Yep. It’s November. And just getting chilly and dark. Perfect time to share summer memories!… when the weather was warm, the water was flowing, and the only fires were in a fire ring. Ah, summer…

I felt intentionally nonchalant about it all. Oh yeah, we’re heading out for a few days of backpacking. Maybe we’ll hike just a few miles on the PCT. Maybe we’ll base camp somewhere and just wander around the wilderness on day hikes. We’ll pop in by Echo Lake, and we’ll see how we feel… and how the weather holds up. We’ll probably meander a bit of trail and pop out not far from where we started, maybe a day earlier than planned, even.

Secretly, I wanted epic. I wanted miles, and I wanted to end with beer. But I didn’t think that was possible. So I decided to let that desire sit on the sidelines and pretend we were just meandering along, enjoying the view.

4.5 days and 50 miles later, as we sat draining our post-hike beer at high camp at Squaw Valley Ski Resort (which, btw, has a pool and hot tub going in summer. What!?), I laughed – cackled even – hahahahahahaha! – at the utter amazingness of our journey and wonderful complete lack of injury.

I wanted to be nonchalant about it all, because we didn’t plan for a long hike. Not like in 2015, and certainly not like in 2008… and really, not even 50 miles long. We’d been a bit busy. So, we didn’t expect much of the trail or ourselves. We did very little preparation and training. Very little. Like, we were running-out-the-door-forgetting-things little (not the essentials, but some things). And that running out the door part? That was a big part of our training.

We wanted to get out on the PCT again and just say, “hello” to it. Remind it we’re still thinking about it. And maybe it would be kind to us this year. And, we wanted to be extra flexible given that we were joined by a friend for this nonchalant meander through, it turns out, EPIC WILDERNESS. You know, we didn’t want said friend to feel he had to push himself if he didn’t want to. (Side note on said friend: Not only is he a hiking machine, but he was entirely set on ending at beer and provided much of the energy that took us that distance. Yay!)

But once you get going on the PCT, well, it’s kind of the hiker autobahn. You get swept up in the current of through-hikers, in the continuous sweeping and changing views and vistas. And you find yourself pushing yourself, even if just to see what’s around the next bend (more trail), or whether there’s a better campsite just another mile up the trail (there isn’t). And can’t you see that part of the trail up ahead is still in sun even if the sun has set here, so let’s just keep going and get over there?

And by miles and breathtaking views and a strong desire to escape mosquitoes (pro tip: bring a head net… or a full body glove. There is no escaping mosquitoes), you find your untrained self averaging double digits – keeping your fingers crossed that your body will keep holding out a few more miles today, a few more days to go – and still relishing every moment of trail (okay, you’re probably not relishing the mosquitoes).

And as much as our bodies continued to deliver, so did the PCT. Crystal clear weather. Views that changed daily with the miles. Classic breathtaking Sierra vistas that continued for hours. A mountain pass with just a “smattering” of snow to navigate. Wildflowers exploding everywhere (yay high snow year!). Peaceful forests (save for the mosquitoes) with pine carpeted trail for easy walking (okay, after the first couple days of endless ankle wrenching rock and scree). Plenty of rock hopping and log balancing creek crossings (or as those less stable of us like to call it, fording… great for cleaning feet, socks, and shoes!). And crystal lakes for viewing and swimming.

And before we knew it, on the 5th morning, we’d arrived at the turnoff to Squaw Valley, remarkable only in our giddy amazement that we’d actually made it this far. We poked around the Squaw ridgeline to assess the best way to our hard-earned beer. Turns out, in a high snow year such as this one, anything much steeper than a green run is still perilously covered in snow. Fine if you’ve got your ice ax ready (or skis). We didn’t. So after some deliberation, we skipped the black diamonds and that one blue run that’s really a black diamond but labeled blue (and “easiest way down”)  because Squaw doesn’t want you to feel bad that you got stuck on this side of the mountain and it’s all black diamonds down. But it is all black diamonds down. So we kept climbing up to a different part of the ridgeline, not knowing if we were, in the end, going to have to sled down anyway.

Fear not! In fact, rejoice with that Snickers bar you forgot you hadn’t eaten yet! As our photo shows, it was an easy-peasy gravel-road hike down to beers, complete with a mini snowball fight – check “snowball fight in July… in the northern hemisphere” off your bucket list.

This stretch of PCT really offers a bit of everything, and we soaked it all up. The ski resort finish, a bus ride and fabulous double hitch back to our car (thanks, wonderful humans… second hitch came with ice cream, friends… ice cream!), a massive burger, and a glorious shower completed the epicness of our journey. Until our next casual wander, friends!