First Day Journal Home Gear List Home
Being the extravagent workers we were, the usual lunch group went to dine at McDonald's in the Houston downtown tunnels. The year was 2000 and the world had past the Y2K crisis back in January (was it ever a crisis). I had stopped going to lunch with the group on a regular basis, but I decided to come that day. Nothing different about the day, except the man who hired me, Gene, came across us eating our healthy, appetizing meals and stopped to say hello. No, not just "hello;" Gene sat down with us for a good part of the hour lunch and described the excitement of a 2-week upcoming vacation hiking the Appalachian Trail. Gene described what he knew as I consumed a Big Mac.
The Appalachian Trail didn't register. Had I run across it over the internet and forgotten? Maybe, but I doubt it. This was something new and piqued my interest since I was looking to do something other than road trips for vacations. After lunch and Gene had gone on with his afternoon walk routine, one of the guys said, "The trail is thousands of miles long along the Appalachian Mountains and you end up with a different pair of shoes than you started with." Like a man stranded in the desert, his comments only made me thirst for more knowledge of this long distance trail.
In the days to follow, I read up on the trail and even found some online sites containing hiker's journals of their backpacking trip, or thru-hikes. The first thing which came to mind was how did these people get food for the trail. The questions lead to more searches and finally, answers.
Long distance hiking seemed very plausible, and to do a 2200-mile trail such as the Appalachian in one shot would mean taking a leave-of-abscence or just outright quitting my current job. I knew for sure, one day I would hike this trail!
San Marcos, Texas, about 3 hours from Houston has a very large outlet mall- the biggest to my knowledge- and one of the store was a North Face outlet (no longer open). All these years coming through here, I never knew or cared, but on one visit with some friends, it was the only store I wanted to stop in. All the other stores and restaurants were oblivious.
I was like a kid visiting Disney World! The store had clothes and gears, and for its small size, it still overwhelmed me because this was where the trail began- with the gear. Confused and delighted both at once, I asked myself, "Where do I begin?" Being a true amateur, I examined the most obvious, the backpacks. Luckily, the store was having a sale: an additional 20% off everything including already reduced prices. The backpack which caught my attention was the Spectrum (no longer made) because it could hold the most volume and weighed 6-7 pounds, but what did I know about lightweight gear at the time. The salesperson was very helpful and he had a buddy who was planning on hiking the Appalachian Trail soon.
For $145 (about half price after all the sales discounts), I purchased the Spectrum and a pair of nylon shorts, which were the best shorts purchased to date. This new world of backpacking was just now beginning.
Most of the gear after the backpack and shorts were purchased online, waiting for sales. Saving money by waiting was the beauty of not leaving for the trail just yet. My next purchases would be The North Face Superlight sleeping bag, Therm-a-rest 3/4 Explorer sleeping pad, the Katadyn Pocket water filter, and The North Face Roadrunner 2 tent. The basics were met. Slowly, as sales came along from select online merchants, I was able to purchase other goodies. Also, I also bought such items as hiking socks, first aid kit, mini-tool, and dehydrated food from local outdoor shops.
Maybe I acted too quickly and instinctively on the initial gears. Maybe I should have learned the rules before playing this new game called backpacking. As time wandered on and the dreams of backpacking remained an illusion, I started examining lighter gear options, especially the 5 essentials: backpack, sleeping bag, sleeping pad, water filter, and tent. Whatever I replaced, I could sell the old item online, which is just another beauty of the internet. I replaced the sleeping bag, sleeping pad, backpack, and tent, but decided to keep the water filter because of the amount of water the original ceramic part could filter.
Soon the weight was down, and I started to notice the number of ounces here and there. With enough research and basic math, I felt I was down to a comfortable weight without food and water.
My experience with backpacking had grown, only from a passenger viewpoint: I wasn't quite in the driver's seat yet. By now I had much knowledge of the game, but no professional participation like some sports commentator. The next logical step was to dive into the actual experience; however, with time and reading, I learned about the convivial nature of the Appalachian Trail. There were even tales of parties and drugs at the shelters on weekends. A mention of rape wasn't thrilling either, but then crime can happen anywhere, anytime.
Was the Applachian Trail still in my future? Each week of work was a reason to go out and explore the world. (The work environment and peers were great, but not being able to explore the world made me morbid.) If not the Appalachian Trail, then where could I take a long fanciful escape? An around-the-world trip would be one option. But what if I wanted to hike the backcountry? Was there any alternatives to the Appalachian Trail- a more solitairy trail? The answer was an astounding "Yes!" A longer trail on the west coast of the United States existed and not as many hikers attempt to thru-hike it yearly. A trail with varying temperatures- the desert to the mountains, the dry to the wet. It was called the Pacific Crest Trail or PCT for short.
Like a scholar with a new idea, the answer was in my hands. If I intended to do a somewhat isolated trail, the PCT would definitely be it.
Photographs are only images of a tiny slice of time. Time will move on, whether we want to or not. I've always said, "If we wait for other people or wait too long, our dreams will pass us by. Even though other dreams will come and go." Time did indeed move, but the aspiration to thru-hike the PCT remained, but waned like a the ice caps on a high mountain range during summer.
Eventually, the time was right during the Spring of 2003 to accept the challenge. The desire was not as strong now as it was a couple of years ago. It seemed as though I had a jig-saw puzzle and needed only to join a few more pieces to finish. Recently, I had done some road trips and didn't have the motivation to get back on my feet- the comforts of home were just that, comforts. It would be so nice to stay home and not worry about the hardships of the unknown, but the unknown doesn't always bring distress. If I didn't go, I knew regrets would overcome me like a tornado plowing across the land.
I wasn't known to be much of a planner, doing many things impromptu. What made the soon-to-be hike even easier was I would be going solo and unsupported- no mail drops and all needed gear beyond what I brought would be purchased in towns. How would I get into town I would have to decide when I crossed that bridge. I would only consider sending unused or seldom used equipment and items home instead of trashing or donating them. Indeed, it would be a simple time: This journey would be a lesson in essentials.
For many, a long lonely journey may be some sort of change in lifestyle, or a quest for answers to questions within themselves, or a sabbath from the urban jungle, or just a good time for the more experience hikers, or to fulfill a dream. As for me, it was none of these things, but to fulfill a dream would be the closest guess. Maybe I had nearly woken up and forgotten much of the dream. What was I expecting then from this trek? I do not know. The only catch was I needed to finish by October 1st to be home for my sister's wedding.
A few days later I bought a Greyhound bus ticket to San Diego, about 20 miles west of the trailhead at the very small town of Campo, California, at the US/Mexican border. How would I get to Campo I would have to resolve when I crossed that bridge. I do realize I am very lucky to be able to do this.