The Force Awakens

By Tyler Socash

IG: @tylerhikes

I felt The Force.  It happened as I straddled a live wire meant to keep one-ton livestock at bay.  Te Araroa takes you across beautiful beaches, through babbling streams, and into rolling farmlands.  I was at a property line in Kerikeri when The Force of voltage pulsed through me so shockingly that I almost released my dark side.  Yup, I tripped an electric fence right between my thighs.  Welcome to New Zealand!

I landed in Auckland on Wednesday, December 15th.  Immediately upon reaching the terminal I had to make my way though customs.  "Is this really you?" the agent wavered, unsure whether he should let a bearded Tyler Socash enter his country, or not.  "Yeah that's totally me," I responded nonchalantly.  "...These are not the droids you're looking for," I thought. "...OK! Kia Ora, enjoy New Zealand!"  

Working my way towards baggage claim, I spotted the two things that I needed: an outlet adapter (the plug-ins are different in NZ), and a sleeve of Tim Tams.  These chocolate delicacies tasted so good!  I had officially arrived. 

The next bit happened in a blur.  Get downtown via public transit.  Find an i-Site.  Book a bus ticket to Kaitaia.  Purchase a Department of Conservation Hut Pass.  Buy fuel.  Buy groceries. 

In need of some downtime, I entered a café and struck up a conversation with a really nice Colombian girl. I get on a bus. I met a nice Kiwi girl named Lisa.  I learned some NZ slang including my need to achieve, "squad goals."  Met 3 guys from Europe.  They have full-sized guitars and pillows affixed to their packs. Took 4 hitches to get to Cape Reinga.  Suddenly I'm walking down the 90 Mile Beach.  I'm swimming in the Tasman Sea.  ...I felt something, a presence I hadn't felt since... The PCT!  I'm back in the zone!  

But something happened in the outside world.  A particular movie was released.  When I discovered that the quaint historical town of Kerikeri had a cinema, I was convinced that I had to go.  I had to watch a movie that would transcend expectations and take me into the cosmos.  Welcome to my unabashed juxtaposition of Star Wars Episode VII and Te Araroa. 

***SPOILER WARNING***

If you have not walked Te Araroa yet, these thru-hike reveals will absolutely upset you.  

A short time ago on an island far, far away...

Luke Skywalker has vanished.  The opening credits inform us that everyone is looking for him, including the new baddies, THE FIRST ORDER. 

I am missing.  2015 marks the first year that I have not been home for Christmas.  

In one of the opening scenes, Poe Dameron, ace X-Wing fighter pilot for the Resistance, is given a highly coveted map divulging Luke's whereabouts. 

I use maps all the time on Te Araroa. 

During the first battle, one of the Stormtroopers becomes self-aware.  This Stormtrooper, named Finn, assists Poe Dameron's escape from the clutches of the First Order.  Unfortunately, their spacecraft crashes.  Poe is feared dead. 

I saw someone crash on 90 Mile Beach... 

 High Tide is coming...

Rey, the new protagonist, is introduced.  She's awesome, and much like a young whipper snapper from Tatoine, she had a humble upbringing as an orphan.  The Force is strong in her.  

All protagonists need sage advice from a mentor.  Surprise surprise!  Han Solo happens to return and seems to embrace Rey as an understudy.  While evading the First Order in the Millennium Falcon, Rey, Han, Chewbacca, and Finn develop solid chemistry.  It's a fun ride, and as the viewer you feel a sense of kinship with this space family. 

After hiking through the Northland's Forest Tracks, I met my new trail family.   

The Force Awakens as the squad assembles. 

Our night in the Millennium Falcon, aka The Love Shak.

Kate and I pose with Stormtroopers.

Introducing my Te Araroa Trail Family...

Kate from New Zealand. Kate is our fearless leader.  She's our Rey.  Whether it's on the trail galvanizing the troops or in towns organizing our needs and fending off creepy old dudes at hostels, we count on Kate to keep us on track. 

Tobi from Germany.  Tobi Wan Kenobi.  Tobi has an affinity for the ocean and encourages us to swim as much as possible.  He's very friendly, and an excellent body surfer. 

Reyne from New Zealand.  Reyne is our smooth-talking, handsome, and cavalier member.  Everybody loves Reyne.  He's our Han Solo. 

Sebastian from France.  Seb is our romantic Frenhman with a wonderful accent.  His strength to push through a serious IT-band injury is admirable.  Due to his height, we've got our Chewbacca. 

Otis from the USA.  With an Appalachian Trail thru-hike under his belt, we've got a venerable veteran in the group.  Otis is our Jedi Master planner.  Therefore, he's our Luke Skywalker. 

Rebekah from New Zealand.  When I told Rebekah that she reminded me of BB-8, the lovable, animated droid who steals the show, she exalted, "Yes!  I want to be him!!!"

Manuela from Switzerland.  Without Manuela, we wouldn't have celebrated Christmas.  She pulled the group together to play games on Christmas Eve, and kicked the party off with style.  Manuela didn't enjoy the mud in the Herekino Forest, much like a Princess, so I deem her to be our wonderful Princess Leia. 

Tim from New Zealand.  Tim is funny.  Tim is our favorite.  Tim is a five-time New Zealand Rollerblading Champion.  One night Tim hobbled into our beach camp at 10pm after catching a lucky hitch from "the coolest 11-year old in the world."  Tim has a commanding presence, and embraces the Dark Side. He's Kylo Ren.  

When the gang is together, we do amazing things. We sea kayak, we have drinking game parties, we eat at McDoanld's together, we laugh our way down road walks, we stumble across dotterel eggs on the beach, we body surf together, we get lucky hitches. 

By myself, I went fast.  I nearly hiked 40km per day!  Like Finn, I was on the run.  I was chasing my dreams down the trail as fast as possible.  But, like Finn, I changed my plans to be with the group.  I'm going slower, and having fun.  I'm making best friends.  I love these guys!!

This looks like the last scene in the movie, the First Jedi Temple. 

The movie ends with another Death Star, an obligatory trench run, and a lightsaber battle.  The last seconds are very powerful.  It's very emotional.  The elusive Luke Skywalker takes off his hood, staring intently at our new hero, Rey.  It's such a cool scene.  No words are exchanged, but you feel Luke's pain.  You should go see this movie!  

I rank this movie as a 10/10.  It's one of the greatest movies I've ever watched.  

I hope there's a hooded character waiting for me at Bluff, the bottom of the South Island.  I hope to be called to another great adventure.  So far, this one has been incredible, with the people enhancing the walk.  Deciding to make sacrifices to go on a long walk has been my awakening.  The Force that literally pulsed through me in Kerikeri aligns with the metaphorical Force I feel while thru-hiking.  

...May The Force be with you! (But far, far away from your private parts.)

The Greatest Adenture is what lies ahead. 

 

On Leaving, Again

By Tyler Socash

IG: @tylerhikes

"Should I have been packing?  Should I have been planning?" I wondered.  This homecoming tour has been jam packed with events: hikes in the Adirondacks, an ad hoc 10-year high school reunion, holiday parties with former colleagues and neighbors, my first time visiting a cougar bar (Taylor's in Pittsford, NY – it's awesome), a garbage plate a Mark's Texas Hots in Rochester, and even meeting with the press a couple of times.  It was a whirlwind.  I never seemed to have time to plan for Te Araroa, New Zealand's 1,800-mile thru hike. Whoops!

Suddenly, I'm sitting at an international gate in LAX.  I've got a new backpack, no tent, no sleeping bag, and only a faint idea of how to arrive at Cape Reinga, Te Araroa's starting point on the northern tip of the North Island.  At least I watched The Hobbit: The Battle of Five Armies on my flight from JFK!  It's important to research a country's rich history before tramping across it. 

Te Araroa - Maori for "The Long Pathway"

I know what you're thinking... "Tyler, why did it take you so long to finally go to Taylor's?!?"  Well that's what this post is all about!...

The PCT lasted 4 months.  While on the trail, I began to realize what mattered and what didn't matter.  A tent in such an arid environment wasn't necessary.  Then it rained on me the first night that I shipped my tent ahead.  You sacrifice everything to leave your family and friends behind, and as you walk across the country you miss your family.  You miss your friends.  You miss home.  

As the old adage warns, "You never miss something until it's gone."

Then I returned!  I promised myself that I would take advantage of the time I had back home to do a healthy mixture of old and new things...

• I revisited my haunts of old.  "The Big Rock" and "The Frog Pond" outside of my childhood home deserved a visit.  This is where I played with my siblings and the neighbors all summer long when we were kids.  It was crazy to see how small "The Big Rock" looks now.  My neighbor Katie was right, my whole thru-hike journey may have started at these powerful, tiny places. 

• I bushwhacked to a place in the Adirondacks that I have never seen before.  What made this particularly special was that my Adirondack Mountain Club / Cranberry-50 thru-hike family was with me.  It was great to hike again with the people who went on my PCT preparation hike! 

• I reconnected with high school classmates, some of whom I had not seen in over 5 years.  Shout out to the Class of 2005 and to everyone else I saw at The Back Door in Old Forge!

• I cried so much at the Revelry in Rochester that I'm not sure if I'll be welcomed back!  My friends Chris, Patrick, Sarah, and Zack were kind enough to listen.  I opened up about what the trail meant to me, and I wept.  It was either really beautiful, or deeply disturbing for the other patrons to witness at this classy bar. 

• My friend Jesse went with me to see Turning Point Park and Mendon Ponds Park.  These were new trails around Rochester that we had not been to before.  It's wonderful that you can live somewhere for 10 years and still find new things to do.  We also hiked Pinnacle Hill, highest elevation in Rochester.

• I actually talked with my siblings.  Not just shooting the breeze.  We were really opening up with one another!  Whether it was in the kitchen begging my brother Eric to paddle the Northern Forest Canoe Trail with me, talking with my sister Nikki about relationships (we both read Don Miller's book Scary Close, which encourages people to be vulnerable and authentic with their spouse/children), or sharing my hopes and dreams with my brother Trey on the way to a Buffalo Bills game. 

• I went to Taylor's and I brought my friends.  While I didn't dance with any cougars, I danced fully cognizant of the fact that everyone was watching.  Damn, my Yelp review would be so positive about that place. 

• I consumed Rochester's cuisine, a garbage plate, at a new restaurant.  This was my last meal in town.  Such a phenomenal choice (qualifier: if you like greasy food and are about to go on a long walk)!

• I hiked a mountain that has eluded me since I stated hiking in the High Peaks region.  My friend Joe and I finally went up Noonmark together.  It was so awesome to connect with Joe and his wife Linda again.  They've supported my hiking quests since the beginning. 

• I tried sushi (admittedly, for the first time) at a work holiday party.  I know, crazy right?!?  I don't have a job, how did I wiggle my way into such a party?!  I'm thankful for that invite!

You might not be able to upend your life and travel tomorrow, but you can certainly do something different tonight!  Go to Taylor's Night Club (open Fridays and Saturdays only – I made multiple attempts), climb Pinnacle Hill, go to that new restaurant and order something that you've never had!  Kiss your partner with passion (come on, use some tongue), invite old friends and new people to a social gathering, check out a new local venue, compliment somebody.

Doing something silly might just make your day more fun.  Don't get sucked into a mundane routine.  Mix it up.  Have a cookie decorating party, build a few gingerbread houses, find new places for me to talk about in my next blog!

I was glad to be home for a few weeks, but now I'm off to Middle Earth.  I'll miss home, surely, but I'll be back soon.  Thanks for your support everyone!  We are about to take off, so I'm not sure if I tied this post together well.  The stewardess is telling me for the third time to turn off my device.  

Numbers

By Tyler Socash

IG: @tylerhikes

Numbers never lie.  I have compiled all of the interesting statistics that I could think of regarding my thru-hike.  These are objective facts based on my 2015 SOBO journey.  Use this information at your own risk, and by that I mean get outside into a park near you pronto!

 

2,650.1 - Total distance in miles of the Pacific Crest Trail according to the Halfmile maps. (Slightly longer than 101 marathons, and you all remember your first marathon!...)

488,411 - Total PCT vertical gain in feet while trekking those 101 marathons southbound to Mexico.  (Equivalent to nearly 17 ascents of Mt. Everest if starting from sea level.) 

This number is also from the Halfmile maps. https://www.pctmap.net/2014/03/elevation-gain-on-the-pacific-crest-trail/

I only saw 2 PCT trail markers during the first 60 miles of hiking. 

122 - Number of days that it took me to hike from monument to monument, Canada to Mexico. (June 27 - October 26, just under 4 months!  The average PCT thru-hike lasts 5 months.)

21.72 - Average number of miles hiked per day including time spent in town.  Honest math. 

4,003 - Average vertical ascent in feet per day.  That's a lot of climbing! 

3 - Pairs of Vasques boots used on the entire Pacific Crest Trail.  I also used 6 pairs of socks.

Two-thirds of my hiking footwear. 

5 - Number of trail names that I gave to other PCT hikers.  I was hoping to report back with 6 but "Talent Boy" didn't want to keep his name. 

6 - Age of the youngest person to complete the PCT, "Buddy."

76 - Age of the oldest person who I hiked with this year.  Hiking is a great lifetime sport! 

27 - Number of towns that I visited in order to resupply myself with provisions.

101.1 - Miles from Barrel Spring to the Mexican border.  This would be the longest natural-source waterless stretch for southbounders on the Pacific Crest Trail.  This is one of the main reasons why going northbound is so popular — more streams are running from snowmelt in the early Spring.  Don't worry, there are spigots and water caches along the way, but this trail would be extremely difficult without these luxuries.  Another daunting natural waterless stretch for southbounders was from Spanish Needle Creek to Robin Bird Spring, 67.9 miles.  Yes, Joshua Tree Spring is in-between, but that water is laced with uranium.  These desert distances make Oregon's 33.1-mile stretch between Thielsen Creek and Lightning Spring seem easy!  I also once thought Washington's 12-mile dry stretch around Grizzley Peak was tough!  Look how far I've come!  Rule of thumb: Fill up when water is available.  Hiking southbound was nice because by the time I got to the long waterless stretches down south I was in the best shape of my life. 

This water cache in the San Felipe Hills helps everyone out!  Thank you Trail Angels!

54 - Longest hiking distance in miles that I hiked in one day.  This stretch was from a site just south of Tehachapi Pass to Pine Canyon Road over the L.A. Aqueduct with the Wrong Way Gang.  This was one of my two double marathon days. 

14,505 - Highest elevation in feet reached on this trip.  This was an 16-mile detour to climb Mt. Whitney, California's highest peak.  The highest point on the actual PCT is Forester Pass at 13,200ft. 

140 - Lowest elevation in feet reached on this trip.  This was in Washington State near the Columbia River. 

Not many people celebrate at the PCT low point.  Here it is!

2 - Number of "zeros" that I took while hiking the PCT.  

3,500 - Cost in USD of my thru-hike, not including the plane tickets.  The average thru-hike costs between 4k-6k.  I would attribute my below average total to three things: the low number of zeros that I took, my completion speed, and having already owned hiking equipment.  New gear along the trail, resupplies, and town expenditures add up!  The secret to saving money... Don't spend the night in a town.  You already have your sleeping bag, and outside is free.  An overnight in town inevitably results in additional restaurant bills. Save some cash and donate to the lovely Trail Angels along the way instead!  

8 - Weight loss in pounds after completing the PCT. 

23 - Number of bodies of water that I swam in along the PCT.  This includes the three deepest lakes in the United States: Crater Lake, Lake Tahoe, and Lake Chelan.  I didn't count anything less than full submersion as a legit swim. 

Middle Rosary Lake, Oregon

5 - Number of black bears that I saw on the entire thru-hike.  All of the Bears ran away from me as fast as possible once they saw me.  There is no need to view this beautiful creature as an antagonist.  Bears are awesome, and I'm so happy that I saw them.

48 - Number of Wilderness areas along the PCT.  These places... Wow!

7 - Number of National Parks along the PCT.  Have you been to any of them?

2.7 - Remaining percentage of the continental U.S. protected as wilderness.  Hopefully you agree that this is a shockingly low percentage, considering that this country was nearly 100% wild a short time ago. Check www.wilderness.net 

20 - Degrees Fahrenheit that my down sleeping bag was rated for.  I was too warm most nights, but glad that I had it during the desert where I experienced the coldest temperatures.  I know, right?! "Don't you know the desert is hot?" said everyone. 

9 - Instances of precipitation while walking across Washington, Oregon, and California combined!  I imagine that total rainfall would be less than 3 days out of 122 days of thru-hiking.  I was told that this was the fourth terrible drought year in a row.  I'd expect more rain next time, especially if I went NOBO (it rains a lot in the Cascades come September).

90 - Number of nights spent cowboy camping under the stars. (The other nights: 1 in a hammock, 2 in tepees, 7 in a tent, 22 days under a roof!)

Cowboy camp set-up on Methow Pass in rugged Northern Washington.

At the OR/CA border. 

1,052.1 - Number of miles hiked without carrying a tent.  I shipped it from Cascade Locks, OR, to Echo Lake, CA to save on weight.  This was very foolish, but I just assumed it would never rain!  This means I hiked 40% of the PCT without a precipitation backup plan.  I was rained on twice during that tentless stretch — including the first night without my tent!

29 - Days that I hiked solo on the PCT.  People always ask me, "Were you alone most of the time?"  Nope, I hiked with others 76% of the time, which is probably a very high statistic for a southbound thru-hiker!  I also saw at least one other human being every single day during this thru-hike...  Maybe the trail isn't as Wild as you would hope?

56 - The highest number of northbound hikers who passed me in one day.  Everyone always wants to know where the dreaded NOBO herd is.  I encountered it on August 10th just south of Crater Lake. I met my first NOBO July 9th ("Magic," a super nice guy) in the Alpine Lakes Wilderness.  I was shocked to meet the last alleged NOBO thru-hiker on Septwmber 9th in the Carson-Iceberg Wilderness. I hope he makes it!  My friend Half Jesus is still out there on his SOBO journey.  Just like what Billy Goat says, "The last one to the border wins!  If you go fast, you get to the monument and say, 'Well I guess I'll go home now...'  People forget why they left their job to be out here in the first place!"

1,998 - Number of miles that I carried my bear canister... From the Canadian border to Walker Pass!  You need this piece of equipment in the High Sierra. 

0 - The number of times I went to dig a 6-8 inch cathole and accidentally dug up NOBO poop.  Phew!

10 - The number of Keystone Lights I consumed before throwing in the towel during the 24-24-24 Challenge.  Groucho was able to actually complete this mythical hiker quest.  I am still amazed. 

Groucho rocking the 12-packs in each hand. 

If you liked this Numbers post, you'll tolerate this Pacific Crest Trail Finale video... Look how far my beard has come! http://youtu.be/VUmAUZ2sWI8

Enjoy the monument celebration at the end :)

I'll admit that I got lucky with an unseasonably warm June, I got lucky with weather, and I was lucky to avoid most forest fire issues.  Next year might be totally different, so please go forth prepared.  Please follow all Leave No Trace ethics on your future hike, no matter the distance.  Let's do our part to keep our trails awesome!

- Future Dad

Muir is Watching Us... From a Distance

By Tyler Socash

IG: @tylerhikes

"We are being followed," Huck uttered in a frightening tone...  After leaving the Mt. Laguna campground at dusk, a park manager warned us that cougars prowled nearby.  And no, not the type that young men fantasize about meeting at bars.  The mountain lion kind. This type of sensationalized hype now falls on deaf ears.  "You won't find water in the desert."  "It's going to be so hot in the desert."  "There are mountain lions in the desert."  Pretty soon you learn that everyone has something negative to say, when the reality is that you're going to have an awesome time in the desert.  (It has also been the coldest and the wettest place on trail - who knew?!)

But there we were, standing together, fumbling for our headlamps at nightfall.  Groucho and I were taken aback by Huck's seriousness.  "I noticed we were being followed a few minutes ago.  Then I saw its eyes staring right at me through the tall grass."  It was very dramatic to hear this in Huck's Danish accent.  

Harpo and Bug came strolling up behind us, also reporting that they heard movement in the shrubs.  Imminent danger!  This was exciting.  

The Wrong Way Gang atop Mt. Whitney, 14,505ft. 

I wasn't actually scared about the potential mountain lion.  You learn out here that animals generally want nothing to do with humans.  I was simply glad that the Wrong Way Gang had reformed. I was glad we were together.  The cougar never appeared that night (2,640 miles walked without a mountain lion sighting), but we had a lot of phenomenal experiences as a team in the past month that heightened my thru-hiking experience...

I left off my last blog post stating that I lost the Wrong Way Gang.  Indeed I did!  I traveled the High Sierra from Reds Meadow to Kearsarge Pass solo.  Unsure  that I can be as descriptive as Muir, I'll unleash some photos to assist my best efforts. 

Also, sometimes videos help: http://youtu.be/JhJXAvfXfRY

Enjoy "A Hike of Ice and Fire: The Range of Light - Part 2"

Below Selden Pass, High Sierra.  John Muir Wilderness. 

Evolution Creek, Kings Canyon National Park. 

Below Mather Pass, among the rocks and alpine lakes. 

Arrowhead Lake outlet, and probably my favorite PCT picture. 

John Muir claimed that the wilderness had spiritual significance.  It's hard to doubt the man after you walk 133 miles from Reds Meadow to the side trail for Mount Whitney.  This part of the Pacific Crest Trail is also the John Muir Trail (JMT).  I felt small.  Insignificant.  I felt like man had no business defiling nature anywhere after seeing its purest splendor.  We almost built a highway through this part of the country.  That's what we do best, build highways to propagate our automobile addiction.  Thankfully, Ronald Reagan rode out on a white horse to Reds Meadow and announced no highway would be built in the High Sierra.  It's now the longest roadless stretch in the Lower 48.  Thanks for listening to Muir. 

The High Sierra is hard to imagine.  Picture yourself as an ant.  White walls surround you as if you've been ushered to the bottom of a sacred chalice.  Somehow little rivers and wildlife navigate their way through this labryinth of canyons and peaks.  Due to the fact that you can only carry so much food on your back, your days in this mountainous paradise are numbered.  You've got to press onward.  Also, winter is coming.  You don't want to be stuck here unprepared when 3 feet of snow falls.  Or maybe you would?

I had the time of my life hiking from Selden Pass, to Silver Pass, to Muir Pass, to Mather Pass, to Pinchot Pass, to Glen Pass, to Kearsarge Pass...  These names might not mean anything to you, nor would they mean anything to me prior to experiencing them, but these places matter.  They matter because they provide stunning vistas of untrammeled wilderness.  These views are unlike anything humans in the modernized world will ever see.  No roads.  No noisy fossil fuel-guzzling machinery.  No sloppity-slop or gluppity-glup pollution.  Nothing but you and wilderness.  Since I went through in September, I saw fewer hikers.  It's a hard place to get a backcountry permit for, and deservedly so.  It's protected due to the fact that it's a rarity. Only 2.7% of our country is protected this way.  The wilderness is disappearing, and that makes me sad after spending my entire summer walking through the best of our west.  I wish there were more safe places for mountain lions to roam.  Maybe then I would have actually seen one by now?  I liken it to moose in the Adirondacks.  They are so rare, yet people seem more excited to see their population increase so that hunting them can be legal, rather than protecting more land so that moose and all other species can thrive.  Why does mankind feel the need to dominate everything?  Interesting tidbit... 10,000 years ago non-human wildlife comprised of 98% of all animal biomass on the planet.  In a fraction of earth's existence, today 98% of the planet's biomass is human or animals under the dominion of humans (cattle / farm animal industries)  Where is all the wildlife going?  The 2.7% thing has a role in that.  We are gobbling up resources and space needed by others like mountain lions and moose.  Let's not even get started on how wild animals like tigers and rhinos might go extinct before our lifetimes expire. 

The view from Pinchot Pass.  A happy picture to transition to a happier topic. 

When I hiked out of the High Sierra to resupply in Bishop, CA, I found the Wrong Way Gang!  NOBO's have been raving about Hostel California for months, so I was glad to finally stay there.  Twinless, Huck, Bug, Harpo, and Groucho were all there!  We exchanged stories all day and took care our individual town needs before leaving the next day. 

Bishop was great, but tough to hitch out of.  The trail provided a twist... 

Future Dad and Blueprint (Seth)

The Wrong Way Gang caught a bus to Independence, CA, and on that bus was my friend Seth who I met in Stehekin!  We hiked around the Glacier Peak Wlderness together with "Wildfire" and Seth's girlfriend "Darkside."  Seth was also the guy who gave me my trail name!  I couldn't believe that our paths crossed again.  Although Seth's hike was ending that day, I felt in my soul that I'd see him again someday.  What a lucky bus to catch!

The WWG climbed on.  We hiked over Forester Pass,highest point on the PCT at 13,200ft.  We summited Mount Whitney at sunrise.  Groucho orchestrated a trail magic day for JMT hikers at the summit, encouraging the WWG to help hand out candy and airplane bottles of liquor to other hikers.  We named all of our poop trowels after famous Broadway stars, singers, or actors (I'm proudly carrying Bette Midler - which stems from a running joke with "Half Jesus" about how I can never remember Bette's hit songs).  

Then there's more!  The WWG hiked a double marathon together over the Los Angeles Aqueduct section.  We got trail angeled by surprise in Agua Dulce, CA after Groucho and I attempted the 24-24-24 Challenge, which is of course when you drink 24 beers over 24 hours while hiking 24 miles.  Groucho made it!  I did not!

Enter the desert.  Kiavah Wilderness. 

Enter the 24-24-24 Challenge. 

Enter the Poodle-Dog Bush. A plant that packs more punch than poison ivy. 

The WWG even went through a tumultuous (though temporary) break up after climbing San Jacinto.  But we are back together now, just 100 miles later and with so few miles to go...

What does this PCT journey mean?  How have I changed?  Will I cry at the monument?  What was my favorite part? Am I still going to New Zealand?  Why don't I post more frequently?  What happened to the SOBO's that I no longer mention?  Was this quest the same as Wild?  

I guess you won't have to wait long for these answers.  I'm finishing the 2,650-mile Pacific Crest Trail tomorrow morning.  

The entire Wrong Way Gang will be by my side...  Unless we finally get that mountain lion attack we were promised.

A Range of Lightning

By Tyler Socash

IG: @tylerhikes

I began counting instantly. "One one thousand, two one thousand..."  BOOOOOOOOM!!!!

A bedraggled stranger looked upon my approach in disbelief.  "Are you seriously heading up there now?!" he asked with his hood cinched tightly around his damp brow.  A mixture of rain and hail was falling, and a downpour seemed imminent. 

"Yeah, I think so," I responded uncertainly. 

"Then run.  As fast as you can."  That sounded cool to me.  I felt like I was in a movie.  

Donohue Pass is at 11,073 feet.  With a long approach up Lyell Canyon from Tuolumne Meadows, you are finally in the High Sierra.  Ordinary dayhikers aren't found meandering here, not this far away from the comforts of Yosemite Valley.  Donohue Pass is deep in Yosemite's backcountry.  You are exposed.  You can see glaciers.  You hear a disquieting ringing sound in your ears.  Your hair is standing up.  You get a metallic taste in your mouth.  You are in a lightning storm.  Classic!

"It seemed not to be clothed with light, but wholly composed of it, like the wall of some celestial city."

When John Muir gazed upon the Sierra Nevada he was moved spiritually.  Among the bolts of lightning and claps of thunder I felt like I was having an out of body experience there too. 

The poncho-clad man who I encountered before Donohue was distraught himself.  His hiking partner was somewhere above us in the chaos.  With only 500 feet of ascent to go, I felt caught in-between safe zones.  I could descend back into the trees, or climb over the pass and descend into the trees on the opposite side.  It was akin to being amidst the action sequences of the blockbuster Twister, but without having Bill Paxton there telling you when to duck. 

Lyell Canyon, looking up towards Donohue Pass

I hurried my ascent.  The flashes of lightning were closely followed by thunder.  The storm was approximately two miles away.  I passed by a few more backpackers before commencing my own all-out sprint to the top of the pass. 

The look of terror on Donohue Pass.

Cresting the pass doubled as the height of my exposure whilst also signifying my entrance into the Ansel Adams Wilderness.  I guess this is why I felt the need to take a picture?...

All photography jokes aside, I was scared.  I actually saw another southbounder ahead of me running downhill.  "That person is really smart," I shared openly as I quickened my pace.  You can see this moment yourself in my most-recent video in the YouTube Hike of Ice and Fire series.  I was running with a fully-loaded pack to lower elevations!  Look out below!

This was a frightening moment.  The thunder was rolling and echoing in the deep granite valley.  I didn't feel safe until reaching treeline, and I probably wasn't actually safe until the storm seemed to finally move away.  This was my first lightning-related scare on the PCT.  It probably won't be the last time I experience this type of threat.  Be on the lookout for dark clouds.  They roll in fast!

The payoff on the south side of Donohue was substantial.  When the rains cleared I had a beautiful view of Banner Peak and Thousand Island Lake....

My sixth experience with precipitation on the PCT came the next day.  I walked into the café at Reds Meadow sopping wet.  I was hoping to take the bus into Mammoth Lakes, but it had stopped running for the season!  

Not to be deterred, I bushwhacked to the nearest-and-only road (there isn't another road for 200 miles, this is the longest roadless stretch in the Lower 48 States).  As I emerged from the woods, a taxi magically appeared and took me into town.  The trail (read: road?) provides!

My time in Mammoth Lakes would encompass many happenings...  My second "zero" while hiking the PCT, an amazing story of being trail angeled by an attractive group of ladies at a supermarket (they frisked me to ensure that I wasn't armed), a fortuitous encounter with a JMT Hiker (John Muir Trail - coincides with the PCT from approximately Tuolumne Meadows until Mount Whitney), and ultimately my introduction to The Wrong Way Gang. 

This town re-charged me.  The trail angels graciously cooked dinner and breakfast for me, we shared stories, I was given a complimentary tour of the actual Mammoth Lakes themselves, AND they even joined me for a 3-mile section on the Pacific Crest Trail.  Their kindness was absolutely appreciated.  I can't believe that a simple conversation at the grocery store resulted in such great acts of kindness.  (They noticed that my shopping cart only consisted of junk food, which required an explanation of how a human could have such an unhealthy diet.)  They endured my scent (no deodorant since June 24th) and my unkempt appearance (well I did wash my socks in a South Lake Tahoe bathroom about a week earlier).  I am in their debt. 

Meeting new friends re-charged me.  The Wrong Way Gang is legendary.  I've been reading their names in trail registers since Stehekin, WA.  Harpo and Groucho are a long-distance couple who hiked the AT in 2013.  Their entries in registers are always entertaining, and their company more so.  Groucho is the only man I know to complete the 24-24-24 Challenge (24 beers in 24 miles in 24 hours).  Harpo maintains a daily blog called "Songs Out of the City" and she sings with me on the trail.  She is the only person to successfully complete the "1.Poo" challenge, which is of course when you are able to use the outdoor restroom, hike 1.2 miles, all in under 20 minutes.  Incredible.  I've failed every time I try!  Huck is from the great country of Denmark and has the ability to communicate with animals.  He is the most amicable man on earth, and his method of hiking without pants has created the new verb, "Huck-ing." Twinless has unparalleled spunk and already encourages us to think about the Continental Divide Trail.  She also accidentally triggered her SPOT GPS while hiking naked, a verb that we now know as, "Twinless-ing."  Bug has a food blog called "nourishingjourneypct.com" and she has an adorable puppy dog named Sprout who joins us occasionally on our southbound trek.  Bug, who completed a SOBO PCT thru-hike in 2014, continues to section hike with us, a verb we now know as, "Bugging Out."

This group is awesome.  Trail Angels are awesome.  Drinking wine all night with Trail Angels did, however, cause me to sleep in as the Wrong Way Gang departed from our hostel in Mammoth Lakes, CA. 

Whoops. 

A blurry photo that will leave you wondering, "Who is this 'Wrong Way Gang?'" "Will Future Dad catch them?" "Will 'Future Dad-ing' become a verb?"

Blogging is fun.

Trail Life Transcendentalism

By Tyler Socash

IG: @tylerhikes

"Trail Life, what's it all about?!  How is it different from life in the Real World?!"

First thought: nature is actually the real world.  Nowadays, we humans mainly exist in a modernized world.  This is completely fine, as I also love the comforts of the Internet and other ancillary services the Internet brings our civilization.  Lexical semantics aside, how is my thru-hike different from the life I left behind?  Surely, it is different.  "How so?"  I'll tell you! 

Hiking on the Pacific Crest Trail, any long-distance trail, requires work and dedication.  Much like a classic job, I feel like I'm at work all day!  It begins exactly the same in each world...  I wake up, and the sun rises in the east.  

Suddenly I'm reminded of subtle differences.  I automatically orient myself.  Birds are chirping.  Muscles and blisters ache (especially during the first month).  The sky is beautiful.  It's time to fill my pot with water.  Ignite the pocket rocket.  I really hope that I'm awake before my hiking companions so I don't have to rush.  Keep eyes closed while the water comes to a boil.  Consume oatmeal (100 days of oatmeal - not tired of it yet).  Remain in sleeping bag while the sun heats the part of the world that I happen to exist on.  Conclude oatmeal consumption (which also included bits of chocolate and crushed Pop-Tarts – I cannot withold such details). 

Deflate air out of Thermarest NeoAir sleeping pad.  Once the insulation is gone, you hit the point of no return.  You must get up.  Sometimes I can still see my breath.  Sometimes I'm too hot.  Either way, you can't hike in a 20-degree sleeping bag (read: any sleeping bag).  Begrudgingly remove clammy feet from sleeping bag.  Stuff sleeping bag into its proper sack.  Repeat with Thermarest pad.  Don we now our gay apparel.  By that I mean two things: socks and boots. 

Really quick... The Pacific Crest Trail, and possibly everything west of the Continental Divide, is so unbelievably dry.  Even arid.  I will one day (on the Appalachian Trail) pine for these mornings.  My feet never get wet out here. 

Clothing adjustments are made, and all sleeping materials are stored in their respective places in and on my Osprey backpack.  Cooking items and food are neatly crammed into their spots.  And I venture off having failed yet again to brush my teeth.  

This is probably when you expect me to talk about the views.  I can't do that yet because it's the morning and I'm in desperate need of locating my outdoor restroom.  Extract poop trowel (which I have named "Bette Midler") and toilet paper from pack.  Be discreet.  Find a spot far from trails and water sources.  Dig a 6-8 inch cathole.  What?... This is what you're reading this blog for, right?!  This is educational.  Also, you quickly realize that your bathroom view is phenomenal.  Crap, I wasn't supposed to mention the views yet!

Jumping back into the modernized world...  Wake up in a dark apartment.  Rub eyes and curse mildly.  You shouldn't have gone to Dragonfly last night.  Turn on shower.  Water magically appears. There's no need to step all the way in.  Just lean in, getting your hair damp enough so that the co-workers will think you actually took a proper shower, though we all know there's no time for that.  Utilize toilet that flushes excessive amounts of clean water down the drain.  You notice the views: floor tiles cracking, someone's hair collecting in lumps on the wall somehow, how many dead ladybugs are going to collect in the storm window prison? These views are sub-optimal.  Feign washing your hands because who's watching anyway?  Venture off downstairs after clumsily putting on dress clothes, having failed yet again to brush your teeth. 

Downstairs is a kitchen.  It can have anything you want in it.  You just have to buy it from Wegmans sometime that week.  Despite unlimited options, breakfast doesn't change too much over the course of your life.  Although you keep forgetting to buy Fruity Pebbles and there is a pang of regret as you throw last night's leftovers in a bag and sulk towards the door, understanding that breakfast will again consist of coffee at work anyway. 

Hiking world: The commute begins!  Crisp air.  More birds now, the chirping escalates.  Friends are ahead of you and behind you.  The path traveled is different than yesterday.  The commute is ever-changing, ever-stimulating.  Still heading towards an unfathomable goal far, far away.  The light overtakes the darkness.  You see it in canyon walls, on treetops, on distant mountains.  The sun, the big yellow celestial object that creates enough energy to power all chlorophyll-based plants on Earth and which will one day power the needs of our fossil fuel-dependent world, rises ever higher.  Stars seem to vanish.  You try to pick out a last constellation before daylight steals them away.  You notice Polaris getting lower in the sky as you progress southward.  Allow your mind to be blown as your realize you've walked more than 10 degrees of latitude towards the Equator.   You see animal tracks on the trail.  You see little mammals and plants beneath the old growth.  Everything is alive.  A mother grouse protects its chicks as you approach.  A mother doe teaches it's fawn how to hop away as you draw near.  You realize that animals have feelings.  You realize that your struggle to survive out here is like theirs, only you're wearing synthetics purchased from REI or from the Internet.  

"You're alive, the trees are living too!" - a hand-painted sign reads outside of Quincy, CA.  A 6th grader.  Smart kid. 

You're out of water.  You come to a spring.  It's a spring so you can probably drink it without filtering.  Sweet.  Little flowers that you've been seeing throughout this section of trail grow near the source.  It's always cold.  Tastes great. 

Back to the "Real World":  The commute sucks.  It sucks and it consumes your life.  Most Americans spend as much time in traffic per year as they spend time on vacation.  Surprise!  I walk to the bus stop and make it just in time.  We meander surface streets, seeming to miss every green light on the way.  You have no friends in front of you nor behind you.  Every human in their own box of steel is a hindrance to your free coffee at work. The freeway traffic doesn't look any better as we go cross the overpass.  You see a hundred cars during those 8 seconds, and that's just one view of one highway at one time of day on one part of the planet.  The gas companies really don't want biking to catch on in America.  The 4-mile route to work takes nearly an hour in morning traffic.  Time is money.  Take a swig of water from your Smart Water bottle, which literally belittles people who drink water that comes from the ground (read the fine print).  You arrive at work just in time to get on the Internet.

Nature: If you're on Washington's PCT, you might find yourself at a lake or looking out at endless jagged mountains.  Maybe you take off the 30-pound pack and swim (always better than the lean-in shower back home).  "You'll never regret a lake swim!" a John Muir Trail hiker once told me.  Half Jesus and Mantis lived by that principle. 

If you're in Oregon, no doubt you're eyeing up the next great sentinel on the horizon.  Will you make it to Three Fingered Jack today?  Will you summit Mount Thielsen?  Will you scream when you jump into Crater Lake?

If you're in California in the Sierras your mind is blown and you already know that your life has reached a pinnacle of happiness.  Maybe you're also glad to be in the backcountry of a National Park.  Also, it's lunchtime and you get to eat all the Nutella you want because you burn 5,000 calories a day easy and you're going to walk 40,000 steps or more. 

Your Job: Thank goodness it's lunchtime because that email train took a lot out of you.  Lunch at work was always super fun for me.  I can't be cynical here.  I miss my colleagues.  I miss many aspects of my old life.  It's just hard to compete with the wilderness.  You'll see why in about two seconds. 

Trail:  Maybe today you'll hike naked?  My new trail friend named Huck hiked without pants once. Now my southbound crew, affectionately known as the "Wrong Way Gang," will go pants-less for a stretch.  We call this "Hucking." 

Maybe today you'll swim nude?  Why not?  You're on the Pacific Crest Trail and it's a liberating feeling!  The trail is more Wild than you thought...  (See what I did there?)

Maybe you'll try to break the "1.Poo Challenge?"  In this challenge, you have to follow Leave No Trace Princples and take a proper restroom break while also hiking 1.2 miles — all in under 20 minutes.

Silly stuff, but all a part of trail life. 

To be fair, sometimes I'm cold, nervous, and frequently bedraggled out here.  Netflix and a night in can sound tempting when the conditions worsen.  The trail can surely tax you physically, emotionally, and mentally.  Luckily the good times greatly outnumber the tough. 

Work: 5pm finally arrives.  Return home in the same hellacious traffic.  Your friends are too tired to do anything except go to Dragonfly for a few drinks.  Maybe, if you're lucky, you'll have a Kickball League of Rochester game before you end up a Dragonfly.  Maybe you'll go to the gym, which seems rather silly once you know how much of a workout walking in nature can be.  But you at least have to workout for 30 minutes... You ate that Nutella, after all. 

Trail: The darkness takes back the sky.  The sunsets are sensational.  You never tire of a summer of sunsets.  Your bedroom is different – and approximately 22 miles further away than where you started the day.  Sometimes you sleep on a mountain pass, other times along a serene lakeshore.  The constellations return.  You think about the cycle of the moon.  There are so many stars.  The universe is huge.  You didn't go on the Internet today.  You didn't see your reflection in a mirror.  You didn't drink tap water.  You have no idea when water will be available again.  Your bed is the ground.  Your friends are camping nearby.  Or maybe you had a day of solitude, which is tough to get in a world with nearly 8 billion people and projecting towards 11 billion in 30 years.  

You saw stuff like this today:

Work Life... Thru-hikers or not we all work!  Raising families or raising hell.  Jobs.  Vocations.  In Latin "vocation" means calling. It just so happens that my job right now is staying alive on a thru-hike, which also begins to feel more and more like a calling.  Perhaps you think of it more of a big naked journey now?  That's OK, Cheryl Strayed gets that too.  Thru-hiking is hard.  It takes sacrifice.  So does having a job.  They are both valid.

The day ends exactly the same in each world... the sun sets in the west, and I go to bed exhausted. 

Do we work to live or live to work?  I don't know, this is just a blog!  

If you like moving pictures more, here's my quest into the top part of the High Sierra: http://youtu.be/YK1bamw2iCk

The Two Towers

By: Tyler Socash

IG: @tylerhikes

"Every day on trail has been the best day of my life."  That's what I've been telling everyone I meet.  Day-hikers, people who give me hitches, store clerks, the guy who just interrupted my blog post on the porch of the Sierra City General Store, they all get the same message.  (Delivered with genuine enthusiasm!). It's true, thru-hiking the Pacific Crest Trail has been the most beautiful and singularly the most arduous undertaking of my life.  I wake up everyday excited to still be on trail.  The views just keep on coming...

Yesterday was no exception.  It was the next greatest day of my life.  I'll always remember yesterday as The Day of the Two Towers.  

August ended in a memorable way.  I woke up at Lookout Rock and hiked past a National Scenic River - the Middle Branch of the Feather River.  I finished memorizing The Lorax, which took me 2 weeks to perfect.  Finally, I hiked around the base of Pilot Peak.  I intended to go another 6 miles that day, but I noticed an intriguing structure at the summit...

The old firetower atop Pilot Peak. 

A firetower!  As I rounded the base of Pilot Peak, I wondered if I could bushwhack up to the summit.  "That would be an awesome place to spend my last night in August," I thought.  Here are a few views from the ascent...

Cool rock formations.  Erosion is neat. 

This part was a bunch of rock-hopping. 

The route up became exceptionally steep.  I found an old cable that was intentionally stretched up a scree field to assist hikers approaching from the Pacific Crest Trail.  By the looks of it, the cable was decades old.  It reminded me of the cable route up Gothics in the Adirondack High Peaks, which made me think of my friend Joe and my hiking friends back home.  

Topping out on the summit took a lot of effort.  I thought that I might have pulled my hamstring as I surged uphill.  Gingerly, I crested to discover that the watch tower was in bad shape.  Decrepit.  Almost menacing-looking, like the two towers from The Lord of the Rings. 

The interior was gutted.  Glass was strewn about the base of the tower.  Precarious steps led me to the overlook. Banisters were missing, as were some of the floorboards!  I could think of no better place to spend the night. 

On the stable portion of the tower. 

Nighttime came with its surprises.  This was the first time I remember seeing city lights from the trail.  To the SSW I thought I was viewing the endless sprawl of Greater Sacramento.  It was an interesting sight. 

And then came the mice.  I truly hope that I did not contract hantavirus.  They got into my shoes, they ruined my water bladder, and one of them ate my trekking pole handles.

It was fun, Pilot Peak, but as dawn struck it was time to walk towards Mexico.  The trail led to the southeast.  On the horizon I spied a sharp peak.  I imagined that it was the Sierra Buttes, and in 30 miles I would be there!

Today was the first day that I felt like I was in the Sierras.  Technically I am in the transition zone between the Cascade Range and the Sierra Nevadas.  It's a transition zone because geologists can't seem to delineate where one range ends and the other begins!  As I marched into the Sierra Buttes, I saw stuff like this:

Ooo, Ahhh!  Neat!

This looks Sierra-ish to me!

I have a strong opinions regarding wilderness.  

1) There's not enough of it.  Once again, only 2.7% of the contiguous United States is preserved as Federal wilderness.  That means over 97% of our country can be paved, and a lot of it already is!

2) Nature's inimitable beauty is unsurpassable. 

3) The Sierra Buttes should be re-classified as wilderness.  

As of right now, the Sierra Buttes region is within the Tahoe National Forest.  "National Forest" is basically a code name for "where we will log and build lots of roads."

I was thoroughly enjoying the Sierra Buttes, I was having the greatest day of my life!  The only thing that tarnished my experience were the dirt bikes.  Lots of dirt bikes.  Lots of roads and dirt bikes. 

This reminded me of a Lewis C.K. bit that my friend Patrick played for me.  God comes back to Earth to discover that oil is spilled everywhere...

...That if you believe that God gave you the Earth and God created the Earth for you, why would you not be – have to look after it? Why the f@#% – why would you not think that when he came back he would go ‘What the f@#% did you do? I gave this to you motherf@#%er are you crazy? The polar bears are brown! What did you – what did you do to the polar bears??? Did you shit all over every polar bear? What did you – Who did this? Who spilled this shit? Who spilled this? Come over – did you f@#%ing spill this? What is that?’

'...it's oil... it's just some oil... I didn't mean to spill it...'

'Well why did you take it out of the f@#%ing ground???’

'...Cuz I wanted to go faster?...'

The dirt bikes kicked dirt up everywhere.  Imagine that!  The ringing of their engines could be heard around every corner.  Mechanized vehicles aren't permitted on the PCT, yet I saw their tracks in the dirt throughout the section.  It was less than ideal, but I still got to see stuff like this:

The Sierra Buttes!

These rock!

Our country doesn't need more roads.  We have 4 million miles of those.  We don't need to drill the Arctic Ocean for oil — seems kind of desperate, doesn't it?

We need more wilderness areas, especially with global human population projecting to grow to 11 billion by 2100.  I select the Sierra Buttes as an exceptional candidate to preserve!  It was one of my favorite places on the entire Pacific Crest Trail! 

Upon closer inspection, the Sierra Buttes had a lookout tower on the summit pinnacle.  There was a road (of course) to the summit, and I thought, "Why not spend back-to-back nights at two towers!?!"

The summit of the Sierra Buttes

After hiking 30 miles, why not add an additional 1,300ft climb to get atop the 8,587ft. pinnacle?!  The view from the top made me shake at the knees...

"Is this safe?!?"

Would you climb this?

Don't look down!  It was a vertical drop that would make you queasy.

Two Towers, One Day!  America!

Just another day on the PCT!  It was another great one.  This will be on my list of places to return to someday.  

Seeing the dirt bikes, the endless Sacremento light pollution, and rickety summit towers made me appreciate the 24 wilderness areas that I've seen thus far even more.  I've been spoiled out here!  So much beauty!  This blog has been a platform for me to share this natural beauty, but I also see it as an opptunity to suggest that more wild and open spaces would benefit our nation – and the globe. 

The Once-ler said it best.  

"Unless someone like you 

cares a whole awful lot,

nothing is going to get better.

It's not."

When the next opportunity presents itself to support wilderness protection near you, vote for the wilderness! 

The two towers were cool, but I'm eagerly awaiting the pristine Sierra wilderness regions ahead!  Wish me luck!

Also, I'm starting a video series on YouTube called, "A Hike of Ice and Fire." Search for my second installment of the series, A Cascade of Kings, via a simple google search.  Yes, these are Game of Thrones references, as I'm reading more than just Dr. Seuss on trail for inspiration. Just about to start A Clash of Kings, and I know I'm late to the game but I'm a little shocked about Lord Eddard.  What gives, Joffrey!?!

- "Future Dad"