My friend Geoff is hiking the Pacific Crest Trail at the moment, intending to do it all, from the Mexico border clear into Canada, in one season. If there was a pool for when he’d drop out, I’d put my money on “not at all,” as I have complete faith in him making it the entire way. It’s thousands of miles!

The story is his to tell, and he does, here. My little part in his adventure started and ended today, when I took him some things that he’d left with me which were a little too heavy and unneccesary to pack through the long desert. Bears aren’t typically a problem in the Mohave, but now that he’s crossing into the Sierras, he’s going to want his fishing pole and bear canister.

So I brought his things to him today, in Tehachapi. Road trip! That’s my kind of adventure most of the time anyway; one in which I can easily get to things like a shower and drinking water. Even when I hunt, I’m rarely more than a couple of days away from a shower (I bring my own with me these days.)

He looks good. He was slim to start with, and seems to have pared down into a lean, mean, walking machine. Hearing the stories was fascinating, and it was interesting to meet a few of the other hikers. I have an enormous amount of respect for them, for following their dream and working so hard at it. My passions run in different directions, but I recognize the kindred spirit of a fellow fanatic when I meet one.

I really look forward to seeing his photos, but I suspect that most of this journey he’s taking is an internal one, and very private. Which is absolutely fine with me; I just want to see a view or two without having to ::shudder:: hike to get there.