0 to 100

I started my first journal entry with "I finally escaped the sounds of man. " Then a motorcycle farting along in the distance reminded me I'm not John Muir.

Below are some thoughts and photos collected from the first 100 miles. 

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I touched the wall and peered through a hole to Mexico before heading north - protocol. Two miles later I realized I didn't sign the log book. 

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 "Before"

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2,649 to go.

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I slept my first night in a valley with three older dudes: Bob with a miracle white beard and type II diabetes, Louise, a loud snorer who quit the next day and Acorn, a trail buddy whose been keeping at the same pace as me this first leg. 

 

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The triple sock solution —whenever you feel a hot spot, swap out your socks. Clean the dirty pair and hang it on your pack. Put the previous pair that was drying away and put on the cleanest set. 

 

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In the movie 180* South, Jeff Johnson, compared these things to the Moai on Easter Island. I chuckled.  

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Nature is boring. Not! Pictures of just nature can be though. More simply put, this shit doesn't do this shit justice

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Walked in to find lake Morena sucked dry by San Diego. "The lands yours, the waters ours." You can't have my disappointment, but my lack of surprise is yours. 

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 ...on a horse with no name. 

 

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Cooked and took a nap in Billy Goats cave. I met Permit Princess and Mr. Sandals while hiding from the mid day heat. They really want to give me the trail name "Caveman." 


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David — traveler, raver, carnie, seen on TV salesman. Hiking for charity. Camped with him at mile 88. Light snorer. Liked living in Cincinnati - live music. I want to give him the trail name "hard lucky," but have yet to catch back up with him. 

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I hope I never tire of peeing off of high places.