(Joanne "Goforth" Lennox thruhiked the PCT in 1999, did 1,700 miles of the PCT with a horse in 2001, thrurode along the Continental Divide from Mexico to Canada in 2002, and then finished the PCT with her horse in 2003, riding through Washington, Oregon, and part of California. The PCT journal for 2001 is at pcthiker.com )

Unlike most equestrians, I had only been riding for a year when I launched off on a second PCT journey with a green horse. Green rider on a green horse: the worst combination I had been told. Yet over the next 3 years I would complete 2 solo Mexico to Canada trips using a single horse both as a mount and as a pack animal. And most importantly, at the end of each season, Hopi Horse and I would return in better condition than we had left, still healthy, sound , and with a little less fat, but no ribs showing.

I have noted that one can learn the basic technical skills for many endeavors (mountain climbing, hiking, painting) in a relatively short time, often in a few weeks. However, the judgement to remain safe, and aware, and to successfully achieve an objective alone, may require 20 years to learn. And mastery or artistry of these skills might take still longer.. I believe that my successful horse journeys were partly as a result of my thruhiking experience, but mostly due to the judgement and outdoor skills that I learned as a successful athlete, climber and hiker.

My 35 year climbing career taught me the importance of training and conditioning, to be constantly aware of safety factors, to be prepared and plan ahead, to realistically evaluate the skills and weaknesses of myself and those around me, to have a strategy for success yet be flexible when unforeseen or adverse conditions were confronted, to evaluate risks and have set points beyond which I was unwilling to go, to put energy into a forward momentum and be able to continue in the face of repeated setbacks, to deal with fear and pain and being alone, to react well in an emergency, to keep a weather eye and know when to get up and get out or to wait for the weather to change, and to be conservative with the available energy, time, strength, and psychological resources to allow a larger margin of safety under more adverse conditions(green horse, green rider).

None of these judgement skills were very effective in dealing with horse traders, acquiring a horse, understanding saddle fit, or dealing with farriers. And horses will always be a mystery to me, along with my 30 year marriage partner, cooking, art, music and love.

Because I did not really know my horse's or my own equestrian strengths or weaknesses, I decided on the following strategies before I ever left home or set foot on the PCT. I would use a single horse and load it very lightly(start small and uncomplicated), the total load weight would not exceed 220 pounds(go light, go far); I would walk the downhill and areas of very rough trail, and I would ride the uphill(downhill jarring beats up the body, especially on a young horse); I would carry 10 pounds of feed per day, and try to graze my horse 4 hours a day (one and half hours in the morning and evening, a hour during the day); I would cut an hour's worth of grass and feed this grass and grain during the night (maintain and conserve energy); I would start slowly and build up to 20-30 miles a day but average about 20 miles a day (go slow, go far; condition slowly); and I would exit or not start from a resupply point if a serious storm was brewing.

I used a psychological strategy that I had developed climbing by myself: when I was frightened, unsure, couldn't make a decision, I would "nibble", and gave myself the option of turning around at any time. I would ask myself a long series of questions in order to evaluate the messages I was giving myself and to find out specifically what was frightening me( most people bail before they ever really come up against an obstacle). Usually the "fear messages" were unfounded, and if the fear was real , I needed to evaluate the obstacle realistically to see if I could deal with it safely. To do this I actually had to develop experience so I would break the task down and do smaller pieces either staying in my comfort zone or expanding it little by little. (I'll just walk North for an overnight to see if Hopi can carry 8 days of food, my trailer is at Cottonwood and I can always come back if it is too much). In effect, I slowed everything down slightly and temporarily; and kept an awarenesss of all possible "outs"(I carried DeLorme maps to give me a larger perspective of the surrounding terrain and roads).

These strategies served me well; we had no mishaps on the trail and Hopi never stepped off the trail, unless there was an underlying hole or the tread gave away under his weight. An experienced horse person had told me that most trail accidents are the result of poor conditioning, and/or poor nutrition. Like a person, a horse will mistep, stumble, stagger, make poor decisions, and get easily scared if it is too tired, hungry, or not conditioned to the task. He will gulp food and choke, eat anything including toxic plants , try to graze on the trail in precarious positions, not watch where he is going, and make poor nutritional choices, if he is too hungry.

I have observed that most superficial injuries show up in the first 100 miles of a long journey. Thus, by Warner springs hikers and horses with poor conditioning and ill fitting shoes, saddles or packs have blisters and rub spots that while superficial can amount to a lot of damage, translate to deeper problems, and stop a trip entirely. The deeper skeletomuscular problems often show up later (200-300 miles): by the I-10 highway crossing at Cabezon or by big Bear (bad knees or gaskins, shinsplints, lameness, back and shoulder problems). These may be harbingers of other problems, and indicate that one has not yet dealt with the cost of a long term trip with this much physical demand. The problems of stress and dealing with the mind are deeper yet and may be lurking in northern California or Oregon.

I started with a 5 year old Saddlebred mare named Cat, and at Warner Springs, I bought Hopi Horse, a 5 year old gelding pinto mutt –who had previously been sold at auction. Later, I would realize I was his fourth owner in four months. For a while, I alternated using them and then laid both off for 3 weeks when I found a small sore on the withers from a poorly constructed custom made saddle (The stirrup leathers were not seated properly). Subsequently, I used only Hopi because he was serious about eating, was more relaxed and that allowed me to relax more. Nevertheless, in the first month I found that Hopi's body language was more subtle than my other horses, that I could get injured and not see it coming or going. It took me a year to be able to respond to his language, and to act immediately if he threatened me in any way(he was very protective of his food).

I made my own packs out of Spectra cloth, a type of Kevlar, which is expensive but lightweight and very strong .. They fit within the length of the saddle so that they would move with the saddle and would not rub on the withers or rump. The saddlebag fit over the cantle and under my seat and the crook of my knee, and the tube like feed bags(each with 10 pounds of feed for a day) were looped over the saddlehorn and felt like a knee roll. I secured each bag at three different points on each side so that they did not flop or move. On the first mount of the day, I sometimes wedged myself into the saddle, but in moments, the contents of the bags would conform to my body and it was a little like sitting in an easy chair. For safety and a quick dismount, the bags are not much higher than the saddlehorn or cantle. After three years of use the pack bags are the consistency of old bed sheeets, but still strong. I have resewn the zippers three times and finally switched from kevlar to polyester thread. Kevlar rope was tried for climbing as well, but the same slickness that made it a light but impractical climbing rope (wouldn't hold knots), made it a poor sewing thread as well.

The packing load mathematics are these: My riding saddle weights 22 pounds; the blankets, halter, bridle, lead and reins weight about 5 pounds; my basic pack and contents weights 18 pounds(raingear, flashlight, first aid kit, titanium pot, alcohol stove and fuel, hat, tarp with stakes, air mattress, tyvek groundcloth, ditty bag with repair and personal hygiene items, fleece jacket and pants, pillow/small thinsulite vest, warm underwear, bug bivy, maps, 1.5 lb. down sleeping bag, hobbles, bell, water purification, 2 water bottles, hoof pick, brush cut in half, highline, collapsible bucket, saw, nose bag for feeding, easy boot). Since I weigh about 135 pounds myself that brings the total basic load weight to 180 pounds (does not include feed or water). This means I can carry 40 pounds of food and feed bringing the total load weight to the maximum 220 lbs. , which is roughly equivalent to 4 days. If I camp where I resuppy, I use up most of the 10 lbs. of feed and food for that day , and that increases my range to 5 days or roughly 100 miles. Later when Hopi was in better shape, I found that I could stuff 2-3 more lbs. into the feed tubes, shorten the pellets to 8 lbs/day, cut more grass, graze more during the day, , beg hay from any horse trailer folk I found, and I could then increase my range to 150-170 miles. I did not use these measures two sections in a row, or I rested Hopi at a coral or trailer with unlimited hay to give him more nutrition in between.(For feed I used equal amounts of beet pulp, alfalfa pellets, and COB. The first thing I did in camp was to start the beet pulp soaking in the collapsible bucket).

Please note that it was difficult to get my basic pack weight down to 18 pounds and it took a lot of experience, and making or modifying most of the gear to do this. But now more then ever before very ligtweight gear is being manufactured and is available. I rarely used the hat, long underwear, bug bivy, tarp, and raingear. I never used the horse first aid kit or easy boot(an emergency measure in case Hopi threw a shoe). Sometimes I carried a cell phone but found it useless for the most part. More often I resorted to asking someone walking out to a trailhead to call and sent a WRITTEN message. These people never failed me.

I used a lot of different resupply methods: I sent packages of supplies to post office, resorts, outfitters, or to individuals that brought them to the trail; People drove my well stocked truck and trailer to trailheads or picked me up ; I also corralled or tied Hopi and hitched to my trailer and drove it back; people brought hay, water, and feed; there were two week long sections where somebody drove my rig forward and met me at specified points. People hosted me "in town"- offered a much needed corral, shower, laundry, resupply, or rest period My journey was dependent on the energy and goodwill of others, often strangers, and it forms an intregal part of the trip. The people that I met are just as much a part of these trips as the mountains and PCT, and the experience of the goodness, devotion, strength, and support of all those persons that helped me was the most valuable of the trip. Giving a belief in the beauty and goodness of humankind can never be repaid.

How does the horse journey compared with a thruhike on the PCT? The hiking journey is definitely more strenuous, but it encompasses much more freedom and much less responsibility. It depends on your disposition, experience, and your horse. I found that I was much less relaxed , and more distracted with Hopi than when I was alone walking. Mostly the logistics of resupply with a horse take a tremendous amount of planning, goodwill, time and energy. With a horse ,options about where to camp or stop are fewer (you need water and grass, and a place to highline).I would spend the first hour in camp taking care of Hopi before ever unpacking my gear. If anything goes wrong,– you can't just get to a trailhead and hitchhike or walk down a steep winding mountainous road. Even if you have somebody and a horse trailer to call, calling is not necessarily very easy . If I was in town, Hopi was frequently in a hot trailer; and shopping became frantic; eating in a restaurant or staying in a motel was out of the question (I was lucky to get a shower and laundry every two weeks). Feed or hay was rarely available, even in most towns with a good grocery store there rarely is a feed store.

But there were magic moments. And there was the wilderness. Much of what I have talked about is the How and the Numbers. A trip such as this does not really consist of that, but of all the unexpected things and small moments that one remembers so clearly and of the large feeling of being out there and trusting yourself and your horse, and going forward together. I can not think of another adventure like it, and I wish you all such memories and a horse like Hopi.

By Joanne Lennox, 2004