ADZPCTKO (No, I didn't mash on the keyboard)

By the time you read this, I'll be at the Annual Day Zero Pacific Crest Trail Kick Off (ADZPCTKO), "Kick Off" for short and the subject of this post. I like that they went with the most unpronouncable acronym of all time. It somehow appeals to me.

Okay, great, you're thinking, but what the hell is it? Keep your panties on. The Kick Off is a big get-together at the start of the trail (actually, at mile 20, at Lake Morena Campground, see the placemark on the map), where hikers can, according to their website,

shed those butterflies that inevitably precede a life-altering experience like hiking the PCT by showing you the broad spectrum of strategies that have been successful in the past and those of your fellow 2011 PCTers. Additionally, it provides a low-key gathering in which you can begin the friendships that inevitably evolve from such a journey.

There will be gear vendors, presentations, food, and a lot of socializing. So in a way it's a bit like Trail Days, the big hiker festival on the Appalachian Trail. I hear the Kick Off is more laid back than the frenzied, drug and alcohol fueled shenanigans of Trail Days, but I can't say for sure.

The Plan: along with K-Bomb, my hiking partner, start at the border on Thursday, and take it easy on the way to the Kick Off. We could probably do it in one day, but are planning on taking those 20 miles easy, camp around mile 16 or so, then mosey in early on Friday. Neither of us have trained much, and with the incredible, near-record snow year in the Sierras, we have plenty of time to kill those first 700 miles. Let that snow melt a bit.

Then, Friday and Saturday we will enjoy the festivities, then Sunday hike out once and for all. We're both pretty damn excited. I for one have been thinking about doing this hike since, well, there was talk of it on the AT in 2008. Of course, I was waffling over whether or not to hike until last August, when I decided to face my fears and just do it. It's never as bad as you think it will be.

Here's hoping, anyways.

Pictures and Updates

Dear devoted readers (?),

I've mentioned this before, but I'll say it again. I can't guarantee a ton of updates here. I don't have any way to do so from the trail, no PocketMail or fancy iPhone, and will be depending on town stops, hostel stays, and whatever random internet access I might come across. I enjoy writing, and enjoy sharing my adventures with "the folks back home," and will make an effort.

But the PCT is much more of a wilderness trail than the AT was. There are fewer towns, and many of them are much farther away from the trail than AT trail-towns, making it a much more serious thing to decide to hop into town for this or that. Still, a man needs to eat, and I'll likely be in a resupply area once a week or so. If there's internet to be had, I'll try to do so, though many such resupply locations aren't really in towns, but are camp stores, country stores, and the like. Oregon and Washington particularly are farther in the back-country, with resupply at mountain resorts and such, rather than towns.

I'll try, but not at the expense of the flow of the hike.

Lastly, don't count on tons of photos. I don't know that I'll be able to add any at all, unless I decide to take my USB cable/card reader. It's extra weight (every bit counts) and I don't know if it's worth it. It'd be fun to entertain you with photos of what I know will be stunning scenery and awesome people, but I just don't know. May stop by Best Buy to see if I can find one with less cable (thus less weight). The one I have has a 4 ft or so cable, which is ridiculous. And I'm already carrying a phone, phone charger, camera charger, and an MP3 player, which is already excessive in my mind.

I may be able to load photos onto a CD at drugstores, and thus provide occasional photo posts, which at the moment seems a better option to me, though I'm not sure how feasible it actually will be. But know that I have you all in mind, and will try to provide the eye candy I know you so greatly desire.

Respectfully yours,

Moccasin

EDIT: I ended up buying a cordless USB adapter, so that's one step closer to you getting pictures to look at. Another issue might be time limits at the library. But, we'll see.

A Word About the Map

Just a quick note to potential and actual followers of this blog and my PCT hike. The map over to the right will be updated along with the blog. At times I may update only the map, if I only have a few moments to update, so watch for that. Or I may add several placemarks when I get into town, not just one for the town itself, in an effort to provide more info. I didn't have a map on my simple AT blog (I was such a noob back then), so we'll just have to see how this works.

Of course, I don't really know what I'm in for out there. Maybe I'll neglect the map. Maybe I'll neglect the blog altogether. Don't know. Hope not.

But, those little blue placemarks are clickable. Go ahead, click one. You'll see the location name, and a little note below about the location. For map-oriented people like me, it's nice to be able to plug an incident into a location on a map.

Also, I tried to get the map a bit more zoomed in than it is, so it wouldn't show so much of Canada and Mexico, but Google doesn't allow fine tuning on its embedded maps. I have it on the 4 zoom level, and if I go to 5 it's way too close, cuts SoCal and Washington out completely. But of course you can zoom in at will, it's a fully functional map, just double-click with the left mouse button to go in, and double-click with the right button to go out. Or just use the +/- buttons on the map itself. Finally, you may, by left-clicking, hold-and-drag to shift the map around. I'm sure I way over-explained this, but this way there's no confusion.

Enjoy!

Maildrops Done!

Ah. So, I believe I have my maildrops set up. Thank the Lord. It's been so stressful thinking about this; how to plan for situations I've never been in, when half the variables are unknown (how fast will I be hiking? Will this or that store be open yet? How willing will I be to take extra time off in towns?). I hate planning, especially on a thru-hike, which is so much about freedom, being in the moment, and living simply, day to day.

Anyway, Here's the list:

• Agua Dulce (maps only)
• Kennedy Meadows
• South Lake Tahoe (maps only)
• Belden (maps only)
• Ashland (maps only)
• Crater Lake at Mazama Village
• Cascade Locks (maps only)

I had planned a drop at Vermillion Valley Resort, but figure I'll hope the store and hiker boxes are stocked enough for a couple days, at which point I will be able to get into Mammoth Lakes for full resupply. When I scrapped that idea, I had all this food sitting in my room, and figured I'd box it up and send it to Crater Lake, where I planned a drop anyways, but one to be sent from the trail.

I was also going to send a drop to Tuolumne Meadows, at least maps, but with the crazy heavy snow year (near record) it may not be open in time, at least not in enough time to get a package sent there. I hope it will be open and I can grab some food from their store. If it opens early and I hear about it, it's likely I will send a small drop there from the trail

And that's exactly my plan for the rest of my maildrops. Much of the Trail in Oregon, and Washington for that matter, doesn't go by towns much. Instead "resupply" points are at ski resorts and the like, and the resupply is pretty iffy. So I'll probably send a big batch of drops from Ashland, OR to the Oregon resorts, and do the same from Cascade Locks, OR for the Washington section. No sense mailing it all the way across the country, and anyways I don't really have a resupply person as such. My sister said she or my bro-in-law would send out the few drops I do have. But I don't want to leave a ton of stuff for them to do.

The boxes for Kennedy Meadows (the 2 on the right) are rather funny. I may or may not be oversupplied for it, but I do know those boxes feel heavy. Two large Flat Rate Priority Mail boxes stuffed with food and warm clothing. Those, plus my ice axe, which is a mess of cardboard and tape. Looks kinda scary, I hope the PO will ship it!

Gear List

For all you gearheads, here's what I'm taking. I don't have all the brand names, and this isn't quite finalized, especially the clothing. There's probably some odds and ends I'm forgetting, but this gives the gist of it.

Big Three:

• ULA Catalyst internal frame pack
• Etowah standard 8 x 10 nylon tarp, camo print
• Marmot Helium 15 degree down sleeping bag

Kitchen:

• Snowpeak titanium mini solo cookset
• hobo stove
• pop can alcohol stove
• fuel bottle (aquafina 16.7 oz bottle)
• spoon
• bandana
• lighters (2)
• REI stuff sack for food bag

Water:

• two 1L Gatorade bottles, and a gallon milk jug (may substitute a 2L pop bottle)
• Aquamira

Clothing:

• polypro long johns, top and bottom
• convertable pants
• swimming shorts (may get some running shorts instead)
• short sleeve shirt from REI (nylon?)
• Colombia long sleeve button down shirt
• fleece sweater
• rain jacket (may replace with a lighter one)
• Dri Clime windshirt (maybe)
• socks: 2 pair wool ankle socks, 2 pair liner type socks (not for use as liners,  though) and one pair heavy wool sleeping socks. Probably too many socks.
• floppy wide brim hat from Target
• $20 sunglasses from Walmart (polarized)
• warm knit hat
• La Sportiva trail runners
• homemade sandals for camp

Other:

• Opinel knife
• cheap blue sleeping pad
• Black Diamond headlamp
• Photon II mini-light
• MP3 player
• Phone and charger
• Nikon Coolpix s500 digital camera (mine is stylish, in black)
• camera battery charger
• Leki Malaku Tour trekking poles
• journal and pen
• rope
• toiletries
• first aid kit (minimal)

For the Sierras:

• Black Diamond ice axe
• bear canister
• REI down vest
• mosquito head net
• gloves (with the mitten covers that pull on and off)
• even heavier wool sleep socks

Half of this stuff I either found (headlamp, foam pad, warm hat), made (stoves, sandals), or already had, which explains why the swimming shorts. I'm pretty good at getting by with what I've got, making do, and am not afraid. Compared to what heavy, clunky gear I hiked with on the Appalachian Trail, like my 5 or 6 pound $50 external frame pack, I think this time around is going to be better no matter what.

On Living the Dream

Just got back from a quick trip down to Austin, to visit K-Bomb (Kevin, that is), one of my AT hiking buddies and my partner for the PCT. Had to put my few belongings in storage, and he was kind enough to share his storage unit with me. I already feel lighter. It was good to see him again.

It's so much easier to plan face to face. We decided against a maildrop we'd planned, which simplifies things, made some general plans for further down the trail, where we might need maildrops there, and various other resupply options, discussed gear, clothing, etc. I don't know about him, but I feel pretty well satisfied and settled on those issues. Not that we set anything in stone (far from it), but somehow this visit clarified things.

We also watched Wizards of the PCT, which I recommend to anyone interested in a window into thru-hiking (I'm talkin' to you, family!). It's a film made by a thru-hiker as he made his way to Canada, and it has me now very geeked to get hiking. Though actually, I know it won't really hit home until I'm out there. I tend to live in the moment, and right now, fact is I'm still in Texas, breathing Texas air, sneezing on Texas pollen. Right now, I'm just riding the momentum towards the trail, but am still pretty calm over it. I'm just not the giddy, excitable type. I know I'll be deeply happy to be out there, though.

Only six more days to go before I fly to San Diego, and get this all in motion. That's the key, here. It's the waiting that's hard. Not just the excitement, the anticipation, but the anxiety. It's sometimes hard to live such an unconventional life. No one around me really understands this need to be out there. My coworkers sure didn't; they were interested, asked about it, but in the end, I was mostly just the butt of jokes, the local oddball. And even most of my friends and family look at all this askance; some, like my father (or so I imagine), understand a bit better than others, but I know none of them really get why I need to be walking in mountains for months at a time.

So really, besides my hiking friends, with whom I keep in marginal touch via Facebook, I'm sort of alone on this. I find I keep questioning myself and what I'm doing, fighting with myself over it. Which is ridiculous!

I look at it this way. I hear music constantly about following one's dreams, living life to the fullest, those high-rising anthems that you just have to sing along to. Country music is famous for them, but you hear them everywhere. Then, religions and spiritual systems of all sorts are full of passages and maxims about trusting God, not chasing wealth, living for what really counts (the lilies of the field, follow your bliss, all that jazz). Our own country was founded on the notions of liberty, persuit of happiness, and the like.

It's like the highest ideals of the world say that it's good to get out there and follow your bliss. I'm surrounded by the messages; is it any wonder I believe it? Yet I can feel a lot of static over all this. True, mainly from my own mind, which only shows how corrupted I've become, how effective the indoctrination of the advertizers and fear-mongers preaching security.

I prefer freedom. This may be a weird way to get after it, but it's my way, and I'm being true to it. Anyways, I'll be dead in 50 or so years, and I'm sure at that point I won't be wishing I'd spent more time doing things I didn't want to do in order to live the way I didn't want to live. The Appalachian Trail was an eye opener for me. Things clicked. I was truly happy. And now, I'm not really alive unless I'm "out there," which is, admittedly, troubling for my future, but at this point it's where I'm at. So, it'll be good to be done with the thinking about this, and get on with the living of it.

Which begins in less than 6 days.

California Dreamin'

Every day when I go to work, it is with this strange smile on my face and in my heart. Not because I love my job. I'm a temp worker at a large document storage warehouse. Row after row, shelf after shelf, floor after floor full of boxes of files, reciepts, and other such information that banks, businesses, lawyers and the like must save but have no space to store themselves. The sheer number of boxes boggles the mind.

One begins to see the use of computers, and to wonder why, this far into the computer age, we still have to have a whole forest dead and boxed in this building. Still, when the destruction date for a file box comes around, at least it's going to the recycling plant rather than the incinerator. That's something. Speaking of which, walking down the aisles, one thought strikes the onlooker: how terrible, yet at the same time fascinating in the way all catastrophes are, a fire would be on the loose in such a place. It would burn for days, or else hot enough to melt the metal shelving.

But the job isn't great. The days go by quickly enough, reboxing files from their old crushed boxes into new ones, or out among the aisles, finding needed files to ship back to the owners, or unloading pallets of boxes to the shelves... in the end, nothing short of boring. Actualy about as exciting as the legal documents we store.

Yet there between the metal grating of the floors and the thin fluorescent lights over my head, breathing the claustrophobic dust and slicing my hands open on the paper and cardboard I handle all day, back bent in labor and curses under my breath when the box I need is in the back, on the bottom, and wedged in tight; I find myself smiling. I smile because I am dreaming of California deserts, the rocky bones of dry mountain ranges, skies so blue as to almost stop the heart in wonder. I smile because there are pine forests in my future (as Aldo Leopold said, I love all trees, but I am in love with pines). I smile because there are high snowy passes, mountain springs gurgling even now, at this very moment, singing the song of the mountains as they dream their own dreams, of the sea far below. I smile because the Milky Way will soon be showing her lacy self to me again, because my days will be back to bare essentials (wake, eat, walk north, sleep), because though I'll be cold, or hot, or thirsty or hungry or tired, I'll be happy all the same. I smile because I will again be among people who understand.

Two and a half weeks....