Running fever

I have no aspirations to run a marathon. Running for 26.2 miles seems like a painful endeavor, even when I watch Adrian sail through the finish line all smiles. I enjoy watching marathoners, so I was looking forward to Adrian's participation in the P.F. Chang's Rock n' Roll Marathon in Phoenix this past weekend. We walked through the expo in downtown Phoenix to pick up his race packet and checkout the vendors.

Somewhere around the registration table, Adrian turned to me and asked, "So, are you going to sign up for the half?" He's talking about the half-marathon, which would mean running for 13 miles.

Maybe it was the free shots of Cytomax or the thousands of giddy participants parading around the expo. Whatever it was, I found myself signing up for the half marathon within 15 minutes of Adrian's question.

Long story short, I did OK. Considering that I have never run more than eight miles in a single stretch, I did fantastic. My time was 2 hours and 31 minutes. Adrian ran the marathon in 3 hours 39 minutes. Clearly, he is the runner in the family.

Time to run

It's been about nine weeks since we finished hiking the Pacific Crest Trail. I've used that time to do a little running in an attempt to stay in shape. Adrian has taken "a little running" to another level.

Adrian participated today in the Tucson Marathon and ran the 26.2-mile distance in 3 hours 19 minutes. That's 15 minutes better than his last marathon in Appleton, Wis.

Here's where it gets good. This is one of two "training" runs for a 50-mile run he's wants to try in March.

I don't get it. We hiked the same trail. All 2,663 miles. I can run maybe 5 miles in a stretch. Adrian is running marathons.

If you could do it all over again ...

We've been asked a lot of 'What would you change/do differently?' questions from future thru-hikers, friends and family since our return from the Pacific Crest Trail.

And what better way to address this semi-constant question then through our blog. The question varies a bit, but the root is the same: Would you do anything differently if you were to hike the Pacific Crest Trail again?

1.) Go lighter. This is easier said than done. We already had pretty light packs - 11- to 12-pound base weight - but I think there were a couple of items that could have stayed home.

2.) More cowboy camping. Our tarp tent would still be with us throughout the trail. I would have packed some Tyvek as a ground cloth and camped underneath the stars more often.

3.) Cathole preparedness. I have come to the conclusion that a trowel is essential, especially north of the desert. The ground is rooty, rocky and harder north of Kennedy Meadows General Store, mile 700ish.

4.) A few more food drops. We SHOULD HAVE shipped to Snoqualmie Pass, White Pass and Skykomish in Washington. I will have a post listing all of our food and data drops soon. Just be sure to add the ones I listed above, especially Snoqualmie. Super overpriced food.

5.) To bounce or not to bounce? Our bounce bucket, which held extra first-aid stuff, batteries, vitamins etc., etc., was incredibly helpful in the beginning. It lost its usefulness somewhere in Oregon and I should have shipped it home from Ashland, Ore.

6.) The first day. We had way too much crap with us for the first 100 miles to Warner Springs section. I would only carry enough food to get to Mount Laguna General Store. The store had plenty of food and good variety.

Voting for vagabonds

It can be tough voting if you've been in the woods for five months. Think of all of those hundreds of stories about Obama, McCain and even Hilary earlier this summer that we missed. How can I possibly make an educated decision about the candidates?
When I reentered society I thought, should I start from the beginning? Or simply pick up today's newspaper and forget about any relevant news stories that came out this summer?

As a journalist and news junkie I went back. But I seriously doubt if this is typical vagabond behavior. For one, it's not really realistic. Who has that much time? Oh yeah, I do.

During my search of the political archives, I stumbled upon these news gems. I know I am much more informed about issues now that I've read stories about Las Vegas strippers dressing up like Palin and how numberology proves that Obama is not the anti-Christ.

This is what happens when presidential hopefuls kick off their campaigns 20 months before the actual election. The news hole must be filled!

In celebration of Election Day - the first one in 10 years that I haven't been working as a reporter - I have posted a few more fun and weird political stories.

• Focus on Family Action pulling a video from its Web Site that asked people to pray for rain "of biblical proportions" during the Democratic convention
  
  
• New york Daily News hires a Palin look-alike to walk the street of NYC
  
  
• Venezuelan President Hugo Chavez offers talks with "black man" in the White House

I also would be remiss to not offer up some interesting political stories from my friend, blogger and reporter Rob Mentzer. Here's his blog: http://amillionmonkeys.blogspot.com/

Or go to his pre-election links on his blog at the Wausau Daily Herald, his day job.

Finally, this has nothing to do with the presidential election, but any political ad that compares a candidate to R. Kelly is brilliant.

Here are some other odd political ads. And by odd, I mean really bad.

It's a wrap! Sort of

It's been six weeks since we finished the Pacific Crest Trail, so I guess it's over. It's no longer appropriate to camp in my mother-in-law's yard.

Our vagabonding ways must come to an end.

And hey, what better time to be out there looking for a job, right? It's not as if there's an economic meltdown occurring.

On second thought ... Maybe now is not the time to stop roaming. Maybe it's just the beginning for us.

We should probably wrap up our Pacific Crest Trail stuff before I start talking about a new adventure. I received a number of e-mails or comments from people who followed our trail journal or blog. There were lots of questions about the trail. I'll answer them as best I can over the next few days. Each post will try and address a different question so people can focus on one subject at a time or skip it all together.

For example, I got a lot of questions about pooping, which is sort of odd because it's pretty straightforward. But hey, I'm here to help, so keep your eyes on the blog for a post on pooping in the wild.

September 25, 2008 Pacific Crest Trail

Destination: Manning Park Lodge, B.C.
Miles: 15

Adrian: We've finished the Pacific Crest National Scenic Trail! It's over. Done. Complete.

Last night it rained the hardest it has the whole trip. On and off, it came down all night. Fortunately, we were camped on nice grass (there were mule deer grazing around us for part of the night), with a good incline and natural trenching for proper drainage. Because the site was perfect, we were perfectly dry. The morning dawned partly cloudy and the sun came out for the 7-mile hike to the border. Camped nearby were Caterpillar, Landshark, and Jesse. Hoffa and Clearwater were ahead about 3 miles and would wait for us to finish together according to plan.

As we worked our way to the monument, the pine forest gave way to a thin strip of clear-cut signaling the border. We stepped off trail and there it was below us, the northern terminus of the PCT. I tried to take a picture but the camera took a crapper. No worries though, Hoffa has a camera that uses the same memory card.

A few more switchbacks and we were there. The group whooped and yelled with the excitement that only long distance hikers can at the end of a journey. We drank some whiskey and popped open the mini champagne bottles our family sent us. Jesse had a cigar and Jack Daniels and a few party poppers. As Doc would say, "a good time was had by all".

The last 8 miles to the road went quick and we dispatched the last 1,000 foot climb in style...effortlessly.

Just before reaching the road, nature demanded I spend a minute off trail. After finishing that business, I heard my Mom yelling congrats. I sped along the last 100 meters and the saw her, Tanya, Cormac and the two girls. Hoffa's mom and dad were there too. I thought I might cry at the end but I was too happy for that. How nice it was to have family at the end...thanks you guys! We opened a Perrier-Jouet bottle of champagne Tanya treated us, Jesse, Hoffa, Caterpillar, Landshark. Hiker heaven!

Thanks for following our journal. It's been a great trip and I hope you've enjoyed the journey as much as we have. We'll be posting a few more entries in the next couple days to record our final thoughts, do some gear reviews and give some advice for prospective through-hikers. I'll also give updates at months 6 and 12 to document re-entry into real life after the hike.

I'm sad this adventure has come to an end, but they all must sooner or later, however, new ones are already brewing on the horizon.

Kirsten: So it ends. Just like that - coming down a switchback - the PCT and my five-month adventure is over. As we approached the northern terminus and our friends started their celebratory whoops, I exhaled. That's what I mustered, one long breath. I welled up and almost cried. I tried to think of something really profound. Nothing materialized and I never broke down into a weeping, hugging mass with Adrian and our friends. I stood and breathed.

The atmosphere swirling around me was decidedly euphoric. I stood there for a minute and let the nearly simultaneous waves of joy, fear and relief wash over me. Finally the cheering and laughter snapped me back and I joined the group in photos and toasts. I can't say whether a thru-hiker should finish alone or with friends. Maybe I would have been more emotional if I had been on my own. I sort of think my reaction would have been the same regardless of who was or wasn't there.

Any cerebral moments were immediately cut short when Adrian trotted back to the group sans clothing and only bright neon orange briefs and a matching sweatband. This was the end-of-the-border outfit my brother Rob and his girlfriend, Natalie, sent us. I received a white unitard and orange sweatband. Classy.

When we finally packed up our things and made it the eight miles to Manning Park, our family was there waiting for us. Adrian's mom, sister, her husband and their two children were at the trailhead - champagne and treats in tow - along with Hoffa's parents. This was overwhelming and I was relieved to have Clearwater and Jesse around to share some of the familial limelight.

It's going to take me a few days before I realize what I did. It's an accomplishment for sure. At least that's what everyone keeps telling me. I don't really feel successful though. Certificates and awards would seem silly and out of place at this moment.

If you want to talk about achievements and success, it was the moment I left what was safe and secure and took my first step on the PCT. If I had quit after that first day I wouldn't have felt like a total failure. It was in that moment of true risk - not bungee jumping risk - I mean leaving-what-you-know- and-trying something-that-you-will- most-likely-fail-at-risk, when I tasted freedom for the first time in my life.

In that moment the PCT didn't seem so impossible anymore. Nothing did.

September 24, 2008 Pacific Crest Trail

Destination: Hopkins Lake, Pasayten Wilderness
Miles: 26.3

Adrian: Marathon day! Rainy today.

Kirsten: We camped last night on our own and ended up spending the entire day alone as well. As much as I like our friends, it seemed fitting for today to be more solitary. Hiking as a group is usually a lot of fun, but I've found I need a break every few days. This is an odd development for me because I tend to be pretty social back in the non-trail world. I've developed a protectiveness lately over my time alone on the trail, which I can't really explain. I think it may be related to how free I feel when it's just Adrian and me. There are no group discussions on where to camp etc., we stop and rest, eat and camp when we happen upon the perfect moment or spot. Anyway, it was good to be alone and then run into Landshark, Caterpillar and Jesse at our intended camp. Tomorrow we'll finish together.

The weather couldn't seem to decide what it wanted to do changing from snow to partly cloudy skies to a spitting rain throughout the day. We've been blessed with good weather throughout Washington and so I can't really complain now. Well I can. I'm going to try not to.

I am struggling to pinpoint exactly how I feel with only one day remaining. For one of the few times in my life, I am at a loss for words. This trail has become my life. And my life these days is about walking, eating and sleeping. Oh, and many hours of thinking. You might think I spent a lot of time mulling the world's problems around in my mind. It would be far more accurate to say I spent a lot of time thinking about food and my past. The strangest memories would suddenly hit me and then I'd spend the rest of the morning or afternoon reminiscing about that moment. I thought a lot about my grandmother, Mama, who died in 2002. This was a long time ago, I know. Still, from time-to-time she would slip into my thoughts and I'd find myself bringing her up-to-date on the day. I had many horrific and tragic daydreams as well picturing something happening to Adrian or one of my siblings or in many cases, to myself. What would I do? How would I feel? Would I crawl under the warm blanket of depression or would I rise above it and somehow do something brilliant to help myself and other family survive the loss?

I rarely had control over what I thought about on any given day. Actually it would be more accurate to say, I gave up trying to control what popped into my head somewhere in the first 200 miles. Tomorrow should be interesting. God, who knows what will be swimming around up in my noggin in those last few miles.