Prologue

OK, tomorrow is my last day of work before my highly esteemed girlfriend and I hike the PCT. That is,  we start on Tuesday. It's been a long time coming, involving more planning, scheduling and thought than I put into most activities, but in the end I have no doubt that it will all be worth it. It is getting to the point where all I do is think about hiking. The only moments of respite that I have, oddly enough, are at work when I can bury the omnipresent, looming adventure with thoughts of other wild places. Oh yeah, I forgot to mention - I am a field biologist.

Historical context

I hadn't heard of the Pacific Crest Trail before college. I'd been backpacking before in Yosemite, in Point Reyes, in Big Sur, all of which were awesome, but all were forays of 4-5 days, at most. Long-distance hiking wasn't even something that was in my head at that point. What did occupy my mind, as a sophomore in college, was trying to figure out how to spend the rest of my life doing what I loved outdoors. At that time I hadn't nailed down what it actually WAS that I loved doing outdoors, but I was motivated and highly suggestible. I was offered an internship in the Trinity Alps through a PhD student working on a basin-level ecosystem study in the Trinity Alps, which explored the linkage between terrestrial and aquatic components of relatively isolated systems. I hadn't much formal training at the time, but the promise of backpacking for the entire summer while surveying for birds, frogs, bats, snakes and insects was too exciting to turn down. Hell, I was excited that I had a stipend. 

Fast forward six months. We (myself and my two field crew mates) had been working in the Trinities since late June and were en route to another one of the field sites, packs laden to the tune of 60 lbs. a person with food, water, containers, nets, waders, float tubes, ethanol.... the works. We see several gaunt, wooly figures coming towards us at a good clip, but without the motivation of a rabid redneck or enraged/hungry bear. Upon closer inspection they appeared to have packs only slightly larger than day packs, but the sinew in their legs (not to mention the decidedly dedicated beards) conveyed that they had been moving for far, far longer than a couple days. It was later that I learned of the Pacific Crest Trail and its thru hikers after talking with a section hiker who was working on it three weeks at a time. I was immediately taken with the allure of the trail, and intrigued as to why anyone wouldn't just hike it all at once. Remember, I was a college sophomore.

Fast forward several years. I finished my undergraduate work in the ecological field, spent time working on academic research, spent time traveling, and then began working in biological consulting. I enjoyed the field nature of the work, but felt the pull of academia and pursued a graduate position in the field. I accepted a position at Oregon State University and studied the ecology of invasive species and finished with a Masters. After completion, I was left with the choice of continuing on for a PhD, but felt the inextricable pull of the PCT and declined for the moment in lieu of pursuing my dream of adventure. 

(More) Recent context

Fast forward to August, 2012. After logistical and personal setbacks, my dreams of the PCT had been delayed some years. My highly esteemed girlfriend of many years was disenchanted with her current position and was in need of a new career and some adventure. We both decided that the prospect of actually thru-hiking was close at hand. Meanwhile, we began to retool our gear and begin broad-scale planning in the (hopeful, in my mind) event of a PCT thru-hike in 2013. In our minds, there would be no better opportunity for adventure. 

February 1, 2013: I pulled the trigger with my employer. I informed them of my intent to hike the Pacific Crest Trail from April through September, and requested a leave of absence. Training, planning and gear-hoarding went into full gear. My brother and his girlfriend moved into our apartment, as they would be subleasing while we hiked. Our apartment soon became far less spacious than it once had, as piles of gear and food started increasing their footprints in the corners of our apartment. I foolishly announced a final day of April 12 - a mere five days before the estimated start of the trail. As I continued working during the day, my evenings were spent scouring blogs, message boards and websites for the ideal gear. Erin (aforementioned highly esteemed girlfriend) began planning the day-to-day logistics on mileage, resupplies, and a host of other items that will prove to be invaluable in the long run (which I could not accomplish myself, even if I weren't working - my brain just doesn't work like that). A break in the 60- to 70-hour weeks I was working allowed us the flexibility to increase the frequency and distance of our training hikes, and for me to become acclimated to the use of hiking poles. As a younger man, I poo-pooed the use of hiking poles as a crutch for the elderly. After some actual research, though, their utility became evident and I picked up a pair of Black Diamond Alpine Carbon Cork 4's. I chose the 4-season model mostly because I am notoriously hard on gear, and am well-versed in the ways (why and how) that carbon fiber and aluminum (the two most popular materials for hiking poles) fail. The idea of a misplanted, featherweight carbon pole shattering in a technical descent and finding its way into my thigh sounded likely, and unappealing, so the decision still sits well with me. After becoming accustomed to the poles, I accepted their value. 

March 7, 2013. Powder day in Tahoe! The only one of the year, and the only one since the dump before New Years! What a great opportunity to ride my new powder skis! The only problem is that I have been snowboarding almost exclusively - and entirely exclusively on powder days - for the last 15 years. After my legs started the early afternoon Jell-O quiver, somehow I decided it would be a great idea to bomb down the Headwall Slot at Squaw Valley, USA. A dozen or so turns down the mountain, I learned that it was a poor decision indeed. A right-hand turn buried my uphill ski in the snow, and my transition to the next turn released the uphill ski. As a result, I tomahawked down the hill with my left ski on for a few rotations before it released. I felt a pull in my knee before the left ski went and thought "Oh shit, Erin is going to kill me. She is going to kill me." I was able to stand, get back in my skis, and make it down the hill, but something was decidedly wrong. Despite my best hopes, my medication of a few PBRs at Dave's Deli didn't improve my knee, so off to the doctor I went. A few visits later and several hundred dollars lighter I found out that I had partially torn my left MCL and was on rest and a brace until April 15th - only two days before the start of the hike. Luckily, no ACL or meniscus damage was observed. Erin did not kill me. 

Present day:

April 12, 2013, 0100 hours: The day has come. The gear is all here in the apartment, the food is present but yet to be boxed, the various digital gadget interfaces are (almost) set up, and I am 12 hours out from leaving my job to hike the PCT. I thought it was a leave of absence, but found out otherwise last Friday. That's the least of my worries right now. After months of planning, the to-do list is getting items added to it twice as fast as I can tick them off and neither Erin or I can manage a decent night's sleep. The little sleep that comes is dominated by dreams of scaling passes in the southern Sierras, of finding water in the desert in this dry year, and of swapping stories with the characters we meet along the trail. 

We will not be hiking alone: we have already had the support of almost everyone we know, and a few that we haven't met. We got a super-sweet deal on some Smartwool gear, and found out shortly thereafter that we were selected as gear testers for KEEN's new Olympus socks for the duration of our hike. Our parents will be supporting us by sending resupplies of food along the way, and will be hiking with us for some sections. Our friends will meet up with us and regale us with stories of life outside the trail while we inhale the food and enjoy the wine they bring us.  We are looking forward to scrambling on the AM dial to follow the San Francisco Giants throughout the season and can't wait for the blissful  realization when we'll be so far out of range that we can't hear anything about life at home. We look forward to meeting the Trail Angels whom we have heard so many stories of and hope to add to their lore. We will be hiking with other like-minded souls, and are eager to experience all the new opportunities that they and the trail bring. 

At the end of the day, we are just ready for mile zero.