Pacific Crest Trail is an epic trek

Although the Pacific Crest Trail (PCT) was formally established in 1968, it was not until 1980 that Eric Ryback was credited with being the first person to hike the entire length of the trail from Mexico to Canada in one season. Since then, thru-hiking has achieved almost cult status.

Still, according to the PCT Association, more people have climbed Mt. Everest than have successfully completed a thru-hike of the PCT! That statistic can hardly come as a surprise during a year when much of the PCT was buried under snow late into the season. And now that it's drying out, large sections of it are on fire and closed.

Sisters backcountry hiker Paula Berry - known on the trail as "Isabella" - hasn't hiked the entire trail, but she's done most of it. In previous years, she hiked all the Washington PCT, the John Muir Trail and most of the northern California PCT. This year, she decided, it was time to hike Oregon's PCT.

When Ryback completed his pioneering hike more than 30 years ago, he lugged an 80-pound pack over the 2,650-mile trek. Today, technology has considerably changed the sport. Isabella and most of her backpacking contemporaries now carry only a fraction of the weight carried by "old school" backpackers. Plus, now there are trail runners and "yoyo hikers," who reach Canada, then turn around and go back to Mexico.

Isabella encountered some hikers still carrying 35-50 pounds; but, as is typical of most of today's hikers, she averages a 16-pound base weight, exclusive of food and water. Some hikers carry even less. How does she do it? With careful shopping and planning.

"People have different priorities as to where they want their weight," Isabella says. "A few pounds make a huge difference." She says that more weight translates to slower speed. A slower pace necessitates more time and, hence, more food - which slows the hiker even more. "It's a vicious cycle," she says.

Her empty pack weighs only one pound. One luxury is her three-pound yellow tent. Her hiking partner has an identical model, and they are sometimes known on the trail as "The Yellow Tent Girls." She carries a 2.2-pound sleeping bag, the Ten Essentials, an 11-ounce down jacket, a one-ounce windbreaker, and a tiny stove.

For entertainment, she carries crossword puzzles and a pair of dice. In the past, she carried half a paperback book - burning the pages as they were read - and mailed the other half of the book ahead to her next resupply stop. Now she carries a Kindle.

She reports that some hikers even dispense with the stove. One thru-hiker they met was subsisting on dry ramen. Another carried a jar of peanut butter, a honey bear filled with honey, and a loaf of bread. "One gets pretty sick of energy bars, ramen and freeze-dried food out there," she said. "Thru-hikers look forward to Sisters, because it's a chance to get REAL food."

Stops and resupply on these long hikes become an art form in itself, and more frequent resupplies mean less weight to carry in-between. Another feature that early PCT hikers were not able to utilize are today's "trail angels." All up and down the trail, volunteers leave water, food, and treats at various caches along the way. Some trail angels even pick up hikers and bring them to town for major needs such as equipment replacement.

Sometimes, "accidental" trail angels are encountered. On the northern leg of her Oregon PCT journey, Isabella encountered PGE workers near Mt. Hood who gave them surprise rations. "Anything else you need?" one of them asked. "Yeah," Isabella answered, "Do you have any pizza?" They did!

There was, however, one thing that there was no shortage of this year. "Mosquitoes, arrrgh!" Isabella complained. At one spot in southern Oregon, they were so bad that it was difficult to accomplish anything. "It was the worst I've ever seen, and there didn't seem to be any reason for it. We weren't even near water."

The heavy snow and wet spring combined to make this one of the worst years in memory for mosquitoes. The snow itself was a major problem, with miles and miles of buried trail. "We had snow every single day, until we were north of Lolo Pass (near Mt. Hood). Whole areas south of McKenzie Pass were completely buried."

They completely lost the trail about four miles south of Crater Lake. "At one point, we lost all tracks in the snow, too," she said. "We compassed all the way to the highway crossing. That was a little outside our box, but we did things like that this year."

Still, she averaged 16.3 miles per day, occasionally making as much as 20, one day making only nine. On a few occasions, hours were lost searching for the trail. In southern Oregon, near Mt. Thielsen, they abandoned the buried PCT completely and searched out lower-elevation trails that were passable without a GPS. Many other hikers did the same.

In some of the worst snow areas, they teamed up with GPS hikers to find routes. "The Mt. Jefferson area was bad," she said, "but, because of the timing - being later in the season - it was a veritable highway of footprints."

It's not unusual to encounter hikers covering up to 30 miles a day. They met two young men, in the midst of a 49-mile day near Mt. Hood, who planned to hike until 10:30 that night. "They were bummed because it wasn't 50," she said.

Isabella admits that this kind of hiking is an addiction, and "Yes, I'm addicted to it," she said. "The beauty and simplicity of the life are part of the attraction, but I really love the other adventurers I meet on the trail."

You won't see Isabella on our local trails this week. She flew to Maine, where she is knocking off a hundred miles or so on the Appalachian Trail. Next summer, it's more than two months hiking the Pyrenees. She's already brushing up on her Spanish.