4th of July if my life with total strangers? Well, it just happened. 

I was coming out of Mosquito Hell with Rocky and T Rex into the gorgeous Sonora Pass. The sky began to fill with clouds, dark and dangerous clouds. I ran down the trail to the mountain pass where the highway would be. I would need to hitch to a small redneck torn called Bridgeport that was 40 miles away. I had a package at the post office which closed at 4 pm. It was 2pm and I had two hours to catch a ride and get my package. The PO would be closed on the 4th and I didn't want to wait Til the 5th to get the box. 

I got to the highway at 2:15. Caught a ride just as grape-sized hail began to fall. The hail was so heavy that the car had to pull over off road under trees to escape the pounding and potentially broken windshield. 

We get to the PO at 3:30pm and I find out my new shoes didn't arrive. Oh well. 

Since it was 4th of July weekend, motel rates were high! I called up a few places and they mentioned $139. I cannot afford that. Finally the rain stopped and a motel told me they had a trailer for $ 80 and I accepted. My own trailer with a temperpedic queen size bed. 

The holiday was just around the bend. Would I be alone?

I went to the grocery and found 2 hikers that were unknown to me. Two Swiss hikers that spoke of hot springs on the outside of town that they were going to stay at. 

I told them I would meet them there on the 4th after I be checked out of my hotel room. 

The next morning i woke up to the sound of a cattle parade and loudspeakers. I checked out of my awesome trailer and made my way to the town square to buy a 32 oz milkshake which I finished quickly. 

I began walking to the outskirts of town to an unlabeled dirt road. The hot springs were up this steep dirt road I did not want to hike on my day off. A few cars passed me on the way up and waved hello. Then, some people began shooting assault rifles into the mountains at little targets. A sheriff rolled by and gave them no trouble. I continued to walk up the road. It was beginning to sprinkle. Then out of nowhere, two ATV riders appear and offer me a ride. Before I know it, I'm off-roaring in the mountains on the back of this hell ride. I arrive to the hot springs and there waiting is several naked couples enjoying the alkaline hot springs. I set up my tent off in the sage and joined up with the locals. I got offered free beer and food. I met people from Santa Cruz a couple from LA. we were all laughing and joking around when the rain started pouring. What did we care, we were in a hot spring with nude people. 

More people arrived and asked me tons of questions about the trail. It wasn't until the two Swiss hikers showed up and joined the tub. This was forming into a fantastic evening. 

The town of Bridgeport was hosting a firework show. They fundraise for the show every six months so you know they will put on a good show. 

What made this night unforgettable was the sunset. The storm blew over but caused rainbows and beams of light. It's indescribable but I took some photos. They are uploaded in the previous blog entry. 

We were in awe. We couldn't discuss anything. For a nature lover, it was the pinnacle of experience. I have never seen such a sight. 

The sky got dark and the firework show started. We watched fireworks from out natural hot tubs. We told stories and shared our moments in nature that night. It was the best Fourth of July you could ask for and I met these amazing people just hours before. I took an ATV ride to get there and a quick hitch back to the trail. I was hoping to catch my comrades who I left two days before and within ten minutes Rocky and T Rex are in sight. Reunion completed 

Fourth of July

Long Story Short

Hey Everyone,

It's been so beautiful I haven't been able to blog. 

The high Sierra is an amazing place. The PCT joins the John Muir Trail for 200 miles. The scenery is incredible. We climbed up massive mountains every day. It's like climbing the second tallest mountain twice a day. there were no bears to be seen so the canister that I carried doubled as a chair. 

Living at high altitudes is great for crisp weather, low Mosquitos and marmots. 18-22 miles a day. 

I was on my last leg of food and on my way to Vermillion Valley Resort (VVR) which was still 14 miles away. The rain started pouring on me and the Mosquitos started picking up. I had a few massive rivers to ford and after crossing Evolution Creek, I checked my GPS and was no longer on trail. That was not good. I was lost in the rain by myself. I crossed rivers and walked up other trails. Finally I got back to trail and began to run the trail. Yes that's right, running. The forest moved so fast by my eyes.  Flashes of green and blue as I ran on adrenaline and an empty stomach. 

I found the trail head and got to VVR to find hikers drinking beer. I got dry and found a free beer and joined a group around a fire. Then the chaos began. 

A JMT hiker stumbled into V V R and from exhaustion passed out face first into a pile of rocks. The rocks split his face open and he was vomiting blood. Hikers were the first on the scene and helped the man sit up. Rocks stuck into his eyes and caused his face to distort. It was horrible to watch but I had to watch in order to remind myself what can happen if things go bad. Finally some ambulance came and took him away. Hikers were covered in blood and got free beer from the resort which did nothing to help. Hikers saved the day. 

A few days later I arrived to Mammoth and we piled 6 hikers into a Motel 6 room. Only cost me $15 but I slept on the floor. Oh well. 

Mammoth is beautiful in the summer. Very peaceful and different from snow season. 

I hiked with Dog out of mammoth who mentioned foot pain. Two days in, Dog confirmed that his foot had a minor fracture and left trail from Tuolumne Meadows. I miss Dog. 

That's when I paired up with Rocky and T-Rex from Portland. They are a cool hiker couple that are very positive and friendly.

We entered mosquito hell together. When I say hell, I mean it. Hundreds of thousands flying blood suckers in clouds. We could not stop hiking without getting bitten. I have never had so many bites. Over 100!!

You wake up to make breakfast in a cloud. You make dinner in a cloud. It never ends. At night, there would be around 200 just on my tent and the buzzing noise of their flying kept me awake. 

Deet and mosquito nets can only do so much when they can bite through your clothes. 

"So what time do you want to do Whitney tomorrow"?

Dear Friends,

The person you knew as Ben Oberhand is no longer here. Having walked 702 miles through the desert to arrive in the Sierra has brought a new person to the table. I left my desert home in order to live above 11,000 feet in the most pristine mountains in the world. The air is thin and hard to breath for most, but after being here for a while, it feels like home, and a home I don't want to leave any time soon. 

This is how it happened.

I had an amazing visit from Lindsey in Kennedy Meadows, but it didnt seem like the Kennedy Meadows that I thought it would be. It was a pretty place, but the promise of the Sierra loomed in my mind. I wanted to get going. I watched my comrades go off into the pines without me and only wondered what it was like. I finally got my chance after Lindsey and I had our farewell and bolted with an extremely heavy pack that included a bear canister and a week of food. The trail was a steady but easy climb and water was on my mind. The desert taught me so many things. It showed me the importance of strategy (survival), how to treat your body, and how to hike your own hike. I was so conditioned to the desert lifestyle that every water source i saw in the first 10 miles, I stopped and chugged a liter or two. It was my lucky day because the cicada started to scream and I just happened to read about them earlier that day. They were loud but it seemed like a beautiful thing to me, I don't get to walk into a cicada breading ground too often. The trees began to get taller and provide more shade. The mountains began to appear with snow caps and they brought joy and smiles to my face. I was alone however, I did not hike out with anybody so I had a 31 mile day in the Sierra to myself. 31 miles is a very long day, and with a heavy pack, i felt the energy coursing through my veins to get me caught up with Kitten and Busted. I found them at the end of my day, and we rejoiced as our group was back together.

Kitten then said "So what time do you want to do Whitney tomorrow?"

I paused. "What? Whitney is already tomorrow?" I asked. Kitten said it was and that we could leave at this or that time. I still had to let it settle in. We were climbing the tallest mountain in the lower 48. Its 14,500 feet to the the top. 

"We should sleep up there, wouldnt that be cool?" Kitten asked. 

This was an exciting proposition. I hadnt even considered that, just the old up down, ya know? 

We arrived at the beautiful Crabtree Meadows, the base camp for Whitney

Crabtree Meadows, Whitney basecamp

and saw other hikers coming down from the mountain with a glow in their face. I wanted to know what that was about. That mysterious glow. It was excitement and adventure that we were waiting for.

We figured that to sleep on top of Whitney, we needed all of our clothes, no tent, and some food. That made our bag lighter and eased our minds. We had been mountain climbers at this point, but this was a whole different situation. It would take 4 hours to get up. The air get thin, the sun gets intense, and its a race against time. As soon as the sun goes down, your in freezing temperatures at high altitude. We feared not, because this is what we were prepared for. I wanted it more than anything. 

The climb started with a small river crossing. I knew that when I would cross that river again I wouldnt be the same. It was 4 miles to guitar lake.  

Guitar Lake, not my photo, but a good representation. 

This was one of the most epic things I have ever seen. The water was pure snow melt. You rarely get to see this type of water in your entire life. Believe it.

There were marmots everywhere. They are probably the coolest large rodent ever made. They are my favorite animal on the trail. They seem silly, docile, and communal.

Typical marmot, they are so cool. I like to think that they have brunch on Sundays and drink mimosas. 

I got up to the top in 3 hours. The air was so thin and talking was difficult. As I approached the cabin, on the top that is used as a shelter from the elements, an overwhelming sense of accomplishment filled my mind. I just climbed the tallest mountain in the continental US. It was 15 degrees, but no wind, and the sun was setting. The oranage and pink sky reminded me of sherbert. I was covered in sweat and needed to get out of the wet clothes or I would freeze. I was so happy to be up there. The mountains below seemed like little hills with snow that you could just step on. We slept in the cabin that night, which was just a stone room with a wooden floor, no beds but I was incredibly grateful for it. We woke up at sunrise and watched the sky once again get filled with oranges, yellows, and blues. The cold air warmed up as the sun peered over the eastern deserts and shined upon the victorious hikers. I still couldnt believe where I was, so I made a cup of coffee and ate breakfast. 

We stayed on top of the mountain til 8 am, and it took us 3 hours to get back to crabtree meadows. We were no longer on the PCT, but the John Muir Trail (JMT). The JMT is full of magic and wonder. Its a trail that is a few hundred miles long but will highlight the most magnificent sights known to man. We rested a few hours and took off on the new trail and crossed various rivers with swarms of mosquitoes, more amazing meadows, and a few mellow climbs.

I slept in a rocky meadow that was littered with bear poop, but I feared not. I knew that the next day would be full of challenges, but how can you be fearful when you just slept on top of Mt. Whitney? There was two challenges however: Forrester and Kearsarge Pass. These are big beautiful mountains you must cross and a whole lot of climbing. 

Forester Pass - there was not a lot of snow but you get the idea. We cross the "v" in the middle. Its a 2500 ft. climb. 

Kearsage Pass- Unmatched beauty

I managed to get over these passes into Onion Valley and visit bullfrog lake:

Bullfrog Lake

So you can see what happens to a person when they see these things on foot in 2.5 days. You will never be the same.

I must log off for now. Back to paradise. 

Dante's Inferno, Miles 600-650

I originally wrote this on paper. Here it is.

6-4-13

So this is the limit of every human being. I am sitting in the partial shade of a Joshua Tree. Its 1:30pm. The shade is constantly moving. I have to move with it. It must be 15-20 degrees warmer on the border of the shade. Its safe to say that I am in the middle of nowhere. Mile 619. This is the driest, harshest place yet. I try to stay positive, but all I can do is vent my thoughts. Its keeping me going. I have 3 liters of water left for 14 miles of triple digit mountain climbing. fuck. I am alone. Believe it or not, my spirit is high. I should be fine. I am prepared for this. Big clouds are in the distance. I wish they were here. Hopefully no snakes try to join my shade. I have been in more extreme heat in israel so i actually feel calm out here. I am lucky to have that experience.

Joshua trees are spiny, but they provide some shade. I know this point would come where 3 feet of shade is all the land would offer. It seems impossible to hike at this hour. The shade is moving again. I have had to move 5 times now to stay in it. The ants cant stand it either, they are almost in a hypnotic sleep state. We all need to conserve our energy. As crazy as this place is, its beautiful. You cannot see this as an obstacle. it is simply the earth that we call home. Thinking of it in a negative way, only makes it worse.

Over and over i repeat to myself: "Today I choose to be more optimistic. When I think of the future, I drop pessimism."

I feel that this quote has saved my sanity for the last 48 hours.

Tomorrow, there is a 20 mile gap with no water, followed by a 16 mile gap with no water, then a 15, and then another 20.

I push on.

The Shifting Sands Mile 500-600

This is exactly what I expected from the Mojave. It sucks. I slept in a ditch next to the CA Aqueduct. There were broken computer monitors, tires, and I found out that I slept next to a dead goat carcass. No joke. I reiterate, this place is famously nasty. Nothing to like except that there was a 15 mile stretch that was FLAT. We have not encountered "flat" yet, but it had no shade. So fucking hot out there. Finally, I made it to a bridge with a water cache and shade and we were trapped under the bridge to ride out the hottest part of the day. I also had a pretty intense run in with a rattle snake that morning so everything looks like snakes when your looking out for snakes. It doesnt put you at ease.

The night I slept by the goat carcass was a test for my spirit. The winds were around 65mph and roared over my head at night, keeping me awake. At one point the wind shifted 180 degrees, and began blowing sand into my face. Not a fun night. There will never be a worse place to sleep on the PCT, so thats good. At 6:00am, a pick up truck pulled up to us and stared for a while. Also not cool. I got hiking in the morning and never looked back.

Sorry for no pictures, they were on my phone which died.

Held Up in Hiker Haven, Casa De Luna, Swollen Ankle, Infected foot

So, I can finally write on my blog again, my phone broke so I have to recap these details. This is where I left off...

Hiker Haven was amazing. I was so tired when I arrived and was able to fully recover with food, beer, rest, more beer, more food, little rest, and some amazing times with Dog, Hot Mess, Sassgorilla, 30 Pack, and G-Dub. I stayed 2 nights and had visits to REI which was creepy because it was minutes away from where I grew up in Northridge. I went from desert isolation to LA. My parents and my uncle were able to meet me so that was really fantastic. Whenever family visits, its rejuvenating. Thanks Uncle Eric, Mom and Dad!

Then I pressed on to the next day with more energy than I have ever had in my life. All of that rest and food was so helpful. Bursting with energy. My pack was lighter because i replaced my old sleeping bag with a lighter and warmer one.

Regarding all of that energy I had, I flew up mountains, and ran down them. I passed hikers one after another and didnt need to break. By 18 miles i started to feel a little tired when I got to the famous Oasis Water Cache. I pulled off my shoes to let my feet breathe and started picking at a healed blister at the bottom of my feet. It was thick skin so I thought that using my knife wouldnt be necessary. But as I pulled the skin, and entire new section of healed skin ripped off! I was bleeding fast and it had a very high chance of infection. Dust blew into the wound and I would have another 6 miles to the next trail angels house: Casa De Luna.

Casa De Luna is considered the biggest party spot on the PCT. I hitched into Green Valley (a fire recently after I left swept through that town!) and a crowd of drunk hikers partying in the front yard roared with cheers and cat calls as I rolled into the driveway. I found out that every hiker that arrives at Casa De Luna gets this welcoming. Its awesome. There was a huge BBQ and every hiker gets a plate of nachos the size of their head. I had 2. The rest of the property was in the back. A huge hill covered with manzanita trees, providing around 50 camp sites. I finally checked in on my foot wound and it was indeed infected. This meant no hiking for a few days, and I found a great place to rest, at least during the day when the drinking was moderate.The next morning I awoke to a mighty foot infection and swollen right ankle. Like I said, i had the prefect place to rest.

The driest, ugliest, hottest section (250 miles) lay ahead. Lets rock this.

Anthology.

First of all I would like to say RIP to my girlfriends grandmother Flo. She died just a few days ago and she was so important to Lindsey, truly a second mother. Lindsey had to take a flight to LA from Santa Cruz to stay with family and was planning on moving back to LA this summer to work and live with her grand mom. I am sorry Lindsey that I am not more available to you when u need me most and my thoughts are with you.

I have climbed three mountains in3 days. I didn't stop in Wrightwood but instead continued on towards mile 400. Christian the Lion (CTL) now goes by "Viking" but I still call him CTL. It's just the two of us now, kitten decided to press on without us and that is fine. I will miss our hobo dance sessions.

After I ate those 3 dble cheeseburgers from McD, my stomach cramped up so hard. I was in unbelievable pain climbing up a slope and had to stop frequently. Meat, cheese, and bread form a stomach glue with plenty of calories but when it's of poor quality, DANGER DANGER.

The nights have been a little chilly. There is no point of setting up a tent when wrapping myself in the tent is actually warmer.

I can't believe it's already been 3 weeks and 390 miles. My pants however, have almost completely ripped to shreds and I'm walking in spandex underwear most of the time. It's about 4 days from the nearest REI and I will be getting some higher quality trousers. I am no longer plagued by blisters. It's almost a miracle. My calves and quads are bulking up and my waist is smaller than ever. I have not been this weight since the 10th grade...

I am smelly beyond belief. I have not had a real shower with warm water in 170 miles. I bathe in a river occasionally but I still smell no matter much I wash. The dirt under my nails never goes away and the salt stains on my shirt come back the minute I have hiked a few miles. Speaking of miles, I have just about achieved "hiker shape". A 20 mile day is now considered a blessing. 25-27 mile days are always confusing (how did it come to this?).

2 days ago we were about to summit Mtn. Baldwin-Powell, (I kept calling it Collin-Powell) and it meant ~3500 feet in 1.5 miles. This is very hard for those who need to gauge it. I had just hiked 9 miles and arrived at the Grassy Hollow Visitor Center and I was running LOW on energy. My battery felt so empty, and easy hiking was a burden. CTL was getting ready to go and I said "NO MORE TODAY". He smiled and said that it was a good choice. He got a ride from he super sweet warden and came back with snacks from hiker boxes, steaks, and bratwursts. Our evening was set. Oh and some tecate :)

This entry is being written over several days. That's just the way I'm going it. So this piece is written a few days after the first part. I have run out of snacks. This is not good. I have plenty of meals but they all require cooking and I am also low on fuel. The good news is that I have reached mile 400, 418 to be exact. I'm at a fire station somewhere in LA county...today was a 25.5 mile day and it was one of the hardest. Since I have run out of snacks, I can't get the calories I need without cooking. In order to make it to precious water sources, we need to hike so cooking is not an option. This has caused me to hike slower than usual but still achieve the long miles. This will change real soon as we are marching to the best trail angels on the pct; the Saufleys. They do your laundry, feed you, and let you shower. I can't wait. I haven't had a real shower in over ten days. I have washed in a few cold rivers but its no shower.

So after two major mountain climbing days, there was a 2 mile shortcut that we could have taken OR a mystery. 20.2 mile trail that is more "scenic". Of course like fools we did the EXTRA 20 miles. This really sucked. It ended up being 4,000 feet up and 4,000 feet down. It took us a day and a half to get out and we ended up a day behind the majority of our friends. No more scenic detours.

There are so many nice and interesting people here. I am lucky to be amongst this group, a lot of young people who are driven by positive thinking. How often does that happen. They share their food and supplies because we are all in this together. Generosity is everywhere, even abundance. I have so much to learn from all them.

My friend Sagitar said it best, "you need to find positives everywhere". That really helped me.

It's fun seeing people on the trail that you haven't seen in a few weeks. They reappear from around the bend and remember you. It's funny sometimes. A girl named Squeaks I met on the second day appeared again and told me she met my parents, how crazy is that?

So enough of this long entry. Hiker haven is in 2 days. See you then.

World B. Free

It's been a while since the last post because I haven't been able to charge my phone. Since Big Bear I have done some hiking so to speak. Life is amazing out here. I left Papa Smurfs house is big bear with clean clothes and a full belly. The trail was mellow for 3 days. Some amazing views and no snakes. The blissful level trail ended too soon however as we had some extreme ups and down. I ran low on food but I knew hiker boxes would fill my bag.

There was rumors of hot springs but could you swim in the mid day? I thought we would skip it with the 25mile day in mind but it was too godly to be true. Natural sulfur hot springs surrounded by cold pools with fish had a rope swing! I went to the rope swing and then Kitten found TWO FULL 24oz BEERS. So excited to have free beer in our paradise it couldn't get much better...until the locals came around and stripped off their clothes, and splashed around. Hikers ended up looking to be the conservative ones while locals proudly pranced around. The day only got better when I fished up a new 2liter bottle of cold grape soda that I ended up sharing with hikers. Then our buddy and one of my favorite hikers G-Dub yelled out "Brownies!!!" And mixed a batter with milk powder and everybody threw in some treats. We ate it raw and got a delightful sugar high and a few more jumps off the rope swing were activities as more naked locals kept pouring in.

I met Rafiki from Alaska who told us of a boat ride from Bellingham, WA that could take us up to Anchorage for $180 over five days! Alaska, contains the fabulous Denali National park where we can do some more hiking after the PCT! Then back to Vancouver and who knows after that.

On Thursday there was a McDonalds 24 miles by highway 15. I got up at 525 and made 24 miles by 4:15! That's a pretty good run for me. I didn't each lunch cause I wanted to make it with a big appetite. Once the Mickey D's was in sight I was overwhelmed to see cars, people, and the usual things in society. I had been in the mountains for 6 days straight using my feet to get 342 miles to fast food. It wasn't as exciting as I thought but I ordered 20 nuggets, a Big Mac, large chocolate shake, med fries and used CTL's cup for soda. I ate the whole thing too quick and felt sick. I didn't like the hiker paradise as much as I thought. Low on food I got 4 double cheese burgers to go at 1.50 a piece and that would be my meal. After we left I got to talk to Lindsey on the phone which made me happy. Right after the phone call, a pair of big glowing eyes stared in the distance. A mountain lion was checking us out in the dark. I was afraid for about a minute and realized it would not bother us, I just knew.

I was cowboy camping with CTL behind me when we both woke up to sone rain! My biggest fear is getting drenched in a cold night but it was a light rain. I was too tired to set up my tent so I just pulled it over me. It worked well. It only rained for about an hour and I stayed dry and warm.

We decided to sleep in to cut our losses and had to climb 7,000 feet in 17 miles! I ate my cheeseburgers for breakfast and had a good amount of energy for the ascent. 3 miles in, I found a cache with cold beer, cookies, water, lawn chairs, and the Swim suit addition of sports illustrated with Kate Upton on the cover. What a treat :)

Now we only have 8 more miles up hill and I'm really tired. One new blister, strangely on my palm and we are not going into Wrightwood.

Life is good on the trail.

King Street

Ziggy and The Bear. Mile 210 and beyond

The descent from Idyllwild was horrible. First of all it was 20f that night so way below freezing and I have a tarp tent which is a tent that has an open bottom to allow maximum circulation but it doesn't trap heat well. I basically woke up and got out onto a frozen ground and had to walk down 8,000ft. This sounds nice going downhill but it's horrible on your knees.

Kitten and I hiked without Christian the Lion because we planned on meeting him a few days ahead and we sure missed our German counterpart. We made a 25.5 mile day and as the sun went down I was extremely tired and low on water. We went under the I-10 freeway and found coolers of beer and water. A few miles from there we would get to the trail angels Ziggy and The Bear who host their home to hikers. the sun was going down and the remaining miles were horrible. My feet hurt so bad as we trudged through sand and against a headwind.

Finally, we get to a white house and walk through the back gate. We were smelly and in a lot of pain and as we stepped into the backyard hikers cheered for our arrival! Hot-Mess gave me a big hug, but where was Christian the Lion? In 3 seconds a huge man grabbed me from behind, squeezing me terribly hard, it was him. I yelled out loud so excited and elated to see him that I lost track of what was going on. He pointed to his cup which was full of rootbeer float (Europeans don't have rootbeer) and we told me it was heaven here. Next thing you know, I was pushed into a comfy chair, my shoes were taken off and my feet were placed in an epson salt warm bath!!!!! My emotions were once again all over the place knowing that I was back with my partner, my feet were going to survive and I didn't have to freeze at night. But it only got better. A woman came up to me and asked "chocolate, vanilla, cookies and cream, strawberry, or mint?" Still overwhelmed by the hot foot bath, I didn't know how to answer. "Ice cream flavor silly". I said a little if everything.

I was given a fresh towel, a carpeted floor to sleep on, and breakfast would be provided with coffee. This is once again, TRAIL MAGIC.

We got up at 6:45 and Hot-Mess and her besty Brittany joined our group for the hike out. We only were going to walk 16 miles due to the next few days of very challenging terrain and we had to slow down to enjoy the scenery! There was a big river on the map in the San Gorgonio wilderness. It was hot, and we had just hiked up mountain. The river was in site, swimming and sunshine were on the menu. The five of us jumped into our undies and blissfully went splashing into the water, giggling as the scene of swimming in the desert is most unusual. After an hour of summer camp-esque fun, big dark clouds came looking for us. We threw our clothes on and the fun came to an end. We hiked another 8 miles to another riverside site and enjoyed listening to the thunder in the distance.

Christian the Lion taught me how to read a barometer and its pretty telling if a storm is near. The higher the number, the better the weather and if it goes down, your in trouble. I have a ton of admiration for CTL due to his experience and his sense of humor. I hope I'll be able to keep up with him because my right knee is giving me major problems when I go downhill.

There is thunder in the distance and I am going to sleep by 8 so I can rest up as much as possible.

We passed into the 200 mile zone and Section C of the PCT

-king street