Prologue

March 5, 2004
"The creeks… are an active mystery, fresh every minute. Theirs is the mystery of the continuous creation and all that providence implies: the uncertainty of vision, the horror of the fixed, the dissolution of the present, the intricacy of beauty, the pressure of fecundity, the elusiveness of the free and the flawed nature of perfection. The mountains… are a passive mystery, the oldest of all. Theirs is the one simple mystery of creation from nothing, of matter itself, anything at all, the given. Mountains are giant, restful, absorbent. You can heave your spirit into a mountain and the mountain will keep it, folded, and not throw it back as some creeks will. The creeks are the world with all its stimulus and beauty; I live there. But the mountains are home."

Annie Dillard, "Pilgrim at Tinker Creek"

It is now, finally, time for me to go home.

Over the past months, this idea of hiking the Pacific Crest Trail has gradually gone from life goal to pipe dream to fantasy to plan. There was no real "deciding point" for us somehow over time, it just became the thing we knew we would do next. For all of this time, however, despite the growing equipment lists and piles or gear in our overstuffed apartment, the notion of the trail for me has had a sense of unreality about it. Until the last week that is. All of a sudden I realize that the time is coming SOON when we will really embark on this journey. Maybe it's the pack that I will carry slowly taking shape in Dave's hands, maybe it's the fact that I have finally given notice at work, maybe it's the snow melting around us, maybe it's the plane tickets we've bought, maybe It's the fact that the ski marathons I've been training for all winter are over… whatever the reason the PCT is now the most real thing in my life. Of course the problem is that now the anticipation is killing me, and it's still seven long weeks away!

-Lexi

March 11, 2004
My first memory of thru hikers is when I was a kid section hiking the AT with my family. We shared the Gentian Pond Shelter in Maine with a bunch of them. They were self-sufficient, confident, strong, and hairy. They had weird looking stoves. They had already started hiking by the time I got up. They had walked all the way from Georgia. They had a dream and they were living it. I wanted to be like them, and I still do.

About ten years ago, we created our first "refrigerator list". Its a scrap of paper with our dreams written down. Seeing it every time you go for the milk is a constant reminder to make those dreams a reality. Some are easy, but others (AT/CDT/PCT, or Open Bakery) clearly require a bit more planning and commitment. I've had a contract with myself to do this hike for a long time.

In September of 2000, I hiked Vermont's Long Trail solo. I had a fabulous time, but was a little disappointed to reach the border monument after only 23 days. I had just started to feel truly comfortable with the routine and pattern of hiking. I wanted to keep going.

Going to Campo and heading north has long seemed inevitable. I'm excited to start on this adventure. Just a few more weeks to go.

-Dave

March 17, 2004
So… the big why. (As in why would a well adjusted overeducated 32 year old quit a moderately rewarding professional job to face hordes of mosquitoes, steep snow slopes, waterless desert, aching muscles, and no doubt other things that I have never even thought of.) It seems perfectly obvious to me, but it's not for my mother, so this entry is in her honor.

Because it is there (with apologies to sir Edmund!)
Because I've dreamt about it for so long
Because I want to know if I can
Because if I don't go, I know I will regret it
Because I want to stretch myself physically and emotionally to the limit
Because the thought of putting it off any longer makes my heart sink and my stomach churn
Because I am most truly myself when I am in the mountains
Because I crave freedom
Because I want the independence and simplicity that comes from knowing that I can live for weeks on end on the contents of a pack that I can carry on my back
Because I want to know what it feels like to spend months in the wilderness away (for the most part) from the clutter of human civilization
Because I want to go on the adventure of a lifetime with my life partner

The truth of the matter is, though, that I'm beginning to get a little nervous. We went on a hike over the weekend and the same knee problem that I had last spring after running a marathon flared up again. What if my body doesn't hold up to the rigors of the trail? I've been trying not to dwell on this possibility, and somehow, having given voice to these concerns, I already feel better, but it is still a nagging worry in the back of my mind. I don't think anything has felt more right to me in my life than going on this hike (with the exception, perhaps, of marrying Dave) so I have to believe that it will work out. There's nothing I can do now except rest, stretch, and hope. Oh yes, and finish all the planning, dehydrating, gear making, and gear purchasing, that we still have to do!!!

-Lexi

March 20, 2004
A couple of weeks ago we got our fully authorized "Permit to Enter Canada via the PCT". It seems a bit presumptuous to assume that we'll successfully reach the end, but that is part of planning anything complicated and uncertain. I have faith, because I must, that we can and will finish the trail. But that is not my only goal. I hope to make new friends, to breathe in the beauty of the world, to be at ease with the daily journey, and to keep dreaming. This hike had better not be my last dream.

I imagine that other people are concerned with rattlesnakes, steep snowy passes, the nonexistent trail in Washington, and marital discord, but I have other fears. When I hiked the Long Trail, I lost 15 pounds in 23 days. It would have been 16 pounds if I hadn't eaten french fries, onion rings, mozzarella sticks, a veggie burger, a milkshake, and ice cream all in one sitting at the Whistlestop. Can I keep my body adequately nourished for the long haul? Over the winter, we learned how to cross country ski comfortably (somewhat) at -11F. We ate a lot, dressed wisely, slathered on the Vaseline, and kept on truckin'. The southern Californian desert could easily be 100 degrees warmer. I hope that I'll quickly adapt to the hot temperatures. For now, I'll just drink a big glass of water.

-Dave

April 9, 2004
Holy Crow!! It's almost time! Last week, (was it just last week?) I finished up my job. I endured goodbyes (which included a bowling party!) I saw my boss for the last time. (He still thinks I'm hiking the "pacific rim trail". It might be nice to visit all those volcanoes, but the underwater hiking would be tough!) Finally, I was able to focus on this undertaking we're planning full time. After a day of total panic, we made lists, settled down, and got to work.

And now, I've just finished taping up our first re-supply box to Warner Springs. I've made enough tofu jerky to feed a small army of soy nuts, parceled out dehydrated tomato sauce and Indian lentils to our re-supply boxes, and even cleaned the kitchen. We're only sending ourselves a very small amount of "special" food. I don't know how people re-supply the whole trip from the beginning. Our tiny apartment has been chaotic enough with just the little we've been doing.

It still seems like we have an enormous amount left to do. But I guess that's good as it gives us no time to actually be nervous. We'll have to wait to get on the plane for that!

-Lexi

April 10, 2004
I've never been the most extroverted popular person. Probably like most thru-hikers, team sports never really worked out. Loud packed parties cause me to run screaming in the opposite direction. So, its been a little peculiar to have had two or three dinner dates a week for the last month. I hope that its because everyone is so interested to hear about our planning, and not that they don't expect to see us again.

Between all our appointments, we're packing up all the stuff we're not leaving with our very friendly apartment sitters. We've got it pretty easy, because it is not all that much stuff. Since the weather is nice, we're combining this with liberal spring cleaning. We're counting down the days now! Pretty soon we'll say goodbye to our jeans, bed, houseplants, homebrew, and almost dead car. I'm really looking forward to just walking.

-Dave

April 16, 2004
After the few final days of unmitigated chaos, we left Montpelier! It was rather stunning to see the floor clean. For weeks it had been impossible to vacuum up the dust bunnies and stray threads because there were so many random boxes piled all over the place. Our storage unit is so full that it might take a magic wand to get it open. But that's fine. The insane to-do list is gone.

Soon we'll just be walking. See ya at the Kick Off, we'll be in site #80.

-Dave

April 22, 2004
We are finally in San Diego, having completed a whirl-wind tour of the northeast to see a large number of our friends. Yesterday in transit, our luggage was fully inspected and detected by the appropriate authorities. Fortunately, though the fine folks of the Transportation Safety Authority did open our food box, they appear to have left all of our snickers bars untouched. Perhaps the bomb sniffing dogs thought our box smelled like dinner prompting them to pay a little too much attention to it!

This morning, we spent our first, of what I assume will be many mornings, searching the aisles of a random grocery store for lunch and afterwards sitting on the curb eating!

Tonight we'll be staying with Bob Reiss, organizer of the ADZPCTKO. Tomorrow at first light he'll give us a ride to the start of the PCT, in Campo. We'll stick our toes across the border into Mexican soil, and turn north. Wheee!

-Lexi

Making Lexi's pack

Tofu jerky?

Packing up for the plane

in the lovely airport of Kansas City, Missouri

eating a 39 cent (!) mango in San Diego

hikers at the home of Bob Reiss in San Diego