Days 1-2, Miles 1-26: Beginnings.

Two days into the PCT, I'm sunburnt, sore and covered in grime from head to toe. Yesterday, after removing my pack at the campsite, I couldn't move my shoulders to lift my arms above my head. Bright red slashes mark where my hip belt meets my waist. Today, after a 1,300 foot climb, I sat down and found my thighs had tightened so much I struggled to stand again. A mixture of sunscreen, sweat and dust ran in rivulets down my face and into my eyes. Tonight, I'm camped at mile 26, exactly 1 percent of the way through the PCT. And I've never had more fun in my life. On Wednesday, Scout dropped us off on the Mexican border at the southern terminus of the trail. After some quick photos with the monument, we started our hike. Soon we came across the marker for Mile 1. Only 2,649 to go.

For all the nerves leading up to the trail, actually starting the walk set things right. "Oh, yeah, hiking. I know how to do this." Before long, three miles became five and the midday heat started to kick in. We found some shade and took our lunch with two guys from Richmond, Ben and Cody. With our new friends in tow, we returned to the trail, alternating well-paced miles with long water breaks in the shade. While the heat was challenging, we enjoyed taking in the new environment. The desert we're hiking is not the barren, sand-swept landscape found in the Sahara. It's mountainous, dotted with boulders, scrub trees and scraggly bushes. 

This year, with the state's drought finally receding, wildflowers color the trail in pink, purple, white and yellow. Lizards sun themselves on the path, skittering off at our arrival. A few snakes (no rattlers yet, thankfully) slither across the trail. For Midwesterners and East Coasters, it's all very foreign and exciting. As we reached mid-afternoon, the trail made a long descent into the valley. At the bottom, we found a welcome sight. Hauser Creek, which had been dried up for years, was flowing strongly, offering us a perfect campsite among a shady grove of trees and some grass. I snuck off to the creek with a bottle of beer I had hidden in my pack; setting it under the water to chill. An hour later, with the suds properly refrigerated, I procured the bottle and passed it around, making myself a lot of new friends in the process. Later, a group came together by the creek to eat dinner, a gathering that resulted in our first trail name (a trail name is a moniker a thru-hiker takes on or is given during their walk, usually a reference to an anecdote along the way). In this case, Ryan a guy from Wisconsin who had taken a 44-hour train ride to San Diego, pulled out an absurd amount of gravy packets to supplement his mashed potatoes. And so, Gravy Train was born. Today, we got moving early for the climb to Lake Morena. Ben and Cody stayed with us, as well as Gravy Train. Also joining us were Piotr, an affable Pole, and Steph, a Texan and former circus trapeze performer. Our hiking group quickly established a good rapport. Upon reaching the lake, we discovered a small store a short road walk away, where we had no difficulty ordering cheeseburgers at 10 a.m. After lunch, we went back to the lake to wait out the heat of the day. This break saved us from overheating, but it allowed our limbs to tighten up, leaving several of us hobbling as we struggled to regain a hiking rhythm. I seem to be the only one not suffering from blisters, but I'm feeling the pain in other ways. Both of my thighs are quite sore, and my right shin is starting to throb as well. I'm hoping this is a muscle issue and not a recurrence of the shin splints that have dogged me every time I try to get back into running. My shoulders have recovered from the first day's agony but are still more than a little stiff. And even consistent re-applications of sunscreen have failed to prevent red marks from appearing on my forearms and the back of my legs. 

This is all to be expected. The body takes a while to adjust to the rigors of thru-hiking, and all of us in camp are suffering from the same maladies. Hopefully, in a few weeks they will have receded into general soreness instead of becoming more serious injuries. Tomorrow, we'll get up early and hike 15 miles to Mount Laguna, where there are stores to replenish our food. After that, we'll get back on the trail and see where the next day takes us. Just hopefully a little less sore than the one before.