April 30 -- Lake Havasu - updated

It was sooooo cold last night. It was snowing lightly when I went to bed. I slept in thermal underwear AND a down jacket, and I was still cold. Needless to say, I didn't sleep that well.

Hot coffee was a necessity when I awoke. I met Terrapin Flyer; her husband, Granite; Trouble; and her husband, The Dude, at Higher Grounds, a local coffee shop in Idyllwild. Once warmed and fortified with caffeine, we drove the twisty-turny road down the mountain to where the PCT crossed the highway. I let them out, snapped a few photos, wished them well, then drove away, effectively ending my trail angel ways. I was headed east toward the Grand Canyon.

Highway 74 led me through the San Jacinto mountains out to the Coachella Valley and into the city of Indian Wells, CA. To call this place posh would be an understatement. When I lived in West Palm Beach, I sometimes wandered onto the island of Palm Beach, an enclave of the super rich. It was always well-manicured and highly refined. Indian Wells makes it look like a dump in comparison. Everything in this place is lush and green. And it's in the middle of a desert!

From there, I drove east on I-10 between the Cottonwood Mountains to the north and the Orocopia Mountains to the south. Once past Joshua Tree National Park, I was in the Mojave Desert. Signs on the interstate warned of overheating. Semi trucks labored up the hills. In the distance, I watched dust storms blow across the desert floor. Tumbleweeds blew across the road. Dirt devils, like small tornados, popped up, swirled around, then disappeared. This is desolate country. Then a green sign announced an exit to the "State Prison," which apparently had no name. A yellow sign under it warned, "Do not pick up hitchhikers" -- as if I would consider it to begin with.

Around noon, I crossed into Arizona. Rather than fly to my destination via interstate highway, I decided to take a detour up to Lake Havasu, which was formed by damming the Colorado River. The lake is long and narrow, running north to south and forms the border between Arizona and California. There are several state parks along its banks. I ultimately landed at Cattail Cove State Park, which is just south of Lake Havasu City. The city is another posh little vacation spot for the wealthy. According to some people I met, the bridge across the lake was brought from England piece by piece and re-assembled. Thus, it was dubbed the London Bridge. No kidding. There is a lavish resort right next to it.

The park I'm in is very nice. Arizona, I understand, is experiencing severe economic depression, and thus many of its state parks have been closed. This one, however, appears to be brand new and is rather upscale as state parks go. It's clean, at least, and the guests are being very quiet, although the campground host is showing a movie at the amphitheatre, which is loud at the moment, but will soon be over.

On my way up here, I stopped in the tiny town of Parker, AZ, because the brakes on my rental car were screaming when I slowed or stopped. I didn't want to be stranded in the desert on a weekend needing car repair. A Ford dealership service person initially told me I might need a brake job, but later discovered that the brakes were just very, very dirty, so he cleaned them (for free), and I was on my way. Nice.

Tomorrow, I am off to the Grand Canyon. No more detours. I should be there mid-day. I can't wait. The locals here tell me that it will be quite cold there. I have been experiencing some weather extremes. It was 75 all day and probably won't dip below 60 tonight. Perfect. We'll see what tomorrow will bring. I'd personally rather be hot than cold, but that's just me.

I'll try to upload photos when I can. It's a rather difficult and time-consuming process. I'll need to do laundry soon. My one outfit is in need of washing, so maybe while I'm waiting for my clothes, I can use the library. Stay tuned.

P.S. Is anybody out there?

Sent from my Verizon Wireless Phone

April 29 -- Idyllwild, CA

It's amazing how a 10-mile hike up and down mountains will make you sleep. I awoke with the dawn and headed north through Joshua Tree, stopping at several places along the way to take short hikes and lots of photos. I tried to upload some of them, but I am at a coffee-shop in town with a 30-minute limit and DSL, so I wasn't able to upload many without technical difficulty.

On my way through the park, a coyote strolled across the road in front of me. That was cool.

From the north end of the park, I headed west again on my way to Idyllwild, where I have been trying to get to pick up some supplies I mailed myself from San Diego. On I-10, I passed a huge wind farm (and they were spinning wildly, as it was exceedingly windy). They were lined in rows, these giant wind mills all over the landscape, generating electricity for the locals. The motors were probably made at Westinghouse in Pensacola, as that is one of the things produced there.

From the interstate, I took a small road south that climbed high up into the mountains. The hair-pin turns were rather scary, and I had to keep telling myself not to look down, although the views I glimpsed were amazing. Around 6000 feet, there was still a little snow on the ground. Not much, but to a girl from Florida, any is interesting. Idyllwild is a cute town, nestled in the mountainside that caters to the hikers every season. Several storefronts had welcome signs just for PCT hikers. Many businesses give substantial discounts to them and go out of their way to be hospitable. I know the hikers are grateful and happy to be out of the elements, if only for a little while.

While collecting my box from the post office, I met Terrapin and offered her and some of her crew a ride to the trail head in the morning. From there, I then drove to the trail head to offer a ride into town (it's a 15-mile hitch) to whomever might want one, but no one showed up in the hour that I sat there. Oh, well.

It was nearly dusk by the time I got back to Idyllwild, and it was sprinkling and very cold (low 50's at least). I found a spot at the state park campground and set up shop. I had a wonderfully hot shower, though it got chilly once the water turned off. Still, I like being clean and fresh.

After making some hot chocolate with my alcohol stove, I wandered over to the hiker/biker camp and talked to No Teeth and another guy whose name I didn't catch. They are PCT hikers. I asked them about the peeps I started with, but they had not heard of them. I had read the hiker register at the post office and didn't recognize any of the people who had signed it, so my peeps must not be here yet. Oh, well. I hope they are doing well.

As I was talking to the two guys, it started snowing ever so lightly. Just tiny little flakes drifting down. It was getting progressively colder, so I retired to my sleeping bag and went to sleep. Tomorrow I will take the hikers I met to the trail head and then be on my way to the Grand Canyon. Arizona, here I come!

April 28 -- Joshua Tree National Park

The wind howled all night last night, keeping me awake. Sometime early in the morning it subsided for awhile, and I was able to get a little sleep. I was up by 6 am and out of the campground by 6:30. Fortunately, there was a restaurant open in Borrego Springs, so I was able to get coffee and a bagel before I hit the road.

I drove east to the Salton Sea, then headed north. At the northern tip of the Sea, I took a small county road through farm land full of corn, potatoes, citrus, and grapes. The road then wound its way through a beautiful canyon, and I emerged just south of the southern entrance to Josua Tree National Park. As was the case just west of Borrego Springs, the hills were alive with the color of spring blooms in the desert. So many different types of vegetation were blooming. It is very pretty.

I arrived at the campground at 9:30 am and quickly set off on a 10-mile round-trip trail that ran from the campground to a palm oasis, like the one I hiked at Anza-Borrego. It was absolutely gorgeous. I can't wait to post the pics from the trail. The weather here is much cooler than Anza, so it was a pleasant hike. The sun is setting now, and it's getting quite chilly. I think the ranger said it will be in the mid- to upper 40's tonight. Quite the change from last night.

I guess since I didn't get much sleep last night, I'm totally wasted. I can't wait to crawl into my sleeping bag and rest, especially since I'm cold now. Wind is not an issue, at least not right now, so I hope I will be able to sleep.

Tomorrow, I'm going to see more sights in Joshue Tree, then head back west to Idyllwild. There are only two campgrounds that have water in this park. I'm at one now, though there are no showers. Bummer. The campgrounds I would need to stay in tomorrow night would not have any water, and I'm just not in the mood for that, so I will head to Idyllwild. From there, I'm not sure. I'll have to decide tomorrow where I'm headed next. Stay tuned.

Sent from my Verizon Wireless Phone

April 27 -- Still in Anza-Borrego

Jan, my most wonderful host in San Diego, drove over to hike with me today. She has been section-hiking a trail that runs from the ocean to the Salton Sea and needed to hike a 7-mile section near where I've been staying, so we hiked together today. It was a fabulous hike. The hills were alive with color. And we saw two jack rabbits. They are BIG bunnies!

After our hike, Jan and I stopped at a water cache provided for the PCT hikers. This section of the trail is notoriously devoid of natural water sources, so kind souls bring in boxes and boxes of bottled water. This hiker community is truly exceptional. Jan then took a hiker into Julian, where I went yesterday with two others. I went the opposite direction, back to Anza-Borrego State Park. I had intended to hike a trail at the park yesterday, but got back too late, so I returned to hike that trail. It began at the campground and went a mile and a half into a canyon. At its end was a waterfall and a copse of really large palm trees. It was truly an oasis in the desert. Just lovely. Fortunately, the sky had clouded over for this hike, as it was 100 degrees when I arrived, according to the park ranger at the gate. On the hike, I saw a really pretty blue and green lizard, then near the end I saw my first rattlesnake. It was poised on a rock to the side of the trail and rattled at me when I walked by. It scared the wits out of me.

Since my second hike of the day ended around 5:30 pm, I decided to stay at the campground another night. I made dinner, such as it was, and took a shower, which felt wonderful. I actually had to pay to shower, but it was worth every penny! I'm now ready for bed, hoping the wind will die down soon. The sky has clouded over, and it's supposed to rain, but I hope it doesn't. I guess I can always jump in the car if it gets too bad.

Tomorrow, I'm off to Warner Springs, where some of my hiking peeps should be, and then to Idyllwild to pick up a package I mailed myself for the hike. From there, I may head to Joshua Tree National Park. Stay tuned to see if I actually make it there tomorrow.

Sent from my Verizon Wireless Phone

April 26 -- Anza-Borrego State Park

I typed this post out last night and sent it off, but it's lost out in the desert somewhere and never got posted, so I'll try again.

I left San Diego early in the morning in the fog, heading east toward the mountains. I thought I had lost my way, so I stopped in for coffee and directions, and waited awhile for the fog to lift. When I hit the road again, I was treated to spectacular views of the lush green landscape. I soon dropped down into the valley and buzzed through small towns on my way to the desert. Everything here is so manicured and clean!

Up and over the mountains I went, along twisty-turny roads that I'm not used to traveling in a car. Hair-pin turns around solid rocks with nasty vertical cliffs on the other side. It was fun driving, but sometimes scary. Absolutely everything is in bloom here, so I have been treated to some wonderful scenery. I expected the desert to be brown and dusty and dry. It is, in fact, dusty and dry, but it is alive with color. I am typing this from a library computer in Borrego Springs, so I'm not sure I will be able to upload my photos, but I'll try.

Once I was up and over the mountains, I descended onto the desert floor. Whereas I had left San Diego in the fog at around 65 degrees, it was now 95 degrees at 11:30 am, and there is not a speck of moisture in the air. I began chugging quarts of water to keep hydrated and can hardly keep up.

The Anza-Borrego State Park, where I stayed last night, is on the desert floor and was broiling when I got there, so I went into town -- into air-conditioned stores -- and hung out for awhile. Since it was too hot to go hiking in the middle of the day, I drove 20 miles or so to where the PCT crosses the roadway and befriended two hikers by taking them to Julian about 12 miles away. They were ever so grateful.

Julian is no bigger than a minute, with one main street. On that street, however, is Mom's bakery, notorious for the best pies in the world. The bakery, which is also a restaurant, treated me, Crow Dog, and Swope to a free lunch because we were hikers. Thus, I had a most magnificent chicken pot pie, a root beer, and a slice of apple pie. It was to die for! No kidding!

After lunch, I drove the two guys back to the trail and ran into Elderly Ellen and Yeahbut. I thought that I would never see them again after dropping them off at Mount Laguna, but there they were -- hot and tired and smelly. We chatted for awhile, then I drove back to Borrego Springs to the campground. By the time I got there, the wind was howling. I managed to set up my tent, but when I laid down, the wind was buffeting it so much that I knew I would never get to sleep, so I yanked up the tent (otherwise, it would have blown away without me in it) and stuffed it in the car. I tried to sleep in the front passenger seat, but that was uncomfortable. About 10 pm, the wind subsided, so I set up my tent again and went to sleep. It was still stifling hot.

April 25 -- An exceptional day

Despite the cold, I slept reasonably well. I didn't particularly want to get out of my sleeping bag, but I told four hikers that I would drive them 20 miles up the road to where they had left the trail to join the kickoff. I had met them at Scout's and Frodo's, and was happy to shuttle them around. However, when I went to start the car, the battery was dead. Oy. Fortunately, there were hundreds of people there, some with cars, so I managed to locate someone with jumper cables and got my car started.

As we left the campground and drove up into the mountains, we began to encounter snow on the ground around 4000 feet. At 5000+ feet, there was a 1-2" coating on the ground. It was strange to see snow in the desert, but there it was. I dropped of Elderly Ellen and her husband, Yeahbut, as well as Pete and Lani, a father/daughter team. Lani had shaved her head at the kickoff and donated her hair. I imagine her head will be cold, even with a hat.

I drove through the mountains for awhile, stopping periodically to take photos, then re-connected with the interstate and headed back to Jan's house in San Diego. Jan had invited me to an all-girls luncheon. Included at the luncheon were Frodo; June Mulford, the woman who gave the slide-show presentation about her horseback ride along the trail; one of Frodo's and Jan's neighbors, who also hosts hikers; a past thru-hiker who is now a Yale master's student and who will be thru-hiking the Continental Divide Trail this summer; and a woman who thru-hiked the PCT last year, whose journal I read religiously last year. It was a truly wonderful experience talking with these women. I enjoyed it immensely.

After lunch, I exchanged my car for another (hopefully with a better battery), so I can set out tomorrow on my National Park journey. I might be out of touch for awhile, unless I have better cell service than I think I will. Stay tuned, my friends.

April 24 -- The kickoff party

I slept in for a change -- 6:30 am -- and had breakfast with Jan and her husband, Jim, before they left for the kickoff party at Lake Morena. If I haven't said so previously, Jan has hiked the entire PCT in sections over many years. Jim is a geologist and an accomplished mountaineer and has climbed Denali and McKinley (I think) and other great mountains. He has also done deep-sea exploration. They are both extremely fascinating people.

Around 10:30, I headed to the airport to pick up a couple from Buffalo, NY. They have each attempted the trail once or twice already and met on the trail last year. They are back once again to thru-hike together. After a stop at the Evil Empire and McDonald's (also an EE in my opinion), we arrived at the campground around 1 pm. It was wall-to-wall people --some very colorful. Long-distance hikers are an interesting breed. I walked around and talked to people I had met (and some I hadn't). There was a lot of nervous excitement in the air. There are presentations throughout the day on bears and fires and such things, but I didn't attend any. Instead, I watched the gear contest, which was entertaining. People come up with crazy ideas about how to use common items for multi-purposes. Some are practical; others are absurd. Like I said, long-distance hikers are an interesting breed of people.

After the gear contest, hikers from a previous year hosted dinner. Since I had helped Jan make the brownies, I supervised the dessert table, making sure no one took more than one, since there were about 600 people at this event. Following dinner, Ryan and I had a nice conversation. It was somewhat existential. He wasn't particularly excited about hiking out the next day. Having been on a bicycle for 3 months, he wasn't thrilled to live in the woods for another 5 months. We talked about the concepts of happiness and contentment, and how one attempts to achieve those within themselves. He's hiked the Appalachian Trail, so we talked about what it means to complete such a grand goal. I'm really impressed by his maturity and intellect. I hope he enjoys his hike and has a wonderful life thereafter.

As the sun set, it began to get cold -- really cold. With the lake nearby, it was a moist cold, leaving your clothes damp. At 7:30 pm, many of us gathered at a make-shift theater in a clearing. There was a slide-show presentation by a woman who, along with her husband, was the first to complete the entire trail by horse -- in 1959. Very few even knew the trail existed, so she and her husband shot a 90-minute film, as well, and distributed it to movie theaters around the Pacific Northwest. They even appeared on the Art Linkletter show. For some reason, their accomplishment has been largely ignored by those immersed in the culture of the trail, so Scout is on a campaign to give the couple their historical due.

Following the slide-show presentation, we watched an incredible National Geographic special on the PCT that was shot last year. It featured some of the people at the kick-off. It hasn't been released yet, and should air on public television in August or September. Nat Geo gave the Pacific Crest Trail Association an advance copy, which we saw last night. It was, by all accounts, somewhat over-dramatized, but it was otherwise very well done. The photography was spectacular, as one would expect from National Geographic. I enjoyed watching it, but froze to death while doing so. After it was over, I quickly scrambled into my tent and sleeping bag. Someone said it was in the mid-40s, but it felt colder.

I had a really, really good day. I have met some truly wonderful people, and I am enjoying being a part of this whole thru-hiker experience, even if I'm ultimately not going to hike this year.

April 23 -- Day 6 -- My trail angel wings

There has to be a special place in heaven for people like Jan, Scout, and Frodo (and other trail angels). I can't begin to tell you how much they do (and how much money they spend!) transitioning hikers to the trail. It's just incredible. And now I'm officially one of them, though merely an apprentice.

At 6 am, I took Ryan and a bloke from England, who was aptly dubbed the Mad Hatter, to the trail. Hatter talked a blue streak, but he was rather interesting. He's been working in the Middle East for many years repairing commercial GPS equipment. He had also lived in the Philippines for awhile and had tales from that adventure, as well. He had spent the last two years traveling the US, looking for a place to settle. He decided to build a home in Oregon, I believe he said. So he's walking home from here. He was rather intense, but it made the 75- minute drive fly by.

We traveled through snow at 4000 feet, and it was cold at the trail head, but it was already turning into a beautiful day. The rain was gone, and the sky was clear. It was absolutely gorgeous. I bid Ryan farewell at the border and was a bit sad. I'm still struggling emotionally with my decision not to hike the trail. There was so much excitement and nervous energy from the herd of hikers leaving. They all seemed so thrilled to be there, and looked forward to the many hardships they would encounter along the way. It will be interesting to follow their journals this summer and see how they fare.

The Mad Hatter wanted to go to Lake Morena campground and start his hike on Sunday morning, so I drove him there and checked in with the kickoff organizers. It's a very large park, but was already filling up with people. Tents of every size, shape, and color dotted the landscape. There would soon be many, many more. I walked around most of the day, running into people I had met at Scout's and Frodo's. All were doing well, but had tales to tell from the last two days of hellish weather. Again, I struggled emotionally for most of the day, feeling disconnected from the hikers, since I was no longer one of them. I'm still sorting out my emotions from all of this and can't say that I've found peace with it yet. Everything is a trade-off. I didn't want to be alone on the trail, but I'm going off alone to drive around the country. In exchange, I get the security of a vehicle and the luxuries of running water and flush toilets at campgrounds or motels. Hopefully, I will meet some friendly, interesting people along the way. I think this is the best decision, but I will struggle with it for awhile.

Around 5 pm, I drove back to San Diego to pick up another hiker at the airport. He had contacted Scout and Frodo at the last minute, and they were not able to help him, because they would be at the kickoff, so I volunteered to shuttle him out to the kickoff. He was a young personal trainer from Dallas, who was in between jobs, which made it a good time to hike from Mexico to Canada. After stops at two stores for provisions, I dropped him off at Lake Morena at dark and drove back to San Diego to stay with Jan (and her husband, Jim). I had left that morning at 5 am and didn't get back until 9 pm. I had been driving for four hours, so I was exhausted, and went straight to bed. Tomorrow should be an interesting and busy day, as well.

April 22 -- Day 5 -- Becoming a trail angel

Since hikers who are staying at Scout's and Frodo's leave for the trail at 6 am sharp, I awoke at 5 am to help with breakfast. When Jan returned from the trail head around 9, she and I and Brittney (a hiker leaving tomorrow) went to Jan's church kitchen and made 24 pans of brownies for the kickoff party. It took us about 3 hours. Sadly, we didn't get to eat any and had to ride around in the car all day with them in the back, torturing us with the smell of rich, warm chocolate. Not fair!

From there, Jan and I dropped Brittney off at the zoo, then headed to AAA to pick up maps I will need for my new great adventure out west. From there, we were headed to Costco when Ryan (with whom I bicycled) called from the train station. He had made plans to stay with a "friend," but couldn't get in touch with the friend and needed a place to stay for the night and a ride out to the trail tomorrow. Since there is NOTHING these people won't do to assist hikers, Jan volunteered to pick him up and give him a spot on her floor for the night. It was good to see Ryan again, since I hadn't seen him since leaving Hempstead, TX. He is such a cool guy!!

Since we were downtown near the airport, we tried to pick up my rental car early, but they wouldn't give it to me. Oy. It was late afternoon, and there was much more to be done, so we raced home to prepare part of dinner, which would be held at Scout's and Frodo's (where else?). We would be feeding 30 people. Ryan and I got the unenviable chore of cutting the brownies, which we were not allowed to sample. Okay, maybe I snuck a crumb, but don't tell Jan.

Just before dinner, Three Gallon and Cucumber Boy offered to take me to get my car on their way to pick up hikers at the airport. On my way back, Scout called: "Can you come to the rescue and pick up a stranded, homeless hiker at the airport?" Apparently, this guy had flown in with no plans. Imagine that. Three Gallon and Cucumber Boy had seen him and talked to him, but didn't have room in their car to take him, so Scout called me. San Diego is an enormous city with a maze of freeways running every which way. "Only if you can tell me how to turn around and get back on the freeway without ending up in Mexico," I replied. And so I spun around on the freeway during rush hour and headed to the airport. The SD airport is probably the easiest, least-confusing airport I've ever navigated. Miami is an absolute nightmare, but this was a breeze. Thank goodness.

I did, however, manage to take a wrong turn and ended up going south on the freeway, instead of north, but I quickly recovered, and we were back on our way. We then scurried back to Scout's and Frodo's, where I sucked down some dinner they had kindly saved for me, then I was off to the airport again to pick up two hikers that I had previously agreed to shuttle. After a run to the store for them to stock up for the weekend, I went back to Scout's and Frodo's and picked up another group and took them to REI, which is a major outdoor gear retailer. After that, I collapsed into my bed. I will be taking a group to the trail in the morning, so I need my beauty rest.

April 21 - Day 4 - Still in San Diego

I spent the day at Scout's and Frodo's house, helping them with all the myriad of chores needed with a house full of people constantly in motion. It rained most of the day, and I was glad not to be out in it. When Scout came back from dropping off a new group of hikers at the border, he said it was snowing along the interstate out of town at 4000 feet and also at the trail head. Another couple who came to help Scout and Frodo shuttle people around said it was also snowing in Julian, which is about 75 miles north of the trail head. Which means that it's snowing in places that don't normally get snow, particularly this time of year. The rain is supposed to last all night and into tomorrow. There should be more snow, too. Obviously, the temperature has dropped substantially. The kickoff party at the Lake Morena campground should be a chilly affair. Thank God I bought a zero-degree down bag. It's going to keep me toasty.

I've done a lot of soul-searching today. My dream of thru-hiking the PCT died somewhere along the way here or on the trail. I'm trying to figure out why and how. I suspect it's just fear that is blocking my path, but I can't seem to overcome it. I've talked to a lot of people about it, particularly past female hikers like Nitro and Cucumber Boy (yes, that's a girl). They have been very Zen about it all: "If you're not feeling it, then don't do it. It will only be miserable and cause you pain."

So, here's my plan: Tomorrow, I will rent a car in San Diego. I will use it for the next 4 days to shuttle hikers to and from the trail, either from San Diego or from Lake Morena. Undoubtedly, there will be hikers on the trail who want to come off or be shuttled into a nearby town to re-group because of the weather. Thus, I will become a trail angel for the next few days. After that, I'm going to travel around California, Arizona, and Utah. I haven't been out to this side of the continent since my early 20's, and even then didn't spend time looking around. So I'm going to visit all of the national parks, like Joshua Tree, Death Valley, Sequoia, and Yosemite in California; the Grand Canyon in Arizona; and Zion, Bryce, Canyonlands, and Arches in Utah. It should take me three or four weeks. Then I will fly home. After that, who knows. Probably back to work. We shall see.

I hope you all will stay with me and follow along. I'm going to go to some awesome places. I will be hiking and seeing some amazing things. I will post photos when I can.

April 20 - Day 3 - Back in San Diego

With a storm coming, I decided to ride back into San Diego with Jan, who had just dropped off another set of hikers at the border. I hung out for the day at Scout's and Frodo's house. A father/daughter duo, who had hiked from the border into Lake Morena, came back with me to ride out the storm, too. The rain began about 4 pm.

I finally sat down with Scout and had a long talk about my trip, my expectations, etc. I cannot say that my time on the trail was "not what I expected." It was exactly what I expected. However, I have become overwhelmed with the prospect of hiking this trail alone. Yes, there are other people on the trail. Yes, they are very friendly. Yes, I can walk with them some and share breaks with them, and even camp in their general vicinity if I want. But ultimately I have to make every decision and perform every task by myself. There will be no one to help me. To say that the logistics of this trip are daunting is an understatement. While finding water on the trail is rather easy right now, it will become exceedingly difficult. There will be 20 to 30 mile stretches of trail without any water source. Rationing water will become necessary throughout the day. It is one of many stressful events associated with this hike.

I knew I would be hiking alone. I even talked about it with several people. I thought it would make life easier, since I wouldn't have to keep pace with anyone else or make compromises, etc. I could hike when I wanted, how far I wanted, and stop whenever and wherever I wanted. Which all sounds good from the comfort and security of one's home, or sitting around a familiar restaurant table with friends. Now that I'm here, it's terrifying. Truly. The degree of isolation is overwhelming. While on the trail, I was out in the middle of absolutely nowhere. While there were dozens of hikers on the same section of trail with me, as time passes, we will all spread out, and there will be fewer and fewer people around. I'm a generally self-confident person, but now that I'm experiencing this, I've become extremely insecure.

So what am I going to do? Don't know yet. I'm really struggling with this. I've lost confidence in myself. I do not believe that I can successfully thru-hike the PCT. I realize I was on the trail only a day and a half, but it was an eye-opening day and a half. It was enough to get the general idea of what the next 2,630 miles would be like. I'm going to hang out in San Diego for a day or two and help Scout and Frodo transition dozens of hikers onto the trail. The PCT kick-off party will be Thursday through Sunday at Lake Morena campground. I will make a decision by this weekend about what I'm going to do. I had started a week early to acclimate, so I have time to hang out and re-group. Meanwhile, I'm having fun at Scout and Frodo's meeting all the hikers -- past and present. I've done so much research and read so many trail journals that I recognize many past hikers by name, so it's nice to put a face to a name. It's been a very interesting experience so far.

Well, enough for now, we're about to have dinner. People are pouring into the house. There should be 17 people here for dinner. Tomorrow will be 25. It's busy, but fun.

April 19 -- Day 2 -- Hauser Creek to Lake Morena campground

When I awoke, still filthy from the previous day of sweating and hiking in the dusty desert, I packed up all my wet gear, sucked down another bagel and some Carnation Instant Breakfast, and filtered several liters of water from the stream. The last thing I wanted to do was shoulder my pack and take off. Everything hurt -- my shoulders, my hips, my legs, and my feet. Lake Morena was only 4.5 miles away, but the first 3.5 miles were all uphill. The altitude was toying with me, too. I couldn't quite fill my lungs and catch my breath.

The trail was narrow and rocky and treacherous at times. I trudged like an old woman as my muscles begged me to stop. I didn't, because I wanted to reach the campground. I had to reach the campground. I had no other choice.

All who had camped at the creek were soon out of sight, and I hiked alone again. My thoughts and emotions were wreaking havoc in my head. I trudged along highly discouraged, contemplating my options. I kept telling myself, "You knew this would be hard. You knew you would suffer. Deal with it." But I didn't want to suffer. I didn't want to live through days and weeks and months of pain and distress. "But it will get better," my inner voice would say. Really, when? How many days of agony will I suffer before it becomes easy to hike up and down mountains all day long? What do I do until then? How to I handle the pain and discomfort until then? "You just do," says the voice. Why? Why would I do that to myself when I don't have to? And thoughts of a car trip through the state competed in my head. "You don't have to do this," was a recurring thought. "You can if you want, but you don't have to." My doubts grew exponentially as I hiked.

About two miles from the campground, I came across a day hiker out geocaching. He warned me that he had seen four rattlesnakes on the trial that morning, one with ten rattles. I thanked him for warning me and set off through the snake minefield, hyper-sensitive to any sound of a baby rattle attached to a venomous snake with fangs, poised to strike as I strode by. I never saw one, but knew they were around somewhere, watching me.

I made it to the campground around 11 am and found Deb in a campsite. Jan was there, too, waiting for me -- worried about me. Deb made me a veggie burger, and I felt instantly better. Not ALL BETTER, but better. I took a shower, too. And that was nirvana. I was clean. I like clean. Visions of car camping at campgrounds with showers filled my mind. Once again, I discovered that I was married to the luxuries of life -- like hot running water. It's hard for me to be filthy for days. I learned that on the bike trip. I was hoping I could deal with it.

I hung out at the campground all day, chatting with Deb, and others who were hanging out. We talked about my pack and my doubts and my pain and suffering. Lon (Halfmile), who has thru-hiked the PCT before, showed up around 6. He brought with him a weather report that was quite ominous. Rain was coming. So was snow in the higher elevations (which we would be at soon). The temps would drop by 15 to 20 degrees. Not pleasant.

I had hoped that Halfmile would pick through everything in my pack and help me eliminate things I absolutely did not need in an effort to lighten my pack. But he didn't. He gave me a few suggestions, but that was about it. One of his suggestions was to ditch my tent for a poncho that I could string up and sleep under. It sounded extremist, but I know other people do it. I just don't like mosquitoes biting me all night, and ants crawling all over me while I sleep. I thanked him for considering my situation, then I went to bed. I laid there, again, contemplating my options. I was filled with self-doubt and highly discouraged. I did NOT want to get up in the morning, put on my heavy pack and trudge off up the trail with a storm coming.

April 18 - Day 1 -- Campo to Hauser Creek

When I awoke at 5 am, Frodo was already in the kitchen baking us pumpkin muffins and cooking eggs. Jan arrived shortly thereafter with steel-cut oatmeal. We filled our bellies and piled into two SUV's. There were 11 of us leaving for the trail head. I was very, very nervous. Did I say I was nervous? Nay, I was terrified. The whole hour and change out to the trail head, I was thinking, "Oh shit, what have I gotten myself into?" The terrain is so foreign to me. Mountains and rocks and desert stuff. We steadily climbed to 3000 feet. I wondered how I was going to do this -- any of this. I have been planning this trip for over ten years, and now here I was. But it's one thing to sit in your living room and plan to do something. It's entirely different to experience something first-hand. No matter how much one has planned, it's never quite what you expect.

We piled out of the car at the trail head, which is a few feet from the US/Mexican border. It is in a very remote part of the state. The nearest "town," Campo, is barely that. We would soon walk by it, but not stop. We had all we thought we would need.

As soon as I shouldered my pack, I knew I was in trouble. Serious trouble. My pack was now loaded with food and water, and it was entirely too heavy to carry comfortably for any distance at all. The trail is not a wide, flat, level path. It is, in fact, rather narrow, rocky at times, or washed out, or overgrown with brush. And it undulates. At times, it is barely 12 inches wide with a sheer drop on one side. One slip and down the mountain side you go with only the boulders to stop your slide.

It got warm quickly. I was wearing long pants and a long sleeve shirt to block the sun, which will burn me to a crisp if I'm not careful. I began sweating like a . . . girl in the desert wearing long pants and a long-sleeve shirt. I had four liters of water and began to consume it with a vengeance. I would, over the course of the day, consume around 8 liters, filtering half from a stream.

The group I started with soon left me behind, and I walked alone most of the day. I would occasionally run into one or two of them when they took a break, but by the time I caught up to them, they were ready to take off again, so I took breaks alone, as well. By mile 10, I was pretty discouraged. Everything hurt -- badly. I had already plastered my feet with duct tape to forestall oncoming blisters. Fortunately, I had Jan's phone number (one of my hosts in SD), so I called her from the trail (yes, I had cell service!). She hooked me up with Lon and Deb, who are experienced hikers and who were camping at Lake Morena campground at mile 20.5 from the border. I hoped they would be able to help me minimize the weight in my pack and help me sort out my emotions. I just had to make it to them.

Somehow, I managed to make it to Hauser Creek at mile 16. I left the border at 7:50 am. I made it to Hauser Creek around 6 pm. I had been hiking all day. I was absolutely wasted. And rain was moving in. I managed to suck down a bagel and get my tent set up before dark. Not long after, the rain began. It wasn't much, just enough to be a nuisance really, but wet is wet. I was glad to be in a tent, but my body had payed the price for carrying it all day. I took 3 ibuprofen and called it a day. I soon discovered my air mattress had a hole in it, and my sore hips soon found the ground. I would not sleep well because of it.

In fact, I laid there most of the night wondering what I was going to do. I absolutely could not continue hiking with my pack as heavy as it was. If Lon and Deb couldn't help me, then I was contemplating bailing on the whole trip. I was also having a hard time hiking alone. There were quite a few people camping at Hauser Creek, but most were couples, and I was alone. I was overwhelmed to the extreme. I didn't know how I was going to manage this trip. I laid there thinking that I could go back to SD, rent a car, and tour all the fabulous state and national parks in California, Arizona, and southern Utah -- places I've never been, but have always wanted to go. It was a tempting thought as I drifted off to sleep.

April 17 -- Almost ready to go

I made myself stay up late last night because of the time change. I didn't want to be up at 4 am with nothing to do. I actually slept until 5:30 am here, which is 7:30 am at home. That's late for me. It felt good. I was up in time to see the Kiwis off. I hope I meet them again on the trail. They are very interesting. Love the accent!

I actually had a hard time going to sleep last night. I was so far from home. I missed my babies and my home and everything else I know well. I pondered the enormity of what I am about to undertake. I was very emotional. I finally fell asleep, telling myself that I could ponder it in the morning. I then slept well.

I spent the day food shopping for the next six days. My next resupply will be in Julian, which is 79 miles up the trail. I bought too much food. I will suffer from the weight of it until I eat it. I hope I will want to eat. People tell me I won't want to for awhile, until my body adjusts to the altitude and air and physical exertion. We'll see.

I'm sad to say that my pack is too heavy. I've got it loaded with food and water now, and it weighs a ton. Too much. I will suffer until I figure out how to minimize the weight and distribute it properly. These next few weeks will be very, very hard as I acclimate. Try to prop me up. I will need it.

Shortly, I will be enjoying homemade Indian food that several us prepared, along with Scout and Frodo. It looks and smells delicious. It will probably be the most healthy food I will eat for quite awhile. At least until I get to a decent-sized town.

As you can see, I've added a slide show feature to the blog site. You can click on the photos and see them larger. I won't be able to add photos until I get to a computer and upload them from my camera, so be patient. I may post a few photos into the blog with photos I will have taken with my phone, but the bulk of my photos will be taken with my new camera, which I can't share without a computer.

I leave for the trail tomorrow morning at 6 am PDT. Jan will be taking 11 of us. Scout told me that it was 43 degree at the trail head this morning when he dropped off the Kiwis, but it probably warmed up quickly. Someone mentioned rain moving in, but I haven't seen the weather report lately. Hopefully, it won't be torrential.

Okay, peeps. I might be out of touch for awhile. Hard to say. I will post when I can. If I haven't posted, it means I don't have service. Just hang tight. I'll get back to you. Wish me luck!

April 16 -- I'm in San Diego!

To Newell: I'm safe and sound at Scout and Frodo's house in San Diego. You can stop reading now, especially since this is going to be a fairly long post. I've had an exciting day.

To everyone else: As one might imagine, I didn't sleep well last night. Not only was I nervous/excited, but I went to the gym last night and didn't have a spa to relax in afterwards, since I had drained it, so my muscles were protesting during the night. Something to look forward to in the upcoming days/weeks/months.

I spent the morning trying to remember to do every last little thing before I flew to the other side of the continent and left everything I know and love. It was really hard to leave. My children knew I was leaving and were very clingy. They seemed sad, too. I will worry about them endlessly, and I miss them already.

My mom took me to the airport and waited with me until it was nearly time to go. I haven't flown in a really long time, so I dreaded the whole check-in and security process, with visions of them breaking open my box and rummaging through all my stuff, but it was really a breeze. I walked right up to the counter, handed the woman my e-ticket, and that was it. There were only four people in line at the scanners, so that went quickly, too, and I wasn't singled out for a body cavity search or anything else. It's still creepy to take off one's shoes. That's just gross, walking around on the carpet where other people have been walking without shoes with God knows what foot cooties.

Anyway, the flight to Houston was relatively quick, but on a small aircraft. We took off and followed the bay, then along the coast. Since I was seated by a window, I followed the roads we took on the bike trip -- all the way to Dauphin Island. That was cool. Like I said, I hadn't been in a plane in awhile and had forgotten just how small our barrier islands really are in such a vast body of water. We followed the coast all the way to Texas, before heading inland to Houston.

I had planned to eat in Houston, but my first leg was a little late, so I had only five minutes to run from one terminal to the other and hop on my next leg, so I didn't get to eat. It was a three hour flight. The plane was big and completely full. I had the joy of sitting next to a woman with a two year old. Her husband was in the seat in front of her with a four month old. There was another young child behind us. However, the one next to me decided to have not one, but two, full-blown temper tantrums, with piercing screams. The mother and father just sat there and let her cry. It was incredible. Between tantrums, I did manage a nap, which was good, but I was starving by the time I got to San Diego.

As soon as I grabbed my box off the conveyor, Frodo (Sandy) pulled up in her Prius and drove me to her house. It's a very large home near La Jolla, which is a very nice area. Scout (Barney) is an attorney. Staying here tonight are a Canadian couple, three Kiwis, and two girls from Israel. Aside from our hosts, I'm the only American here! Scout and Frodo have just totally opened their home -- snacks everywhere-- and have given me a bedroom. So I get to sleep in a bed tonight!!

One of their neighbors, Jan, who has also hiked the trail (in sections), brought over a fabulous dinner for all -- salmon, vegetables, bread, and apple crisp. It was delicious. I'm now ready for bed, even though it's only 8 pm here. I'm still on Central time, so I might turn in soon.

Tomorrow, I'm going to shop for food and put the finishing touches on my provisions. Scout or Frodo is going to drive me to the trail Sunday morning at 6 am. So tomorrow will be something of a rest day. The Kiwis are leaving tomorrow, but others are coming in. Everyone is so interesting! This is going to be a wonderful experience.

My next adventure

Hi, everyone. Welcome back. Did you miss me?

For Newell (who just wants to know where I am and that I'm okay): I'm still safe at home on my couch in my living room. You can stop reading now. I'm fine.

For everyone else: I have been ever so busy preparing for my PCT hike. But before I talk about all that, how about an update on my peeps from the bike trip? As you might recall, Carol and Rosie left the group in Opelousas, TX. They made it nearly to El Paso, TX, before Carol fell ill with asthma-type symptoms. They went home on March 14. She has planted her summer garden and is recuperating. Mike ended his journey, as well, on March 24, in Alpine, TX. He is back home in NY, looking for a job that he hopes will take him to distant places. Ryan and Bryan made it to San Diego on April 11. Good job, guys!! Bryan will be starting graduate school in August. And I will see Ryan at the PCT kickoff party next week. Finally, Jeff is still traveling through California, in no rush to reach the coast.

I can't believe it's been nearly six weeks since I came home from the bike trip. Time flies! I've been preparing for the hike and working on projects around the house now that Spring has finally sprung. Although I miss the people I work with, I've enjoyed the time off from work. It's been a much-needed rest.

I leave tomorrow for San Diego -- on a plane. I don't like flying much, so I'm not looking forward to the trip, but I'm excited about getting to California. There is a couple in S.D. who hiked the PCT in 2007. They were befriended by so many wonderful people that they have decided to pay that kindness forward by hosting hikers. They will pick me (and others) up from the airport and take me back to their home, where I will stay with other hikers until Sunday morning, when they will take us all to the trail head, which is about an hour and a half east of S.D. near a small town called Campo (try to find it on a map). The trail begins literally at the border between the US and Mexico. The government has erected a tall metal fence, so I won't be able to actually cross into Mexico, but I will begin my journey on the border. I can't wait!!!

Just so you know -- for all those who are addicted to reading my blog everyday -- I absolutely will not be able to post every day. I will be in the wilderness most of the time. I previous years' hiker has actually made a list of places along the trail that did (or did not) have good cell service with my carrier, so that will be helpful. But there will be many days where there will be none. Try not to worry. I'll post as soon as I can. My mom will have high priority (of course), which means that I will find a way to contact her by voice as close to daily as possible, so if you're beside yourself with worry, call her; she'll be the first to know.

Okay, it's late (for me) and I'm off to bed. Don't know when I'll get to sleep in a bed again. Might be awhile. I hope I have a restful nights' sleep. It's going to be a whirlwind next few days.