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.
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.
2,649 to go.
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.
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.
In the movie 180* South, Jeff Johnson, compared these things to the Moai on Easter Island. I chuckled.
Nature is boring. Not! Pictures of just nature can be though. More simply put, this shit doesn't do this shit justice
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.
...on a horse with no name.
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."
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.
I hope I never tire of peeing off of high places.