Author: Chris DiFranco

Well, last night was quite frankly was the second longest night since we have been out here. The 35 mph winds just completely battered me all night long. 7 laughed multiple times as his freestanding Durston tent ate it like a champ.

The combination of wet ground, small stakes and just relentless winds all night long I think I re pitched my tent three times. One thing that’s become clear my sleep on this trail is going to suffer. At least initially.

A positive though throughout the night each time I would get out of my tent I would look at the moon, although we missed the lunar eclipse due to the bad weather the night before. The moon tonight is still super bright. It’s felt like a full moon for 10 days now.

I wake up at 6:30 before the sunrise and start my day with a scenic breakfast. 7 hears me rummaging around like a Mouse and decides to join me. It’s F’n go time.

Today’s plan is to camp a little past Warner Springs. I have about 17 miles to get there and it’s looking good. A steep climb to start the day and then all down hill through Warner Springs Meadow. I pass by the 100 mile marker and get even more stoked. It only took 98 miles to get my first blister! And it’s a doozy.

So far, this has been the prettiest section I have seen. Rolling hills, cows and turkeys everywhere. At one point they were actually in the way. Will they move? Do I move?

Before I make it to Warner Springs, after Warner Springs Meadow I pass by a famous rock formation Eagle Rock. My dad’s always talking about rocks or trees. He would absolutely love this spot. “hey Chris look at that erratic” is all I kept hearing in my head. And wow was that truly awesome. I sat with tears in my eyes completely alone for miles. He doesn’t know it but it was a moment for him. A happy moment, a moment of complete inner peace.

I decided to yard sale my gear and let it all dry out while I was there to take in some extra time. I fear walking too fast and missing the small details like this. Life is short, and I took the entire year off. While I’m relaxing there 7 and Wolf both arrive and I was able to get a picture.

After packing back up its three or four more miles of absolutely gorgeous rolling fields and next thing you know I’m in the Warner Springs community center charging up my phone. The community is putting on an event for PCT Hikers. I run into Legend again as he’s following the bubble north. It’s always appreciated to feel the love from the community.

While checking in at the community center the gentleman notices my accent. He points me to the wall, I get to stick the pin in the map for Boston. 2025s first Massachusetts hiker to come through this town on the PCT. I’ll take it! And then I’ll take a nice cold can of Sprite too sir.

After I finished my Sprite I tossed it in recycling and asked some random guy if he’d give us a hitch up the road to the gas station. Almost 6$ gas prices. Thank goodness I run on gummy worms, snickers bars and ramen noodles.

Resupply was for roughly for six days. It was honestly scarce inside the store, I expect to be really hungry in 4 days before we get to Paradise Valley Cafe. While at PVC I’m also going to be picking up a new pair of shoes, micro spikes and my ice axe for climbing Mt San Jacinto that my dad mailed me last week. After Paradise Valley Cafe it’s then 2 more days before I get to the town of Idylwild.

I think I’m going to take a zero in Idylwild. A zero is a day off. I need to rest my feet, pick up some green, and take a good long shower. I also just hear it’s a pretty cool town that takes care of its hikers. If it’s like Julian I’m sure I’ll enjoy it but we will see how I feel when I get there though. Everyone knows I can’t sit still. I like to rummage.

After I say goodbye to beautiful people of Warner Springs, it was 6 1/2 more miles to my babbling Aqua Caliente creekside tent site. The winds tonight are calm. That’s a win. I heat up my dinner and eat it quickly, tonight I need to look at my foot before it’s dark. Is it getting better? No. But does it hurt? Also no. Ok you’re fine.

Quick J for the bones after dinner with 7 and Wolf and I slide into my tent for the night. The temps drop quickly and I bundle up inside my quilt. Time to drift off into dream land.

I plan to wake up before the other two to get a head start. They don’t know it, but with my feet broken I have to walk slower but longer. It’s roughly 17 miles to Mikes place and 3,200’ vertical up. Mikes place is a trail angels place where hikers can go and hang out, refresh, and kill some time before moving on. I read on Facebook that Mike’s place was having water issues a few weeks ago, but I’m hoping that is cleared up by now. Tomorrow will be a long day and I’m mentally ready for it.

After a couple nights in Julian to wait out the snow storm we decided we couldn’t wait anymore. The people of Julian have been absolutely amazing. From giving us free food and drinks to even discounting our hotel room, the hospitality definitely earns good reviews and it’s super appreciated. I was lucky to even drop my laundry off after 10 days in the same clothes and they took care of it for me.

Wolf knows a guy Professor from the last time they hiked the Tahoe Rim Trail who lives local. He said he would give us a hitch back to scissors crossing in the morning to get back on trail from Julian. The weather forecast for tomorrow AM (Friday) looks promising so we are definitely going to be motivated to move fast.

Weather forecasts like this I would honestly rather be blind to. But, this couple day section is definitely one where I’ll have to embrace the suck.

I wake up around 6 and take a last shower and get ready. Seven wants to hit the Miners Diner at 8 when it opens because our hitch gets here at 9. Big breakfast guy that guy. The trail angel who’s giving us the ride goes by the name Professor. He pulled up at 8:45 in a blue Subaru.

There’s 5 of us today. Myself Wolf, Seven, and we picked up Anita and Dirk from Germany. They are not “together” but when they arrived in the US they had obviously a lot in common both being from Germany, so they started hiking together.

We cram into professors Impreza like it’s a clown car and take the 25 minute ride to the trail. 15 minutes in Wolf asks if I’m going to need a Zofran haha. Long windy roads, snow on the ground, a guy called Professor driving, 5 speed Subaru! Nah I’m good today. Honestly why I skipped breakfast.

We get to the trail head and the sun is thinking about shining. The Professor tells us it’s about a 3 mile up and then smooth sailing to the water cache 14 miles in. I take 2.5 liters of water with me thinking it’s raining. I won’t drink as much with my rain cover on. It’s a hassle to get in and out of my bag in the rain.

2.5 miles in I turn and look at the switchbacks I just crushed, absolutely beautiful. Single track the whole way up, nice and windy. I make it to the water cache and meet another hiker Juan from Mexico. He said he started March 1st but was really taking his time. He had been at the cache for 2 days waiting out the weather.

I grab 2 liters for the next bunch of miles while I make some ramen noodles to mentally warm up. As soon as I finished my noodles Seven walks up for his water and then I’m back walking again. The cache is about a mile down a small hill off trail. The way back up that hill felt very heavy.

I get to the cross roads of the trail and there’s a trail log. I sign in “Mouse” and remember the vape pen I found 5 miles back in my pocket. Randomly I hear someone yelling did anyone find a red vape pen! Yes I yell back! I dropped it in the hiker box. I couldn’t believe I even found the owner and could drop that weight while here. That was nice too, I didn’t want to carry the trash. Nicotine? No thank you.

With the rain picking up Seven and I really start to get moving, we are looking to go another six more miles before we set up camp. We’re expecting it to be an early night with the weather. I don’t think I stopped over the next six miles and next thing you know I’m pitching my tent on the wet ground.

I spent 10 minutes finding rocks, I suspect I will need them tonight to secure my stakes in the soft sand. With winds whipping in my Duplex tent is going to get battered all night. It’s an ear plugs night.

After pitching my tent I decide to do something I NEVER do back home. I make my dinner inside knowing there is no bears in So Cal. Tonight I finished off the noodles I started for lunch, little margarita pepperoni tossed in for kicks and then it’s off to bed.

As I lay in my tent listening to the wind pick up. Seven and I talk about the pros and cons of his tent vs mine. Both work well, both well made. But tonight I think I’ll find out why a free standing tent may have been easier on the PCT. Night night folks

Chilly but much warmer than last night. 4:45AM, I am startled by the sound of something shhhhhzzzzip.  7’s tent zipper opening as he goes pee. I wake up with the feeling I over slept. What time is it? Searching for my watch in the dark. Feeling like I had somewhere to be, today is day 75 that “I’m unemployed and selectively homeless”. I have nowhere to be, this is exactly what I want and need right now.

Today’s goal, a short day, I’m not sure if Wolf was right on the day light savings thing, but between 6-7AM sunrises and being in a canyon it would be a while before it was truly light out.  Heading north the sun will be in my face the entire climb to Lake Morena. I suspect that will be a trend for the entire trail. It makes me wonder about getting darker sunglasses.

I slowly and methodically pack up my camp, sleeping quilt/bag on bottom, various soft things in the middle, and my food on very top. Since my tents still wet, that goes on the outside of my pack today. I segregate things I’ll need access to and bury the things I won’t need till tonight. It’s only 5 short miles to Lake Morena.  I pack 2.5ish liters of water knowing I’ll be in the sun on the ascent. I shoot for 1 liter for every 4 miles, but today I carry a little extra to try and catch up for yesterday. 

The long windy switchbacks were relentless. Coming from hiking mainly NH, switchbacks suck.  I think they kind’ve make me dizzy. I get my first glimpse of the Lake and next think you know I’m settling into the campground mid day to dry my stuff out.

After setting up my stuff next to the trail angel Legend and his crew. I hang out for a bit and meet the folks who set up to help and guide new hikers. They ask me my plans and where I’m from, we exchange info and my stuff dries out nice. They laugh when I tell them my story, my career, family, etc. A few of them being retired from engineering tell me “kid you don’t know it yet but you’re life just changed”…

In the last 18 months, they truly have no idea just much that was already true.

I get a text from Wolf, they were about an hour behind me the whole time. Wolf decided to skip the dry out and head straight to town for a burger at the Malt Shop. I should’ve did the same but hey, being dry was more exciting than fed to me. I packed back up, said thanks and goodbye to the Lake Morena crew and walked the half mile road walk to the malt shop, 7 was there also.

A quick cheese burger and fries, I initially said it was terrible. But I rethought about that on the walk back. I rethought hard about my negativity. I said to my self that burger was terrible in comparison to the 5 star burgers I’ve had in my life, but that burger was 5 stars in comparison to the burgers I have in my food bag now.

Wolf says to keep it up and they’ll call me half empty instead of Mouse. This trip for me, outside of the physical struggle will also be a mental one. A fight to flip negativity away, another mile in that burger was no longer terrible.

That burger hit the spot.

A few more miles behind me I start to become bored. The terrain hasn’t changed much and it’s been single track trail along windy slopes. As I speed walk to save time on the flats, I notice some trail love. I commend the folks stopping long enough to put this shape together. In the sun I won’t stop long enough to pee. I’ve perfected walking and peeing at the same time now.

A little further and we walk through an established campground. There’s some people there with fruit, beer, ice cream, and things like cleaning towels, they are planning on hiking the trail in 2026. They’re paying it forward now for good future karma. I appreciate it. I think when I’m done I’ll probably spend a week wherever my favorite section was to give back.

I crush a halo orange and took a gala apple for the road walk. It’s roughly six more miles past Kitchen Creek till our next tent site. I worry about the time it’ll get dark and start moving! 7 and Wolf stop at kitchen creek for water, I pushed on thinking I don’t need it or want to make the .8 mile detour.

I decide to call it quits early about 3.5 miles before I planned to. I set up my tent and call it a night alone. A quick mental battle of did I make the right decision ensues. Could I keep pushing? I accept my decision and own it. In the game of thru hiking you win some and you lose some. I expect to lose many. And I’m fine with that as long as I’m safe to play again. HYOH (Hike Your Own Hike)

The next morning I rise early and push forward through a mist. I’ve become separated from 7 and Wolf. I couldn’t keep up with their pace yesterday. We intend on meeting back up in Julian for a zero day. So my plan is to put my head down, my phone away and get my legs moving. Main motivation over the next two or three days? To get out of this weather pattern and to my next purchase, a new raincoat.

OR Helium- ya let me down. 👎🏼👎🏼

As I climb up to 6,000’ elevation Mt Laguna is absolutely beautiful. Of course it’s colder at higher elevation and it reminds me of back home, tall pine trees fill the view and the air smells crystal clean. My dad would be here saying ‘these trees wait hundreds of years for a chance to sprout up and finally grow. They wait for the tallest tree to fall for their shot at seeing some sky. And then it’s their chance to shine!’ Most of these trees are probably hundred of years old.

As I continue on for some reason I want Mt Laguna to be near Laguna Beach. Or somehow related. Newsflash, it’s not. As I stare at the blank tree before me I sing the Laguna Beach song by Natasha Bedingfield and think back to 2017. The last time I was in Laguna Beach. My X and I spent Valentine’s Day weekend at Surf N Sands after a week road tripping So Cal. We had dinner, watched sunset, listened to the waves crash all night with the balcony door open and then had breakfast at the Orange inn the next morning. Ahhhh to think we were just kids.

I would crush that breakfast right now.

Quick resupply in Laguna and roughly 35 miles till Scissors crossing. The trail starts to descend from the mountains back into the desert. I start to mentally prepare to much longer water carries as the desert will be just as I expect.

I hitch hike from Scissors crossing into Julian. I plan to take my first few days off in Julian. I check into the Julian Lodge which is a PCT hiker friendly spot and I swing by Two Foot Adventures to buy a rain coat. Talking with Mary the owner we have a lot in common. She was an aerospace engineer who one day said F this and quit. Never looked back.

While in town I grab some resupply snacks, rehydrate my kidneys and meet back up with 7 and Wolf. We plan to grab a free piece of PCT Pie at Moms pie and take much needed showers before getting back on trail in a day or two.

My plans for town stays is really fluid right now. Initially going into my hike I said I wanted to experience the small communities as much as I could. Knowing I will be getting to the Sierras really early I have time to burn. Also knowing a lot of the communities I probably won’t come back to again unless I hike the PCT a second time. The trail community so far is really re establishing my faith in people and I think I needed that. Being from Boston it’s rare people are friendly, willing to help, and it’s extremely rare I get to see a town with no one in it. It makes me miss living in Sanbornton where I lived a slower lifestyle pace, and helped out any neighbor who asked.

In MA big fences make great neighbors.

Julian at 7PM tonight is a ghost town but my second burger of this trail was absolutely delicious.

After our food Seven and Wolf say they want to do some drinking tonight. Off to the VFW we go, we heard the VFW is the only place in town we can get a mean Margarita.

Sitting inside and looking at all the WWII and Vietnam memorabilia makes me say damn these guys had it much worse than I do right now. Little rain is nothing to complain about.

After months of preparation. And by “preparation,” I mostly mean doubling down on Spanish lessons, listening to reggae, devouring trash food, and brain rotting Seinfeld for the 10,000th time on Netflix.

Alright, alright, I know, sounds intense. But physically, outside of the gym, I stuck to my yoga routine and carried my 35-pound pack everywhere to get used to the weight again. This bag is my lifeline, holding everything I need to survive, and I respect that fully.

Mentally, I’ve braced myself for the challenges ahead by accepting one simple truth: no matter how much I prepare, I can’t control everything. The weather, injuries, unforeseen obstacles, those are out of my hands. My plan? Embrace it all with laughter and a smile, make educated decisions, weigh risk against reward, and trust that the rest is exactly the journey I’m looking for.

I’ve always believed that nothing truly prepares your body for hiking like hiking itself. But back home, it’s not hiking season—it’s ski season, and a mediocre one at that

Now, my first real task? No, not surviving the brutal permit system, dialing in my gear, or saying those bittersweet goodbyes like that last hug, that final airport kiss. After that, I need to get from San Diego to Campo, CA, the official starting point of the Pacific Crest Trail. The Southern Terminus.

Campo is about an hour and a half by car from San Diego, but not having a car, I decided after getting here to take my time, spend a couple of nights in the city, soak up the beach, catch up with friends, and handle a few last-minute errands before disappearing into the wild. It was worth it, a little calm before the storm.

After my goodbyes and one last view of the Pacific Ocean, the first leg of my bus journey began. Or so I thought.

As I packed up to take the bus at the last minute I scrapped it. I don’t think I’ll make it to the station in time, I’m usually always early, in fact, in usually viciously early for everything, but for once I was late and it only runs twice a day. I send a text to an Uber driver I met the day before. Jim, a Navy vet who’s now retired, lives in the area and worked his corporate career post military for Hitachi. He was nice enough to tell me if I needed anything give him a call. I called and he was there a few hours later.

Thank you Jim, I was dreading that bus ride.

62 minutes and I was at the Campo Green store. A quick purchase of some gas and jerky and I’m off up the street to the post office, I mailed my headphones, crocs and some other things I simply don’t want to carry to my friend Dylan in Washington. They weren’t as heavy at home.

Dylan doesn’t know it yet but his ass is picking me up when I get there, I’m crashing on his couch, eating his food and surfing his boat for a week come August. Life is and will be good.

Finally I arrive at CLEEF, pitch my tent, and go sit down, crack open a cold can of Sprite, a crushed stroopwaffle in hand, around a fire place with 4-5 other hikers, sharing stories of where we came from, how unemployed we are, what our spouses think of this and questioning if we are F’in crazy.

As the convo continued I think of back home, a tear drops from my eye. I’m mentally toast. I look to my left and see a older person with a face of pure excitement, they just finished the AZT to my right a guy younger than me I’d guess mid 20s, white as a ghost.. I quickly learn and realize the fear we have is normal, and we are in this together.

The trail community is strong in the thru hiking world.

Tomorrow morning, I’ll wake before sunrise, savor one last use of a flush toilet, brush my teeth, text my mother not to worry, and then start my walk to Canada.

Northbound.

NOBO.