By Jackie "Yogi" McDonnell

It’s April 2003, and I’m headed out to the PCT again. I can’t explain why. I just know it’s something I have to do. My friends think I’m crazy. My sisters think I’ve made up this PCT hike to hide the fact that I’m really a contestant on the next “Survivor”. People keep asking me WHY drop everything and go hiking for 5 months AGAIN? I try to explain it, but quickly realize that I’m getting nowhere. Then my friend says, “okay, let me see if I’ve got this right. You can’t wait to leave everything and everybody to go hiking with people who you don’t even know.” Yep. That’s EXACTLY it.

May 1 - 2, 2003-----110 miles. Warner Springs is bustling with thru-hikers. I spend two nights at the resort, lounging in the pools, stuffing myself at the golf course restaurant, and meeting other thru-hikers. There are at least 50 other hikers in “town”. It’s our first real town stop, and everyone is excited. The big topic of conversation is the snow on Fuller Ridge. At the kickoff, Meadow Ed said Fuller Ridge is impassible. We’re all wondering what we’ll find when we get there five days from now.

We’ve only walked 110 miles, but partnerships and groups have already begun to form. I look around at the other hikers here—Gottago, Stretch, The One, Larry, TeaTree, Potato Picker, SoFar, Navigator, Stone, Snake Charmer, Graham, Bap Da, Tikka, Two Legs, Steven, Batteries, Kimber, Cesar, Donnie, Hatchet, Gretzky, Freefall, Special Agent, Garlic Man, Snowman, Gnome, Gooner—and I can’t help but wonder who will make it? Only about 1/3 of the hikers who leave Campo actually see Manning Park. It’s impossible to predict who will and who won’t complete this hike. There are many variables contributing to a successful thru-hike, and physical appearance is not one of them.

May 23 - 24, 2003-----455 miles. Hiker heaven at the Saufley’s!! There are two kinds of hikers here: those who are taking a break from hiking, and those who are recuperating. Donna’s has become the destination for hikers with injuries: Fashion Plate Dan came in with two sprained ankles and then discovered he had giardia. Snowman has been here for two weeks nursing a bad back and infected blisters. Ender hobbled in with a bad foot. Redwood has knee problems. The list goes on.

In the last week, the weather has turned crazy hot. All the talk now is about crossing the Mojave, how much water to carry, and whether to go to Tehachapi or Mojave. And, of course, the conversation eventually turns to the Sierra snow. Nobody really wants to leave Donna’s, but we all know that one day we’ll wake up and the trail will call. It will be time to go.

June 9 - 10, 2003-----697 miles. Kennedy Meadows! Bye, bye SoCal!! We tried so hard to NOT be here this early. I’ve been on the trail 46 days, and 11 of those were zero days. I wanted to leave Kennedy Meadows no earlier than Ray Day. It looks like I’ll leave on June 11 instead. The store deck is crowded with hikers, gear, and food. I’m surprised to see Tin Cup’s smiling face. I thought he was WAY ahead. The Clean Machine have been here for a few days, waiting for their resupply box. Inside that box is their new water filter, and they can’t go on without it. Puck and Belcher look like they’ll be here for a while, too. They left their hiking poles back at Joe & Terrie’s. Hopefully, their poles will get here soon. The Tent Inspectors (Ian, Kingston, Huff-n-Puff) show up. They just got back from a week off-trail visiting someone’s family in San Francisco. Glory is on the move again. That girl has so much energy. She walks out of Kennedy Meadows in the evening with Suge and Sharon. Fashion Plate Dan gives everyone an ice axe lesson. In two days, this is the only time that conversation on the store deck stops. We’re all confident in our abilities—afterall, we’ve just walked SEVEN HUNDRED MILES—but even if we don’t admit it, the snow scares us. Just a little.

June 21 - 22, 2003-----871 miles. Vermilion Valley Resort is a flurry of activity. Twice a day, the boat crosses Lake Edison, and each time it comes back, we all look to see who’s here now. Conversation is non-stop. Kimber tells everyone how Stretch, Coach, Yucca & Kimber, Cupcake, Turtle, Salty & Boy Scout, Craig, Gottago and I glissaded down Forester together and how Stretch kicked steps along the lake and over to the trail. This was Kimber’s first time glissading. Billygoat recounts his story of Mather Pass. As he climbed up the steep snow steps between the first and second switchbacks, one of his legs post-holed and he flipped back, ending with his head upsidedown looking out into space. In true Billygoat form, he didn’t even lose his hat! Gottago relives her harrowing face-plant on the approach to Muir and proudly shows off the huge knot on her forehead. We all wonder how The Clean Machine made it through the Sierra without poles. More importantly, we can’t believe that they did not come to VVR. Through all the talk, one thing stands out: there is now a hardened confidence displayed on everyone’s face. The sense of accomplishment is overwhelming. We know we’re not out of the woods yet, but we now wear a determination that was absent before.

July 10, 2003-----1191 miles. “Come on up to the porch. Leave your pack wherever you like. I’m the new owner, and this is a hiker-friendly store!!” Welcome to Sierra City, CA!! The temperature is well above 100 degrees, and we’re in no hurry to climb up to the Sierra Buttes. Popcorn has been in town for a few weeks. He’s working to earn enough money to finish his trip. Mercury, Garlic Man, Apteryx, The Clean Machine, Walkdad, and Shiver & Dawn Treader showed up this morning. We spend the day sitting on the porch and catching up. You know the drill. The “where is everyone?” conversation. Trippin’ Ant is off for a few days. He thinks he got food poisoning in South Lake Tahoe. Gottago got off at Sonora Pass. She wasn’t having fun anymore. Turtle has a foot problem. Last I heard, he was going to see a doctor. Freefall is north of Belden. He called back to Pooh Corner to warn us of an upcoming Goshawk and hornet attack. It looks like Glory, Suge, and Sharon are still burning up the trail ahead of us.

August 6 - 8, 2003-----1721 miles. Oh my gosh, we’re FINALLY in Oregon! Moments before reaching Highway 99, we spot a cooler full of Hansen’s sodas. This trail magic was left by my good friend Goof (AT’00, PCT’02). Trail magic is rare on the PCT, and this was perfect. Apteryx, The Clean Machine, and I stop at Callahan’s to eat, then we call Goof to drive Apteryx and me into Ashland. The Clean Machine are not going into town; they’re walking on. On the way to the hostel, we see Garlic Man walking to the PO with all his Oregon resupply boxes. I think he’s been in Ashland for 4 days. Trail towns can do that to you. Troll and Laffey Taffey had some great trail magic! A friend purchased sessions at a day spa for both of them. They walked into this spa all grimy and grungy from the trail. After showers, citrus baths, and massages, Apteryx and I found them enjoying a beer at a local bar. I’ve never seen anyone who looked as relaxed as they did. And, boy did they smell good!! Rusted Root shows up at the hostel. I first met Rusted Root at Donna’s back in 2001. Some people just can’t stay away from the PCT. At the outfitter, I run into Tuna & Numbrrs. Tuna tells me how he failed miserably at the pancake challenge in Seiad Valley a few days ago. Tuna says, “I could have done it, but I over-syruped.” Potato Picker returns. I’m surprised to see him, because he’s supposed to be 5 days ahead of me. He’d hitched back to Ashland from Crater Lake. He says he misses his family and is not sure if he’ll stay on the trail. He’s going to visit a friend in Portland and decide what to do. Sadly, I fear he’s done. He just doesn’t have the look in his eye anymore.

August 13, 2003-----1830 miles. They look scared. And I don’t blame them. Reluctantly, they set up a table for 16. We all know what’s about to happen. Goof, Billygoat & Meadow Mary, Troll & Laffey Taffey, Shiver & Dawn Treader, Tuna & Numbrrs, Ajax, Sandsmurf, Bergfisch, Walkdad, Squatch, and I are about to destroy the all-you-can-eat buffet at Crater Lake. Sandsmurf likened the food to dorm food, and he’s right. But we don’t care. It’s not a lipton, and I don’t have to cook it on an alchohol stove. That’s all that matters. I sit across the table from Bergfisch, who inhales three piled-high plates of food. And that’s just the main course. That doesn’t even count his soup, salad, and desserts.

Squatch is working on a documentary about the PCT. He’s been following the pack up the trail, showing up at trail towns to interview hikers about their trail experiences. After dinner, we all go out to the Rim. It’s a GORGEOUS evening. Perfect temperature, not a cloud in the sky, everyone is laughing, smiling, and happy to be here. Squatch interviews us as we stand on the Rim, with the lake and Wizard Island in the background. Laffey Taffey keeps spontaneously bursting into laughter. And it’s contagious. Remember when everyone questioned WHY I would do this again? If I had to pick one moment on the trail to describe why, tonight is the night. There is a magnetic feeling in the air. It’s like our group is one being. The sense of belonging is overwhelming. We’re proud of our accomplishments, and for the first time, I think we all realize that we ARE going to finish. There’s no stopping us now. I sure hope Squatch is able to capture this on film.

August 21, 2003-----1984 miles. The fires have consumed our hikes. Two days ago, two separate fires erupted near Santiam Pass. They grew very quickly, and before long the southern fire had crossed the PCT. When I arrived at McKenzie Pass at 8:30 yesterday morning, the smoke was so thick that I couldn’t even see Mt. Washington. The PCT is closed from McKenzie Pass to Breitenbush Trailhead. That’s about 57 trail miles. Yesterday afternoon, Meadow Mary drove Alistair & Gail and me around the fires to another trailhead. We had to walk 4 miles on a side trail until we met up with the PCT again just north of Russell Creek. Then, we walked a few miles north on the PCT and camped on the ridge above Jefferson Park. We were safely away from the fires, but there was a definite eerie feeling. I was on edge, and didn’t sleep well.

I got to Olallie Lake Resort around 11 this morning. Walked the last mile with Tin Cup, who was the last thru-hiker to make it through before the fires. We were surprised when White Stag and The Clean Machine showed up at Olallie. White Stag had been off-trail visiting family when the fires erupted. The Clean Machine were actually at Santiam Pass as Highway 20 was closed. They watched huge trees go up in flames, and begged a ride from the LAST car to make it through.

On the trail, you usually know who is ahead, who is behind, and by how many miles. These fires have mixed everything up. We have lost track of where everyone is. We’re not sure where people got off or where they’ll get back on. Although thru-hiking is a very free way of life, it is also somewhat structured. Now that the hiking order has been skewed, part of our structure is out of whack.

It feels wrong to be where I am today. Yesterday morning, I was south of Mt. Jefferson, and a few hours later I was north of Mt. Jefferson. I missed 50 trail miles. I kept thinking, “I shouldn’t be here. I didn’t walk here. I didn’t earn this.” In true invincible thru-hiker fashion, Alistair & Gail and I actually considered trying to sneak through the fires. We had our blinders on and all we could see was Canada. Luckily, Meadow Mary looked at us and said, “Are you stupid? Where are your priorities?!?!?” We know we did the right thing. We couldn’t walk the trail. It would have been too dangerous. We skipped the shortest number of miles possible. Although we don’t want to admit it, there ARE more important things than a thru-hike. But, it’s a struggle. My continuous hike has been interrupted. Still, we walk north.

August 25 - 26, 2003-----2150 miles. One more state. Only 508 more miles. Then this trip is over. I remember at the beginning of the hike when I had walked 500 miles. Woo! Hoo! 500 miles! That’s a long way! Now that there are ONLY 500 miles left, it seems so short. I guess time and miles can alter your perspective.

The Clean Machine and I are reunited with Apteryx!! We’d heard he was in Cascade Locks, so we called him from Timberline Lodge a couple days ago. He agreed to wait for us to get here, so we could all walk Washington together. It’s good to have the group back together again.

As The Clean Machine and I walked into Cascade Locks, we ran into Tin Cup in the parking lot of the CharBurger. He was about to take time off to visit his wife again. I caught a glimpse of T-Bone as she walked up to the bridge and out of town. I saw Ian and Huff-n-Puff briefly. They were headed to Portland, I think, for some time off. Kingston came through town with a car. He and Hatchet went up to Seattle for a few days. Ajax is getting off here. He has to go back to his job, but vows to come back to walk Campo to Wrightwood and then Washington so he can complete his PCT hike. Tuna & Numbrrs are taking a couple zeros here so they can hang out with Ajax until he catches his flight home. It’s tough when one of your hiking partners gets off. It leaves an obvious hole in your world. Troll & Laffey Taffey, Shiver & Dawn Treader roll into town. They’re talking 20-mile days for the rest of the trip. I’ll be walking 25’s so I probably won’t see them again. We just missed Steven, Garlic Man, and Mountain House. They all left town the day we got here. Cascade Locks has been a different sort of town stop. We all realize that the end is near, and we may never see each other again. As people leave town, the good-byes seem more final.

September 10 - 11, 2003-----2471 miles. It’s no secret that I HATE the rain. I just get so damned cold. Even though it’s rained ALL DAY, it’s not so bad. I’ve learned that when you can’t change things, you may as well make the best of the situation. So I walk. Sometimes it rains. Sometimes it’s windy and cold. Sometimes I’m IN THE CLOUDS. In the clouds, the whole world is wet. It’s like living in a GIANT mister. I can’t wait to get to Skykomish and dry out. I’m about 5 miles from Stevens Pass. Almost there.

AND THEN . . . . . I round a corner and see a familiar figure walking toward me. Nah, It couldn’t be. That’s not possible. But, it is!!! It’s my buddy Dewey (AT’98, PCT’02). Dewey lives in Seattle. He took the day off, drove up to Stevens Pass and walked out 5 miles in the rain to find me and bring me a Mountain Dew. WOW. That made my day!! Trail friends are the best people in the world.

I’m taking a zero in Skykomish. I just can’t walk out of town in the rain AGAIN. Apteryx and The Clean Machine also take a zero. Long Haul & Choo Choo, Rusted Root, SoFar, and Walkdad all come into town, drenched and freezing cold. This is Washington in September. It’s gonna rain. We’ve gotten used to it. But we don’t have to like it.

I decide to break away from The Clean Machine and Apteryx. This is a hard decision. Leaving my friends is tough. I really enjoy hiking with them. But, they’re in a hurry to finish, and I am not. I need to follow my heart, to hike my hike. I don’t want to finish alone, but that’s a risk I have to take.

September 16 - 17, 2003-----2569 miles. The last town stop. Stehekin, WA. And it’s a GOOD town stop. I get to see so many good friends. I ride the bus into town with Spiderbite and SoFar. As soon as I get off the bus, I see Squatch, Apteryx, and The Clean Machine. I finally meet T-Bone, and I see Glory again. The last time I saw Glory was way back at Kennedy Meadows. She recently took 2 weeks off trail to go to Hawaii. Tikka, Long Haul & Choo Choo come in on the 3pm bus. Tikka is trying to finish the trail while dealing with a bad case of giardia. Long Haul has done something to her hip, or maybe pinched a nerve in her back. It’s very painful. She told me that if she was any place else on the trail, she would get off. But with only 89 miles left, there’s no stopping her. Rusted Root and White Stag tell me about their snowy night near Glacier Peak. The zipper on Rusted Root’s tent was frozen shut, and White Stag had to help him get out of his tent.

We only have 89 more miles, and there is ANOTHER fire. This one is north of Rainy Pass, and it has crossed the PCT. Not again!!! Luckily, there is an established detour around this fire, so our hikes won’t be interrupted again. Unfortunately, the detour requires 16 miles of road-walking on busy Highway 20. Yuck.

September 22, 2003-----2658 miles. The last step is tough. And it’s a step I don’t want to take. One second I’m on the trail, then suddenly my feet are hitting pavement. My hike is over. I turn right and walk .9mile to Manning Park Resort. If this was any other town stop, I’d be walking this .9 mile again tomorrow. To go back to the trail. Not this time.

As is the case in every trail town, the first thing I do is look for other hikers. I don’t have to look far. A familiar smiling face greets me. It’s Rusted Root, sitting in the grass with his beloved pack, Tina Turner. We get a hotel room, then head straight for the restaurant. The hike may be over, but hiker habits still rule our world. Later in the day, Tin Cup, Long Haul & Choo Choo roll in. It feels like any other town stop, but we all know this one is different. We’ve done it. We’ve thru-hiked the Pacific Crest Trail. It’s over. Tomorrow, we go our separate ways. We go home.

But we still have today, and we’re going to enjoy it. We talk about the fire detour, the Stehekin Bakery, and who we think might show up today. We do our laundry, make our phone calls, eat in the restaurant multiple times, and check out the register to see how many days ago our friends were here. But here’s the thing: Garlic Man may have signed the register two days ago, but he’s no longer two days ahead. He’s finished, gone. I just saw Apteryx and The Clean Machine in Stehekin last week. They left Stehekin two days before me, but more than two days separate us now. The Clean Machine went home to Seattle, and Apteryx is on his way home to New Zealand. Glory is no longer a day ahead. She’s finished and will soon be back in Tennessee. It’s a whole new perspective. The hike is over. There’s nobody ahead, nobody behind. Instead, I have friends who got off the trail, some who have finished, and the lucky few who are still out there.

I wonder now: Since my hike is over and I have completed this hike, am I NOW a thru-hiker? OR, since my hike is over and I am off the trail, am I NO LONGER a thru-hiker? Different perspectives. I guess we all have to decide for ourselves.

October 28, 2003. If the weather was good, I would have stayed out there. I had already walked from Mexico to Canada. I could have continued walking north into Canada, or maybe turned around and walked south on the PCT. I could have stayed, but it wouldn’t be the same. There wouldn’t be any other thru-hikers around. I would be alone, and the people are what make a thru-hike the amazing trip that it is. Besides, the rains had come to the northwest, snow was just around the corner, and hiking season was over. Reluctantly, I returned to Kansas City.

Here in this other world, this off-trail world, there are so many choices. Food, clothes, entertainment, etc. It’s very busy. So different from the simplistic thru-hiker lifestyle, from the world where all that really matters is finding the next water source. Re-entry is tough. After every hike, it gets harder. I’ve discovered that the trail is where I belong. Great people, great scenery, great living. My hero Billygoat has walked over 20,000 trail miles. I used to think he was NUTS. Now, I realize that he’s got it all figured out.

When I’m lounging around here at home, I can wear anything I want. I’ve got a closet full of choices. What do I always put on? My smartwool socks and my STEHEKIN sweatshirt. My shirt of choice used to be my 20-year old NEBRASKA sweatshirt. You know the one. Everyone who’s been to college has their favorite soft, worn-out, cotton sweatshirt with their college name on the front. It’s our connection to the time when we felt young and free. We wear it proudly.

Now, I’ve got something new to be proud of. I am no longer defined by my education level or profession. When people ask me what I do, my reply is “I’m a long-distance hiker.” So when I’m stuck here in Kansas City for the winter, unable to be on a long trail, I choose to wear the sweatshirt that connects me to the time when I felt young, free, and invincible. STEHEKIN.

Because if you walked to Stehekin from the Mexican border, you’re something special. There’s something in you that most people don’t have and will never understand. It’s impossible to explain with words. But I know. I can see it in your eyes. You’ve been there. You survived Scissors Crossing, the Mojave, Mather Pass, the food at Red’s Meadow, Kerrick Canyon Creek, Section “O”, the Oregon mosquitos, and the Washington rain. The PCT is a package deal, and you bought the whole thing. You savored the good times and stuck it out when it was tough. I may not know your “real” name, but I do know that we shared a lifetime together one summer and every time I put on that sweatshirt, I’ll think of you.