The sun is finally shining again today, and the weather reports look promising!   I even checked the 10 day forecast for Lake Morena, and yippee,   ADZPCTKO should have great weather!   We have been to the kickoff twice before, and one time, it basically rained for almost the whole weekend.  On Sunday morning, when the thruhikers were leaving, they were all in raingear, and heading out into the clouds and mist and wet.   I don’t think that will be the case this year.

Before I comment on trail obstacles, I just wanted to say that when I started this blog, I had big ideas about putting pictures on it (yes, we do have pictures!) but I am still basically a technopeasant, and the process of getting pictures onto the blog is such a “big deal” to someone with my limited technosavvy that I just did not have time to do it.  Hopefully our words alone have been helpful.  Once we leave for the PCT, I will be sending home handwritten journals, and our daughter will post a “reader’s digest version” on our blog,  (along with some pictures, hooray!) then when we get back, I will post the FULL journal entries.

Trail obstacles–things that make hikers either tired or scared or both–are a fact of life on the PCT.   Sometimes it’s trying to hike when the trail is full of fallen trees that have not yet been “logged” out of the way,  or trying to hike when the trail is so overgrown that you are literally feeling with your feet for the trail tread because you can’t SEE it,  or hiking through tall, very wet grass/weeds that try their best to tangle up your feet and totally soak your shoes and socks (and fill them with stickers if there are a lot of weeds!).  With all these things,  you have to make the choice to maintain a cheerful attitude.  We have friends who work in emergency medical situations where things are absolutely horrendous, and they tell us that the only way to maintain your own sanity is to joke around and try to be as cheerful as possible.   It SOUNDS callous, but actually it protects you from becoming paralyzed and incapacitated by the grimness of the situation.   Same deal with obstacles on the trail.   We have met hikers who are a walking litany of complaints.  I want to ask them, “Then why are you doing this hike at all?”   Overcoming obstacles is part of the challenge of thruhiking.

But there are a couple of obstacles where it helps to know some coping skills beyond just choosing to be cheerful.   One is big hills.   On the PCT, it’s not unusual to have climbs of 2,000, 4,000 or even 5,000 feet.  Some are on gentle switchbacks.  Some are steeper.  Gentle switchbacks are no problema, but when it gets steeper, it’s harder.  I learned a technique that helps me which I use for steeper climbs (I got it from reading a trail running book)–shorten your stride, and speed it up at the same time.  In other words, instead of the usual longer, loose/relaxed stride I use most of the time when hiking,  I take much shorter steps, but speed up the pace,  while still maintaining the “relaxed” part.  It looks a bit funny, but it really does the job–I arrive at the top of steep hills a lot less huffed ‘n puffed than I did before.   I also change the way I use my trek poles.  Instead of having them alternate which pole is swinging to the front, I treat them like crosscountry ski poles and swing them together to the front, then use my arms and poles together to help “power” me up those steep climbs.

Roaring creek crossings are for me probably the only thing I really do NOT like when it comes to obstacles on the trail.  Part of the reason for this is that I am rather on the petite side, so water that might be just thigh deep on a tall person is up to my waist, AND I don’t have as much weight to help me stay anchored to the bottom of the river in spite of a strong current.   But again, knowing what to do is really helpful.     1) If you have a decent sense of balance, use a log to get across.  This is what Bill does.   He zips across on logs.  I have a decent sense of balance, but I also have had some bad experiences with SLIPPING and falling which make log crossings very scary for me, so if  I use a log, I either scoot across on my rear end, or ask Bill to walk right next to me so I can use him as a “railing”.    I did find in 2005 that by the end of the hike,  even I was getting fairly decent at crossing on logs. Practice DOES make perfect!   But I treat every log crossing with great care.   Hikers have had dreadful injuries from falling off logs crossing a creek.   2) If you must ford the creek,  FACE the current and sidestep your way across.   That way the water cannot “grab” your foot, spin you around and knock you down.  Lean into the current and plant your trek poles firmly.   Then move ONE thing at a time as you cross–either one pole or one foot.   Since Bill is taller and heavier than I am, I cross right behind him so that he takes the brunt of the current,  and I am somewhat protected.    3) Scout your crossing place.  Bill has done the JMT many times and he says that usually the worst places to cross are where the trail crosses the river!    Sometimes the rangers will mark better crossing places.   It is worth it to take the time to scout for the best place to cross.  Avoid deep places,  really fastmoving places, and for sure avoid places where the bottom of the river is smooth, slick rock.  You want to have a rough, gravelly bottom so you won’t slip.  4) Snowmelt river levels are lower early in the morning.   The difference can be a matter of a few inches or of a couple of feet!   In the High Sierras, where it’s basically winter snowpack melting, there was only a bit of difference, but in Oregon and Washington, where rivers are snowmelt coming off glaciers, the difference can be quite enormous.  5) Wear your shoes and socks for river fords.   You cannot see the bottom, and there often are rough sharp rocks.   The water is bitter cold.   Wear your shoes!   (I hope you are not wearing oldfashioned leather hiking boots!   Those you CANNOT wear in rivers!)   The “wear your shoes” idea is also great in places like the PCT going up the Mission Creek canyon in Southern California, where the weather is usually hot.   You have 10 zillion creek crossings to do, and if you have to find a log and teeter across it,  or worse, take off your shoes for every crossing, that will really slow you down.   Just walk right across, shoes and all!   It rinses your socks, cleans your shoes, and ahhhh, it feels good!

I am not blase about the dangers of creek and river crossings.   As I said, they are my least favorite part of thruhiking.   But once we’ve made it across, (whew!) I always tell God I am VERY grateful for His help in terms of upholding my courage and trust (because courage and trust are  choices I have to make, but once I choose them,  He is right there with the strength to act on them.  I agree with a friend of mine, Captain Barbara Schneider of the Salvation Army, who mentioned to me one day, “As I get older, I am FINALLY figuring it out how much God respects our choices and our free will.  He will never push His agenda on anybody. ” )  I thank Him for guiding my footsteps (literally!  Each sidestep across that river, you don’t know what you are stepping into!).   And actually, even with “easy little rockhop crossings”  I still thank God when I reach the other side,  because I do not want to take ANYTHING for granted, and I really am grateful.   Back when I was an angry, know-it-all  junior higher who said things like “Forget God!   He never does anything for me! ”  I was deliberately ignoring the TONS of stuff God did for me every day.   I don’t ignore them anymore!  

Anyway, at the end of the trail, you can look back at all those steep climbs and river crossings and say, “Wow!   That was some adventure!”    And if you are REALLY crazy, like “White Beard” and I,  you say, “Let’s do it again!”