Justin Kernes 8/14/19 Justin Kernes 8/14/19

PCT 2018: Days 107-110, Cascade Locks to Goat Rocks

Photos and stories from my thru-hike of the PCT. This post covers days 107-110 from Cascade Locks to Goat Rocks, mile 2,150-2,270.

August 19, Day 107
25.6 miles [2172.4]

Right before I turned out my light, a medium sized (only after seeing “Shocks’ encounter) centipede was scurrying around in my tent. Not terrible sleep considering the Woodstock vibes and creepy-crawlies. ALDHA provided a breakfast of bagels, schmear, and coffee, a perfect meal for soaking up last night’s booze. Headed out and over the bridge for a third and (hopefully haha) final time. Called Carter and spoke to Carly and Lee as well. I miss my Philmont friends. Way too much incline—11 miles and 3,500 feet worth—my pack is sincerely too heavy, I was hurting. Swamp-assed completely through my undies onto my pants. Dehydrated from yesterday’s beer-fest and felt gross most of the day. Made it to Three Corners Rock with “Sticky Fingers” and smoked a joint at the top. Powered through another 10 miles which turned out to be another 1,500-foot yo-yo. Felt things getting dark; I was tired and hurt and light was fading. Real down-and-out. Got to camp around 8:30 P.M. and had an expedient dinner with an IPA. Whooped, beat, thrashed, and damp. Washington is gorgeous.

View of Thunder Island from Bridge of the Gods.

Bridge of the Gods crossing into Washington.

August 20, Day 108
32.9 miles [2205.3]

Sloggy, long day which felt good at the beginning but I just wasn’t “into it” for some reason. Pleased to bust out big miles, anything over 30 still feels like a major accomplishment. Saw a 6-inch green slug, it must have been a banana slug, attempting to cross the trail. My gross-factor never turned to interest. Filled up at Panther Creek, the ferns and trees seemed straight out of Jurassic Park. Another 10 miles of uphill from 10:30-2 P.M. which sapped most of my morale, “Brownstreak” and “Sticky” were ahead for most of it. Lazy lunch break restored some energy. Passed by some magic spots which were fairly picked over like a barren hiker box. Drank some caffeine to combat the mileage. Between the Buried and Me’s Colors is still an amazing album, I head-banged like a lunatic to White Walls. Lots of green tunnel vibes, lots of smoke. Pushed to Blue Lake and made camp. Met “Avatar” and “Big Feet”. Tuna taco and got rid of my second beer, glad to have it gone.

August 21, Day 109
29.2 miles [2234.5]

First ten miles were a breeze, I averaged above 3.5 mph. Sort of psyched myself out for another full day of hiking, especially with nothing to distract me—I guess that speaks volumes. Moments of angst, but nevertheless, it was a good hiking day. “Shocks” mentioned he was having some stomach pain and I guessed it was TFG, but couldn’t be certain. Tried not to think about worst-case scenarios. Took breaks every five or so miles, then a great lunch at Trout Creek and he seemed relieved. Yesterday’s junglesque views morphed into decidedly more forested tunnels. Bushwhacked down a creek bed and met “Roadrunner” and “AutoPilot”, names I’d been seeing always two or three days ahead of mine in the trail logs. I offhandedly remarked about the Zia next to “Roadrunners” name; “New Mexico, it’s neither” and the three of us got to chatting while filling up water. A few degrees of separation later, “AutoPilot” told me her grandfather is Carl Gilmore—my WFR instructor from the Ranch, what a small fucking world! Picked either huckleberries or the largest blueberries I’ve ever seen, little gems of sweet-tartness. Ten-outta-ten staggering views of Mt. Adams just poked out of some burn area, we made camp in a small, lonely meadow. Ate dinner with our new friends though I don’t think I’m going to be at their same pace. Tuna taco with pepperoni and bacon bits, yummo. Fraught with nerves about the fire closures and impending, looming border closure. I guess I’ll cross that bridge when I get there, too.

August 22, Day 110
26.2 miles [2260.7]

A cold night which usually makes for easy sleep but my mind was awake, I don't know how that’s possible after a nearly thirty mile day. Woke to frost on meadow grass and on my tent and didn’t get moving until 8 A.M. Hiked the first quarter-mile in my puffy, all the while staring at Mt. Adams. Good God. I found myself understanding mountaineering on a non-verbal level, I want to summit harder peaks. Lot of angsty and wandering thoughts about trail closures, I had to stop and remind myself of good things: health, working gear, nice weather, ample food. Day progressively got better. Took lunch at Lava Springs and met “B”, a wild man who seemed more intent on living outdoors with his dog than hiking the trail. He had a fire going and I did a mediocre job of not letting it bother me. Mowed through a ton of food which is always good practice. Caught up to “Avatar” during a water fill-up and joked around, I haven’t seen many hikers this stretch. Camp is buggier than usual tonight. Swirling thoughts about turning 30. Age doesn’t signify much, just legal stuff (why did I write that?). Age doesn’t matter, just look at “Sassy-K”, she’s absolutely Living It; an inspiration for a floating soul. What a way to close out my twenties, more good things to come.

Hike On?

NoBo ->

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Justin Kernes 8/13/19 Justin Kernes 8/13/19

PCT 2018: Day 111, Goat Rocks and my 30th Birthday

Photos and stories from my thru-hike of the PCT. This post covers day 111, Goat Rocks and my 30th birthday.

August 23, 2018 | Day 111
17 miles [2276.7]

Woke up at 7:30 A.M. and startled myself when I didn’t see any tents around; I got over nine solid hours of sleep. Packed in 14 minutes, a new record, and started cruising. Started to rise above the dense timber and saw Mt. Adams, no clouds or smoke, it was clear. We’re easily in the best spot in Washington and arguably along the whole trail: Goat Rocks. Mt. Adam’s was clear, huge, and glimmering. “Shocks” and I took a glorious morning snack break at Cispus Pass and studied the massif like a Renaissance painting while pounding stroopwafels. Pure bliss. The trail was adorned in fields of alpine flowers, bubbling waterfalls, and luxurious puffy clouds. Guthook indicated there were some possible campsites along the stock alternate at the base of Old Snowy and “Shocks” had a penthouse suite in mind. Took our sweet time and mosied to the stock alternate and was gobsmacked by Mt. Rainier. Looming. Jagged. Red. An amazing 360-degree view of the Knife’s Edge. Found a dirt patch exactly the size of two tents and set up. Cooked a Knorr side for lunch, one I had been toting around for at least 400 miles, threw in some butter, garlic powder, e.v.o.o., and pepperoni slices. Refueled and resisted the urge to nap by summitting Old Snowy, took tons of photos. The entire day felt like a great gift: good company with my brother, great weather—I can count the number of days without clouds on one hand. Certainly the best birthday in recent memory. For the last eight years I would be getting home from the Ranch, either by train or with Carter and Imara, followed by a quiet day at home. What a remarkable way to break the trend. The next ten years I feel will be successful. Commit to hard work each and every day on anything art-related, there’s so much to do.

Hike On?

NoBo ->

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Justin Kernes 8/12/19 Justin Kernes 8/12/19

PCT 2018: Days 112-116, White Pass to Snoqualmie Pass

Photos and stories from my thru-hike of the PCT. This post covers days 112-116 from White Pass to Snoqualmie Pass, mile 2,270-2,390.

August 24, Day 112
~19.5 miles [2295.5]

Not an ideal night. Rough and windy, I was awake for most of 11-2 A.M. hours with a billowing rain fly. Summoned the courage and removed the fly, then took a horrendous dumb under an almost blinding full moon, fully engulfed in a bank of clouds. Managed a little sleep before giving up. Sunrise was completely shrouded by fog and clouds, I couldn’t see ahead of me more than 50 feet except for a brief five-second window. “Shocks” and “Tumbleweed” weren’t lazy (also they were the only ones who camped higher than us) and got a photo, I didn’t even touch my camera. Big shame. Got to Coyote Junction, mile 2278.6, and started down Packwood Lake reroute. It felt like 15 miles of steep descent which took us from 8-1 P.M. Stumbled into the trailhead and got a lucky hitch inside a horse trailer who’s cargo was an ATV, two motorbikes, and two blonde girls also hitching. I think that was the oddest ride so far. Went for coffee and it looked like “Roadrunner”, “AutoPilot”, and “Colonel Sanders” had made it down and shared the same idea. Americano never tasted better. Hitched to White Pass, “Sticky Fingers” and “Brownstreak” showed up. Picked up our resupply box from the Kracker Barrel. “Stick” gave me his vape pen battery, “Tumbleweed” gifted me her concentrate pods, and “Shocks” gave me his headphone dongle! THE TRAIL PROVIDES! Nearby apartment was offering free chili. I washed it down with a microwaved burrito. Picked the trail back up at mile 2294.9 and got about a mile out before setting up camp. Velveeta dinner—the tenth and final portion of that meal—and another beer. Shared camp with “Cray-Nip”. The border is closed and I am thoroughly bummed. I didn’t do this trail for the border alone but I feel horribly cheated if I can’t cross.

August 25, Day 113
28.2 miles [2323.7]

Nearly fell asleep before writing, I think I knocked out from 8-9:30 P.M. (I refuse to miss any entries). Chilly morning, I wore my rain/wind jacket most of the day. Passed by streams, creeks, and ponds of varying hues. About the time when afternoon clouds burned off it began raining and everything became damp and miserable. All my gear is wet, but not soaked, except for my quilt and sleep clothes. I spent a lot of time worrying about the consequences and how I’ll stay warm but I know I’ll learn as I continue. Lunch break at Bumping River and “Sticky” angled with his Tenkara. “Brownstreak” looked tired. Dense fog and mist swaddled me like a comforter made out of depression. Got to Chinook Pass and hunted for a suitable site just as the hypo began to set in. Hastily made camp and hung out in my tent with my remaining dry layers and ate a shit ton in an attempt to warm up. Somewhat concerned about tomorrow since it’s not going to be any warmer or drier. Cross that bridge when you get there. Just. Keep. Moving.

August 26, Day 114
23.3 miles [2347.0]

Very fortunate to have slept warmly. Commanding/summoning the motivation to hike was brutal. It was probably 48 degrees and anything which wasn’t inside my tent was completely soaked. Pulling on wet pants is a depressing way to start anyone’s morning, I wasn’t a happy camper. Squished into my shoes, at least wool socks mitigate the misery. “Shocks” only groaned when I wished him well, he eventually caught up in the afternoon. It threatened to get warm but never actually did. “Sticky” and I hiked together for a while before taking a 20-minute snack break. No one could sit longer or else they were going to get too cold. Kept moving just to keep my body working, it seemed. Drank my only packed beer for the illusion of warmth and happiness. Trudged and trudged until there was a clearing in the fog and I saw the Mike Urich cabin. Comments made it sound like the place would be rife with non-hikers but much to my luck and amazement the tiny ski hut was being run by more than a dozen hikers. Cold, wet, dehydrated to the point of thirst, and in caloric-deficit, I guzzled a liter and crammed a ton of snacks. There was a fire in the wood stove and suddenly the entire room felt very smoky. I felt hot. Went outside on the porch and got fetal (where it was 48 and drizzling) took off my puffy and started breathing like I was a first-time passenger in an overactive F-16. “Miraj”, I’d never met him before, kept an eye on me and brought me water—the hero we all need. Ten minutes later, as rapidly as it had come on, I was back to 95%. “Sticky” was a generous god and gave me a bite of his cinnamon toast and cookie butter sandwich. Inspired, I took the remaining tablespoon of communal butter and bread heels and whipped up a beurre noisette for my grilled cheese. Fat is king. Foggy views through the burn area were ghostly and mysterious. Pure Washington. Going to be challenging to get good sleep but it has to be better than camping out in the wet.

August 27, Day 115
23.8 miles [2370.8]

Not terrible sleep considering claustrophobic cabin circumstances, I only woke up a few times. Took some rips from “Beehive” and “Miraj” gave me an IPA. Ate a few of the remaining communal bars on the table and set off into the dull and dreary world, word was clear skies around noon. Trudged through seven miles of haunting fog and finally it cleared and I saw the sun. Rejuvenating and life-affirming, I felt happy. My soul was warm. Clouds are the best for hiking though, gray mist is good for nothing. Dried my tent out and saw “Brownstreak”. Took lunch at the stream with “Taco” and “Cray-Nip”. Lots of little dirt road crossings today. I wonder how they got there? Wandering thoughts turned to Breckenridge and upcoming photobook. Shared camp with a guy named “Croissant” on one of those nameless and unused roads. I’m certain I lost my beanie yesterday which is a total bummer, I’ve had it since my first summer camp over 15 years ago. I suppose it’s just another material item. Looking forward to Snoqualmie, perhaps I’ll get the pancake breakfast and a hotel/hostel. Tired of hiking but it’s still enjoyable, I just feel depleted. Nearly there. Relaxing evening in the tent.

August 28, Day 116
23.4 miles [2393.2]

Aardvarks “Hurry Curry”, in Snoqualmie; an explosion of nearly-forgotten flavors.

Enjoyable hike which was mostly full of hills. Psyched myself out about some inclines, but overall, very doable. Low on food but I knew about town and resupply. Ran into “Taco” and “Miraj” and we cruised under the lifts and down into Snoqualmie. Found some trail magic just before town. There was a food stand called Aardvark Express which served a very highly regarded “hurry curry”. Ordered one and was thoroughly amazed, so many flavors like long-lost friends I thought I had forgotten: cardamom and cinnamon chicken curry over rice with pineapple cornbread, cilantro, spinach, green apple, and spouts, a one-and-a-half-pound flavor masterpiece. Free Rainier beer to wash it down. Did a stealthy load of laundry at the Inn and emailed my references for housing. Picked up and sorted out resupply, bought beer, and road walked to the Alpine Club. It was an eclectic chalet with local mining and skiing memorabilia strewn about the stone and wooden walls. Very cool except for a skeevy old guy who is the on duty manager of the house, the kind of person who thinks he manages the universe. One of the loquacious and stronger-willed hikers got confrontational later in the evening; being a bum in the woods can have an impact on one’s self-confidence a little too much. Tried to stay clear and took a legit shower with a beer. Electricity and new friends meant we all stayed up late—a flameless campfire. Had a nice chillout with “Cray-nip”, “Doobie”, and “Miraj” outside with good laughs and more Rainier. Midnight snack of fine salami, probably left over from other hikers, I must remember to eat more tomorrow...with eggs.

NoBo ->

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Justin Kernes 8/11/19 Justin Kernes 8/11/19

PCT 2018: Days 117-120, Snoqualmie Pass to Skykomish

Photos and stories from my thru-hike of the PCT. This post covers days 117-120 from Snoqualmie Pass to Skykomish, mile 2,390-2,465.

August 29, Day 117
10.4 miles [2403.6]

I managed to sleep until 8 A.M. which is pretty good for a bunk bed in a hostel. Brewed coffee and chilled with the gang: “Cray-nip”, “Doobie”, “Taco”, “Miraj”, and “Shocks”. There was a new guy running the place and he inquired about the “situation” last night, hopefully we didn’t ruin anything for the trail community. Chilled hard at the Alpine Club. I made myself a proper breakfast—a buttery and runny three-egg scramble with salami which I deemed communal—a wonderful zen task I haven’t done since I started. Refilled my coffee mug for the second time and was buzzed. Hung out in the rec room and flipped through a photo book on turn-of-the-century logging in the Snoqualmie area, giving me thoughts for my book. Scrolled through lots of social media which is never particularly useful. Called Jimmy to confirm, it looks like we’re (nearly) roommates. Made lunch with the same package of salami except I threw it in a tortilla (you can’t change some habits) with nearly half a head of romaine and some seasoning; as close to pranzo on the Arno as I could get. More chillaxing, that vortex was exceptionally comfortable. Pulled the ripcord and left at 2 P.M. and straight into six miles of incline which wasn’t as bad as it looked on the map. Rocky and mountainous, more mysterious and brooding terrain begging to be explored. I picked the campsite which turned out to be a dry pond bed on the side of a ridge which doesn’t look like a great idea under dark skies. “Hard to imagine we’re less than 20 days away—”, “Shocks” interrupted me, “it’s more like 10, do you even know the cities left?” Big sigh. Weird feelings.

August 30, Day 118
24.3 miles [2427.9]

Lounged until 8 A.M. and greeted by more stormy and cold weather. Shocks seemed to want a buddy today so I hung around closer than normal. Stuffed bars into me, a hiking machine only requires calories. Clouds cleared enough to reveal some staggering mountainous terrain with trees and flowers which seemed quintessentially Washington. Used the mottled sunlight to dry off quilts and tents. The sun helped but it was a tough day to find motivation. Two big hills which were each six-plus miles. Tuna and cracker lunch restored some energy. Caught up to “Cray-nip” and “Beehive” for the last five miles which felt long but were all downhill. Set up camp along the Waptus River. Dinner was pasta primavera with a package of chicken as well as olives and some honey mustard bread pieces. It’s very difficult to contend with nearly being finished. My mind seems to have already moved on to Breckenridge, I’m ready to be there. Remember to slow down and enjoy these final few days.

August 31, Day 119
22 miles [2449.9]

The last day of August greeted me with drizzly and damp surroundings. “Beehive” and “Cray-nip” didn’t mess around and left. I was slow to start especially with a 10-mile hill, I was wheezin’ hard. Played a lot of the temperature regulation game by altering various combinations of jacket and buff. Blessed with an early 10:30 A.M. drying session when “Dingo” (mile 30 and mile 1,195!) passed us. We congratulated each other like war buddies who had made it back alive. His friend mentioned the border had reopened and I bellowed a triumphant howl, a roar from the deepest parts of my calloused feet and heart. This is big news for me, “Shocks” seemed unphased. Lunch was at a cascading stream, I had tuna with Combos, GORP, and a Milky Way bar. Took quite a few long, relaxing breaks which were peaceful. Completed the second hill and set up camp at the bottom of a frigid canyon, I’m going to snug up tonight. More aimless thoughts on Breckenridge, I should start envisioning less free-time, lord knows I’ll be stuck trying to earn money. I’m just excited to start this book. Dinner was chicken and rice Knorr with some tuna dumped in. A trail casserole? In typical fashion, I couldn’t wait to eat and most likely scorched my tongue. It’s been hard to motivate since the Alpine Club—got to take it in before it’s all over.

September 1, Day 120
17.3 miles [2464.2]

Damn—what a day. Slept until 7 A.M. and started hiking by 8:15 A.M. Easy enough terrain, flowy with a few small hills, a great hiking day with bro. Arrived at Steven’s Pass with hopes of food, but “Shocks” took a look at the menu and suddenly we both remembered what resort food entails. Ate some snacks and hung out on the pavilion watching mountain bikers, it got me excited for another ski season. Hard highway hitch but finally scored one going to Skykomish. Finally had a real lunch at 3 P.M. from Sky Deli and Liquor which was a garlic-chicken panini and an iced Americano, it actually tasted like espresso. It’s Labor Day weekend and it didn’t seem worth the three-day-wait for our resupply. Hitched to the Dinsmore’s with “Gandalf”, a goofy kid we met in Mammoth, he’s ending his hike here. Met Jerry and thanked him for his kindness. Dropped our gear and scored a hitch to Gold Bar by 6 P.M. Even remote areas of Washington have a vape and/or dispensary within walking distance. They were both open and had everything we wanted, hot damn. Resupplied at the Family Grocer—decent selection. “Shocks” yogied us a hitch from a guy who initially sketched me out and made me doubt strangers in the first place. “Jason” wanted to show us a local waterfall in the pitch black night. We stumbled down an embankment and onto the river rocks, just when I thought I was about to die, I realized he was a quirky dude who was just excited to talk to some hikers, he might have been one of the warmest souls I met. Thanked him for our last ride of the day, then did the shower and laundry shuffle. We did it—four hitches. Watched “The Informant!” and I read a few pages of “Yogi’s” book while winding down and she summarized thru-hiking: you feel invincible.

Hike On?

NoBo ->

<- SoBo

Justin Kernes 8/10/19 Justin Kernes 8/10/19

PCT 2018: Days 121-126, Skykomish to Stehekin

Photos and stories from my thru-hike of the PCT. This post covers days 121-126 from Skykomish to Stehekin, mile 2,465-2,570.

September 2, Day 121
12.4 miles [2476.6]

Rough night at the Dinsmore’s. Trains ran by what seemed like every hour, plus, being well hydrated with beer and water meant an out of the ordinary witching-hour piss. “Shocks” woke me at 8:30 A.M., he and “Gandalf” were almost packed. Jerry wasn’t up and around to thank which was a little disheartening, I can’t see this place being around much longer. Caught a hitch out with a current trail work volunteer “Spider” who was a part of rebuilding the brand new (and freshly re-opened) northern terminus monument. Hopped out at Skykomish and headed to the Cascadia Inn for brunch. All you could eat, I filled up on scrambled eggs, sausage and crispy bacon, hash browns with biscuits and gravy, plus fresh fruit; watermelon, pineapple, and strawberries. Coffee with real cream. The meal made up for more than one rainy day. Made a hasty sign and tried to hitch, eventually we ended up sweet talking a couple fueling up. Got to Steven’s Pass and “Shocks” gave a short phone call to the parents, then it was time to hike. On the way towards the trail we saw “Trash Queen” and “Penguin” trying to get the same challenging hitch from the highway. We hugged and caught up, looks like we all want to end on the same date. Hopefully we can meet and celebrate at the terminus. The weather was absolutely sublime. Saw a shit-ton of weekenders, many of whom congratulated us, it’s hard to contain my excitement when I tell people I started at Mexico. I felt unbelievably stoked and proud. Clear and cold night, no fly to watch the stars. Moments of anger about the Ranch, only because of Facebook. Who cares, move on.

September 3, Day 122
23.6 miles [2500.2]

That was the last flyless night I ever try in Washington. At 3 A.M. I woke to some cold sprinkles on my face and scrambled to put on my cover. Got a little more sleep and started moving by 8:30 A.M., snarfed a Pop Tart with butter. Stoked to hit the 2500 milestone. My nose has been constantly leaking in this cool weather. The forest is alive with color, rich hues of rust, umber, and olive. By the afternoon it had cleared up to reveal lots of nice clouds, a good reminder of how much time I spent without them, the sun and warmth felt wonderful during snack breaks. “Larry Bird” spotted a porcupine, I’ve never seen one in the wild before. It looked as though some quills were missing, just a little bedraggled. “TQ”, “Penguin”, and “Bear Can” caught us and we all shared camp at Reflection Pond. They are all aiming to finish on the 10th and doing 28 tomorrow, I’m not about it. Hopefully I see them again. Tuna taco with pepperoni and Cheetos. Remember to make your food last three days.

September 4, Day 123
25.4 miles [2525.6]

Restful slumber until “Trash Queen” and “Penguin” packed up, they left at 7 A.M. and we left an hour later—not in any rush. It was exceptionally gusty but a decent hiking day with more huge ups and downs, the last decline was 3,000-feet in five miles. Not a single flat section, the terrain was brutally technical with lots of rocks. Traversed a few miles which couldn’t have been the actual trail, just dozens and dozens of hikers making the same mistake at a hidden junction which wore in a new and more recognizable path. The tread was at an ankle-breaking angle with gnarled bushes and roots which clawed at your toes. During lunch “Shocks” was doing a poor job of holding back tears, offering no response. We trudged on. Just when I thought I was finished with the last hill, Milk Creek was full and didn’t have any available campsites which feels like my fault, of course they would be all taken, the spread of sites is stupid. The terrain is garbage. Looked at the map and started freaking out about another five mile incline as dusk was rapidly approaching. By the grace of St. John and his random pit toilets, there was a small clearing for a random pooper about a mile ahead which had barely enough room for three tents. We set up and made room for a third which was later filled. During dinner, “Shocks” briefly mentioned he was having a hard time with being finished. We sat quietly, not saying anything. I don’t feel the same currently but I know I will—I’ve always been that way. I’m going to miss this, deeply. Looking forward to the future, however, the present has been fucking sweet.

White Mountain and White Pass, mile 2502.

September 5, Day 124
27.2 miles [2551.8]

Slanted sleep, then a precarious poop less than 20 feet away from my tent which was my only unfavorable choice on location. Lathered up another Pop Tart with butter and began moving. Today’s terrain looked like a cross-section of a collapsed souffle, the final hill was a steady eight miles. It’s hard to silence the part of my brain which dreads hills, however I know I’ll be over and through it soon—a lesson on life. I only have one day of food remaining, not a half-day more, which has me slightly stressed. Guess I’ll have to snack-up at Holden Village. Low on podcasts once again and a wandering brain doesn’t feel good to have at the moment. Knees and legs are sore tonight. Our campsite is killer, we’re right on top of Cloudy Pass which is part of the fire reroute, alpine peaks in a smoky haze have me right back in the Sierra. Fought off more negative thoughts about the Ranch—not ideal. My lacking food situation makes it tough to stay positive. Big day ahead tomorrow, it’s all “off-map” which is going to be fun. Took a page from “Shocks’” cook book and made a Cheetos and Oreo peanut-butter-and-butter taco. He’s definitely on to something.

Dumbell Mountain and Lyman Lake from Cloudy Pass.

September 6, Day 125
~21 miles [2551.8]

Warmer than usual morning which had me hiking by 7:15 A.M. Absolutely stunning terrain, hard to imagine how much great trail is out there we otherwise would have never seen. Low on food, I was coasting on fumes, drinking water to fool my gut. Arrived at Holden village and missed the morning ferry by five minutes which left us with the option of waiting a few hours to take a $10 bus and an $8 ferry or hike out, both seemed to be the same amount of time. The lunch meal choice was a vegetarian sandwich which also didn’t sound like a great value for money. Somewhat dejected, I bought a few candy bars to chase my Clif bar and followed “Shocks” to the trail. Made it over the hot and hellacious Hilgard Pass which had to be more than six miles and was rewarded with downhill for the remainder of the day. Got to a large river crossing at dusk where there were a few other hikers attempting to find or make a suitable campsite. On the crossing I promptly plunged my foot into the current—mistimed my jump. “Shocks” and I eyeballed the topo and he voted to bust out the last four miles in the dark but my money says it was closer to six, plus, it’s not PCT-grade, we could have gotten a nasty, unknown surprise. Found the flattest ground with the least amount of rocks and made camp. Savored my last tuna taco with a handful of dusty and broken chips along with a package of M&M’s. It’ll work but I’m definitely hungry. Stoked for the final resupply, I think there’s one gnocchi meal remaining.

September 7, Day 126
6.5 miles [2571.8]

Uncomfortable setup as my back later revealed but I slept well nonetheless. Up and moving by 7 A.M. with my puffy for about two miles, it was shady and cool. No map-checking so I took what came to me. Cruised six miles or so to the road (definitely more than four) and made a quick assessment: go to the bakery. Devoured a pesto, onion, and Swiss croissant pocket which was a sincere 9/10, lots of coffee too. Caught the free shuttle to Stehekin and was blown away by the waterfront of Lake Chelan—chill vibes, gorgeous sun. Saw “Brownstreak” and “Miraj” at the lodge! Sat and talked, drank two beers, and went through our final resupply box. Also managed to download two podcasts on their slow network. Picked up a permit for zero miles which seemed to bum “Shocks” out, but I knew “Panda”, “Doobie” and a few others were gonna stick around at the bridge. Shuttled back to the bakery for a bacon and onion quiche and I got suckered into paying $3.50 for a root beer. Caught the bus for High Bridge Ranger Station with a few other hikers. Rain is in the forecast and certainly threatening at the moment.

Hike On?

NoBo ->

<- SoBo

Justin Kernes 8/9/19 Justin Kernes 8/9/19

PCT 2018: Days 127-130, Stehekin to Canada-USA border

Photos and stories from my thru-hike of the PCT. This post covers days 127-130 from Stehekin to the Canada-USA border, mile 2,570-2,652.

September 8, Day 127
27 miles [2598.8]

Had a hard time falling asleep which is rare. The threatening rain had turned to wet clouds, we hit the trail around 7 A.M. and I ate a Probar. Very long but not exceptionally strenuous 20-miles uphill to Rainy Pass was easy enough. Elon’s interview was a pretty fun distraction. Had a cool and quiet lunch break before the pass; peanut butter on day-old biscuits and jerky with Nutter Butter dessert. Drank caffeinated Mio like I was dehydrated in the desert. Met “Skaggit Ed” at Highway 20 and he had magic. He handed me an IPA and some amazing fudge. Did a few miles with “Panda” before the pass. It’s another cold night, there’s snow in the forecast. I’m not worried, rain is by far the hardest challenge. Cooked a jambalaya as best as possible and followed it with a Snickers. Started a list of things to do at home before moving to Colorado. Trail was quiet today, didn’t see many people. The end is on the tip of my tongue.

September 9, Day 128
24.7 miles [2622.0]

Brisk morning, rolled out close to 8 A.M. and headed for Methow Pass, shoveled Mojo bars into my mouth like coal into a locomotive. Harts Pass is closed northbound for a few miles which makes this our third reroute (I think). Listened to The Avett Brothers interview for the fourth time. It was cloudy all day and threatening rain, a typical sight. Spam and cracker lunch just as it began to drizzle but fortunately it never developed any further. Saw “Panda” and his pops at Hart Pass and learned his real name. They spoiled us and he let us raid all his extra food supplies, we took chicken and candy. Leapfrogged “Butters” and “Hot Mess” and I finally remembered their names without having to ask again. Man, I think we first saw them in the desert. “Shocks” and I smooshed our tents together and cooked in between the vestibules—chicken and noodles. I’m so unbelievably close to being finished: I want it so bad and not at all, at the same time.

September 10, Day 129
~25.1 miles [2644.3]

It’s my last night on trail. I woke up at 4:45 A.M. to light sounds of rain, like the crackling of fading fireworks. Tossed and dozed for four hours and finally got the gumption to pack. It was drizzly and wet most of the day, I spent the first four miles in the puffy and rain jacket, I was actually cold. My pants soaked up all the moisture from the overgrown brush. Kept putting one in front of the other, I ran out of podcasts and music long ago. Saw “Panda” one last time, saw “Brownstreak” one last time; they’re headed back to Harts Pass. Saw quite a few people I’ve met over the past few days but never took the time to officially meet and learn names. My hands were numb most of the day, feet pruney from wet socks. It’s currently raining and I need to pee. Tomorrow, I will become a thru-hiker. It’s taken over a year and more than what I spent on my car, probably 3,000 miles and almost more nights camping in a tent than my entire BSA career. There’s so much more to do, I’ve only just begun.

September 11, Day 130
16.3 miles [2652.6]

“Shocks” and “Tiny Slice”, PCT northern terminus.

My last cold start. Woke up, wide awake, at 4:30 A.M. thinking about the last day. Put on all my layers once again and got moving. My knee panged throughout the night and hiking certainly didn’t improve my condition. In some weird turn of events it was the only thing I could concentrate on. Less than nine miles to the monument and then I saw it—and felt nothing. When I went to pen my name in the log book I was trembling, my entire body welled up like I was going to implode—I made it. Celebratory joints with “Beehive”, “Cray-nip”, and “Feather”, “Shocks” surprised me and pulled out a small bottle of Jack. Also at the terminus was “Roadrunner”, “AutoPilot”, and “Colonel Sanders”. Everyone congratulated each other sincerely, we are the only ones who know what we went through. Time to leave, no sense in lingering it seemed. Hike to Manning Park was rough, I limped the whole eight miles. Got to the cafe and drank the as-advertised free coffee with as much cream as they would bring me. Hardest hitch was the final one, but after an hour of looking hopeful on an international highway near a border, Ramayaan was our savior and picked us up and drove us to Coquitlam, more than 100 miles. Starbucks for internet and a quick and dirty A&W burger (not worth it) before we figured out a metro train into Vancouver. Mistimed our transfer train and it took us a few tries of hopping off and on to figure it out—it’s so much easier to correct your mistakes at walking pace. No hotels, so we bought a 6 A.M. flight on our phones. After walking an extra block since we couldn’t remember where we got off, we took the last train into the station. Bought a Canadian Wendy’s burger and set up a makeshift camp in the lobby and got our packs ready for tomorrow. Today? It’s 2 A.M.; I’m a fucking thru-hiker.

Hike On?

<- SoBo

Justin Kernes 7/12/19 Justin Kernes 7/12/19

PCT 2018: Days 88-92, Ashland to Crater Lake

Photos and stories from my thru-hike of the PCT. This post covers days 88-92 from Ashland to Crater Lake, mile 1,700-1,820.

July 31, Day 88
0 miles [1717.7]

Spent the night under a desk which was exactly my size. Slept in until 6 A.M. which counts as late, giving us plenty of time to enjoy a continental breakfast, an event which I usually find scheduled far too early to be useful. Enjoyed a couple hard boiled eggs and a bagel with an atrocious amount of single-serving cream cheese pucks as well as coffee and orange juice just like TV ads say I should. It was a stressful day but I’ve come to expect that from town and resupply missions. The girls took charge on deciphering the public bus system. Two bus rides later we made it to Medford which had a mega shopping center and everything we “needed”. Did Kohl’s first figuring I could spend less. I found a new shirt solution in the Men’s Athletic section for only $30 and said goodbye to my Frakensteinian spirithood creation. Gang had been fantasizing about REI and despite my frugal ethos I gave in with ease, after all, I needed pants. The kind associate took me to the kids section and grabbed a large after I insisted I was currently wearing a 30 and needed something smaller. They fit like a glove and for $50 I had to remind myself it was a necessity. Also picked up a new water filter—goodbye 6 min/L fill times. With most of our gear-related issues addressed, we couldn’t resist the smell of In-N-Out any longer. Cheeseburger, fries, and a Coke was all that I remembered, possibly more. Jimmy called and asked about my winter plans, said he has a room available! I’m stunned and stoked, deciding tomorrow. Got off at the “wrong” Post Office with “Snacks”—who knew there were two? Mailed home some extra trail weight and my thoroughly used pants. Safeway was practically the only option for resupply and it wasn’t ideal, expensive and lacking in variety. “Penguin” and “Trash Queen” planned on buying and sending the rest of their food, Washington included, from here. The smell of stress was palpable but to each their credit they got it done, something I couldn’t imagine Adam and I having planned for back at home. Figured out the bus back to the hotel and decompressed at the hot tub. Cleansed with an entire bag of spinach and the remainder of last night’s ranch wing dip. Almost as busy as a 30-mile day.

August 1, Day 89
23.6 miles [1741.3]

Another restful night under the Comfort Inn and Suites’ desk. The seven of us packed and slowly vacated our now grody smelling room and got breakfast. Shared the herb butter I accidentally bought and spread it on a few English muffins. Knew it was a hiking day and forced down a couple more hard boiled eggs. Gang spent almost an hour trying to hitch out because it was a poor location quite far from the trail and basically on the side of the highway. We split up and eventually “Flipper”, “Froggy”, and I got a hitch from some parents who nervously joked about not being killed. We insisted that any real instrument of harm was likely far too heavy to carry and we were relatively harmless besides our smell. Got dropped off at the trailhead and I called Jimmy back to confirm about winter. Stoked. Sluggish, unmotivated miles, no doubt a side effect from beer and of post-zero blues. Ran into a couple of locals who warned me a large rattlesnake was curled up on the trail. I nodded and smiled because this was clearly another spurious wildlife spotting from untested day-hikers. Sure enough, a few hundred feet up and coiled dead center in the trail in an area littered with downfall was the largest or possibly second-largest rattlesnake I have seen. I didn’t know they could be greener than olives. I extended my pole and gently tried to coax him along which got “Penguin” frantically yelling at me—it was almost more stressful than the snake which had begun rattling—he slithered on. Since lunch was a tuna taco, dinner was cold-soak Ramen and a peanut butter and Oreo dessert taco. Shared a campsite with an older man named “Tequila Jon”, his name seems pretty self-explanatory. Camping at Little Hyatt reservoir and it has the first water which distinctly tastes like pond; not a great place to christen my new filter. Happy August.

August 2 Day 90
25.9 miles [1767.2]

Despite getting good sleep I felt tired for the majority of the day. It was only 26 flattish miles but they seemed difficult, I booked the last four as if it would somehow bring me closer to the end. Took lots of frequent breaks. My apathy weighs more than my pack. I have been thinking a lot about hikers skipping this section due to smoke and fire, which has been improving each day, and it’s shameful to admit it makes me frustrated. We’re out here busting our butts just like any other hiking day, there’s no reason to skip—yet. It’s antagonizing to hear hikers justify their reasoning. Whatever, HYOH, you’re capable of more than you realize. Ignored my rationing mind and nearly finished my Airheads supply and crushed the one Miller I had packed out during lunch. Wandering thoughts turned to Colorado, working on art, and being able to use a kitchen. Water sources have spread out to more than 10-mile carries. Not ideal, it certainly made enjoying the terrain more challenging. “Conflicted” caught back up and it boosted my spirits, his banter provides much needed distraction. Lots of chatter on planned finish dates which makes me anxious. To what degree am I responsible for catching up to Adam to see our parents in Cascade Locks? As much as I want to be done, I love the people I’m with and would gladly go to the border with them. Gang is planning on being at Crater Lake in two days, Adam will certainly not be there but Sam Schoevaars is flying in, “Flipper” said it will be a surprise. I hate deciding. It’s all going to work out.

August 3, Day 91
26.5 miles [1793.7]

Another day where I felt off, this nicotine pen can’t be helping. Today was good, I’m just so tired of hiking. I want a vacation. Walking is my job, it doesn’t seem fun anymore. Perhaps it’s the ongoing lack of big views, there’s too much smoke and trees, we joke about the Green Tunnel and how that must feel. Stressed about leaving the group and making it Cascade Locks on my own. “Penguin” reminded me Washington is 353 miles away and it dawned on me that my parents will arrive in 13 days which means I need to average over 27 miles a day without any zeros to make this “deadline”. My group doesn’t plan on that pace and the longer I hang out the more miles I’ll have to make up. Realized I went through a few of the five stages of grief during today’s hike. There’s no reason to be angry at my folks, even though this will be their third visit. Morning temps were legitimately cold and it was hard to break a sweat. Another tuna lunch and ramen dinner. Ramen is calories at this point, I should probably stop carrying it in favor of better items. Legitimately low on food but perhaps it’s the lack of choice which makes me think this, I probably have day’s worth remaining. More long water carries today and another 20-stretch tomorrow. I need to get back to setting manageable goals, I’m planning too far into the future. A good head-space makes for easy miles.

August 4, Day 92
28.2 miles [1820.9]

Drunk, not in the mood to write. Uninterrupted sleep and an early start where I took the lead, something I never do—it seems like “Froggy” is always first—and enjoyed a clear morning. Easy, flat miles, the thought of arriving at Crater Lake is enough to make anyone keep putting one in front of the other. Had lots of solitary time to think about leaving my trail family. Great lunch break, tuna, of course, in the shade where you needed a jacket but unzipped, we just enjoyed each other's company. Arrived at Mazama Village and celebrated. “Goat Man”, “Dutchie”, and “Trash Queen” were all there and many other hikers I recognized but never met. Picked up my half of our resupply box Adam thoughtfully left me, I even got a nice note too. Bought quite a few $1.60 beers and gang decided to splurge for a meal at the resort restaurant. I had meatloaf, fries, and beans which looked like the most filling, cost-effective option. Under the table, “Flipper” secretly passed around a bottle of Jim from their resupply. Found camp and set up in the dark. Congregated around the hiker campfire and quietly proceeded to spiral out of control. I’m drunk, high, and overwhelmed about how I’m getting to Washington and what that’s going to look like. I feel alone again. I don’t want to leave—but I have to. I can’t afford the zero tomorrow and make consecutive 30’s. Everything will be OK, stop stressing, why worry?

(L-R) “Dutchie”, “Goat Man”, and “Penguin”.

Hike On?

NoBo ->

<- SoBo

Justin Kernes 7/11/19 Justin Kernes 7/11/19

PCT 2018: Days 93-95, Crater Lake to Shelter Cove

Photos and stories from my thru-hike of the PCT. This post covers days 93-95 from Crater Lake to Shelter Cove, mile 1,820-1,900.

August 5, Day 93
28.5 miles [1848.4 ]

Piss-poor drunken sleep, my mind was completely obsessed with leaving. Woke up in the same thought pattern I had fallen asleep to, like it was the same day. Listened to my own trail register advice which I’ve been writing for nearly two-thousand miles and Committed to packing. Gear on and sunrise breaking, I left a super-lame see-ya-later note for “Flipper & Friends”, then walked back to the restaurant with “Conflicted” for a cup of coffee. “Silver Fox”, a familiar hiker yet I’m unacquainted, paid for our brews; it was a wonderful gesture. About to leave when “Flipper” and Sam—honorarily “Sunburnt”—sat down for breakfast. Talked and hung out as long as possible, snagged a group photo for posterity sake; I can’t believe I know those hooligans from Philmont. Apologized for leaving once again, then “Conflicted” and I began hiking. I knew it was going to be smoky and thought about coming back rather than the marred view. The Lake sprawled much larger than I had imagined, much like my first visit to the Grand Canyon when I was 12—it must be even more incredible on a clear day. Tons of tourists and clean day hikers which was expected, it was fun being an utter bum and attracting looks and conversations about “those PCT hikers”. Took a lunch atop the Watchman and crushed the one beer I decided to carry, that didn’t last long. Cruised around the rim, slowly, it was at our backs. Met a total cutie at the highway water cache who only started yesterday and is planning on going to Washington; I called her “Locks”, maybe it sticks. “Brownstreak” caught up! He’s been behind since Tahoe, and not long after, “Sticky Fingers” showed up, looks like he’s not taking a zero either. Hiked behind “Goat Man” for five miles and talked the whole time about vanlife and taking life after trail to the next level—great guy. A fiery sunset swatting skeeters away. Coerced “Conflicted” into letting me use his stove for my gnocchi meal. “Sticky” gave me a spoonful of cookie butter and now I know what my first hit of heroin feels like. Tonight’s camp has faces I recognize and some I don’t.

August 6, Day 94
33.8 miles [1882.2]

Smoky night which turned into a damp and chilly dawn, my quilt had a fair bit of dewy condensation. The five or seven tents which were up last night had already dwindled to three before I was packed, strapped, and moving. It’s odd trailing a group of people “by myself”, but I guess that’s what the majority of hikers have already gone through. In the first mile “Sticky” caught up, he must have been looking for a friend too, and we did the morning-10 together. Had a good laugh beneath the base of Mt. Theilsen—”Stick’s” friend said it was “non-technical” and there couldn’t be a more sinister looking peak in the entire state; certainly Class 3 and above. Lunch with “Stick” and “Streak” where I had a pepperoni roll-up appetizer and tuna taco as a main. Kept a steady pace through meandering hills. Realized I’m going to hit 2,000 miles before Day 100 (what a positively gorgeous reduction) and I can’t stop smiling. Twenty a day is way better than counting chairs in a lift shack for eight hours. Crossed the Oregon high point which felt lackluster after all the trail’s had to offer, a fun milestone nonetheless. I pushed past Windigo dirt road after 6:20 P.M. and did another four, absolutely annihilating nearly 34 today and it feels great. Breakfast for dinner: a House biscuits and gravy, I still have lots of food left—oops, more tomorrow. Ha! Soaring spirits and another note from “Shocks”. Tomorrow, our trails cross.

justin-kernes-oregon-washington-high-point-pct-self-portrait.jpg

August 7, Day 95
24.9 miles [1907.1]

Great sleep, got the lead out early and crushed 14.3 before 11 A.M. Finding my motivation since leaving Crater Lake has been an easy choice. Abundant water sources saw the vengeful return of mosquitoes which is kinda irksome. “Sticky” caught up to me by the afternoon and we cruised into Shelter Cove before 3 P.M. Despite having plenty of trail sustenance and picking up more, I was weak—like always—to resist real food and we split an absolutely FIRE chicken pesto pizza. I ate way too much, I haven’t hurt that bad since the AYCE buffet back at Harrah's. Waddled over to the lake, it’s gorgeous. Mountains are the purest form of escape but a large, secluded body of water does the trick. I realized kids who grew up in the Midwest and camped at lakes had a unique nature experience all their own, mountains or not. Uncomfortably stuffed my consciousness slipped like Altras on scree, it was warm and a cool breeze wafted through the shade; summer weather perfection. In my digestive haze, I met “Sassy-K” who remarked at my similarity with another hiker, then put it together and interrupted herself to mention that “Shocks” was probably looking for me. Adam is in great spirits and I’m stoked to see him. “Brownsteak” and “Conflicted” rolled in as well and all of us splayed out in the shade punch-drunk on mileage just like it was the Sierra. Everyone traded stories of Oregon-so-far. Decided it would be a rough night at the campground/resort and hoofed it back to the trail just as last light waned. Tipsy, full, and tired, we could have hiked another five but I found a good spot in less than a half-mile and everyone rejoiced. It feels good to hang with these four again.

Hike On?

NoBo ->

<- SoBo

Justin Kernes 7/10/19 Justin Kernes 7/10/19

PCT 2018: Days 96-99, Shelter Cove to Sisters

Photos and stories from my thru-hike of the PCT. This post covers days 96-99 from Shelter Cove to Sisters, Oregon, mile 1,900-2,000.

August 8, Day 96
31.2 miles [1938.3]

I can’t believe I slept until 6:15 camped next to four other people and still managed to be the first one out of camp. First seven miles ahead, then I took a nice hour-long break at Maiden Peak shelter; I think I waited 30 minutes before “Brownstreak” sat down and ate a thawed microwave-burrito. It felt hard to find or make motivation, yesterday’s diet certainly did not help. Caught wind of trail magic at Charlton Lake and suddenly forgot about my sluggish woes. “Ducky”—2-for-3 on the trails—and his dad were super eccentric and holding court with at least six hikers. There were a pair of ladies, Hannah and “Sparkles” who were much more introverted and manned a grilled cheese station. I was lame and didn’t really chat much with our hosts past the usual profuse thank-yous, everything hurt and all I could see was food. Both parties were beyond well-equipped and more than a dozen hikers sat and ate to their heart’s content. I had two grilled cheese with fresh tomato and pickle toppers, Doritos and choc-chip cookies, plus a Coke and two IPAs. There were Ben and Jerry’s pints(!) but “Sticky” and I were stuffed once again and chose to split a Cherry Garcia. Pack on, waddled out, and found a pace and cranked miles out, passing dozens of scummy ponds between massive meditative lakes. Didn’t see anyone else and only two hikers passed me. Dusk set in and I thought I was behind, the trail was smooth, and I was angsty so I ran the last three in under a half-hour. It got dark and I set up—it’s officially my first night alone. It’s boring, nice, sad; I’m tired and proud. The mosquitoes at this lake are savage but I’m safe in my tent sanctuary just like everyone else.

August 9, Day 97
27.5 miles [1965.8]

All-over, a hard day. Good sleep after 10:30 P.M. once the few other late hikers settled in—looks like I didn’t camp alone after all. It also turned out camping by a lake meant no respite from mosquitoes and I packed in a constant orbit around my camp, never pausing to get bit. Hike was hard despite an easy downhill morning, I think I had strained a few ligaments on the arch of my left foot from last night’s panicked run to catch up. Thought a lot about being behind and how I just managed to reconnect with “Shocks”, I worried about being on my own once again. I thought I beat this? It was a hot afternoon and I found a decent stream in the shade which was a good excuse to wash socks and deduct 12-ounces of beer weight—I chilled it in the stream while scrubbing. Hot afternoon and being sore didn’t help. Turned out I was ahead. “Shocks” caught up and we took lunch, salmon taco, and split my other beer. The last few miles were pretty nice; South Sister is straight up epic and Mt. Jefferson looks dope—I’m ready to ski. Filled up at an extremely milky creek which filtered clear, don’t want to think about what it did to my filter. “Lost Dog” produced a quart-zip stuffed with bud from a trail angel and offered me a handful. Dinner was Velveeta salsa mac, then we set up in the meadow. “Conflicted” and “Sassy-K” said they both struggled; today’s terrain was tough and we all agreed it probably had something to do with the lack of views despite the last few spectacular miles. Out of spare power and it’s stressful, but it’ll work out. Less than 40 away from the 2K milestone—in under 100 days!

August 10, Day 98
30.1 miles [1995.1]

I must have set up on a queen mattress; the meadow grass and cold, wet air made for a glorious night of sleep. Another challenging day but the views more than made up for it; sparse, tortured trees, expansive meadows, streams and rocks, I would hike Oregon again for this stretch alone. Took a lengthy break at Sister Spring. “Conflicted” was a constant stream of gender pronoun jokes and I was nearly brought to tears with laughter; the best kind of breaks. Obsidian Falls was a nice surprise. Arrived at McKenzie Pass later in the afternoon and found a magic cache which had Doritos, Coke, and the juiciest, best peach of the entire season. Spotted “Coppertone’s” tell-tale RV and got a root beer float and took a nice sit. Nobody was stoked to figure out there were 13 more through some treacherous lava fields for a reliable camp. Found the courage to leave and struggled the entire time, each step pinched and stabbed, sharp rocks tenderized my poor feet, I would have rather walked through a pit of gnashing crocodiles. Rewarded, almost on a spiritual level, with a fiery sunset who’s rusted hues from smoke backlit ghostly, bone-white trees. It might well have been Mars. “Brownstreak” and “Shocks” caught up and we stumbled into Big Lake Youth Camp as the last bit of light vanished. I was immediately reminded of Philmont, all summer camps have a similar vibe: cute overall map, dining hall and meal hours, and someone who invariably exclaims “Hi, welcome to camp!” in a cheery and effervescent tone which borders too closely on psychosis. Directed to the “hiker area” and “Shocks” and I settled on a beach outcropping with a volleyball net. The sand feels great but I know everything will be soaked tomorrow morning. Oh well.

Mount Washington Wilderness and the Three Sisters.

mount-washington-wilderness-area-lava-fields-switchback.jpg

August 11, Day 99
9.7 miles [2002.3]

As predicted, I woke up soggy on the volleyball sand near the water’s edge, a wall of low fog obscured the opposite bank of Big Lake. Huge windfall to have the hiker hut open a full hour earlier than posted. The shower I scouted yesterday was empty, no towels were hanging up, no one was loitering; I snagged the first one. Split a load of laundry, fueled up on coffee, and responded to the renter’s application. Ate at the dining hall and heard the clamoring of rowdy chow-hall kids and could feel myself drifting back to camp. I’m happy where I am but I can’t help but think about another summer, perhaps that’s always going to happen. Untoasted bagels two-ways; butter and tomato, then cream cheese and raspberry jelly followed by fresh strawberries and watermelon chunks and a side of yogurt made for a complete breakfast. Fully charged and clean, “Streak”, “Shocks”, “Conflicted”, and I headed a measly six miles to Santiam Pass, despite being offered a ride—everyone’s mood seemed to be in a hiking spirit. Crossed mile 2,000! Almost had a difficult hitch into Sisters before a pickup picked us up, I managed to konk out on the highway, wind and hair whipping me deaf in the bed. Hitch took us two miles too far which was stressful for “Conflicted” and I let him wind me up, plus it had been a few hours and miles since anyone had eaten. Found a lunch spot and had a chicken-bacon-brioche number with a 10-outta-10 habanero hot sauce (Aardvarks) and waffle fries. Used their free wifi and refilled my podcast feed. Temporarily sated, we made our last resupply for Oregon. Managed to reconnect with Sam Anderson and also got a surprise call from Pete Bergene. Hard hitch back to trail but I know now it always works out, easy to remember two beers deep dancing with my thumb outstretched on the side of a highway on a warm summer’s night.

Hike On?

NoBo ->

<- SoBo

Justin Kernes 7/9/19 Justin Kernes 7/9/19

PCT 2018: Days 100-104, Sisters to Cascade Locks

Photos and stories from my thru-hike of the PCT. This post covers days 100-104 from Sisters to Cascade Locks, mile 2,000-2,150.

August 12, Day 100
30.6 miles [2032.9]

Hard 30, quilt soaked for the second day in a row. Had a nice 360-degree view about six miles up, then took breakfast which was a peanut butter and bacon roll-up. Admired Three Fingered Jack. Spent a lot of the day in burned areas which is an odd mix of barrenness and austerity. Dried gear out at Rockpile lake during lunch. “Streak” was preparing for his 24-hour Challenge (read: napping, eating, and hydrating until dusk). “Horny Toad” was also there and recognized me from Hikertown back in the Mojave. Mount Jefferson peeked into view most of the day, eventually the trail opened up enough for a relaxed study. Nice break at Shale Lake with a few Polish hikers who I had been leapfrogging every week or so since Etna. We hung out and snacked—what a cool bunch. “Panda” caught up to us later in the afternoon. Saw a dead horse in the river, bloated and gray on the verge of bursting, thank God for nanofiber membranes. Finished the day cold and tired, must have botched my calorie intake. I was in decent spirits but I’ve realized “Shocks” likes to sleep in a little later and hike past dusk. Hungry, tired, and dark, we stopped at 8:45 P.M., but I guess if I don’t like it I can stop whenever I want and catch up in the morning. Had dinner in my tent: tuna taco and a Fireball chaser. Didn’t give much thought to Day 100. Remember, keep being awake. As the Avett Brothers sing, “it’s happening, right now to you.”

August 13, Day 101
31.7 miles [2064.6]

A few miles of incline to reach the top of Mt. Hood Wilderness and a first proper look at the monstrosity. Felt the urge to summit, perhaps one day. Fairly flat ten miles to Ollalie Lake where I had a relaxing hour-long snack break. An Illinois man by the name of “Slide” bought me a coffee since I was out of bills—such a nice gesture. Saw “Panda” as well and finally shook hands and met “MacGuyver (Boy)”, just as interesting as his penned name suggested. Listened to podcasts for most of the day and had a few quiet snack breaks to myself. Passed by ponds, streams, rivers, and lakes, they all looked the same. Had a good sit in a field of purple poodle-dog-esque flowers. Leapfrogged “Conflicted” quite a bit, he’s 24-ing all the way to Timberline, what a man. Kept dreaming about the buffet, the Guthook comments only entice me further. Met a section hiker named “Biscuit” at the end of the day and she set up camp beside “Shocks” and me. During diner conversation she elaborated on the finer points when one forages for mushrooms and crystals, an interesting person to say the least. I rolled my first joint in years and shared with “Shocks”, it was all loosey-goosey and bent. I need to figure out winter housing but there’s not much I can do. Sure hope it works.

August 14, Day 102
32.3 miles [2096.9]

First one to leave, thankful for the lack of bugs. Haven’t seen too many in the past few days, perhaps it’s because of the prolonged smoke. Took an early lunch/late breakfast at Little Crater Lake; peanut butter and GORP taco with wasabi soy almonds that “Conflicted” turned me on to. Tons of tourists, even a school bus’s worth of elementary school kids found their way to the small attraction. The adults in the group knew we were thru-hikers and told the kids. Most made a shocked face once they understood except for one kid who looked disgusted and sour, I cackled like a hyena—not a thru-hiker. Highway 26 had a little magic. Marilyn was all out of beef patties but had a veggie remaining. I figured enough charcoal, onions, mustard, and raw mileage could make any burger taste bovine. Potato salad was an added indulgence. A fair bit of fear-mongering for the last few miles into Timberline but the sandy terrain turned out not to be as bad as let on. In fact, the view more than made up for it; Mount Hood is incredible. Stupid-huge. Rolled my fourth joint in years (they’re getting better) and shared with “Panda” and “Shocks”. “Streak” left a note detailing his 24-hour Challenge results and physical condition. I knew he had it in him, but over 70 miles with a pack is crazy. Pulled into Timberline and spotted “Conflicted’s” tent. Tons of SoBos floating around the lodge and area. Called mom and she’s sending our next resupply, they are flying out tomorrow. Upon crawling into my tent, “Shocks” informed me we just did 96 miles in three days—bang bang! Got some new blisters which serve as a reminder of how good healthy feet can be. Still stoked on brunch.

August 15, Day 103
21.8 miles [2118.7]

Woke naturally around 6:30 A.M. and saw the hazy sunrise over one of Hood’s massive ridges. Packed and headed for the hotel lobby. Part of me was hoping the interior looked like The Shining but it was completely unique all its own, I should have snagged some photos but I was too preoccupied with eating followed by an immediate food coma. Piled my plate high with scrambled eggs, fresh croissants, greasy sausage patties and hot biscuits with gravy, juicy watermelon, and an ice-cold berry medley smoothie. “Conflicted” was feeling proud of his 24 Challenge and decided to have the buffet for a second day in a row. Did as much damage as I could, then utilized the WiFi and comfy lounge area while digesting to catch up on internet life. Got a promising email and phone call for winter housing. “Shocks” was better at escaping the vortex and left, “Conflicted” and I took a little longer to vacate. Headed out under the glory of Mount Hood. The haze obscured the peak somewhat but enough to truly recognize its beastly size. Saw some skiers heading for a lift and even a few distant ones making turns which practically gave me vertigo; skiing in the second week of August is weird, unnatural. Out of dabs, I rolled another joint and made slow time. A day-hiker who was returning from Ramona Falls saw me and assumed I was in need of a morale boost—perhaps it was my resting exhalation face—and gave me an overly excited “You’re almost at the falls!” to which I replied, “Nice, how far to Canada?” and her friends all exploded with laughter. The Falls were a lovely detour. Struggled through a tough 1,500 foot climb a few miles before camp and didn’t play the snack game well late in the afternoon on account of brunch. Border is close.

August 16, Day 104
28.1 miles [2146.8]

Waked and baked with my newfound rolling skills. Easy enough elevation gain and loss, but tough, jagged trails made for frustrating progress. Famed Eagle Creek alternate was closed and we missed the waterfall giving me yet another reason to return. Good snack break on Wahtum Lake, new favorite candy item are ginger-lemon gummies. I saw a few crayfish and was admiring nature so much I picked one up and was promptly pinched, let out a good squeal. I think I could’ve harvested a half-dozen for a cook-up. Met a hiker who immediately got into the “where did you start?” conversation and shared that she skipped a few hundred because of the smoke and wasn’t feeling guilty in the least. I smiled politely and nodded my head reassuringly in a hike-your-own-hike fashion but I can’t understand why people feel compelled to share those details. Now I know you skipped, you know you skipped, does it make you feel better? I guess it comes out easier when you think about it all day. Most of my afternoon thoughts revolved around leaving Oregon. Hiked until 6 P.M. and our parents met us just before Bridge of the Gods. Saw “Power Mode” at the bridge’s toll booth admiring another state completed, I haven’t seen her since around mile 300. It felt like California took a lifetime to finish, it’s hard to contend with another border crossing so soon—I was just at Crater Lake. Parents understand the game by now and we promptly found a pizza joint. “Conflicted” joined us and filled the entire conversation per usual (thank God). Two large pizzas and a salad disappeared. Drove to Vancouver, WA for the hotel. Shower and laundry. Parents are glowing but I’m already getting antsy. We did 350 miles in 13 days and I can’t help but feel like I missed something.

Hike On?

NoBo ->

<- SoBo

Justin Kernes 7/8/19 Justin Kernes 7/8/19

PCT 2018: Days 105-106 Cascade Locks and PCT Days

Photos and stories from my thru-hike of the PCT. This post covers days 105-106, Cascade Locks, Oregon and PCT Days.

August 17, Day 105
0 miles [2146.8]

First time in my life I was up at the same time as dad in a hotel room. We went to the continental breakfast and had a nice conversation about winter living, moving, and possible future trails. Went to Multnomah Falls, it was slam-packed—a big tourist attraction—pavement everywhere, and felt busier than Yosemite in late June. Picked up a resupply at Grocery Outlet and Dollar Store. I was fairly stressed, too much coffee didn’t help, and the stores were vibrating with a raucous din. Got the essentials and repackaged. Made a detour by Bonneville hatchery and saw Smart-car-sized sturgeon. Remembered what Rinella said about anadromous and catadromous fish types, something I never would have retained in school. Swung by PCT Days for an hour and a half, there was simultaneously a lot and nothing going on, plenty of expensive gear I shouldn’t buy. Had a pint at Thunder Island and a smoked salmon spread, a reminder that tuna tacos still leave much to be desired. Checked into the hotel and went out for BBQ dinner which was bar none and hands down the best any of us had had in recent memory. Parents bought us our own room tonight. Smoked one and only joint with “Shocks”, then watched Oceans 11 and Rush Hour until well past hiker midnight. Anxiety into alleviation.

Multnomah Falls during a very busy time of year.

August 18, Day 106
4 miles [2146.8]

Today was a whirlwind of fun, I’m so glad we turned back! Another hotel continental breakfast and good conversation with fam. Packed up and drove back to Bridge of the Gods and our parents walked across with us. It’s always hard to hit the trail after a zero. Warm, humid, and with everything freshly washed, we began hiking. Got about two miles out and received two phone notifications from friends in town. Bruce was visiting and Mitchy had somehow caught up. Sat on the side of the trail fraught with indecision to keep hiking or turn around, I think we were both looking for the other to make the move. I’ll give credit to “Shocks”, we turned back and it was such a monumentally great decision. Hung out with Bruce, got free Alehouse pizza and a $2 PBR with all the other hikers who made it for Trail Days. Saw tons of acquaintances and friends including “Panda”, Darby (who informed me she accepted my offering as “Dirty” for a name), Mitchy, “Conflicted”, “Sticky”, and “Dutchie” who had miraculously received my pen parts and delivered them to me, huzzah. Drank all day, even the brewery was giving out free pints for hikers. Bought a salad and more beer for my last snack of the day. Sunset on the Columbia River was fantastic and I took my camera out until dusk. There must be 500 tents set up on the island. Going to be a hard night of sleep, but no regrets at all. A great ending to a first double-zero.

Sunset over the Columbia River, Cascade Locks.

Hike On?

NoBo ->

<- SoBo

Justin Kernes 6/12/19 Justin Kernes 6/12/19

PCT 2018: Days 60-61, South Lake Tahoe and The 4th of July

Photos and stories from my thru-hike of the PCT. This post covers days 60 and 61 in South Lake Tahoe, mile 1,090.

July 3, Day 60
0 miles [1090.0]

Note to myself (and others): while getting cross faded at 7:30 A.M. feels amazing and bubbly, it will never lead you anywhere photographically. This was the only photo I took that day.

No one was in a rush to get out of their tent. As we packed “Trash Bath” waltzed around and handed out yesterday’s pot cookies. Not long after, “Streak” came back from the store and passed out pounders. It was a fantastic morning. Made tracks to the grocery store for breakfast and a plan. Got a freshly toasted bagel from the bakery section and “Shocks” and I split an entire eight-ounce block of cream cheese. Had coffee for what feels like the first time in weeks. Interneted hard and stressed over the newest map section. Someone discovered there was free food for thru-hikers at a nearby restaurant and it seemed like a worthwhile investigation. At Base Camp Pizza I met “Gula” and “Gabe”, two young guys with a limited break from the Air Force. I made sure to drag my fingers through the bowl my bacon-jalapeno Gouda mac was served in and enjoyed the blissfully idyllic weather shaded by an umbrella I didn’t have to carry or hold. Back to the grocery store where I finally cobbled together a resupply. It cost way too much—$82 for 120 miles. Got a free ride to the Post Office from an Uber driver who took one look at us and pulled over. While buckling he told us he had a friend who hiked the AT, suddenly we were having a conference call in an Impreza. “You’ve already made it, make sure to enjoy your time,” he said, almost as if he had rehearsed this message before. Slapped on the correct postage and said a cheery good riddance to my bear canister which has to be the easiest and most emotionally charged two-and-a-half pounds I’ve ever lost. Even with a fresh resupply I feel lighter on my destroyed shoes. Gang reconvened at the beach for low-key beers. I swam for a total of three minutes, long enough to break up the dirt and grime layer. While the gang sunned themselves I watched a wedding photographer politely haranguing 25 family members into new poses, busting his ass without an assistant to move the monolight, unadulterated Schadenfreude coursed through my buzzed body. As the sun set we hit up McDonald’s for the third time in two days, a haven for last minute snacks and internet. The place was packed with festive high schoolers unable to contain themselves with the impending holiday. Found a good spot to stealth and set up our encampment near the ski resort. Zero’s are legendary with friends. So unbelievably stoked for the 4th.

July 4, Day 61
17.7 miles [1103.2]

Peaceful night behind the residential area. Packed up and retreated to Mickey D’s for breakfast and a hitch out. Didn’t want to eat my trail food so I got two hash browns and two sausage burritos plus a coffee. I probably could have made a valid argument for being awarded the senior discount from the mileage on my knees alone. Tried to hitch for over 45 minutes, my longest attempt so far. I was losing faith and seriously considered walking when a man with clear oval frames sporting a scarf over his tie-dyed dancing bear T-shirt approached us. “Grateful Dad”, father of “Vinyl” (who gave me my trail name), was headed to Grocery Outlet and asked if we needed any help. Beaming, we hopped into his van. “Trash Bath” bought four eight-count boxes of Firecracker Popsicles which were gone by the time we parked at the trailhead. Profusely thanked our sandeled Angel and loaded the new map. “Sticky Fingers” grew up here and had a plan for our day. Must have passed more than 50 other day hikers in the six miles it took to get to Lake Aloha. Set up lunch on top of a 25-foot boulder with a shear drop-off facing the water. I watched all of my friends casually backflip and gainer into a seemingly shallow lake. I thought about the phrase I write in every trail log I’ve signed: 1) go fast 2) commit. It took some encouragement, but upon standing I made good on my axiom. The plunge made my dollar cherry pie all the more sweeter. Hiked on to Gilmore Lake near the base of Mount Tallac. Made camp, devoured a tuna taco, gathered all my layers and alcohol, and scrambled to the top just in time for sunset. A bottle of Fireball was passed around in an attempt to block the unyielding wind as dusk turned into twilight. I counted five distinct firework shows scattered around Lake Tahoe’s rim, the Milky Way silently stealing the show. Survived a fairly treacherous and pitch-black drunken Class 2 scramble down to camp. Forgot about the Ranch—even for just a moment.

Hike On?

NoBo ->

<- SoBo

Justin Kernes 6/11/19 Justin Kernes 6/11/19

PCT 2018: Days 62-65, South Lake Tahoe to Sierra City

Photos and stories from my thru-hike of the PCT. This post covers days 62-65 from South Lake Tahoe to Sierra City, mile 1,090-1,195.

July 5, Day 62
18.9 miles [1122.1]

Slept in as late as possible due to last night’s celebration. Ate a chocolate snack pie to give my sour stomach something to work on while we lounged at camp. Eventually started making slow, unmotivated miles at 9 A.M. Up and over Dick’s Pass which was the only section of “up” for today’s terrain that looked sucky. Easy cruise the rest of the afternoon. Stirred up an appetite for a packet of PopTarts after a few miles. I just took a zero and had an outrageously fun holiday, still I want a vacation. Dare I say I feel bored? Perhaps any day which follows one like yesterday will be a bit bland. I’m so tired of hiking. The five of us took a windy lunch on top of some rocks along Fontanillis Lake. Did a double-ramen cold-soak and had handfuls of Swedish Fish. More lakes and snack breaks which always turn to smoke breaks. Called it quits without even hitting twenty and made camp. Had a small fire to keep away mosquitoes. Didn’t have much to say, probably dehydrated. Chowed down hard on my usual tuna taco and followed it up with a peanut butter and butter, honey, Oreo, and M&M dessert taco. Enjoyed sunset trickling through the dense blanket of trees surrounding our small camp.

July 6, Day 63
24.5 miles [1146.6]

Went to sleep with the expectation today was going to be long. Prayed to the pit toilet gods that Barker Pass trailhead would be freshly stocked with TP. Completely empty. I’m out, hopefully the abundant lamb’s ear will suffice. Rare internet access and a wandering mind informed me Philmont won’t be open for crews this season; the early fires were too dangerous. I’ve been dreading “the one” for the last eight years, the time I’m not there, it happens. Tried not to dwell on things out of my control like potential fire which could consume this trail. Cruised along Alpine Meadows, ate my other chocolate pie and couldn’t help but notice the package design was being quite generous with their product depiction, then into Squaw Valley. Took a smoke break in the top-shack of the Granite Chief lift with “TB” and “Sticky” and fantasized about winter, sizing up all the shreddable sick ski lines. Pushed on to Tinker Knob in the howling wind. Had a brief see-ya-later with “Sticky” who parted ways for Truckee; hopefully we reconvene. A few sectioners passed us by, thoroughly done with their journey and headed for the highway, and gave me a Backpacker’s Pantry—major score. Half mile more to the only “campsite” on the bare ridge. Squeezed into the only tree cover with “River”, who we met back at Kennedy Meadows, and “Blue”, someone I recognize from around Tuolumne area. Shoveled in dinner and found a good spot to watch sunset. Our evening color show was absolutely bonkers. Wildflowers too numerous to document and identify, remarkably all in bloom for what feels like the last month, shimmered in the setting sun. Layers of clouds speckled and streaked the horizon.

Squaw Valley ski lifts, Lake Tahoe in the distance.

July 7, Day 64
22.3 miles [1168.5]

Windy night of sleep. “Trash Bath’s” tarp didn’t fare so well but I think he could sleep through anything except free food. Packed and hauled ass seven miles down to Highway 40 stopping only for a joint at Jerome chair. Word on trail was a free beer to any thru hiker provided by Donner Ski Ranch. The restaurant awarded me a 40 ounce King Cobra (malt beer, what a thirst-quencher) and we made use of the patio. Proceeded to get inebriated which lead me to order a patty melt with fries; I can barely resist the smell of charbroiled burgers sober, I’ll forget how much it cost. I caught a few moments of a World Cup match, enough to remember the USA still sucks at one global sport. “Trashcan” has been struggling with foot pain, I will sometimes notice him rolling out his arches during lunch. Perhaps it’s his slight cauliflower ear or maybe his constant furrowed brow, his very visage all but promises he’s never said “stop”. He’s decided to take a few days off here, the gang is dwindling. Utilized cell coverage and crushed five and a half miles drunk and distracted talking to a few friends in the outside world. It was a lonely and quiet ten more before we set up camp. There was hardly any laughing this afternoon, it seems like “Shocks” barely talks to me anymore. It still feels like he resents me for being here, like nothing has changed. In a weird space for dinner. Tired, done, just try and stay present.

July 8, Day 65
26.9 miles [1195.4]

Hot and emergent midnight poop, it felt absolutely gross. Managed to fall back asleep with relative ease. Sunrise came and we left. “Trash Bath” and I chatted for most of the first ten miles, then he bolted ahead and began running like he always threatens. I think we’re all thoroughly tired of this section. I saw “Shocks” only twice on trail. The other 17 miles were spent alone with me and my racing thoughts. The four of us managed to coalesce under the North Yuba River bridge just before the highway. “Combo” must have been feeling daredevilish; he launched two spectacular 30-foot gainers off of the steep rock outcropping. A rather unexpected and fast-earned hitch cut off a mile of asphalt walking into Sierra City as the sun began to set. Hand-written, sun-bleached signs indicate town is closed on Sunday/Monday’s, I can’t possibly see how that’s a smart business choice even for such a backwoods location. Place is quaint, but it mostly gives off a homely and secluded vibe ranging somewhere between a dilapidated 70’s ski chalet and outdated Chinese restaurant. Fortunately the Post Office is open tomorrow: 10a-2p (reminds me of college administration hours), our resupply and my desperately needed new shoes are in that box. Listened to Jordan Peterson on Joe Rogan’s podcast and he got me ruminating about my current situation with Adam. Lots of nasty and malevolent thoughts. Bad juju. Broke down and got a can of Coke for $1.50. The church has provided a free overnight area, there were already a dozen or so campsites set up in the modestly sized front yard. I laid out my tarp and collapsed. My soles are sore, my calves are tight. No booze and I’m out of weed, stuck in sobriety. Two tuna tacos in hopes of replacing the malcontent with fat and sodium. Hopefully our package shows up tomorrow.

Hike On?

NoBo ->

<- SoBo

Justin Kernes 6/10/19 Justin Kernes 6/10/19

PCT 2018: Days 66-70, Sierra City to Belden

Photos and stories from my thru-hike of the PCT. This post covers days 66-70 from Sierra City to Belden, mile 1,195-1,300.

July 9, Day 66
0 miles [1195.4]

All I wanted was a day off. I got one and instantly regretted it—what a hard day. It started out so nice. I splurged for coffee cake and an Americano at the cafe and ate on the patio with “Conflicted”, who I remembered meeting at lunch in S.L.T., and we talked about the MeatEater podcast. For twenty minutes he schooled me on the finer points of the Pittman-Robertson Act and how hunting drives conservation, how hikers think they’re stewards of the outdoors but really it’s dedicated hunters, taking every opportunity to interrupt himself and me at times to mock rabid social inclusivity in a type of Liberal comedy character. He’s awesome, unlike anyone I’ve ever met. Waited and caffeinated until the Post Office opened—no package. “Trash Bath” and “Combo” hung around patiently but eventually grew weary and bid us a hasty see-ya-later. A small part of me thinks that’s the last time I’ll see either of them, yet I’ve had that thought before and been wrong. We kept checking right up until he, the singular postal worker, closed at 2 P.M.—still no package. Demoralized by the consequences. Adam was visibly stressed and moody, I tried to give him space and chatted with other hikers congregated outside the country store and anxiously watched the day pass. Felt trapped. Tried to forget the time and drank a few pricey tallboys even though my subconscious told me I’m spending too much and it wasn’t going to help in any event. No resupply and with little food in my bag I ordered a “gutbuster” from the deli; a monstrous knife-and-fork burrito bordering on vulgar who’s contents tasted uniformly of everything I had seen exit the kitchen. Braved the free, frigid public shower long enough to turn my surface grime to sludge, I couldn’t hold out long enough to use soap. My towel probably took the brunt of my filth. Sat, sat, sat. Fell into the social media hole. Zeros aren’t fun, Sierra City kinda sucks. Currently it’s well past hiker-midnight, I wish the others around me would stop talking.

July 10, Day 67
20.6 miles [1216.0]

Another rude wake up by the local gang of bullish, squawking Steller’s jays. Began The Wait and saw lots of hikers arrive, many of whom I recognize. “Dingo”, who we met on Day 2; “Twerk”, pink shirt and all; even “Sticky Fingers” caught back up. Sarah and Kevin who have been immobile or asleep the past 48-hours have seemingly beaten their collective food poisoning and are looking much better. Talked with “Clean Turkey” who’s already been here for three whole days waiting for a replacement debit card. Yikes. Apparently she has made friends with the local family of loggers and was given some fresh roasted corn last night. Friendly postal worker Rick (we got to know each other on a first-name basis) had our resupply package. Huzzah. Snapped a hasty photo and laced up my new shoes. Snazzy, fresh, sproingy. Divvied up our food and immediately headed out. Hot. Hilly. Humid. An immediate 3,000 feet of ascent in the first eight miles. Forced myself to snack at Packsaddle campground, Adam cruised by me like the bump on a log that I was. I’m practically invisible to him, it seems. Beleaguered I shuffled up second steep, unrelenting hill, overwhelmed by dark thoughts. Sobbed and kept walking because you can cry and hike, sitting just feels even worse. Pulled myself together before camp. Dinner was our hard-earned gnocchi meal prepared with pepperoni and olive oil. Adam eked out a small smile and we made a few crass jokes, I felt a lot better. A guy in a wide-brim hat and pale blue Columbia PFG rolled into camp, introduced himself as “Tooth Fairy” and ate dinner with us. My calves and Achilles are exceptionally tight, I wonder if that’s the terrain or my new kicks.

My only two-pair of shoes which lasted almost 3,000 miles.

July 11, Day 68
35.0 miles [1251.0]

Better day but I’m certainly not getting my calories correct. Despite this, we absolutely crushed 35 miles! Not only a 30 but five more on top of that; my new longest day by more than six. I remember days in Scouts where ten miles seemed like another solar system away, hell that was a day’s worth of travel. Warmer start which was a nice motivating factor to leave the comfortable confines of my tent. Floated through miles and miles of dense, thick pines and firs covered in woolly moss like chartreuse spring vests. Hardly saw Adam at all, the few times I did he didn’t look happy about anything. Lunch cheered us both up. During a longer downhill section I ran (it’s still not clear to me why people like running). I nearly tripped and I let me knees buckle and sat down instead of hurling ass over pack. Stood from my burning wreckage and took limb inventory and noticed a hunk of skin missing from the knuckle of my thumb. Surprised not to be hurt worse. Note to self: don’t go home on injury. Passed more than 20 hikers, many of whom I saw in Sierra City. Water sources are getting farther apart, I should have filled up under the bridge but we pressed on. Used the last of my water to rehydrate a chicken risotto Backpacker’s Pantry for dinner. Legitimately thirsty but it’s hard to determine the true severity, just like hunger. There’s water a mile or two up trail. Body is sore but it’s nothing new. There’s a shrill whine of mozzies are all around me. Thirsty, just like me.

July 12, Day 69
30.0 miles [1281.0]

Started the day off with an eight-mile hill, the skeeters started even earlier. Just put one in front of the other with Foo Fighters on a loop. At the top of the hill was Lookout Rock—a vista name which must be on the same level of popularity as Main Street—which seemed like a worthwhile snacking point. Ate a few dozen handfuls of fruit snacks and chips and took in the view with AJ, a Day 3 acquaintance and Whitney summit appearance, and “Pilgrim”, someone I’d only seen from a distance. Upon closer inspection it became apparent his sole article of clothing is a bed sheet fashioned somewhere between tunic and toga. A few more miles to Bucks Lake road where Adam and I took a peaceful lunch in full recline. I gave my dusty, gritty footsies a bandanna bath and sat shirtless in reverence of the lack of mosquitoes. He’s in a good mood, it certainly cheered me up. Resupply is Philmont-heavy with items like Mojo bars, Larabars, and even those “Mark”-bars (rice crispy copy), all my rations bring back memories of hiking in the Sangre de Cristos. Elated to get a shirtless mile or so in the evening during that special time when the air temperature dips five degrees in less than five minutes, it was so relaxing I even got a shirtless poop without being attacked. Haven’t had the opportunity to do that since the desert. We busted another 30 which feels great to do, especially after yesterday’s feat. My feet feel sore but a discomfort relative to the amount of distance I’ve covered, Guthook shows just shy of 6,500 feet of elevation gain today alone. Currently we’re perched along the precipice of a massive canyon which is nearly 4,000 feet to the bottom, camp is hella windy. There are a few other hikers I recognize who rearranged their stakes and made as much space as possible. Big Belden hike is coming up, stop looking at the terrain map, it won’t make it any less steep.

July 13, Day 70
21.2 miles [1300.5]

Greeted by gorgeous clouds. Packed and practically fell with the rate of gravity towards Belden. Crossed some railroad tracks and entered “town” which seems like an unfair designation, there can’t be more than 12 people living here. Before I could even set my pack down, a bald man with a plush raccoon tail clipped to his floral print shorts approached and welcomed me before launching into his practiced whispered drug spiel like any hardened festival attendee standing outside the venue holding a cryptic sign proclaiming: “Need Tickets”. I’ve been out for almost a week and Adam let me borrow some cash. We followed “Meow Meow” (more alias than trail name) to his van parked in the back of the already dinky-sized town. His van is a converted refrigerator truck, mostly made out of glass, the clean interior reveals three things: a bed, hardwood floors, and a selection of four other raccoon tails. He filled my jar of wax before 10 A.M, problem solved. Had a fairly sketchy highway walk to Caribou Crossroads, by then I was absolutely starving. Patiently waited for biscuits and gravy with eggs and sausage and a famed blackberry milkshake, the reviews of which had been motivating me for the last few days. Ate and chilled with “Pilgrim”, “Tooth Fairy”, and AJ, as well as “RV”, who I now recall meeting a day outside of Tehachapi and have seen a handful of times since then, is finishing his 700-mile section here. As we wished each other well, I saw him with new eyes; a man well into his fifties who spent 40 days doing exactly what he wanted along with the loving support of his wife and eponymous vehicle which drove town to town for aid and care. It was hard to leave the shaded safety of the RV park but it was a smart choice, especially after losing time in Sierra City. “Tooth Fairy” thought it wise as well and joined Adam and me. Brenda, a true local and quite possibly the most badass grandma I’ve ever met, shuttled hikers back to trail, meanwhile with brash authority telling everyone in the vehicle that if her 6-year-old granddaughter can hike out of Belden without complaining, than gosh darn it, so can we. Began the 15-mile, 5,500-foot assault during the muggiest part of the day. A graffitied trail blaze had a poignant message: “either way, it sucks”. At one of the smaller stream crossings there was a waterfall which had carved out a body-sized pool. I stopped only to remove my shoes and waded in, fully submerged, and tried to escape the hill and heat. Finally made it to the top, crossed mile 1,300, and made camp. Rain looks promising in tonight’s clouds but so far I’ve only had sprinkles.

Hike On?

NoBo ->

<- SoBo

Justin Kernes 6/9/19 Justin Kernes 6/9/19

PCT 2018: Days 71-75, Belden to Burney Falls

Photos and stories from my thru-hike of the PCT. This post covers days 71-75 from Belden to Burney Falls, mile 1,300-1,420.

July 14, Day 71
31.8 miles [1331.3]

Today was exhilarating; always say “yes”. Peeped a little of the sunrise through my mesh door. Mobbed another 30 miles and my feet are beat, I generally ache. There was a 15-mile haul between water sources, the few options there were didn’t seem promising. Little Cub spring was 1) off-trail and 2) a gnarly 200-foot decline to access but at least it was ample. Regrouped on trail and ate first lunch with “Tooth Fairy” and “Upstream”. Hit the halfway point but honestly, it felt totally hollow. I remember how motivating the first 100-mile marker was in the desert or seeing the “10%” pile of rocks or getting the clap at Kennedy Meadows, but California is so long, it doesn’t feel like an accomplishment. Either way, we ate second lunch and came up with a plan for Chester, both agreed to go in tomorrow. Continued hiking downhill and wound up at the highway, plans be damned, praying for a hitch as dusk settled in. There was one promising lead for a Trail Angel who provided rides: “John Jacobs, I’ll try to give you a ride if you call me. I’m Chesterite ‘born and raised’”. An animated, fast-talking man soon arrived in a mid-90’s Acura Integra, miraculously the three of us squished our gear and stinky bodies inside. The entire ride into town was filled by John who, in the friendliest and most disarming way possible, told us the horrors of the judicial system, grow laws, and persecution he’s faced and evaded due to his self-proclaimed extensive knowledge of the law. He kindly dropped us off at Pizza Factory where Adam and I split a large garlic and chicken ‘za and a pitcher of domestic. Full and slightly buzzed we packed up and headed for the Lutheran Church to make camp. Upon approaching an intersection with a gas station, there appeared to be a man taking hot-laps around the pumps in a mobility scooter, the tail of his coonskin hat being lifted ever so gently by his modest speed. I looked away as to not draw any attention and crossed the street. Before the three of us had gotten halfway across, the man whizzed towards us, yelling “CITIZEN’S ARREST, CITIZEN’S ARREST” at the top of his lungs. It was 10:58 P.M. My heart was in my throat but after he slurred a few sentences, I realized he was completely hammered and bragging about his scooter—a gift for his infirmed father. “Shame you hikers don’t have beer or weed,'' he mumbled, changing topics drastically. “But at my house we do. Follow me.” He zoomed off into the night, tail following just behind. The three of us stood silently, realized we outnumbered him and had quite literally nothing to lose, and followed him. We ended up in his backyard where he promptly tossed us each a Bud Light and sparked a joint. The mosquitoes feasted on my thin blood but all I could think about was the kindness of strangers and the lengths people go to for camaraderie. He gave us his phone number and emphatically reminded us we had a job (growing related of course) whenever we wanted. I thanked him for his kindness and made one final comment on his savvy scooter purchase before we stumbled to the church. Chester is hella weird.

July 15, Day 72
11.4 miles [1340.7]

I woke up slightly before 5 A.M. with an odd, cold sensation on my face and I heard other tents rustling, then my lucidity arrived. It was beginning to rain, the entire PCT population of the Chester Lutheran church were furiously scrambling to throw on their flys, everyone unprepared from last night’s clear skies and muggy temps. Went to Kopper Kettle with “Conflicted” and “Tooth Fairy” for real breakfast: endless ceramic beige mugs of cheap coffee—a constellation of creamer cups filled the table—with biscuits and gravy. I’m stressed about this section and it seems the majority of hikers are as well. My shirt is toast, it lasted more than a thousand miles and is ripping apart from the shoulders. Dollar General was the only location which served my resupply and, somehow, clothing needs. I got a Hanes “Sport” cotton tee which isn’t a suitable replacement for my long-sleeve but at least my shoulders will be covered. Also my pants are ripped and flapping at the ankles which made walking more exhilarating and tripping more likely, I’ve been rocking my board shorts and boot-cut socks for the last three days. As for food, I scored some decent supplies, namely a small tub of mayo, a bottle of olive oil, and plenty of tuna. Repacked and consolidated in the shade of the church while drinking a Bud. Sewed my hood from the old shirt onto the new shirt and giggled at the result with “Tree Beard” for five solid minutes. Called it a success and cut off the arms as well and stashed them for later reattachment. Said goodbye to “Tooth Fairy” who has completed his remaining California sections and is finished for this season. Had a hard hitch out, but like always, it worked in our favor, there was even a trail angel handing out sodas at the trailhead. Hiked with “Conflicted” who’s neurotic yet undeniably hilarious and fun. I put in a solid hour before stopping to evaporate. As I pulled out my bag of snacks I instantly recognized the bearded guy in a straw trilby was Brett Callaghan, now “Flipper”. A huge, triumphantly-sweaty bearhug later, we acquainted group members and caught up on The Trail So Far. It’s hard to process how a long-time Philmont friend who Adam and I both know is hiking the same trail at the same time. Small world, infinite universe. Adam agreed to spend a few days hiking together but pointed out we hadn’t even made one-third our usual mileage today and our last zero was five days ago. Groups may not travel fast but they provide a morale boost worthy of many extra miles.

July 16, Day 73
30.0 miles [1369.7]

Restful sleep until dawn, then tossed and turned before giving up and getting going. Took a little side trek to Terminal Geyser (not a geyser) and Boiling Springs Lake which was both worthwhile and underwhelming, I wish I could have gotten closer. Received trail magic from “Ham”, a girl on trail who was zeroing with her folks. They gave me a Budweiser and an intensely sweet and juicy fresh peach which is the only fruit I’ve actually fantasized about on trail. Hiked all day with “Flipper’s” trail family and got to know “Froggy”, “Snacks”, “Trash Queen”, “Penguin”. Lots of hot spots before lunch and my feet have fucking blown up, there are massive blisters on both big toes and my arches are knotted and stiff. I’ve taken for granted how nice healthy feet are. Gave them a good scrub in hopes of knocking down the grit, swelling, and heat during lunch at Twin Lakes. I started and ended my experimentation with cold-soaking noodles, after a little over two hours, they took on a bubble-gummy texture similar to fresh Big League Chew except alfredo flavored. Twelve more miles to the next water source, Hat Creek, where we called it quits for the evening and so did quite a few other hikers. There were some nice clouds for a few hours but it was generally hot, I hope I didn’t get burned in my half-shirt-tall-socks-and-shorts combo. Rain will come soon. With “Conflicted” and “Shocks”, dinner was practically a family event. I saw Sarah and Kevin across the river, even “Sticky Fingers” came by to hang out for dessert. Way too much flat terrain, never thought I find myself wishing for hills and altitude.

July 17, Day 74
27.1 miles [1396.8]

Holy cow “Trash Queen” is an early riser, I have to remember to set up farther away. She probably had the right idea since it was hot as balls, dare I say prohibitively hot today. Subway Cave was a point of interest and a small detour took us to an underground lava tube requiring puffys. Against all of our better judgments we smoked out one of the alcoves offending, no doubt, several civilians. “Shocks” needed to go to Old Station for a package, he left after we emerged from the refreshing depths. Made it a few more hours before seeking shelter under a few scraggly pines for lunch. “Froggy” pulled out salami slices and began lathering up a tortilla with mayo, I can’t believe I haven’t done the same thing yet, they will most certainly be on my next resupply. Hat Creek Rim was brutally hot, I was completely unprepared. My calves certainly got burned from wearing shorts, I bounced my umbrella from side to side trying to cover as much bare skin as possible. Water is sparse, if it wasn’t for a maintained cache it would have been a 29 mile carry which seems on the verge of not possible for this stretch. Just when I thought it couldn’t get any hotter, or my water any warmer, we stumbled into an ice chest under a lone tree. It’s funny how your heart rate increases and you pray it’s not full of trash. There were two choices: Coke or Sap, a maple-flavored soda which I grabbed immediately and much to my amazement I had enough restraint for one item though I was reminded Coke is always a superior choice among pops. There was also a bag of Cuties, a fruit which I didn’t know I missed. Tonight’s sunset was the type which people compare other sunsets to and struggle to find the correct, descriptive words but ultimately say “cool” and “colorful” to a point of cliche. Currently laying shirtless on my pad, no quilt, sweatin’ just like everyone else. I’m ready to be done with California.

July 18, Day 75
23.2 miles [1419.0]

I got up and moving around 6:30 A.M., “Flipper” and “Froggy” nowhere to be seen. Busted an easy 13 miles to Burney Mountain Guest Ranch, another 10 before 10. It was shaping up to be another warm one so we hung out for most of the afternoon. Immediately purchased a gigantic pickle and Coke to combat lost electrolytes. Saw Sarah and “Sticky Fingers” lounging in the shade, they confirmed doing a 40 yesterday—gross. Utilized the down time and my recent calf-burns to sew the ripped ankles of my pants, they turned out functional and durable beyond my wildest hopes. Still, there’s about four inches of extra waist-room in these suckers. Gave my socks several rounds in the sink until the water ran a tea color and not Folgers extra dark. “Numbers”, a PCT alumnus I remember meeting back at Hiker Heaven, seemed to be a vague authority and gave hikers a quick tour of the place. Had a cheeseburger for lunch and bought a few sleeves of PopTarts and Oreos from the convenience store to hold me over until Shasta’s resupply. Much to my amazement there was a billiards table, remarkably, a decent one, which was available for use, they trust us dirty hikers way too much. I ran the table all three games I played while waiting for my burger. Left the vortex and made it another ten miles to Burney Falls and hung out while the rest of the gang showed up. Saw an Angel in the parking lot who was trying to meet up with her hiking friend, she offered us watermelon slices and a Gatorade. Took the obligatory side trip to the falls, they were impressively large, it took up nearly my entire field of view. I found by defocusing my eyes, similar to those 3-D repeating pattern optical illusion puzzles, the water seemed to hang in suspension with the always static land whizzing by. It was a trip. Set up at the campground and scored two ramen packets which I cold-soaked for dinner, another meal I don’t have to worry about. Met “Happy Feet” and she did my sleeve, rather, she saw me struggling to find a way to sew my detached arms onto my t-shirt and gave me a quick lesson on a running stitch. It’s odd how I have nothing but time and it took me more than a week to address this issue.

Hike On?

NoBo ->

<- SoBo

Justin Kernes at the northern terminus of the Pacific Crest Trail.

Justin Kernes is a photographer and writer who thrives in the great outdoors.

From 2010-2017, he worked in the backcountry at Philmont Scout Ranch in New Mexico.

In 2018 “Tiny Slice” successfully thru-hiked the Pacific Crest Trail.

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Photos and stories from my thru-hike of the PCT. This post covers day 111, Goat Rocks and my 30th birthday.

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Photoshop Tutorial: How to Edit a Portrait or Headshot Workflow

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August 19, Day 10725.6 miles [2172.4]

August 20, Day 10832.9 miles [2205.3]

August 21, Day 10929.2 miles [2234.5]

August 22, Day 11026.2 miles [2260.7]

Hike On?

August 23, 2018 | Day 11117 miles [2276.7]

Hike On?

August 24, Day 112~19.5 miles [2295.5]

August 25, Day 11328.2 miles [2323.7]

August 26, Day 11423.3 miles [2347.0]

August 27, Day 11523.8 miles [2370.8]

August 28, Day 11623.4 miles [2393.2]

August 29, Day 11710.4 miles [2403.6]

August 30, Day 11824.3 miles [2427.9]

August 31, Day 11922 miles [2449.9]

September 1, Day 12017.3 miles [2464.2]

Hike On?

September 2, Day 12112.4 miles [2476.6]

September 3, Day 12223.6 miles [2500.2]

September 4, Day 12325.4 miles [2525.6]

September 5, Day 12427.2 miles [2551.8]

September 6, Day 125~21 miles [2551.8]

September 7, Day 1266.5 miles [2571.8]

Hike On?

September 8, Day 12727 miles [2598.8]

September 9, Day 12824.7 miles [2622.0]

September 10, Day 129~25.1 miles [2644.3]

September 11, Day 13016.3 miles [2652.6]

Hike On?

July 31, Day 880 miles [1717.7]

August 1, Day 8923.6 miles [1741.3]

August 2 Day 9025.9 miles [1767.2]

August 3, Day 9126.5 miles [1793.7]

August 4, Day 9228.2 miles [1820.9]

Hike On?

August 5, Day 9328.5 miles [1848.4 ]

August 6, Day 9433.8 miles [1882.2]

August 7, Day 9524.9 miles [1907.1]

Hike On?

August 8, Day 9631.2 miles [1938.3]

August 9, Day 9727.5 miles [1965.8]

August 10, Day 9830.1 miles [1995.1]

August 11, Day 999.7 miles [2002.3]

Hike On?

August 12, Day 10030.6 miles [2032.9]

August 13, Day 10131.7 miles [2064.6]

August 14, Day 10232.3 miles [2096.9]

August 15, Day 10321.8 miles [2118.7]

August 16, Day 10428.1 miles [2146.8]

Hike On?

August 17, Day 1050 miles [2146.8]

August 18, Day 1064 miles [2146.8]

Hike On?

July 3, Day 600 miles [1090.0]

July 4, Day 6117.7 miles [1103.2]

Hike On?

July 5, Day 6218.9 miles [1122.1]

July 6, Day 6324.5 miles [1146.6]

July 7, Day 6422.3 miles [1168.5]

July 8, Day 6526.9 miles [1195.4]

Hike On?

July 9, Day 660 miles [1195.4]

July 10, Day 6720.6 miles [1216.0]

July 11, Day 6835.0 miles [1251.0]

July 12, Day 6930.0 miles [1281.0]

July 13, Day 7021.2 miles [1300.5]

Hike On?

July 14, Day 7131.8 miles [1331.3]

July 15, Day 7211.4 miles [1340.7]

July 16, Day 7330.0 miles [1369.7]

July 17, Day 7427.1 miles [1396.8]

July 18, Day 7523.2 miles [1419.0]

Hike On?

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August 19, Day 107
25.6 miles [2172.4]

August 20, Day 108
32.9 miles [2205.3]

August 21, Day 109
29.2 miles [2234.5]

August 22, Day 110
26.2 miles [2260.7]

August 23, 2018 | Day 111
17 miles [2276.7]

August 24, Day 112
~19.5 miles [2295.5]

August 25, Day 113
28.2 miles [2323.7]

August 26, Day 114
23.3 miles [2347.0]

August 27, Day 115
23.8 miles [2370.8]

August 28, Day 116
23.4 miles [2393.2]

August 29, Day 117
10.4 miles [2403.6]

August 30, Day 118
24.3 miles [2427.9]

August 31, Day 119
22 miles [2449.9]

September 1, Day 120
17.3 miles [2464.2]

September 2, Day 121
12.4 miles [2476.6]

September 3, Day 122
23.6 miles [2500.2]

September 4, Day 123
25.4 miles [2525.6]

September 5, Day 124
27.2 miles [2551.8]

September 6, Day 125
~21 miles [2551.8]

September 7, Day 126
6.5 miles [2571.8]

September 8, Day 127
27 miles [2598.8]

September 9, Day 128
24.7 miles [2622.0]

September 10, Day 129
~25.1 miles [2644.3]

September 11, Day 130
16.3 miles [2652.6]

July 31, Day 88
0 miles [1717.7]

August 1, Day 89
23.6 miles [1741.3]

August 2 Day 90
25.9 miles [1767.2]

August 3, Day 91
26.5 miles [1793.7]

August 4, Day 92
28.2 miles [1820.9]

August 5, Day 93
28.5 miles [1848.4 ]

August 6, Day 94
33.8 miles [1882.2]

August 7, Day 95
24.9 miles [1907.1]

August 8, Day 96
31.2 miles [1938.3]

August 9, Day 97
27.5 miles [1965.8]

August 10, Day 98
30.1 miles [1995.1]

August 11, Day 99
9.7 miles [2002.3]

August 12, Day 100
30.6 miles [2032.9]

August 13, Day 101
31.7 miles [2064.6]

August 14, Day 102
32.3 miles [2096.9]

August 15, Day 103
21.8 miles [2118.7]

August 16, Day 104
28.1 miles [2146.8]

August 17, Day 105
0 miles [2146.8]

August 18, Day 106
4 miles [2146.8]

July 3, Day 60
0 miles [1090.0]

July 4, Day 61
17.7 miles [1103.2]

July 5, Day 62
18.9 miles [1122.1]

July 6, Day 63
24.5 miles [1146.6]

July 7, Day 64
22.3 miles [1168.5]

July 8, Day 65
26.9 miles [1195.4]

July 9, Day 66
0 miles [1195.4]

July 10, Day 67
20.6 miles [1216.0]

July 11, Day 68
35.0 miles [1251.0]

July 12, Day 69
30.0 miles [1281.0]

July 13, Day 70
21.2 miles [1300.5]

July 14, Day 71
31.8 miles [1331.3]

July 15, Day 72
11.4 miles [1340.7]

July 16, Day 73
30.0 miles [1369.7]

July 17, Day 74
27.1 miles [1396.8]

July 18, Day 75
23.2 miles [1419.0]