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I-80 Closed (Storm #1)
Mile 367. Between Rock Springs and Evanston the weather gets snowy. There are a few signs warning that the road is closed at Fort Bridger. I keep driving until an endless line of motionless trucks appears. A few people bail, driving the wrong way down the shoulder until it’s possible to cross to other side.…
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A Road Trip Begins
Mile 0. Pete arrives, having traveled by train from Chicago, in a rented Chevy Malibu. We have ambitious plans to drive to Oregon to commemorate our 1996 Pacific Crest Trail hike, and the pacts associated with it. We really have no idea if the amount of driving we plan is even possible, but we figure…
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PCT Journals Moved
The account of my Pacific Crest Trail hike with my friend Pete in 1996 is now contained in the hobolog. There are a few ways to browse it. The topic links in the sidebar display posts in the default most-recent-first order, but you can also browse all posts from the beginning summary posts from the…
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Day 121
Bridgewater, VA to Gladstone, VA 7465 mi Linda gets up, makes coffee, and graciously allows me to photograph her in her bathrobe as I’ve forgotten to take any pictures here. I try putting some hot coffee in my insulated water bottle, and discover the extremely pleasant sensation of riding through the cold morning while taking…
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Postscript (Pete)
Scott “LETITBE” Williamson. Made it, without Psycho Ken all the way back down to Red’s Meadow by November. A persistent snow storm forced him to prudently abandon his quest there at the gateway to the serious High Sierra. In April of 1997 he set out from Campo alone. His second attempt in as many years…
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Day 93 on (Pete)
The end: Terrain is zipping by at a fantastic rate. By the time I finish recounting the last few days we will have traveled far more than a days walk. Really, it is a testament to our trek that it will take me twenty one hours at sixty five miles an hour in a strait…
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Day 94 on
If you’re curious, our lucky streak continued. After 4 miles we were picked up by Mike and Karen Higgins in one of their two red Mazda RX7’s. These people put us up, loaned us a car, shared their wine, invited us to help create wonderful feasts in the kitchen, gave us rides at 3:30 am,…
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Day 93
It doesn’t take long to reach the border. There are whoops and hollers, hugs, and photographs. Then we are walking again, just like before. Only now we’re headed for the road – to catch a ride.
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Day 92 (Pete)
Dylan remarked this morning that he was experiencing a yo-yo of emotions. Elated and exited to have the trip almost over thus subsiding the agony. Hopeless and despondent about the prospect of leaving this life for “civilization.” I had a dream last night. It took place in my childhood home in Laramie Wyoming. Something, some…
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Day 92
We know this will be the last day before our purposes drastically change. We easily get lost in our own thoughts, linger in nice places, take notice of the daily rituals that are coming to an end. I’ve always admired Pete, but in the past months I’ve seen him grow, wrestle with his past, revel…