Ashland to Crater Lake

Leaving Ashland, aka paradise, was tough. We wanted to continue eating lemon mint sherbet, drinking kombucha on tap, and reading the hard copy NYT we'd purchased at the co-op. Fortunately, we called a taxi company earlier in the day and pre-arranged a ride to the trail at 5.... Otherwise, we never would have left, especially when we got a text from Bivvy suggesting just one more drink at the brewery. Commitment devices: they work. Sadly, we got a text from Blue Sky and Bright Eyes while we were in the taxi, saying they'd just arrived in Ashland. We hiked together in the desert and they came to our wedding. They also got engaged on the trail (in the Mojave!) and have been a day or two behind us for the last few weeks. We have so much to celebrate with them, but sadly we were already trail-bound. We're going to do our first double-zero of the trail in Bend, OR and hope they catch up to us there!



Final emails and fancy drinks before leaving town!

With all the delicious local food and craft beers sloshing around in our bellies, we only made it 6 hard-fought miles that night. We camped in our first of two parking lots for this section (just pull outs on a dirt road with no cars - this isn't like a Costco parking lot), ate some delicious Ashland snacks, and passed out. When our alarm went off at 6 the next morning, we saw something we haven't seen since we left SF: fog. Somehow, this fog dampened every "get up and go" impulse we have and we stayed in bed for another 2 hours. We didn't leave camp until almost 9 am, our latest time on the whole trail. It felt awesome.


Foggy morning


Baked goods from Ashland! Makes waking up so much better.


Yep, almost 9 am departure


Beautiful sun through the lingering fog

We've long heard that Oregon is where thru hikers can really do "Big Miles." Every hiker defines Big Miles differently. For some, Big Miles means 25 miles a day. For our crazy friend Thirteen, Big Miles means once doing a 45-mile day. For us, Big Miles is anything north of 30. Which, when you think about it, is really quite impressive: we're going to walk a marathon + five additional miles, with a backpack, elevation change, and difficult terrain, every day. It's the "every day" part that kills me sometimes. I do Big Miles for a day, and then I think I deserve a vacation. Nope...time to wake up and do it again! Oregon is known for Big Miles because hikers are in epic shape at this point and the trail is really soft and springy. It's not the deep sand of the desert nor the rocky, painful trail of the Sierra. It's just soft dirt and pine needles. You don't have to pay great attention to where each foot goes and therefore you can fly. Big Miles!



Gourmet first course of lunch! Day 1 out of town always has the best food.

But when we left camp at 9, we figured there was no way it would be a Big Miles day. I mean, usually we've already got 7-8 miles under our belts at that hour. We were hoping for 24-25 miles. But then we walked and chatted and podcasted and took a break for lunch and did all our normal things and suddenly it was 8:30 pm, getting dark, and we'd done 30 miles. Oregon! Home to Big Miles for a reason!

As we cooked dinner in our second consecutive dirt road parking lot, we started thinking. If we'd done a 30-mile day without much effort, could we pull off a 40 the next day? There was no pressing need - it wasn't like we were running out of food or wanted to catch someone. We just were excited by the challenge of it. We set the alarm for 5.

Everything went great the next morning. We got out of camp before 6, just as the sky was beginning to lighten up. We saw the sunrise from the top of our first climb of the day. We were on track to do 14 miles by 10 am. Everything was going smooth as can be.



Waking up in the dark!


Mucho early departure


#goals


Sunrise at the top of the ridge


Eating breakfast on the go

Then, somewhere around the 8 mile mark, we saw this:



Uh oh. Trail magic from our favorite 2014 friends - Jolly Llama, 1-Track, and Gourmet. There's no way we could miss this. We agreed we'd pop over and give everyone a hug, but stay no more than 20 minutes. We have a 40 to do after all!

As soon as we got there, we knew our dreams of a 40 were shattered. They had an epic set-up: a shade tent, camp chairs, silly costumes, and something like 8 coolers filled with gatorades, sodas, beers, and snacks. Most importantly, they'd set up "Le Bistro," a backcountry fine dining establishment. Gourmet got his name because he is a chef in Hawaii when he's not thru hiking. And not just like a cook at a Panera. He prefers fine dining restaurants and was the head chef at his last restaurant before he quit to come hang out on the trail again. So we had Gourmet, wearing a silly apron, bow tie, and top hat, manning the camp stove inside Le Bistro. This was going to be GOOD.










They were making food for the other thru hikers who wandered through, but as soon as we rolled in, they got excited. Jolly Llama, the head server at Le Bistro, seated us at a table for two and, no joke, lit a candle. He said they'd planned something special for us since they wanted to celebrate our wedding. I think I almost started to cry.

First, he popped a bottle of champagne that they'd brought just for us. Yes, Justin and I split a bottle of champagne at like 8 am. Jolly Llama helped a bit.



Head server at Le Bistro: Jolly Llama


Why yes, I'd love some champagne. As Jolly noted, the solo cup really opens up the flavors.


Le Bistro and the head chef


Gourmet working it.

Then, the five course meal started coming. While Le Bistro has a beautiful menu of options that thrilled and delighted every thru hiker (BLT! French toast breakfast sandwich! Salad with poached egg!), they'd planned a special "off-menu" meal for us. Gourmet is a vegan and he remembered I'm vegetarian, so he even had veggie and meat versions of each course for Justin and me. It was amazing to see a pro at work. First, rainbow carrots and dipping sauce. Then, caprese salad. Next, entree salads with tempeh bacon and vegan cheese for me, real bacon and cheese for Justin. For our main course, sweet potato hash (my favorite!!) with sriracha and delicious veggie patties for me, and a steak for Justin. And finally, cheesecake and an ice cream sundae. Holy Toledo, it was delicious.

The five courses:














The whole morning was beautiful and almost overwhelming for me. I couldn't believe we were here at mile 1760, having a five-course meal with some amazing friends. One of the reasons we were most excited to return to the trail after 2014 was because we love the sense of community that this crazy hike forms. While we rarely actually walk and talk with anyone, the shared experience of doing something so unique and challenging instantly bonds you to people. And then over afternoon siestas at water sources, dinners in camp, and beers in town, true friends start to emerge. Even more importantly, Justin and I actually forged our own relationship on this trail - we'd barely started dating when we began the hike in 2014 (indeed, we quietly celebrated our two-month anniversary on our first night in the trail, when we camped next to Gourmet and his girlfriend Lady Mac!). And now, here we are, two years and thousands of miles later - celebrating our wedding with some of these same friends. In 2014, we liked to say "The PCT giveth and the PCT taketh away" - it was a way to not ride the lows of windy nights, scorching temperatures, or other challenges too hard, because we knew there'd be an epic sunset or instance of trail magic around the next corner. But in 2016, we know better. The PCT just giveth. Even all the challenges and obstacles are part of the PCT's enormous gift to us and to the life that we're building together.



Gourmet, Jolly Llama, and One Track

So we left Le Bistro riding high (hiking high?). We weren't going to hit 40 miles, but that was beyond the point. We had full bellies and happy hearts. Not even the lava fields (ow, my feet!) or the two bee stings Justin got could slow us down. We ended up doing 33 miles that day - while not 40, it was a new PR for us.



Lava fields


Hell yes I packed out a huge bag of rosemary truffle popcorn


Sweet burn area


More lava

Our new PR didn't last long. The next day, we realized if we hiked 35 miles, we could make it to Crater Lake National Park. The Park has a store and restaurant that close at 9, so we figured we had a fighting chance of picking up our resupply box (thanks, ECP and Matan for sending!!) and getting a soda before bed. Off we went!! Unfortunately, we were not prepared for what awaited us. This section of trail hadn't been maintained in a while and clearly some nasty wind storms had whipped through. There were constant blow-downs - knocked down trees that block the trail. Blow-downs are tricky. Sometimes they're low enough you can step over them. Sometimes they're high enough you can duck under them (though you inevitably snag your pack). Sometimes they're so wide/fat that you can't straddle over them. Sometimes they're so brushy that you get super scratched up. Sometimes the only way past them is to take a bushwhacked trail all the way around. When we say there were a lot of blow-downs, we're not exaggerating. We crossed 102 in the first hour (1.7 a minute!) and 407 before the day was done (props to Justin for counting. I think this was his main form of entertainment yesterday). Crossing endless blow-downs obviously slowed us down.



And then in the afternoon, we made a critical mistake. The last water before the park is twenty miles out. We filled up enough water to get us to the park, but no extra. So later in the afternoon, when we realized that the blow-downs had slowed us down so much that making it to the park before dark would be impossible, we didn't have enough water to set up camp and then hike again the next morning. The death march was on. Ultimately, we hiked with headlamps for a mile or two, got to the road into Crater Lake well after dark, had a somewhat harrowing road walk in which we jumped into a ditch every time a car came by, and then finally got to the designated PCT campsite sometime around 10:30. Justin shoved a cliff bar and a chocolate bar in his mouth, I went directly to bed. But then we woke up and were in Crater Lake! Hell yeah! We're currently enjoying a delicious breakfast and then are going to sort through our resupply. 80 miles to Shelter Cove, a resort where our next box is waiting, 160 miles to Bend, the trail town we're arguably most excited for and then Washington and then Canada and then....!!!!




Made it to mile 1800!


I destroy socks so fast.


Fourth national park of the trip!


This is after purell


Justin ahead of me, night-hiking on the road. All part of the PCT gift.



Breakfast at the park!!! I look mad, but I'm really just overjoyed at the hash brown situation.

Hello Oregon! Seiad Valley to Ashland

Hello hello! Man, the last two resupply stops couldn't have been any more different. Seiad Valley was a tiny, one-building town (Post Office, Store, Diner all interconnected). Now we're in Ashland, OR - which I can only describe as a more free-spirited Princeton, NJ. We are in heaven.









Hipster Mexican cocktails = hell yes

But first, more about Seiad Valley. While we were there, we paid the "day use" fee at the neighboring RV park - $20 got us two showers, one load of laundry, and the opportunity to sit in a dusty room and wait out the heat. #worthit. Side note: not #worthit? The toothpaste we found in a hiker box and used for a night before discovering it had expired in March of 2001. Back when I was in high school.









I patched the holes in my short pockets all by myself. I hope you're proud, mom!








The size of one pancake from the Seiad Valley pancake challenge. No wonder it's been 8 years since a hiker won.

Annnyway, we kept waiting for it to cool down. It never did. Finally, close to 6 pm, we finally acknowledged that we had to get moving regardless of the fact that it was still north of 95 degrees. We then began one of the most infamous climbs of the trail - the 4,500' trudge out of hot Seiad Valley and back up to the (mercifully cooler) ridge.








Yup, that looks horrible.

We'd planned to camp maybe 4-5 miles in, where we'd read there was a good site. When we got there, the sun was just setting and our legs felt great. Why not keep going a little bit, we thought? That was a mistake. Turns out there weren't any more campsites for miles. The sun fully set and the moon was just a tiny sliver. Ultimately, we had to get out headlamps out to light up the trail, and even then it was sketchy, as we were on a narrow ridge with a steep drop-off. When we finally came to a semi-flat spot, we decided to commit to camping (especially as it was well past "hiker midnight," aka 9 pm). This is when things got really honeymoon-y. The two flattest spots (as in, only a minor incline, not a steep drop) were both far too narrow for our tent. We ended up splitting up, unrolling our sleeping pads in two spots about 50 feet apart, and sleeping separately for the first time in months. Also we ate donuts for dinner and slept in our clothes. And ants kept finding their way into our sleeping bags. The next day at lunch, I had to take a two hour nap just to recover. This night now holds the coveted award for "worst night of sleep on the trail." Only time will tell if someplace in the PNW can take the title.









Pretty view of the valley as we climbed








Last sunset in California!








This is what camp looked like when we arrived. Great view, huh?

We spent a chunk of the next day leapfrogging with our friends from 2014, who got on trail coincidentally right where we were. Some wonderful dejavu moments to see Gourmet and One-Track napping under a tree as we strolled by.

In the early afternoon, we saw something we've seen only twice before during this journey....storm clouds. We kept an eye on them and kept hiking. Pretty soon, we heard thunder rumbling in the distance. At this point, we only had ~10 miles left in California, and we were both under the strange and wholly untrue impression that if we could just make it to the Oregon border, we'd avoid the storm. So we ran/hiked to the border, stopping only once to refill water and shove sour skittles in our mouths. The California/Oregon border, while of massive importance to thru hikers, is not much of a landmark. Indeed, it's really just a sign nailed to a tree and a trail register where everyone says some variant on "California, I love you, but damn it feels good to be in Oregon." The storm clearly would not have respected this boundary had it meant business. But lucky for us, it stayed hovering over the next ridge and we stayed dry.



















Storm running!









And then, well, shoot....! We made it to Oregon! Woweee! Our first state line crossed! On the AT, apparently hikers cross their first state line in something like 1-2 weeks. Not so on the PCT. They make you earn it. You gotta go through 1,689 miles of desert, mountain passes, heat, creek fords, mosquitos, and snow before you get the glory of moving into a new state. And I do mean glory. We feel really great about it. Our bodies feel great. We're having fun. It's been hard but we wake up everything morning excited to keep moving north. It's also incredibly bittersweet. This journey is clearly once-in-a-lifetime, and we don't want it to end! We are so grateful to McKinsey for allowing us this time, to our families for ever-supporting this journey (I can't tell you how many random packages and duffel bags are currently stored at Matthew's small cottage), and to our friends for cheering us on. We can't wait to get to Canada, but we also want to savor every damn moment. In a few months, we'll be back on airplanes and staring at laptops. For now, waking up in a tent as the sun rises, spending the day talking, thinking, and listening (while simultaneously cranking out 30 miles), and falling asleep under the stars is insanely special. Which is all to say, we were both thrilled and sad to make it to Oregon.












































We had a lot of feelings about finding ourselves in Oregon, but we handled them by doing what we do best: walking north. We slept about a half mile from the border that night, and the next morning started to crank out the 27 miles to Callahan's - a resort in the woods where you can then hitch into Ashland. We blasted through the miles (Justin listening to Top 40, Me listening to the NPR Politics Podcast), stopping only because we ran into Copper Tone and his tricked out root beer float RV. We said we wanted to keep pushing into Ashland, but the allure of a root beer float was far, far too great. I actually said "I'm not strong enough to walk by and not have one." Fortunately, Justin was on the same page. We inhaled the floats and kept going.










Can't possibly pass this up.

We are super lucky in that Kris, the sister of my sister-in-law Heather, lives in Ashland and agreed to be our personal trail angel for the weekend. She picked us up at Callahan's, set us up in her adult daughter Taylor's bedroom (Taylor is off on an epic journey of her own, driving the Pan American Highway down to Patagonia), showed us the best spots in town for a spicy margarita, and was super polite as we dragged our extremely stinky backpacking stuff into her lovely home. It has been so nice to see family as we transition into this next phase of the trail. Thank you, Kris!

And, as mentioned, Ashland has been incredible. We've had craft beers, brussel sprouts, massages (!!!), and more craft beers. I walked a labyrinth outside the Episcopal church. Justin bought an energy bar made from cricket flour at the co-op. It's been everything we've needed to rejuvenate and we don't want to leave. But in the words of our homeboy John Muir, "the mountains are calling and [we] must go!"










Beers with 2014 friends








#wemissyoutoetouch








Oregon = cool already









Ashland scene








Natural foods co-op scene








Less than one thousand to go!

Last stop in California: Shasta to Seiad Valley

We are writing from mile 1,653. We have 36 miles left in California, and less than a thousand miles left until the end of the trail. California has been incredible, diverse, hospitable and challenging. Highlights include: snowy mountain passes, otherworldly desert landscapes with Joshua Trees and rattlesnakes, the lakes of Desolation Wilderness, the ridge lines we walked on near Sonora Pass,
Marble Mountain Wilderness and so many others, and the hospitable towns and people along the way. We have never hiked any of the PCT in Oregon and we are psyched! It's a relatively small state in comparison to California, only 400 some odd miles, but it should be a great one between a relatively flat grade, beautiful vistas and fantastic trail towns.

The PCT must have heard about our last blog entry because the scenery got epic in the last 150 miles since Shasta. We hiked through four wilderness areas (Castle Crags, Shasta-Trinity Alps, Russian, and Marble Mountain) in slightly cooler heat (90s not 100s).

Castle Crags is close to Mount Shasta and despite being 8,000 or so feet lower than the big mountain, it towered over us at the beginning of our 5,000 foot climb up from I-5. In what's becoming a regular ritual, we left town late and hiked ten miles starting in the late afternoon. It was still 100 degrees at 4:30pm. You can tell how excited we were to hike out.






Luckily the next day the temperature cooled down, the wind picked up and we were rocking and rolling. The wind wasn't loud enough to mask the rattle of a baby rattlesnake telling us to get out of the way. We did. Quickly.

Castle Crags





Someone decided that kilometers was the way to go... Hikers disagreed





Looking back towards the crags from up high





Weird plant stuff





Ridges for days





Ridge hiking






The Shasta-Trinity Alps are an incredible wilderness area that I was lucky enough to explore during a high school summer with Ben Jacobs. As you can see I was thrilled to be back more than a decade later.






In case you are curious about the headband, it's a Buff and one of the more handy pieces of clothing we carry. Sometimes we use it to keep the sweat out of our eyes, sometimes to soak in streams to keep us cool, sometimes to use as a hat.

We ran into Coppertone again towards the end of a day and enjoyed a root beer float right before sunset. It was ideal. Until we got a little cell service and realized our Spot messages weren't going through. Battery problem we hope.

Mount Shasta

















The Alps





Lakes and alps





Alps again





Tree is hungry






Russian Wilderness

We hit some great trail magic right before we hiked into the Russian Wilderness from a triple crowner (hiked the PCT, AT and CDT) named Steady and her husband Steve. They drove out from Oklahoma to provide trail magic to hikers in this hot and dry section of Northern California. When we hit the small paved road in the middle of the mountains we were not expecting to see anyone at all, which is pretty common out here. Instead: blankets, cold sodas and Gatorade, cold candy and trash. Have I mentioned that taking our trash is a huge gift? Especially when you forgot to throw out your old fuel canister and left town with three bags of chips.

Best of all, we ran into Garfield a friend from day one on the trail. The last time we'd seen him was in Mammoth, nearly 700 miles ago. The next night we camped at a lake where we also saw Checkmate and Kevin, who had first introduced us to the State of Jefferson where we now reside temporarily.

Marble Mountain has a beautiful new sign






Marble Mountain was the surprising winner of the section: we were up high walking on gorgeous ridge nearly the whole time.
















Jenny hit her big milestone



However blow downs were frustratingly common


What goes up must come down eventually, and down we went through a burn area along Grider Creek through overgrown trail and poison oak.




On the way down into Seiad Valley we ran into friends from our 2014 hike who were doing a section that they didn't complete then. As we walked by, Jolly Llama surprised us from his sleeping bag with "Lance-a-lot? Cache-Money?" -- our trail names from 2014. Jolly is just that, Jolly, and we were thrilled to see him. We were so thrilled that Jenny terrified a bear a hundred feet away which bounded down the mountain away from us. Jenny's first wilderness bear sighting on the trail. Sadly Jolly was getting off trail because of knee pain but we hope to meet up in Ashland.

We met up with a few other friends from 2014 once we got to the campground thruhikers camped in before a 6 mile road walk to Seiad Valley. One Track and Gourmet were hanging out with a few other hikers when we stumbled in a little after 8pm. It looks like we should get the chance to hang out a bit over the next few days through Ashland. We finally learned the answer to a question we had been pondering since 2014: they had actually gotten the beer we had left for them at White Pass.


















Here in the real State of Jefferson there's a big difference from the Shastafarians: it's a tiny town with lots of trucks and a fairly vocal dislike of the federal government given the omnipresent "no monument" signs around town.

The cafe in town is an institution and the home of the famous pancake challenge: if you eat 5 pancakes you get them free. The catch: they each weigh one pound. Even for thruhikers that's a tall enough order that only one hiker has won in the last eight years. We've got to give it up to them, we had some excellent milkshakes, eggs and waffles. The place was completely overrun with hikers.

Miraculously, despite being 4-5 days ahead of schedule and another address error, most of our packages made it in time. Yes, Jenny ate a ton of mandarin oranges (thanks Sharon!). Our schedule should be updated in our Google doc by Friday (thanks Jamie!).

Its 4:30pm here in Seiad Valley and its getting hotter!! It's currently 101 outside, and we have a 4,500 foot climb out of here.

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Location:Seiad Valley