The Long White Tunnel

By Tyler Socash

IG: @tylerhikes

You can see Mount Shasta for hundreds upon hundreds of miles along the PCT.  Allegedly, at least.  I saw Shasta for the first time in the Soda Mountain Wilderness of southern Oregon.  That was the first time I knew I was looking at California from the trail!

Standing at 14,179ft., Mount Shasta is the second-tallest mountain in the Cascade Range (behind Mount Rainier), and it's the fifth-tallest mountain in California.  Despite its formidable size, I couldn't see the volcano half of the time...

The culprit?  Northern California's forest fires!  Lightning strikes in late-July ignited most of the wildfires across Humboldt and Trinity Counties.  Without much rain in the forecast, combined with severe drought conditions, these fires continued to spread.  By early August, 6-million acres of forest — a size equivalent to the entire Adirondack Park — already burned across the United States... and the fire season isn't over. 

Smoke fills the valleys as I march southbound in California. 

The right-center peak is Mount Shasta, as seen from Oregon. 

The Appalachian Trail is nicknamed The Long Green Tunnel.  Everything is so lush back east.  We typically don't worry about forest fires, and there never seems to be a shortage of water (or snow).  Coping with intense and long-lasting wildfires is the new normal out west.  The Pacific Crest Trail suddenly transformed into a Long White Tunnel. 

The smoke-smuggered sunset. 

A shrouded Marble Mountain, namesake of the Marble Mountain Wilderness. 

The Russian Wilderness. 

Terrible air quality in the Trinity Alps Wilderness. 

Nearing the end of the smoke-filled skies as I hike east in the Castle Crags Wilderness. 

On the day that I hitched into the small village of Etna, CA, things were getting pretty bad.  As I waited for a ride on top of Etna Summit, I looked west at the spreading white veil.  "Who on earth would travel in that direction?" I thought.  I wasn't sure if anyone would be driving through such thick smoke.  Surprisingly, some weekenders were passing through and graciously took me downhill and eastward into Etna.  

While I was in town I met up with other hikers who were intending to hitch out of the smoke.  They were willingly bypassing huge sections of trail just to get back into the clear skies with unobstructed views!  I want my thru-hike to be a journey of continuous footsteps from Canada to Mexico, so the next day I hitched back uphill to Etna Summit.  Back into the Long White Tunnel.  

The Russian Wilderness, Trinity Alps Wilderness, Castle Crags Wilderness... they were all beautiful.  I know the smoke robbed me of vistas, but I guess I can say I had an authentic PCT wildfire experience!  One day in the Trinity Alps was so bad that I could actually taste the fire with every inhale.  What a strange sensation!

I increased my daily mileage as the trail headed east.  I was told by a few northbound hikers that there wasn't any smoke in Burney, CA.  That propelled me forward.  

When you're hiking, you spend a majority of your time staring at the trail itself (I often trip when gazing upon the views while walking).  This is especially true when your views are shrouded by smoke.   You'll notice lots of little lizards in Northern California.  I saw plenty of northern fickers near the trail, too.  They always fly away quickly, revealing their signature white rumps as they go.  But on this day I saw a track that I did not expect...

"What was that?!" I questioned aloud.  I actually stopped and retraced my steps.  I looked at the impression in the sandy trail.  One huge front footpad, five soft dimples representing toes.  I studied it intently for a few seconds, and moved on to find another one.  And another...

It sprinted faster than my own adrenaline could signal my fright.  In a flash, the black bear around the very next corner took off!  I was totally caught off-guard.  I never dreamed that I would be tracking a bear that was only 50 feet in front of me!  

Well, it only took 1,200 miles, but I finally saw my first bear on trail.  I'm still eagerly awaiting my first mountain lion sighting. 

The bear now a few miles behind me, I came to an open ridge with another immaculate view that I wasn't expecting to see — Mount Shasta!  I had escaped the 400-mile Long White Tunnel!  I decided to eat dinner at that very spot so I could watch the sunset.  It was stunning.  A top-5 sunset while on the PCT!  Shasta, you were worth the wait. 

Freshly out of water after cooking, I reasoned that I should hike downhill and camp near the next water source... Or!  I could stay and enjoy the views of the mountain that had eluded me since August 13th.  

My cowboy campsite, with Mount Shasta to my northwest. 

I stayed put for the night. 

The big bend in the Pacific Crest Trail around Mount Shasta had been completed.  Now I'm heading in a predominantly southerly course towards Mexico, with clear skies overhead!  

Every now and again I turn around to appreciate the views behind me.  I could spot Shasta from the notoriously dry Hat Creek Rim, potentially for the last time...

My sights were set on the PCT mid-point, which I reached on August 27th, exactly two months to the day of leaving the Canadian border. 

The PCT midpoint.  I made it half-way!

Wow!  What a journey so far!  I couldn't believe that only two months have elapsed on trail.  The days are so packed, that it has felt more like half a year!  

As I crested a hill at the end of the day, I looked back.  I could see the ridge where the PCT midpoint marker was located.  I could see the lakes near Chester, CA where I rested for a day.  I could even see Lassen Volcanic National Park that I cruised through the day before that...

...and in the fading light I caught a glimpse of an old friend.  Towering amongst the clouds was the snow-capped summit of Mount Shasta.  It looked so far away.  I'm sure this speck on the horizon would go unnoticed by 99% of northbound hikers. 

I think the long white tunnel made me cherish this view a bit more.

The Double Marathon

By Tyler Socash

IG: @tylerhikes

The eyes were staring back at me, unmoving.  It was 10 o'clock PM and I was off-trail desperately searching for a spring to replenish my empty water bladder.  I felt the burn of the gaze before turning to see it.  My stomach dropped.   "Just a deer..." I hoped.  Exhausted and parched, I clicked my trekking poles together and called out to my shadowy friend.  "Don't mind me, just a human looking for the watering hole," I assured the woodland creature. 

Pressing on I came to a pipe gate with a few tents nearby.  "This must be the way to the spring," I thought.  Opening the rusty gate created an ear-splitting creak that awoke my hiking kin.  "Sorry about that gang, I'm the worst."  It wasn't my goal to wake sleepy thru-hikers, but I felt safer with a gate now between me and the unknown megafauna in the woods behind me.  I was also too thirsty to care. 

Water!  It's an afterthought at home or at work.  Simply turn on the faucet and magically it appears.  Do we ever think where it's even coming from?  What a luxury!  On a thru-hike water is absolutely vital.  The elixir of life!  Your options on-trail are to filter or treat water from lakes/ponds/streams, or to find natural springs.  The west coast is enduring a historic five-year drought, so sometimes water is hard to come by. 

My thirst now quenched, I returned to the trail to find my mysterious creature — just a deer.  She scampered off into the new moon night and I looked down at my map.  "Nine miles to go," I muttered.  I was in the midst of my first double marathon, and I wasn't going to quit now. 

You'll hear about hiker challenges while on-trail.  The AT has the 4 State Challenge, hiking from Virginia through West Virginia, Maryland, and into Pennsylvania in a single day.  There's the Desert Challenge in Southern California, walking for 24 hours straight through the Mojave.  I was attempting a double marathon, 52.4 miles in a single go. 

Jumping on the summit of Devils Peak in the Sky Lakes Wilderness. 

Over the previous week I walked over lava fields, walked around the Three Sisters, summited Mount Thielsen, and jumped into the pristine blue waters of Crater Lake.  I was feeling very alive when I arrived at Devils Peak in the evening of August 9th.  

This would be my first night alone on trail since leaving Hart's Pass in northern Washington.  I wasn't sure if camping on "Devils Peak" would be a good omen.  Plus, I heard some conspicuous rockfall on the trail below the summit.  I strapped on my backpack and walked a few minutes down the scree field when I remembered a quote from Billygoat... "Drink it all in.... You might not find yourself here again."

I turned around.  I set my pack down.  Unrolled my ground tarp, inflated my sleeping pad, and zipped myself into my sleeping bag.  The summit of Devils Peak would be my resting place tonight.  

Not sure if these selfies are as flattering as I imagined them to be. 

Smoke filled the sky around me.  Before I left Crater Lake, a west rim fire was developing.  To the south, Northern California was burning.  Views would be shrouded tonight.  I turned to my maps.  If there would ever be a chance to pull off the elusive double marathon, tomorrow would be my day.  Callahan's Lodge was 80 miles away.  The Oregon/California border was over 100 miles away.  My birthday was coming up...

"What if I hiked four marathons in three days and jumped over the border at midnight on my birthday?"

A fun fact about me is that since the age of 20 I have spent part of each birthday in free fall.  Instead of going to the bars at 21, I convinced my whole family to jump off the Green Bridge with me into the welcoming waters of the mighty Moose River back home.  I usually jump at 11:59.59 so that I'm free fall at the moment I earn another lap around our sun.  Jumping over the Oregon/California border on the Pacific Crest Trail seemed to be a romantic enough way to spend my 29th!

In free fall a few days earlier at Crater Lake National Park - The Awesome Principle prevails!

The morning had come.  August 10th.  A Home Alone quote flashed in my head, "We slept in!   Ahhhhh!!!!"

I cruised through the Sky Lakes Wilderness.  I actually ran downhill when the tread was favorable to make up time lost in the morning light.  I stopped to talk to NOBO's, but I was still traveling over 4 miles per hours downhill.  Mount McLoughlin, which last night looked so far away in the southern sky, was behind me in the late-afternoon.  One marathon down. One to go. 

As I contoured around Brown Mountain I walked tediously over lava rock.  It was tough on the soles of my feet, but too amazing to complain about.  Walking on lava is amazing when you compare it to sitting at a desk. 

I've completed two running marathons in my life.  Those are physically and mentally exhausting.  After walking from Canada to Mount McLoughlin in southern Oregon, a hiking marathon doesn't hurt that badly.  It's the 2nd marathon that hurts.  

Legs and lava rock. 

My conversations with NOBOs became curt.  I apologized to some of them and mentioned that I was attempting a double marathon, 52.4 miles.  They let me go with their well wishes.  I needed their encouragement.  As I walked by I shouted my recommendations for camping sites, water sources, and free Wi-fi passwords at rest stops ahead.  This was my way of saying, "thank you" for a premature southbound departure.  

Darkness fell when I ate my Mountain House dehydrated meal.  I added in a packet of Chicken Ramen for good measure.  Headlamp on, I walked uphill. Stepping over fallen trees became a struggle.  I could feel muscle fibers tearing as I stretched over the obstacles. Now this felt like the Rochester Marathon!  

"Callouses be damned!" the blisters shouted.  My feet ached and my legs quaked when I stopped to search for the piped spring at the top of the hill.  Out of water, I hoped that the spring would be running.  That's when encountered the deer and the squeaky fence.  9 miles to go... I'd be hiking past 1am to finish. 

This was already my longest hike on the PCT when I made my descent.  Any long-distance runner will say how important your mental state is during an endurance race.  Good thing I never quit!

Onward I went, shuffling my feet at times, taking brief rests on logs and rocks near the trail.  When I reached my final climb, I was nearly defeated. 

My double marathon victory had one final hurdle before arriving at mile 915. 

The last ascent was the worst, but the thought of actually completing a double marathon propelled me forward.  I turned on my music and selected, "Shuffle."  In amazement, when I needed laughter the most, one of my friend's songs played loud and clear in the forest near Hyatt Lake.  "New Girl in Town."  Before leaving Rochester for the Pacific Crest Trail, my best buddy handed me a CD with all of his amazingly goofy music on it.  "Just in case you need some inspiration," he half-jokingly quipped.  If you watched my YouTube video, "A Hike of Ice and Fire," you've already heard his music if you played the video through the outro.  

In my time of need, New Girl in Town brought a smile to my face.  I made it over that last hill.  I made it past mile 915 and crash landed on the side of the trail after surpassing the 52.4 mile mark.  

I set a seemingly impossible goal, and I achieved it!

The morning after a double marathon

I hiked another marathon the next day.  I wasn't sure if I could do it, but it happened.  You can push your body to do incredible things if you really want something.  I wanted the all-you-can-eat spaghetti dinner at Callahan's Lodge off of I-5.  

On my birthday I woke up and hiked one more marathon to the Oregon/California border.  Before my birthday expired, I jumped...

The jump at 11:59.59

... I landed in California. 

A Story About A Horse

By Tyler Socash 

IG: @tylerhikes

"Do you want to know the most beautiful thing I've ever seen?"  I was enthralled. The legendary Billygoat, a 76-year old man who has hiked the Pacific Crest Trail 9.5 times, was about to unveil a masterpiece.  I was honored to sit adjacent to him at Timberline Lodge.   With a twinkle in his eye he summoned a memory that had our entire breakfast table riveted... 

Arriving at Timberline Lodge is no easy task for thru-hikers.  Sure, you can easily drive there, or fly your helicopter there as Steven Tyler did a couple hours before I arrived, but hiking there is another matter. Southbounders start in the Columbia River Gorge, scarcely above sea level, and hike up to 6,000ft in a hurry.  From the Lodge you're only 3.6 miles from the top of Oregon — Mount Hood. 

Mount Hood - 11,249ft. - has a ~5% chance of erupting in the next 30 years.  

Before leaving the Cascade Locks Post Office and setting out for Timberline, I met a guy who had been chasing me down for 400 miles.  "What's your trail name?" a stranger asked me.  "Future Dad!" I responded with enthusiasm.  My name is typically met with laughter or an appropriately presumptuous, "Congratulations!"  This time I received a response that I hadn't heard before... 

"So you're 'Future Dad.'  I've been trying to catch you since Stehekin!"  His name was Mantis, and at 6' 5" I just met my tallest hiking partner, new best friend, and newest PCT character.  He looked relieved to meet me, as he hiked throughout much of Washington alone — the typical PCT southbound experience.  

From my perspective, meeting Mantis happened at the right time.  With Wildfire and Half Jesus taking some zeros after reaching Oregon, I was able to venture south with my new hiking partner.  We saw stuff like this:

Behind Tunnel Falls on the Eagle Creek Trail!

Tunnel Falls - Oregon's most popular trail. 

Mantis and Future Dad swimming beneath Tunnel Falls!

Ramona Falls!  This place is awesome!

Mantis and I are compatible hikers.  We both enjoy the views, we hike relatively fast, and we swim a lot.  We seem to make the most out of every trail mile, which is something that I appreciated about my journey thus far with Wildfire and Half Jesus.  We all embrace the awesomeness of nature around us. 

I felt like we arrived at Timberline Lodge exactly when we were supposed to.  While in line for the breakfast buffet (I was first in line, hikers talk about the Timberline buffet all the time) a woman asked me if we'd be interested in forming a PCT table.  The Awesome Principle forced me to say, "Yes!" without hesitation.  She quickly added, "Well you're in luck.  You are about to meet a legend."

I knew who he was.  I had seen that long white beard before.  It was Billygoat.  Only one person has hiked the PCT more times, but no one has spent as much time hiking on trail as him.  Once when asked where he was from, Billygoat famously replied, "Here," referring to the trail. 

I was awestruck at first.  Mantis and I were eating the famous Timberline breakfast (unlimited smoothies and everything for $14.95) next to the guy that the guidebooks mention.  Billygoat has made a lot of lasting memories over the years.  He has done the Appalachian Trail multiple times, walked the Erie Canal, hiked the Colorado Trail four times and climbed most of the 14,000ft. peaks there...  He's on track to hike 50,000 miles by the ripe age of 80!  With all of the time he'd spent outside, I knew he'd have some epic wildlife stories, so I asked about his favorite moment while hiking. 

The room felt heavy, and all other sounds muffled out when Billygoat turned to me and asked, "Do you want to know the most beautiful thing I've ever seen?"  I leaned forward, swallowing a mouthful of chocolate chip pancakes, obviously interested in what would come next.  "I was walking the Continental Divide Trail near the Great Basin in Wyoming.  Remote.  Vast.  Endless."  It was as if Billygoat had been transported back. I leaned closer.  "The basin was filled with 200, yes, 200 wild horses!  Wild horses that were galloping and playing as if they didn't have a care in the world!  I couldn't believe my eyes.  Five of them broke off from the herd and decided to get a closer look at this man who was watching them in admiration.  They slowed from a canter to a trot when one of them approached me individually.  The mare flicked his mane while looking right at me.  Do you know what that horse said?  He was saying, not in English, 'Come on, come play with me!'  It was a beautiful thing.  That horse was talking to me!"  Billygoat flicked his head, imitating the horse's beckoning.  We dared not to interrupt.  "And I replied to him, in English, 'I would, but I can't run that fast.'"

It was a powerful story.  It brought a tear to my eye.  I felt lucky to hear it.  I hope to hear more stories like that. 

A lot happened after leaving Timberline, too much to mention here.  I experienced amazing trail magic (ask me about my 2nd Timberline experience in person), I camped on the actual Oregon Trail at Barlow Pass, I even hiked with Billygoat for part of the next day.  These are stories  that I'll treasure forever.  

Mantis and I hiked past the next intimidating Cascade, Mount Jefferson, together.  We heard about a camp site that we couldn't miss, and we even hiked 34 miles one day to get there.  This was our spot...

Mount Jefferson at sunset, Oregon's second-tallest peak.  Sweet volcano!

My last view north of Mount Rainier (far left), Mount Hood, and Olallie Butte at sunrise.  

The trail south to Three Fingered Jack. 

Oregon has been spectacular so far.  This whole journey has been so fun!  I'll update you all again soon.  I apologize in advance if I quote Billygoat for the rest of my life. 

I recently bumped into a woman from Wyoming while on trail.  Before parting ways I asked her, "Does the Great Basin in Wyoming really have hundreds of wild horses roaming around?"

"Yes it does.  And it's the most breathtakingly beautiful thing you would ever see..."

  

For Purple Mountain Majesties

By Tyler Socash

IG: @tylerhikes

The trail will challenge you emotionally, physically, and mentally during your thru-hike.  I just happened to ride that triad of roller coasters within a 24-hour time span.

I set out from White Pass at 6pm alone.  This was strange.  Thus far I had been hiking with Half Jesus and Wildfire throughout the state of Washington, but I had different ambitions than my hiking comrades in this upcoming section — I wanted to do a high traverse in the Goat Rocks Wilderness. 

Ever since we met a northbounder named Impala (2nd to finish the Pacific Crest Trail northbound this year) in the Alpine Lakes Wilderness, we heard from every single northbound hiker how amazing the Goat Rocks were.  Most people remarked how they wished they had spent more time in that region.  Hailing from New York State, I couldn't imagine another time in the near future that I would find myself back here, so I decided to venture out by myself to spend more quality time with the wilderness. 

The initial ascent out of a resupply town is always difficult.  You carry large amounts of food, large amounts of water, and therefore your pack weight is substantial.  I was carrying a 40lb. pack. With Cascade Locks, OR over 150 miles away, I wanted to ensure that I had enough food for the journey.  

Thousands of vertical feet and many miles later, I made it to Shoe Lake Basin and the top of the ridge.  Even though my shoulders ached under the weight of my pack, the idea of witnessing my first sunset behind Mount Rainier propelled me onward.  

When I set my pack down, I was in awe. The clouds were perfect, and the sun was still above the horizon... This would be one of the greatest sunsets of my life. 

Goat Rocks in the distance.  Excited for the sunset!

The inspirational sunset behind Mount Rainier. 

When it happened I was invigorated!  I felt like John Muir, Bob Marshall, or Edward Abbey would have agreed that this was an exceptional sunset from an extraordinary location.  I sat there for an hour as the sky turned into a Crayola crayon canvas.  Every color was on display.  The mountains actually turned purple in the foreground.  "For purple mountain majesties!" I sang aloud. I felt alive, and I was very happy that I embarked out on this section in time to witness my greatest moment on trail.  

The sunset was so grand that I wondered, "If I night hike, perhaps I can reach the Goat Rocks in time for an epic sunrise?"  I pushed through the dark forest and donned my trusty headlamp.  I was intimidated at first, but no animal wants to mess with a loud human in the dark, so I pushed onward with confidence.  Something to think about, because someone will eventually ask thru-hikers about this: over 30,000 people have died in car accidents each year in the United States since 1945.  Only a couple of bear attacks happen every year.  You can pull this stuff up on Wikipedia if you'd like.  I think I'll take my chances in places like Goat Rocks Wilderness.  No I'm not afraid of bears or mountain lions... I'm afraid of sharing the road with people in steel machines that are going 65+ mph!

Mount Rainier and alpine flora in the safe Goat Rocks Wilderness!

The next morning I made it to the highly-anticipated Knife's Edge of the Pacific Crest Trail in Goat Rocks.  This is when I began experiencing euphoria...

A happy Tyler!

Don't drop off this knife edge!

Mount Saint Helens in the distance... I wonder where the top half of the mountain went?...

On top of Old Snowy - the beginning of my off-trail traverse. 

When I climbed Old Snowy, I felt like I had made it to heaven.  I saw herds of elk and mountain goats in the valleys below, I saw Mount Saint Helens, Mount Rainier, Mount Adams... They were all there!  I could even spy the Alpine Lakes Wilderness mountains and Glacier Peak in the north.  I felt so accomplished walking all this way in just a few weeks.  I remembered looking out of that airplane window and seeing all of these sentinels below... Now I was walking beyond them!

I felt a rush of emotion.  I cried, and that's OK because Jim Valvano said it was one of the three things you should do everyday — "have your emotions moved to tears."   I couldn't  believe that this was my life and my journey.  I couldn't believe how utterly gorgeous the wilderness was.  All at once I missed my family and my friends.  I wish they could have been up on Old Snowy with me.  Unbridled happiness and adrenaline pumped through me.  That's when I remembered Impala's suggestion from two weeks ago... "Stay high." 

I assumed he meant the ridgeline, and when I saw Ives Peak in the distance I knew that I had to give it a shot. I would summit Ives and contour to a ridge that met up with the PCT at Cispus Pass.  Easy right?  I was so incredibly wrong, but my emotional high had me pressing along the talus fields. 

It happened rather quickly.  It started with a misstep, led to a few cuts, and resulted in a rockslide.  I heard people on the PCT below shouting, "Rock fall!"  I jumped towards larger rocks and escaped with only a few small scars that still haven't faded.  The rock tumbled forever, but luckily not anywhere near the trail below.  I turned around. I was scared.

I fully intended to return to the trail down the Old Snowy alternate.  When I climbed back up to the summit of Old Snowy I was shocked to be confronted by a beautiful girl hiking in a sports bra and her parents.  "Where yah heading?!" the older, yet spry man asked.  "Well, I was thinking about traversing to Ives Peak and beyond before eventually returning to the PCT, but I just started a rock fall and spooked myself out."  The older man with his wry wit responded, "You're heading the wrong way if you want to summit Ives.  Just stay on the very top of the ridge and negotiate the cliffs and glaciers.  I did it when I was younger."  Now the pressure was on, and Future Dad wasn't going to back out now, especially with a cute girl nearby.  "Alright, I'll try it again!" I proclaimed. 

After a nice conversation, I hiked through stuff like this...

Mount Adams through a hidden arch!  Naturally, I had to walk through it. 

Just about to climb off this glacier with my 40lb. pack and go up some Class 4 rocks to get up Ives Peak.  Sorry Mom!!!

Looking back at my traverse - the greatest hiking experience of my life!

Finally atop Ives, I was pumped.  Super pumped.  Emotionally, I was feeling excellent.  But on the descent something happened.  It started with a few pebbles getting into my boots.  They were in there hours ago, but due to my adrenaline rush and the inherent danger in an exposed hike like this I hardly noticed them.  During the descent my rush was fading, and the pain was mounting.  Every scree field on the way down seemed to pound more and more pebbles into the balls of my feet.  I emptied my ankle-high boots a few times, but to no avail.  The rocks found a way in.  

After a few hours I finally made it back to the actual Pacific Crest Trail, but something was horribly wrong.  I felt physically defeated for the first time on trail.  I walked all the way from Canada to Goat Rocks in southern Washington with no problems... Until that descent. 

I took off my boots after Cispus Pass.  That's when I noticed the blood.  My socks helped to stop the bleeding, but my toes were still oozing.  Yes, it was gross. 

Upset Tyler only hours after summiting Old Snowy.  I took this photo intentionally - to remind myself that the PCT isn't all sunshine and roses.  Well, actually, there is a lot of sunshine.  It never rains out here.

After an attempt to wrap my feet with tape and moleskin, I could only move 2 more miles that day.  I collapsed on trail and rolled off it to a small campsite with one spot left.  It was only 5pm, my earliest campsite destination so far, but I needed to stop.  Physically I could not move on.  The other two spots were occupied by Lost and Found & All Day Long.  We had our typical "Northbounder meets Southbounder" conversation. "Have you seen Tin Man, Magic, Impala, Bi-Polar, Kiester?" they inquired.  Some I had, and some I had not.  "What was your favorite part of the trail?" I asked robotically.  I quickly added, "Mine was nearly today until I hurt my feet." It was All Day Long who told me then, "The trail will challenge you emotionally, physically, and mentally during your thru-hike."  He also added, "What you need is Leuko tape, that stuff is the best when it comes to fixing blisters and caring for your feet."  I didn't have Leuko tape.  I didn't even have Half Jesus or Wildfire with me.  I was in a bad place...  

The mental part came that next morning.  My two campsite friends left by 6am.  I was afraid to look at my feet.  They throbbed.  I knew I wouldn't be able to put my boots on.  I actually felt defeated. I thought, "Wow, maybe I can't do this.  Maybe I won't make it to Mexico..."  Nearly half of all thru-hikers who set out on this cross-country 2,650-mile quest never complete their journey.  Injury plays a heavy factor.  

I just laid in my sleeping bag.  7am. 8am. 9am.  The hours went by.  That's when I saw him.  Bobbing along the trail with a great white beard was a man that All Day Long referred to last night.  With the warmest of tones the man said, "Oh, hello down there!"  "Are you 'Bi-Polar?'" I asked.  "Yup, that's me!"  Bi-Polar has an excellent reputation  on trail.  Everyone loves him.  Hiking legends are praised along the trail, and word spreads about the not-so-friendly hikers too — sometimes hundreds of trail miles in both directions. 

In addition to becoming a legendary character during this 2015 season, Bi-Polar apparently has a controversial blog.  Find it if you can!  

Even though he was pressing hard for Canada, Bi-Polar was more than generous with his time. We talked for an hour!  We connected over other long-distance hiking trails, like the Ice Age Trail in Wisconsin.  We talked about the negative consequences of hydrofracking.  We talked about the fact that only 2.7% of the Lower 48 States is classified as wilderness.  In the end, I saw him as a genuine man with a gentle soul.  Unprompted, Bi-Polar asked how I was feeling.  I told him about the sunset over Rainier, the herds of elk, the Knife's Edge, Old Snowy, the rock fall, the spry older man, my traverse, and the condition of my feet.  

"You know, what you need Future Dad is some Leuko tape... And it just so happens that I have some for you.  My feet don't blister anymore.  You can have it."

It was as if a heavenly angel had descended upon my campsite. Just as quickly as he dispensed his unexpected trail magic, Bi-Polar was gone.  

I finally removed my legs from my bag and applied the Leuko tape.  I slipped into my hiking boots.  It felt like stepping into comfy slippers on Christmas Day.  That's when Wildfire wheeled around the corner, shocked to see me so soon.  My reaction upon her timely arrival was joyous!  Things came together perfectly...  Almost too perfectly.  

Wildfire and I hiked south.  We hiked with gusto.  We walked past Mount Adams, spent time in rural Trout Lake, encountered the most magnificent Trail Angels near Panther Creek Campground, and crossed Bridge of the Gods into Oregon together, with Half Jesus only a few hours behind!  

The reflection of Mount Adams in the wake of my emotional highs and physical/mental lows.  What a great swim!

If you'd like to see what the PCT in Washington State looks like, check out my original video via this link: https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=eTKVK7uib_A&feature=youtu.be

I'm in Oregon now, pushing south.  Walking through Washington took me just under a month.  515 miles complete! Over 2,000 daunting miles to go!  Ahead of me lies more hardship, more sunsets, more magic.  The author Donald Miller wrote that, "The mountains themselves call us into greater stories."  I can only hope that more of these future mountains are purple.