The Story Continues...
...but it's time for a change.
Read MoreBeta. For hikers.
Hello, my name is Daniel Winsor. I hiked the Pacific Crest Trail in 2017 under the trail name "Beta". This website is a reflection of my experience on the PCT in my blog. I also create articles and gear reviews on the subject of thru-hiking. I hope you enjoy your time here!
...but it's time for a change.
Read MoreLooking at the footprints headed to the glorious pizza-and-beer-filled wonderland, I felt a surge of jealous... panic, almost. We were standing eight miles from rest. Eight miles from warmth. Eight miles from endless food. Eight miles from Melanie. We could be sitting down in a heated truck in five hours...
Were we really going to continue?
Read MoreAs I continued to lower myself further and further, moving past the point of return, I prayed my foot would find the rock before the prow of snow broke off... sending me into the dark hole under the ice that had been carved by the forceful stream above.
Fighting the pushing force of the water at my back, I lowered and lowered... but my foot wasn't making contact with the rock yet! I felt panic flood my brain. I was too far over the edge to get back onto the platform, but I couldn't find the damn boulder I'd spotted from the side! Had I overestimated the distance down to the rock?!
Read MoreBlack water swirled angrily around my legs, removing every shred of warmth from my skin under my rain gear. As I stood perched in the middle of the creek, feeling in my legs almost immediately disappeared. I looked across the creek at Amped and muttered, "Dammit. This is absolutely NOT safe."
Read MoreAn ominous thought drifted into the forefront of my mind, 'This isn't going to end well.'
Sure enough, I watched in horrified shock for the second time that day as Thor wobbled, slipped... and went into the black, rolling mass of water.
"NOOOOOO!!!" Amped yelled in dismay, "SWIM THOR, SWIM!!"
Read MoreThe silhouette of the large, grey lion stood out against the white backdrop of the snow-covered mountainside behind it. The cat was slowly walking high on a ridge above us about 200 yards away. It was going in the same direction we were... it was walking what appeared to be the same speed that we were...
It's head was low, looking down toward the valley where we were. Was it... watching us?
Read MoreAt 2 a.m., my eyes shot open at the sound of my muffled alarm.
Yesterday had taught us a borderline traumatic lesson: do whatever it takes to walk on hard snow. We couldn't mentally afford another day of miserable postholing.
Read MoreAs we sat in the comfortable lower elevation at Woods Creek, sipping coffee by headlamp, and slowly breaking down camp in the still morning, we had no idea what was coming.
There was an ungodly hard day ahead of us.
Read MoreI had spent the entire trip trying to keep up with Amped, but now I found myself waiting for him. Every time I'd stop and wait, I'd reach the point of concern right when he'd appear from the snow-choked trees with a heavy limp, and an even heavier look in his eyes.
This wasn't good.
Read MoreSurprisingly, it wasn't much easier to get up after the next alarm... but grumpiness aside; it was time to go. The snow was hard again, the weather was still, and we were five miles from the highest point on the Pacific Crest Trail, Forester Pass (13,200 ft).
But we needed to get there before the sun.
Read MoreLooking out from my tent in the crisp morning, there was no sign of Amped stirring.
"Good," I told myself, "poor bastard needs some good sleep after yesterday."
The night had been below freezing, but probably still 10F to 15F warmer than the previous night. I had slept well and it looked like Amped had also slept well. This was good news, but I knew the next night might not be as... *ahem*... "warm" at the higher elevation and that would be the night before summiting Forester Pass, the highest point on the Pacific Crest Trail at 13,200 feet.
Read MoreLooking out from my tent in the crisp morning, there was no sign of Amped stirring.
"Good," I told myself, "poor bastard needs some good sleep after yesterday."
The night had been below freezing, but probably still 10F to 15F warmer than the previous night. I had slept well and it looked like Amped had also slept well. This was good news, but I knew the next night might not be as... *ahem*... "warm" at the higher elevation and that would be the night before summiting Forester Pass, the highest point on the Pacific Crest Trail at 13,200 feet.
Read MoreMy alarm woke me up to gentle winds whipping the tent in the soft blue morning light. I sighed out loud in relief. Another brutally cold night had passed, somewhere around 15F. I had spent the night trying to avoid cold spots in my too-small sleeping bag. What a mistake. The entire night consisted of me waking up every 45 minutes to check my phone, praying the time had flown past and it was close to morning.
My prayers were thoroughly unanswered.
Read MoreI woke to the dim morning light illuminating the spider-webbed ice that had formed inside my tent walls. Sleep had been fitful. I was exhausted from the previous day and the general lack of sleeping, but the cold was adding another layer of difficulty.
Read MoreI finally opened my eyes in the cold tent and sighed in irritation, letting out a visible column of breath.
I'd been awake for what seemed like hours. Hell, maybe I'd never actually fallen asleep. I adjusted my position in my sleeping bag for the twentieth time. Well, it wasn't my sleeping bag. I'd swapped out my 30F bag for Melanie's 20F bag, but it didn't feel any warmer... I was just barely able to fit inside the bag, so I was pushing into different parts of the sleeping bag, compressing the down and creating cold spots.
The 20F night wasn't helping.
Read More