Jonathan 8/12/14 Jonathan 8/12/14

What fuels a hiker

We eat a lot. Like a lot, a lot. Like 5000 calories per day, a lot. This means as much of as many different kinds of food as possible.

For dinner, though, we usually eat hiker slop. It was great in the beginning. Now I can hardly stand the stuff.

Hiker slop

1 package Idahoans (doesn't matter what flavor)

1 or 2 packages ramen (doesn't matter what flavor)

Big handful of cheese (generally shredded)

A few tablespoons of olive oil

Packet of tuna

Mix it all in a gallon ziplock bag, add three cups boiling and chow down.

Hooray for calories!

Cheers,

Jonathan

Captains of Us 8/6/14 Captains of Us 8/6/14

The Magic of Ashland

This is the kind of post that might start with something cliché like "Sometimes you find the adventure and sometimes the adventure finds you." Or maybe even "This is why you don't make plans."

The last day of California Jonathan gently convinced Dan to hike a 52 mile challenge into Ashland. While it might have been best to get up and going by 3:30am we got out of "camp" about two hours later than that. We were not exactly fresh - we literally slept on the trail, and we only slept there for about six hours after a night hike which included a 5000ft climb out of Seiad Valley.

Once we got going we put big miles behind us. We still weren't making outstanding time, but it could be done. After a quick lunch at the Oregon border we trudged back out into what had become a sweltering hot day. By 8:30 p.m. we had hit the 40 mile mark. Jonathan wandered up a ridge to see the sunset. It looked as glorious as ever with {blah blah flowery language about pretty colors}. As Dan followed we heard some voices and saw a fire. "Do you guys want a beer?" they said to us. Of course we do! They were amazing people. There were six of them, a little boy and a dog. They gave us beer and smoked salmon. Dat smoked salmon doe. On top of being generous, they were extraordinarily cool people to hang out with for an evening. At first we felt bad, since it was sort of a going away gathering for one of the guys, but they insisted that they had all secretly been wanting to magic stuff to PCT hikers but hadn't gotten a chance. Now they had one. At 10pm we were talking about hiking out and sleeping by the highway. A few hours past, and by midnight we knew we weren't hiking any farther. These gregarious people from Ashland truly gave us the best welcome into Oregon that we could have asked for.

Good company and a campfire are a great start to an evening. Especially when they're unexpected.

Things were off to a good start. We finished out the last 12 miles early the next morning to make it into Callahan's Lodge.

While crossing an outer road to I-5 a big white van pulled over to the side of the road. After honking and rolling down the window the driver yelled over to us "Beerman!" Dan turned, his eyes lit up and he shouted "I'm getting in the car with those strangers!" as he raced off to the van. Jonathan could do nothing but sit and stare confused as his hiking partner rushed off to a car of strange people. These "strangers" turned out to be a mentor of Dan's from college and Alpha Phi Omega (community service org) and his wife. The amount of chance involved for this meeting is astounding - we're talking alignment of the planets. They had planned on meeting Dan, but had to return to Ashland, Missouri. They left a note at the trailhead and were on the on-ramp to drive when our paths crossed. The couple (Paul and Charlotte) drove us into Ashland and bought us beers. After Paul and Dan spent some time catching up and marveling at the serendipity of our encounter the couple bid us farewell. They headed back toward Missouri while Dan and Jonathan ventured out into the metropolis of Ashland (pop. 20,000).

One delicious Indian buffet later, we knew that finding lodging needed to be at the top of our priority list. We were in a gear shop checking out a trail register when we came across names and numbers of some trail angels. Dan made a call, while Jonathan looked on with puzzled eyes. It seemed like the call went well, but all Dan said was that the guy was going to call us back. A few minutes later Dan received a call. It drags on a while. Somewhere along the way he looked up, smiled and gave a thumbs up. Now we had a place to stay for the night.

For the record, this formula is not a foreign experience for us. In college we moved after two years in a piece of shit house to an apartment. That apartment would have never happened without Dan's research and effort. Jonathan put forth enough effort to say thanks that Dan found us a place to live and to sign the lease.

It turns out that this trail angel is a former thru-hiker and angels for current hikers. He said we could stay at his place. Awesome! But wait, he's not even in town. His son may be around he said. The front door is unlocked, though, because of course it is. He asks that we keep things LNT (leave no trace) and clean up after ourselves, maybe grab some laundry detergent. Not a problem. We wouldn't dream of being anything but the most respectful guests - laundry, air conditioning, a safe place to leave the packs while we walk around town, a base camp. Seriously, when people show you the sort of kindness we have been shown you do everything you can to pay it forward and not take it for granted.

A good nights sleep, laundry and a shower later we felt like this adventure could not get any better.

A little friend that came to hang out on the porch as we sipped on morning coffee.

Not only are beds pretty cool every once in a while, but being in an actual home felt comforting, even if we didn't really know this home's owner. By day three of this story Jonathan found himself lounging on the couch and writing a blog much like this very one. All of a sudden, in walks this late 20 something man that is super fit. Jonathan looks up as the young man says "Um, hi. You must be a hiker from the trail." It's said more like a question than anything.

"And you must be the son of (trailname of dude whose house we're in)," Jonathan said, equally as unsure of his own statement.

"Yeah," says the young man. "I run a fitness apparel company and I'm just here to grab this bag. You guys have a great hike and enjoy Ashland."

As fast as he was in the house he was once again out of it. Not only did he seem a nice fellow, but he seemed totally unphased by walking into his father's house to find hikers and all their gear sprawled across the living room.

At this point it is unclear if the levels of awesome and strange will continue to escalate at consistent intervals, but it seems possible. As it stands they are at an all time high. We are loving Oregon.

Needless to say, all you trail angels out there, everything you do for hikers and to maintain the ethos of trail culture is inspiring. Your actions demonstrate a humanity and consideration I want to carry into my own life.

Keep adventuring,

Dan and Jonathan

Jonathan 8/5/14 Jonathan 8/5/14

Scenes of Northern California pt. 2

If a PCT hiker were to say that NorCal is boring, I don't think they would be entirely wrong. Conversely, if they were to say there is nothing cool about NorCal, I would say they are grossly mistaken. This section of the trail introduces far more forests than any heretofore, and they are more dense. On one hand, it means shade from the harsh summer sun. On the other hand it means fewer grand, scenic views. Despite this, the past 600 miles have afforded us some sweet views. Chief among them might be Mt. Shasta, which, even at the Oregon border, is still visible and has been since somewhere around mile 1300. It sits so tall off in the distance, dwarfing absolutey everything around it for hundreds of miles.

This has certainly been the most odd section so far. There was never really a routine, and things were always getting shaken up. Our crew was in constant flux and even Dan and I ended up separated for chunks of the section. This post, however, is about the visuals through the State of Jefferson. The personal stories are yet to come.

Mile 1371 - night hiking on Hat Creek Rim

Mile 1496 -  Mt. Shasta — Mile 1496 - Mt. Shasta

Cheers,

Jonathan

Captains of Us 7/31/14 Captains of Us 7/31/14

The Bet, concluded

How?! How is this possible? How do you make one roll of toilet paper last for a little over 900 miles? I don't think of myself as a gambling man, and thus I found the prospect of Dan accomplishing this feat preposterous, absolutely ludicrous. I had this in the bag. Then the miles past, but the size of the toilet paper roll barely seemed to shrink. Eventually, I realized that Oregon was fast approaching, and Dan hadn't run out of TP yet. It is now to my dismay that I must announce my concession in the bet over the Roll of Toilet Paper that Could. This is truly an impressive achievement. Many a hiker has listened wide-eyed as Soap Box explains the meaning of this roll. In the end, he only had three measles squares left. Now let's all continue walking through the woods as the number of miles left until Canada wain to under 1000.

-Jonathan

---

Perseverance. Perseverance, a steady hand and restraint are the skills required to make a roll of toilet paper last over 900 miles. Long days and many calories, stretches of no towns or pit stops, even a nasty bout of GI and still the roll turns. I'm not saying the PCT isn't impressive, but limiting toilet paper doesn't make the hiking easier. The bet has come to a close and I will gracefully accept my prize.

I'm not sure I'm even happy I won this bet... Or at least I won't be until I taste a few beers. Also, if anyone won any sizable side bets feel free to share the wealth.

-Dan

Captains of Us 7/29/14 Captains of Us 7/29/14

GUEST POST - Ms. Hoge

At a certain point, the thought of turning back becomes impossible, unsavory. As you amble along on feet that don’t exactly feel as if they can hold you, across shallow streams, through deep pine forests, and fields of unknown flowers, the choice that you make each moment becomes as simple as breathing: walk on.

A newcomer to the world of long-distance hiking, I didn’t truly understand the meaning of sore feet until I chose to join Dan (Soap Box) for a stretch of the PCT, from South Lake Tahoe to Donner Pass. Four days translated into two blackened toenails and several bulbous blisters to be lanced, duct-taped, and patiently ignored. The Pacific Crest Trail is not for the faint of heart…or of foot, for that matter. As I became aware of how well (or not) my body dealt with the mileage, I endured a sample size of challenges posed by the trail: ravenous mosquitos, high winds at altitude, trudging along in the rain with all of your food in what you hope is a waterproofed bag. Alongside the difficulties, there were innumerable moments of absolute joy. Each climb promised the sort of picturesque view that left me stumbling for words and the breath to say them aloud. The fact that I got to share these ridiculous wonderful moments with Dan, well, that itself was pretty amazing.

In the face of such overwhelming beauty and uncertainty that define what it means to live in the woods, you can’t help but find yourself severely humbled. Indeed, the mantras I used in rough patches alternated between “holy fucking shit” and “so cool”. As unthinkingly as these thoughts sprung from my lips, they might still be the best to describe the experience.

Overlook of thick forests around Lake Tahoe

Catching the light in a field of yellow flowers at sunset

Climbing down a snowy section, one false move could be dangerous!

Jonathan 7/28/14 Jonathan 7/28/14

I saw (all of) the sign(s)

It opened up my eyes I saw the sign.

90s Swedish pop bands aside, there are more signs on the PCT in Northern California than any other place I've seen so far. They're everywhere. One might even go so far as to say there are signs on signs on signs. This is by no means to say they are good signs, but simply that they exist. In fact, they're some of the most janky signs I've come across. Even their helpfulness is hit and miss. Nonetheless, the amusement they bring is abundant.

Really guys? C'mon, we can do better than this. Just build a freaking cairn.

OMG it's an actual PCT crest, albeit with PCT spray-paint behind it. Notice how the  crest isn't riddled with bullets. This one must be new. — OMG it's an actual PCT crest, albeit with PCT spray-paint behind it. Notice how the crest isn't riddled with bullets. This one must be new.

Cheers,

Jonathan

Jonathan 7/24/14 Jonathan 7/24/14

Scenes of Northern California pt. 1

NorCal is freaking hot. We again resumed the tactic of hiking out early, taking a really long lunch break during the heat of the day, and then hiking late into the evening. In the Sierra you couldn't pay me to get out of my sleeping bag before 7am due to cold. Now the sun comes up so incredibly early and almost immediately gets hot that I have to intentionally sleep in to stay in my bag past 7am.

One great thing about this section is the mix of moderate to mild terrain, strong legs and long days. Doing 25+ mile days isn't even a big deal anymore, and I love it.

Watching sunsets (and sunrises) in Northern California is a thing of wonder. I delight in seeing the sun's golden hour glow bathe the forested hills in the first and last light of the day.

The clouds are magical. They remind me of clouds in Texas. Beautiful puffy looking ones perfectly scattered across the sky.

Trees here are covered in this neon green mossy stuff that I find incredibly comical. In fact, foliage and plant life in general has increased exponentially.

Not pictured: bugs. All of the bugs. Flies, Mosquitos, spiders ants and tons of others I can't begin to identify.

Mile 1250 - Middle Fork Feather River — Mile 1250 - Middle Fork Feather River

Cheers,

Jonathan

Jonathan 7/22/14 Jonathan 7/22/14

Zero days as experienced by Quinoa

Our Belgian bro embodies what a zero day should look like.

Repair our gear

Relax our bodies

Rehab our ailing feet

Repack our bags with more food

Homemade disc golf courses could be a bust, but Tom's in Kennedy Meadows was a surprise and a delight.

Really though, Quinoa is the king at relaxing anywhere.

Cheers,

Jonathan

Jonathan 7/18/14 Jonathan 7/18/14

Visual update pt. 2

We are now three months and 1500 miles into the trail. Having past the midpoint, we've really hit our stride. This is no longer the adjustment period. This is living it. We are seasoned hiker trash and we are loving every minute of it. In my opinion we look like sporty, homeless people.

Note: Around mile 900 or so our merry band dissolved. Between the Euro Party wanting to watch their respective countries' World Cup matches and shin splints our schedules simply shifted. Assuming we catch back up to Quinoa and Half'n'Half, we will absolutely make a new visual update for them.

As it stands, we have been ebbing and flowing in and out of other groups. We decided to include our current crew as an example of these hiker trash at a moment in time.

Cheers,

Jonathan

Jonathan 7/16/14 Jonathan 7/16/14

We will never forget your kindness

Coppertone, the always skirt-clad former thru-hiker that randomly shows up with his RV and ice cream floats. This dude is guaranteed to put a smile on any thru-hiker he passes.

To the first couple that gave us a ride in San Diego without us ever even sticking out our thumbs, we thank you.

To Girl Scout, who put us up for a night and made sure we got to the southern terminus, we thank you.

To Ziggy and the Bear and their foot baths, we thank you.

To the Saufleys and their well oiled machine of a trail angel stop, we thank you.

To Coppertone and his ice cream floats, we thank you.

To the Anderson's and their most generous hospitality and cooking, we thank you.

To Dianne, who gave us an epic RV hitch and beer on top of that, we thank you.

To anyone who ever gave us a hitch anywhere, we thank you.

To anyone who ever left us trail magic, we thank you.

Were even the most pessimistic or cynical of people to hike the PCT, even they would doubt that all the good from the world is gone. There are so many amazing people out there. I've been running into them every day for the past few months as I walk this footpath. The PCT can amount to an astounding adventure no matter how you do it, but I will never stop being thankful that we experienced the kindness and selflessness from so many different sources along the trail.

To anyone that has touched our lives in a positive way as we walk our way to Canada, you are all trail angels in your own way, and we thank you.

Dan 7/14/14 Dan 7/14/14

Ascent of Mt. Whitney: The Movie

We came. We saw. We conquered. Sort of...

I've been keepin myself busy. Writing. Photos. But I'm trying something new, more to come (iPhone video editing may not be the easiest thing). Check it:

Stay frosty,

Dan

Jonathan 7/14/14 Jonathan 7/14/14

Scenes of the Sierra pt. 2

Alas, the Sierra have come to an end. I enjoyed the totality of them so very much. The second half of the Sierra was not quite as daunting as the first half, but it still posed it's challenges. More than anything though, I continued to gawk at the beauty of the landscape surrounding us. Less snow, more forest, more meadows and, unfortunately, more bugs. The advent of mosquitos on the trail sucked, but we tried to not let it ruin the beauty that surrounded us. The lush meadows and increase in greenery keeps you grinning all day. It's all quite humbling really.

Cheers,

Jonathan

Dan 7/13/14 Dan 7/13/14

The passes: Forester Pass

Hiking in the high Sierra requires climbing mountain passes - also they are part of the PCT. Passes offer new challenges - timing our climbs around snow conditions, river crossings and distance to the next pass or campsite from the summit.

Forester Pass, officially the highest point on the Pacific Crest Trail at 13,153 ft, was the first hurdle (although it's way bigger than a hurdle). The day before our band of thru-hikers had climbed and slept at the summit of Mt. Whitney so we approached Forester tired, but primed and ready to gain altitude again.

We camped four miles before Forester so we could gain the pass and descend in the morning, before the accumulated snow could be softened by the early summer sun. If we descended too late we risked postholing - when stepping on soft snow, you sink, a disaster as one leg becomes trapped up to the thigh in melting ice and snow and your body and pack crash off balance. It may go without saying, we have become well aquatinted with postholing.

We wake and pack quickly, each knowing the day brought new challenges. The approach to the pass was incredible, ice and snow fields like nothing the PCT had shown us yet. I passed waterfalls, frozen rivers, even caves, and I gazed upon the roughly hewn mountains wondering which our little foot path of a trail would force me to climb.

In the distance I saw Pedi at the base of a snow covered mountainside. I could make out Half and Half part of the way up the snow and talis. Quinoa was no where to be seen. I had finished the short approach, walking dazed and awestruck by the beauty of the Sierra. Now my focus was directed in front of me and upwards. Time to climb.

the ascent wasn't difficult, the snow crunched as I kicked steps for myself. Seconds later I had found steps kicked by other hikers and well compacted. The snow was plenty firm, progress was quick. Pedi and I were moving fast, we knew the Europeans were just ahead and we were excited to catch up. The snow turned to rocky switch backs, shear drop on one side and ice wall on the other, I couldn't imagine a better start to my morning. We gained the last switch back. The final hump to the top was covered in ice and snow, deep foot steps were kicked to make the last steps less risky.

From the top, our view of where we had come from was breathtaking. All the distance we had walked in the past week we could see from Forester - an odd feeling when those miles earned with sweat, some pain and many hours would soon be out of sight, left there for the next adventurer. With a turn I looked to where we would descend and drank in our future. Snow fields, icy lakes, deep valleys, and mountains that cut into the skyline like wild claws - the Sierras are a beast and Forester was like a gateway into the belly.

We snapped some pics and laughed, as a group we were excited and proud and happy to be facing new landscapes. Then we got ready to descend.

Going was quick on the hard snow fields. After cutting a few switchbacks we made it to our first glisade. Was it necessary? No. But it was a blast. As an FYI, glisading just means sledding without a sled using something as a break - we improvised with our trek poles.

The descent took longer than we thought it would and the snow started to get soft. After a short section of post holing we made it to a clear area. We were beat, soaked and ready for lunch.

After the snowy section we hiked into what seemed like the Forbidden Forest from Harry Potter. Giant trees, rushing river, shear granite canyon walls and waterfalls all over the place. We were hiking for Kearsarge Pass so we could resupply in Bishop, CA (not a huge snow covered pass, but still a climb). Getting to town for a meal after the snow was a perfect end to our first pass in the Sierra.

Cheers,

Dan

Pedi, Quinoa and Half and Half descend the snow field.

Jonathan 7/7/14 Jonathan 7/7/14

What I really miss

People have not infrequently asked me what I miss about the "real world." When you exclude people from that answer, it gets hard. I obviously miss friends and family, but things not so much. We adapt to our surroundings incredibly well, and I rarely found myself yearning for some material possession. Even food wasn't a big deal. Sure, it would be nice to have a fancy meal, but we cook hot meals and manage to get along just fine with the food we have.

Then, in one resounding moment of resolution, I had my answer. We had heard tale of a home-cooked meal at the Muir Trail Ranch, a mere 2 miles off trail, but were crushed when we arrived to find a locked gate and a closed sign. By that point we all felt defeated and needed food, regardless of its quality. While sitting around outside the gate eating ramen an adorable dog came through the fence to hang out. That dog lifted my spirits as much or more than any burger could. It nuzzled us and wandered around doing dog stuff. Its curious, friendly nature makes me instantly smile. Animal companionship is such a beautiful thing.

I miss my dogs.

Cheers,

Jonathan

Jonathan 6/30/14 Jonathan 6/30/14

Yosemite the majestic

Yosemite. Oh Yosemite. You have shown me things I could previously hardly have comprehended to be real.

Walking into Yosemite was nice. An easy meadow lead to a little store with a burger. A juicy, savory burger can brighten any hiker's day. Our crew had decided to finish out the last leg of the John Muir Trail, which consisted of an extra 22 miles down to Yosemite Valley, a place famous for its beauty. On our way down we decided to stop and take another detour to climb Half Dome.

Few experiences in my life have compared to the adventure that was climbing Half Dome. For starters, it's hard enough to be a good workout but short enough that, as a thru-hiker, it wasn't exactly exhausting.

About 200 yards before the peak you encounter these cables at waist height going up the rest of the peak. You have to pull yourself up what I would guess was a 70 degree incline the rest of the way. Not recommended for those with a fear of heights, but I had a blast.

As we reached the top, my jaw dropped. The splendor we witnessed on that giant granite peak was mind blowing. The high Sierra had been gargantuan and and awesome. Yosemite, however, was majestic. Golden hour is like this whole new thing from up there. To top it off, there were a couple a climbers on the peak's face a mere 50 ft from the top. To say that I was impressed would be an understatement.

As we descended Half Dome and then further into Yosemite Valley the next morning the awe had not worn off. I hope it never does.

Lembert Dome, the first of the granite rock formations viewable upon entering Yosemite.

Ascending Half Dome and realizing how beautiful our surroundings are.

Our first view of the cables leading to the top if Half Dome. This moment instilled the most fear in me.

Our last glimpse of Half Dome descending into the valley.

Vernal Falls (I think) a mere mile or two before the valley.

Beautiful streams on the way out of Yosemite.

Cheers,

Jonathan

Jonathan 6/25/14 Jonathan 6/25/14

Photos of us hiking

We hike a lot. All day, every day. 20 miles per day. It's both exhilarating and awfully monotonous.

The sun sets over the Mojave Desert as we prepare for a night hike.

Beautiful alpine forests are my favorite!

Epic stream crossings in the Sierra. Dan did this one barefoot.

Our Belgian got all thugged out for Mt. Whitney.

Vasquez Rocks. Half'n'Half was all smiles walking through this place.

I love when logs are laid out over stream crossings.

And then there was this staircase on the PCT. The John Muir Trail section gets fancy.

The approach to Forrester Pass. Dan (Soap Box) makes it look epic. It kinda was.

Cheers,

Jonathan

Jonathan 6/22/14 Jonathan 6/22/14

Looking back: My crew rolls deep

Midway, Quinoa, Barbie, Half'n'Half, Soap Box, Baggins and Wash Pot.

We are part of the herd. Well, maybe the pre-herd. We are still in a bubble of hikers. Because of the distances between water and the placement of campsites one often finds oneself camping with a larger group. Luckily all the people that flow in and out of our bubble are great people. On this particular afternoon we rolled nine deep into a pretty sweet campsite. Nobody messes with nine hikers.

j/k, people are actually repelled by our stench.

The exception was a gracious couple that pulled off the highway and unleashed a maelstrom of happiness and calories in the form of trail magic. Never before had I experienced multi-course trail magic. First came the sodas, then the clementines, then the candy bars and finally the fruit pies. Our gratitude towards people with such kind hearts cannot be understated. Seeing that couple pull off the road put smiles on all our faces. No amount of 'thank you's' can express how much that magic means to us.

Jonathan 6/19/14 Jonathan 6/19/14

Life in the backcountry

As much as I love sharing scenic views from the trail, most of life for a PCT hiker is walking, camping and spending time with hiker friends. These are the simple moments.

Riding in the back of a pickup on the way back to the trail.  Checking more activities off the American bucket list. — Riding in the back of a pickup on the way back to the trail. Checking more activities off the American bucket list.

Finding ourselves exhausted by the mountains.

Sleeping on top of Muir Pass in the Muir Hut.

Cheers,

Jonathan (Pedi)

Jonathan 6/16/14 Jonathan 6/16/14

The Bet

To some of you who live in civilization, this may seem a bit uncouth. To us hikers, there really isn't such a thing.

Back in Bishop Quinoa bought a pack of toilet paper and generously gave a roll each to Dan and I. Dan turns to me and says, "Hey, I've got an idea. I bet you I can make this roll last me until Oregon."

Ha. HA! Oregon? We got back on the trail right before mile 800. California ends just before mile 1700. That's 900 miles on a single roll of toilet paper. Lunacy I tell you.

"The loser has to buy a case of beer for the group." Dan adds.

"You're on." I replied without hesitation.

Who doesn't love free beer?

The Rules

He is allowed to use other toilet paper when we are in towns/taking a zero.

He is not allowed to borrow from other hikers on trail.

He is allowed to use alternative methods such as pine cones and moss to wipe. (Let's be real, if he manages to extend that TP through the use of "natural alternatives," he's earned it)

Ohhhhhh, the things we do to entertain ourselves on trail.

Cheers,

Jonathan

Jonathan 6/13/14 Jonathan 6/13/14

Scenes of the Sierra Nevada

I occasionally think of myself as a competent photographer. While landscapes and haven't always been my thing, it's hard to walk through these scenes and not try to capture or document them. I thought it had been going OK, but when we got to the high Sierra, something happened. I found myself wholly incapable of capturing the world around me in any decent sense. This is not to say that I'm rehearsing a sense of self-deprecation on a blog, but rather to say that the scenery here is so amazingly grand I'm at a loss. The photos that had previously looked as if they accurately and somewhat eloquently represented the views I encountered now appeared dull when compared to what lie before me.

The world that exists here is like none I've ever experienced. Not even close. In a word, it is rewarding. The nights are bitter cold and the sun beats down in the day. The altitude makes your lungs burn and your heart pound. But everywhere you look there are towering mountains, endless streams, waterfalls, lakes, valleys and forests. Each element is so immersive, so extraordinary. The Sierra really makes you work for it, but holy crap is the payoff sweet.

I hope this gives you an inkling of the feeling it gives me to be in its presence.

Mile 867. Northern view from Selden Pass

Cheers,

Jonathan