As the 377 photos and 11 videos parade by at 215 beats per minute, keep an eye out for a few Easter eggs: a bloody nose, a pair of broken sunglasses, my parents (twice), two fly fishermen, a movie theater marque, a rainbow, a “buckle up” joke, a famous date shake from Hadley’s, the leg of a fake human skeleton, and my 3-year old niece sleeping.

And here’s what 1000 photos looks like!

Then April 2011 arrived. In that month, I was laid off from my job of six years and decided to hike as much as I could of the 2,650-mile Pacific Crest Trail (PCT). The journey started at the Mexican border near Campo, California, through the harsh deserts of eastern California, into the wilds of the Sierra Nevadas, and through the thick forests of Northern California. 159 days later, my life-changing journey came to an end in early October after hiking nearly 1,700 miles of the trail. I came home with a strong appreciation for life and nature, a thinner waistline, and over 850 pages of journals! Before sharing any of the stories, videos, or thousands of photos I took on the journey, I’d like to share that which is most precious to me: my journals.

Here’s a visual representation of every scanned page from all four books:

My “Tower of Moleskines:” Despite their obvious individual distortions, these are all Moleskine plain pocket-sized notebooks. All except Book 2 are hardcover.

Below are my thoughts and sketches from the third day on the trail. I wrote, on average, about a dozen times a day throughout the entire journey. Sometimes I’d write for a minute or so, other times I’d sit down and write/sketch for an hour. Early on, I played around with starting each journal entry with a mileage stamp, as you can see in the spread below. I’d soon move to a time stamp to make it easier. Some of my wildlife sketches were just simple doodles to hopefully record enough identifying features to look up later.

When I would make the time, I’d spend it sketching landscapes. The sketch of Eagle Rock (left page) near Warner Springs, CA was sketched on the scene. If I desired to sketch a scene but didn’t make the time on the trail, I’d leave room and sketch it later based on photos I captured, as I did for the cow pasture scene (right page).

Here’s the first pages of my second journal, a soft-covered Moleskine. I learned quickly that I disliked this book as a field journal: the soft cover made it easier for moisture (sweat, rain) to get to the pages within. Note how the postal cancellation mark has smeared because of this.

When possible, I’d collect interesting flowers I found along the PCT. The pages of a Moleskine do a pretty good job pressing and drying out flowers. This flowering plant, however, wasn’t designed for storage. Its small flower petals began falling off almost immediately after placing it on the page. I now keep the flower and its small snowflake-like petals in a wax paper envelope for preservation.

Here I experimented with a different method of recording a section of the hike by centralizing around a physical representation of the trail (left side of these pages).

After about 500 miles, my hiking shorts had all but disintegrated. Instead of throwing the badly-shredded shorts away, I burned them in a campfire in a morning ceremony. Afterwards, I took a piece of the smoldering fabric and added it to the journal as a memento. It is said that 500 miles of hiking equals about 1.1 million steps.

Here’s a few pictures from the ceremony.

I like adding ephemera to my journals. Anything flat will do. Here I have a movie ticket stub, a candy label, a sticker, a stamp and a postmark – all from the town of Tehachapi. To add a different feel to the page, I tried following the contour of the oval sticker on the right page. The map I sketched on the right page shows the area of the town where I spent most of my time.

The sketch on this page was done a day or so after the writing was added. I left the gap so that I could spend time later sketching the pleasant scene of a house amongst trees.

Music on my journeys is important to me. On this page, I wrote down more than a few songs that were shared on the trail. Swapping MP3 players with other hikers for a section of trail is a great way to hear some new music.

On July 11th, my desire to hike all the way to Canada was waning. I would use my journal to define problems I would experience on the trail and come up with options for trying to solve the problem. On the left page, I listed five plans I could fall back on if my goal of hiking to Canada didn’t work for me. I ended up going with “Plan A”: “NOBO UNTIL GO NO ‘MO”, which meant I’d hike northbound (“NoBo”) until I couldn’t go any further. I think most thru hikers on the PCT are extremely goal-oriented people. Keeping a journal helps me define my main goal as well as daily goals I would make.

I found a coin in a stream while hiking through the Sierras of California. I thought for a while on how I would record the finding in my journal and came up with the idea of doing a rubbing, like one would do to preserve the patterns and lettering of a gravestone. When I eventually got a hold of a pencil, I recorded both faces of the coin on the page.

I photographed the coin where I found it, on the edge of a stream in the Sierras. I’m not an expert in coins, but I believed that the “HELVETIA” inscribed on the coin referred to Switzerland. As it happened, I ran into some Swiss hikers soon after finding the coin and they confirmed it. They also told me that this coin – a 1998 Rappen (or a Swiss penny) – is no longer used as currency, but Swiss like keeping one on them for good luck. So for good luck, I kept this penny on me for the remaining 900 miles of my journey.

The more I wrote, the more a writing style was forming. I would increase the size of words to show importance.

Unfortunately, despite writing so often on my journey, there were days I didn’t make time to write. Oddly enough, I had a hard time writing on “zero” days, or days of zero hiking. While at Vermillion Valley Resort, a hiker-friendly community just off the trail, I didn’t write at all in my journal. Instead, I jotted down some notes about the time spent there that will hopefully jog my memory when I get around to writing in more detail on the blank pages. I plan on doing this sooner than later, before more of those small details of the day slip away forever!

I like adding color to my pages in the form of beer labels. Plus, I like beer. Especially beer after hiking for hundreds of miles. While in Mammoth Lakes, California, I took a much-anticipated trip to the Mammoth Brewing Company to try a selection of their beers. I discovered this delicious beer while on a previous backpacking trip to the Sierras. I also love the creative (and humorous) graphic design of the labels. Note how the text on the right and left of this label is meant to be read while drinking from the bottle.

I made an effort to get postmarks whenever possible. In fact, I once hiked 4 miles out of my way to get one from a small-town post office off of the PCT. At the small post office in Tuolumne, located in Yosemite National Park, the postal clerk was nice enough to give me an assortment of postmarks, including one made only to be used on June 5, 2010, commemorating National Trails Day.

I tend to stick with writing utensils I trust. Here you can see the exact moment I switched from a dying Staples Xeno 1.0 ballpoint pen to a Papermate ballpoint pen. I liked the slightly finer point of the Papermate that I’ve switched favorite field pens. Also on this page is the beginnings of an experiment to find out how productive I am on the trail when it comes to hiking.

Here’s one of the first pages of my third PCT journal, providing valuable calculations/information that I would use throughout the trek: locations of post offices, their zip codes, and what mile they fall on the PCT. For instance, I noted that Etna, CA is at mile 1,606 of the PCT, located 15 miles off the trail, has a grocery store (for resupplying), and when I estimated I would arrive.

I discovered the historic Benson Hut while hiking and stayed there for an evening. I spent an hour or so sketching the inside of the unique “emergency ski hut” found near Truckee, California. Sketching a place helps me remember it more vividly.

Hiking journals shouldn’t be clean unless your hike is clean. In this example, you can see dirt and smears of ink, a subtle clue that I was grimy and had just applied insect repellant to my hands. At the time, I was a little upset that the chemicals had smudged the ink, but I have learned to appreciate that my journal records more than just the words I print on it, for better or worse.

Now here’s something I found interesting: each of the four black and white butterfly wings were found miles from each other along the trail. I rarely saw this species of butterfly alive, but it seems to be a popular snack of the local bird population. When I arrived into Sierra City and went to the post office, it seemed appropriate to adhere the 64-cent Monarch stamp on the page.

I draw maps to help learn the geology or terrain of the trail or to note reroute options to share with future PCT hikers. In this instance, I learned of a short and steep trail for getting back on the PCT from Drakesbad Resort in the Lassen Volcanic National Park. I generally would only consider taking side routes if they were equal or greater in distance than it would be to stay on the PCT. A motto of all thru hikers is, “Hike your own hike.”

To record the excitement and messiness of finding ripe blackberries on the PCT, I smeared the berries onto the page. Until then, I never considered using natural pigments as a way of adding color to my journals.

Am I the only one who finds beauty in the colors of poison oak? They say that “leaves of three, leave them be!” but I broke the rule and plucked a few for my journal, careful not to touch them. On this journey, I started carrying scraps of wax paper in the back pocket of my Moleskine to be used in preserving items like this.

On the left, I recorded a water source near the trail that isn’t well documented in the books and maps. I also found an interesting Orthopteran that I took time to sketch on the trail. I enjoy coming home with these sketches and try identifying them in my collection of nature guidebooks. If I’m confident in its identification, I’ll go back and write the common and scientific name in the journal.

Reaching mile 1,500 on the PCT was a feel-good moment for me. I never thought I’d be able to hike so far. It just goes to show you that anything is possible if you put your mind to it.

One of my favorite stamps to look for in the post offices along the trail is the Go Green stamp called “CHOOSE TO WALK.” It was the perfect representation for my journey. (Unfortunately, in this instance, I forgot to put the stamp in the journal BEFORE getting it post marked. d’oh!). The notes below the stamp are mileage estimates designed to calculate food resupplies. The thrown in notes on the left are for when I find time to write about the week I spent in Etna waiting for a snowstorm to roll through. Unbeknownst to me at the time, these would be my final days on my journey. The snow was too deep and so I called the hike finished, leaving the trail and going home on October 6th.

I love hiking data. Here I diligently recorded my latitude and longitude every evening from my campsite. I picture myself someday revisit these sites with my family, maybe even with my unborn children.

More PCT data. Everyday at the end of the day, I would record what PCT mile I was at, how many miles I did that day, what kind of accommodation I stayed in (ex. “T”=tent), and the location. I had fun naming my campsites if they had not already been named. For instance, “Camp Buddha Belly” was the name I gave the campsite I stayed at immediately after leaving Drakesbad on a full stomach.

While on this amazing journey, I learned a lot about myself and the art of keeping a journal. Since you made it this far in the post, maybe you’d like to learn more? I am currently writing a guidebook that I hope will help hikers and travelers start and retain their own journals while on the trail. If you follow me on Twitter (@thehikeguy), I’ll keep you posted on the book’s publication.

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Two weeks ago, while attending a live performance of Radiolab at UCLA, I lost my hiking journal. In the journal was all of my notes, maps, ideas, and thoughts about my 2011 resolution to hike Mt. Whitney. I was a bit devastated, admittedly. During the week of the lost journal, I started loosing hope that my hiking partner, Michael, and I wouldn’t get our permit to climb the mountain. I heard report after report of potential climbers getting rejection letters from the permit office. Last weekend, in fact, Michael and I ran into a pair of hikers who were also hoping to climb Whitney in September, but all of their dates were taken. Over 7,000 climbers submitted applications this year and only a handful would get a chance to climb to the top of the continental United States.

I began thinking about other options. I started looking into a replacement resolution if our permit was denied. It was around this time when I saw a National Geographic program on the Pacific Crest Trail (PCT). It wasn’t the first time I had heard of the 2,650-mile trail that runs from the border of Mexico to the border of Canada through California, Oregon, and Washington, but it was only until I saw the hour-long program did I start dreaming of hiking the entire trail in one season (called “thru hiking”). Since most thru hikers start in April and end in September, it wouldn’t be feasible to do this year. But next year… Yes, next year I’d do it. I ordered a few books online on the subject of the PCT and signed up as a spectator to attend the Annual Day Zero Pacific Crest Trail Kick Off (ADZPCTKO), which would be held on April 28-30 this year.

Then came Thursday, March 31st. I had received a call from UCLA that they had found my journal! Great news and completely unexpected. Also, I was laid off from my employer of six years. Also completely unexpected. While driving over to campus to retrieve my journal, I thought about what a great opportunity my employer ex-employer had now given me. The problem with doing the Pacific Crest Trail in one season is finding the time, money, and energy to do it. Well, thanks to my previous employer, I’ve found my window of opportunity… and I’m grabbing the bull by the horns!

On April 28th, 2011, I will depart for Campo, California, a small town near the border of Mexico, and start the six-month long trek northwards. Before then, I have only a few weeks to move all of my belongings into storage, make sure I have all the gear and supplies, tie up loose ends, and say farewell to my friends. More now than ever before, I don’t know what my future holds, but I am fairly certain that by the end of the month, my time as a resident of Southern California will come to an end. It is my intention to find a job in the Pacific Northwest (my birthplace) after completing the hike in September/October.

Among the reasons I’m doing the hike is to raise money and awareness for Soles4Souls, a charity that finds shoes for those in need. As a hiker, I’ve learned to appreciate a good pair of shoes. As a world traveler, I’ve learned that not everyone has them. Soles4Souls has made it a mission to give shoes to those who need them.

You can make a donation to Soles4Souls here: http://www.soles4soulsfundraising.org/kolby_kirk

You can follow my progress online as I aim to complete the entire Pacific Coast Trail within the next six months. Check it out here: http://pct.thehikeguy.com/

Weeping Rock as seen from the switchbacks of Hidden Canyon Trail. Strong winds blow the waterfall into the Navajo sandstone.

On an overcast day in March, I spent a day in Zion National Park hiking along the Hidden Canyon Trail. The trail is best explained in three sections. The first section, starting at the Weeping Rock trailhead, consists of eleven switchbacks which quickly climb about 800 feet of elevation. A lot of care went into building this section of the trail, with sandstone retaining walls and a patchwork of old pavement. Both are most likely relics from when the trail was built in 1928. After the steep but steady climb, the trail levels out yet becomes more difficult.

In this section, the most famous section, the trail has been literally carved into the side of the sandstone walls of Zion. If you slip on this section, an old chain that looks as old as the park is all that keeps you from falling off the cliff. I could see the parking lot almost directly below, the parked cars just small squares of color from this height. This section of the trail reminded me of Angel’s Landing, another famous vertigo-inducing hike of this park, but not as challenging. Where Angel’s Landing has long stretches of thin ledges climbing a fin of rock with 1,000-foot drops off of both sides, this section of Hidden Valley Trail is just 200-300 feet long, about 2-3 feet wide, and just a 800 foot drop on one side. So not that bad, in comparison.

The third section of the trail is Hidden Canyon itself, referred to by some climbers as the “Great White Crack.” The official trail, in fact, ends near the entrance of the hanging canyon.  A sign is posted warning visitors of the dangers that are ahead, suggesting that only fit hikers continue on.  In no time at all, you’ll be scrambling on slickrock, over boulders, and through a seasonal stream. It is stunningly beautiful. Every hiker I talked to was happy to be there.  One gentleman from Wisconsin couldn’t have been happier. “This is the kind of hike I have dreamed of doing in Utah,” he said. “This is just perfect!” With the right footwear and some hiking experience, there’s a lot to explore in this canyon.  However, the main feature is also the destination for many who are drawn to the trail. A half mile into the canyon is a small 25-foot tall natural arch.  With a unique striped grain that matches the wall behind it, and a mix of greens, browns, and yellow blotches of lichens make this worth the challenging hike.

Another view of Weeping Rock and the waterfall gushing out of Echo Canyon high above. Note the switchbacks of Hidden Canyon Trail can be seen in the lower right of this photo.

On my hike, there were some patches of snow.

The chain section of Hidden Canyon Trail. From up here, cars at the Weeping Rock trailhead look like small dots of color.

Eons of winds and rain have created interesting textures to the sandstone. The trail traverses the top of this slab.

Don't slip!

A lot of care went into the creation of this trail back in 1928. They don't make trails like this anymore.

Once in Hidden Canyon, the trail is less defined and follows the canyon floor.

It is said that the canyon was discovered by a climber in 1927. While attempting to climb the Great White Throne, he fell. The ensuing search discovered not only the injured climber but this canyon.

My favorite section of the canyon. I love the juxtaposition of the bright green moss-covered wall on one side of the canyon and the naked Navajo sandstone on the other.

Another view of this stunning section of the canyon.

This is the destination for most visitors to the canyon: a small natural arch.

On the way out of the canyon, I met Laura and Josh. These two Buckeyes seem to love this park just as much as I do. The next two photos were taken near the tree in the top center of this shot.

A long way down! Note the vehicles in the Weeping Rock trailhead far below.

Just chillin' on the rocks, checking out the view.

One last look at the impressive waterfall. Notice the group of people below Weeping Rock (right).

But this was different. This was WEST COAST SNOWPOCALYPSE 2011!! The California blogosphere was a buzz with their own take on the weekend forecast, hoping that snow would fall in their fair city. The excitement of snow falling on unusual places was contagious, spreading all the way up to the national level, where CNN reported that the famous Hollywood sign could possibly be capped in the white stuff by Sunday’s Academy Awards. While most average Angelinos were at most curious about if it would snow or not, those in the hiking community were giddy, excitedly clearing their weekend schedule and preparing their hiking gear in anticipation of a snowy local traipse.

On Sunday, after the storm came and went, I met up with Michael, my friend and future Whitney hiking partner, and we headed up into the San Gabriel Mountains above Sierra Madre in hopes to see just how much snow Mt. Wilson received. I was excited to snowshoe for the first time in my life, even if there was just an inch of snow.

Michael and I arrived at Chantry Flat at 7:30am and began our 14-mile (round trip) trek up to Mt. Wilson. On Upper Winter Creek Trail, we saw small patches of snow, but it wasn’t until we reached the 4,800-foot level on the Manzanita Trail that we entered the obvious snowline. It was surreal to see the trail’s namesake shrubs, with their blood-red bark, covered in a spread of snow.

Michael holds the world's largest snowball on Mt. Wilson Toll Road. It looks like the road was plowed the day before our hike.

As I snowshoed through the pristine snow, I could see down into the Los Angeles Basin and beyond. The faint profile of Santa Barbara island was visible beyond the shimmering ocean. Snowshoeing with a view of the ocean in Southern California. How about that.

Below are photos and a video of our adventure:

Below you will find videos and photos from the 2009 hike, and for more information on the whos, wheres, and whatsits, check out my other site, 100hikes.com.

Video:

Photos:

Camping at Onion Valley (9,200 ft). The altitude kicked my ass on the first day, but I acclimated faster than expected. (I actually didn't think I'd acclimate much at all.)

Sisters Sam (left) and Nikki. Now entering the world-famous John Muir Wilderness, hiker's Disneyland!

A curious Clark's Nutcracker. A moment before this photo was taken, it was using it's long beak to crack open the nearby pine cones to get to the seeds.

Onion Valley looking southwest. Kearsarge Pass is in the distance, just behind the branches of the tree on the right.

Gilbert Lake with University Peak (13,632 ft elev.) in the background.

A good-sized trout in Gilbert Lake. The water was crystal clear.

We stopped at Gilbert Lake for lunch, a few miles into our hike and a little less than half-way to Kearsarge. (Flower Lake is the half way point between Onion Valley Campgrounds and Kearsarge Pass.)

A big freakin' rock!

Huffing it up the trail. We're at about 10,000 feet in elevation now and the pine trees are thinning out and being replaced by bristlecone pines.

Beautiful foliage.

Looking down on Flower Lake. It looks small only because I am high above it. The large granite boulder just below the lake in this photo is just as big as the boulder pictured earlier in this post.

Two backpackers head down into Onion Valley.

I'm hot, tired, and the altitude is making it very slow going. Some of our party have already turned around with symptoms of altitude sickness. At this point, I'm at about 11,000 feet in elevation.

Heart Lake. To give you an idea of the size of the lake, I've circled in orange a hiker along the shoreline.

Big Pothole Lake with a nameless peak in the background. I read that some climbers call it "The Finger of God."

At Kearsarge Pass (11,760 ft) looking down into the back side of Kings Canyon National Park. Seeing this view for the first time is a moment I'll never forget.

We headed back down as the sun was setting. This was taken at Gilbert Lake, where we took a brief break. Faster members of our party filtered some water and hid some bottles for us in the brush.

The last of the sunlight highlighted the jagged profile of University Peak.

We celebrated our fantastic day of hiking around a cozy campfire. Steak, macaroni & cheese, s'mores, and friends. It doesn't get any better than that.

We have none of these problems in Los Angeles. Sure, we get bad weather from time to time, bringing sheets of rain which lead to walls of mud rushing down canyons and through kitchens and family rooms of houses in the foothills, but nothing that requires me to grab anything more than a rain jacket or an umbrella before entering the maelstrom. Hikers in Los Angeles love heavy rains because they know that when the storm blows out of town, so goes the smog, leaving the air crisp and clean. In the winter months, the distant mountains seem to be within arm’s reach, capped with an icing of snow beckoning  snowboarders and skiers. Trails below the snowline are bustling with hikers (or rather, city folk who have escaped the asphalt jungle).

Some of the best views of Southern California have been witnessed after these heavy storms and this weekend was one of those special opportunities. We had heavy rains on Friday and Saturday, bringing spectacular weather on Sunday and Monday. I had missed out on hiking on Sunday, but luckily Monday was President’s Day and I made sure I was on a trail for the holiday.

For my hike up to Echo Mountain, I packed heavy camera gear in anticipation of a stunning sunset… and Mother Nature didn’t let me down. Check out the video and photos below!

Sunday's crisp post-storm air was replaced by a heavier sort. I was worried that it would hinder a good sunset, but I was wrong....

The light from the setting sun lit up the thick marine layer and burned it off.

Two hikers enjoy the light show from Echo Mountain.

These three were geniuses: they packed beer for the sunset viewing.

I was the last up at Echo Mountain. Although it isn't a tall mountain (3,207 ft), it did get cold quickly as the sun set. There were still patches of snow on the summit from Sunday's storm.

Last shot before heading home.

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Ice-cold water from Mt. Wilson

I have been living in the shadow of Mt. Wilson for almost a decade, its presence just as visible to residents of the San Gabriel Valley as the Eiffel Tower is to Parisians. When I walk out of my home, there it stands, just 10 miles to the north, crowned in radio towers and astronomic equipment like a giant tiara. So it’s a little surprising to me, self-proclaimed “Hike Guy,” that I had never hiked to the summit of Mt. Wilson until today.

It wouldn’t be my last time, though. For this year’s goals, I’ve resolved to summit this mountain by four different routes, ranging in distance from 12 to 18 miles. Today’s route was the shortest of the four, taking my friend Michael and I up to the top from Chantry Flats via the Winter Creek Trail. We started our journey at 8am. Or, more accurately, 8:20am after spending twenty minutes circling the small parking lot like a shark, looking for an early-morning hiker or mountain biker to leave.

I’ll tell the rest of the story in photo captions (below).

Mt. Wilson via Upper Winter Trail GPS Stats:

• Date of hike: January 15th, 2011
• Location: San Gabriel Mountains
• Length: 13.8 miles (included 1.0m of exploring the summit)
• Vertical gain/loss: 4,298ft/4,045ft
• Altitude min.max: 1,987ft/5,699ft

This map was made with the data my GPS captured on the hike.
For a more detailed trip report map, check this out.

A few miles into the 12 mile hike and we've reached a trail junction. We just came up a dozen or so switchbacks covering 1,000 feet of elevation in a mile. Here at this junction, we realize the toughest part is behind us.

The view of the mountains to the east - Mt. Baldy, Mt. Harwood & Thunder Mountain - were stunning!

This tree must have fallen within the last week or so, crashing right onto Mt. Wilson Road.

We reached the junction with the Mt. Wilson Trail and discovered a feast! A dozen Asian hikers had packed up a sushi pot luck. I asked permission for a photo.

After a ten minute break at the trail junction, Michael and I continued to climb. Mt. Wilson looked so close, but we still had 2 1/4 miles and about 1,300 feet elevation to climb.

A portion of the Mt. Wilson Road was closed, suggesting to us that we can only get to the top using the Mt. Wilson Trail. Although taking the trail was more of a direct route, the road offered an easier ascent up to the top. By the end of the ascent, I HATED this sign.

Still a little snow on the ground here, below the Cosmic Cafe (closed for the winter).

I'm not certain, but I think the toilets are closed as well.

The moon rising over the 60-foot solar telescope.

They placed this safety mirror in the same prominent place as some would place clocks.

Last time I was on Mt. Wilson, I was a teenager and drove up with my family. I had forgotten how cool it was to stand underneath such a famous old telescope.

My guess is that net hanging over the office next to the telescope was installed to catch any falling icicles that might form on the structure.

View down into the San Gabriel Valley from the deck of the Cosmic Cafe.

After walking a mile around the top of Mt. Wilson and Mt. Michelson, we headed towards the top of Mt. Wilson Road to see if we could hike down it. I listened to my iPod as we walked by the "Television Transmitter Area." My iPod started picking up weak radio signals, playing radio music over my iPod music. It was freaky.

Here's a view of the San Gabriel Mountain foothills, including San Gabriel Peak, Mt, Markham, Mt. Lowe, and Muir Peak.

The views were staggering. The snow-covered mountain to the left is San Gorgonio. The one to the right is Mt. San Jacinto and is 87-miles away as the crow flies!

A view downtown. I can't remember the last time I could see Santa Barbara Island from the San Gabriel Valley!!

.

Backpack… check.
Water… check.
First aid kit… check.
Journal… check!

I can’t picture myself hiking without packing my journal first.  I have hiked nearly one thousand trail miles since May 2009 and every step of the way, I had a journal in my pocket, ready to take out to jot down trail conditions, comment on the weather, or maybe sketch a nature sighting. They say that there are ten essential pieces of  gear that every hiker should bring with them in case of an emergency.  Items like food & water, a first-aid kit, a knife, and matches.  Those are all well and good, but I consider a journal to be the eleventh essential.  To me, forgetting a journal on a hike would be like forgetting to turn off the kitchen stove.  Without question, I’d drive home to retrieve it,  just as I would drive home to turn off the stove.

I’ve jokingly told people that if my apartment were to catch fire, you’d see me running out of building with just a bag full of my journals. Truth be told, I keep them in a drawer near the front door, just in case.

I normally write in just one journal a year, recording my annual international trip.  This was not the case for 2010.   Here are a few pages from the three journals I wrote in over the last 12 months. I guess I had a lot to write about.

All of them are a bit bloated with ephemera like beer labels, business cards, and park ticket stubs.

The Mission Statement. Words to live by for the year.

Sketching trail maps and adding my own notations worked towards pushing short-term memories into long-term storage, both physically (in the book) and mentally (in my brain). This is a theme I'll be mentioning often in these captions. I'd sketch the map either before or after the hike, depending on how much planning I did. If I drew the map well enough, I would use the sketch as my trail map (with a topo in my backpack, just in case.)

Another trail map along with a post-hike sketch of my friend, Casey, standing on Inspiration Point. The sketch was based on a photo I took during the hike. A camera is my twelfth essential hiking item.

2010 was the Year of the Mushroom for me. I became intensely curious about them and their life cycle. I never picked them or ate them, but enjoyed sketching or photographing them. The sketches on these pages of the different aspects of mushrooms were based on a mushroom guidebook, a heavy tome I didn't want to carry while hiking.

Finding feathers on a trail are a curiosity and a mystery. When I see one, I jump into the roll of a crime scene investigator. Where did the bird go? Was it attacked? If so, then by what? Did the feathers come out naturally as it flew overhead? Was the bird launched from a slingshot into a pig castle and this is all that remained?

These two sketches were drawn post hike and are based on photographs taken while on the hikes. Sketching a scene helps again with moving the hikes into my long-term memory through meaningful association.

Griffith Park in Los Angeles has a mess of trails running up and over its mountains. Again, drawing the trail map helped me learn the different routes.

Anywhere I see a rubber stamp being used, I ask for one in my journal. Post office stamps are difficult to get (top left) since usually only mail is stamped, but National Park stamps (bottom right) are out on the counter for anyone to use at park visitor centers.

If 2010 was the Year of the Mushroom for me, then 2009 was the Year of the Beetle. I still am quite fascinated by beetles and thought it would be helpful to have a sketch of a beetle's anatomical features. I copied this from a guidebook.

These bugs and plants were sketched while on the trail. I'd carry a small pocket magnifying loupe to study the details of interesting nature I'd find on a hike.

Here's a page from my New Zealand journal. The trail map was drawn differently than my usual map sketches whereas it is more of a mash-up of a trail map and a timeline. It shows small notations of conditions, nature sightings, or personal thoughts notated along a line representing the trail.

The cat-faced orb-weaver spider on the right was sketched at home using photos I took while backpacking in the Eastern Sierras. The seed pod on the right was sketched while on a trail. Trail sketches of mine tend to be fast and messy while compared to those I do at the comfort of my desk at home.

I went on a rainy day hike and met a California toad, the first I'd seen in the wild. Sketch worthy! Despite the rain, I would still whip out my journal to jot a few notes. Moleskines do a good job of holding ink, even while it's raining.

This page was transferred information from my New Zealand journal into my "500 Miles by 2010" journal. The page on the right is from my "timeline trail map" (shown earlier in this post) but written on a sketched map drawn more to scale.

In the back pages of each of my hiking journals, I kept very detailed lists of the hikes I completed, helping me keep track of the trail mileage towards my goal of reaching 500 miles.

I was also a little curious on how much I hiked during the year. Here I kept a tally of how many days during the year I hiked and camped.

To view more pages from my journals, check out this Flickr Collection.

The Modern Hiker (Casey Schreiner) on a hike up to Sandstone Peak in January, 2010

In January, after a week break from hiking, I ventured out to the Mojave National Preserve with some friends for a weekend of camping and exploring. I stayed close to home in February, hiking in the open areas of the Angeles National Forest, the exception being a day-trip down to the Cleveland National Forest late in the month.

March brought wildflowers and an annual trip out to the Antelope Valley California Poppy Preserve. April is a great month to explore California’s deserts before they get hot, and this year was no exception. Another group camping trip to the Mojave National Preserve was well worth the drive.

May was a big month of hiking, completing more miles in the month than February, March and April combined. The highlights included two back-to-back hikes to the “Bridge to Nowhere” in the mountains above Azusa, CA, and a week-long backpacking trip to southern Utah with my friends, Alyse & Remi, where we hiked the famed trails of The Subway, Angel’s Landing, and Buckskin Gulch. June brought me to the central coast of California (San Louis Obispo) on one trip and the Northern California coast and central Oregon on another.

The incredible canyon walls of Buckskin Gulch humble hikers who venture through it.

July would begin with a bang, bagging the personally-challenging Telescope Peak (in Death Valley National Park) for the second time, the first as a solo hike. A 4-day weekend in Kings Canyon & Sequoia National Park in August reminded me yet again how nice it is to live in California.

September‘s backpacking trip in the Eastern Sierras was a “successful failure.” A two-day overnighter in the mountains and my cooking stove was left at home by mistake. October was a wet month, yet I endured and did over 50 miles of local trails, crossing the 400-mile marker on October 24th.

I fell behind in my goal due to illness in November, only hiking a measly 3.1 miles in the first 20 days of the month. But I came back and came back strong, hiking one hundred miles in New Zealand on a 18-day north-to-south solo trip. 11 of those days were spent on some of the best trails in the world. I would hike my last miles of the year on my birthday, December 6th, giving me my first real “vacation” from hiking since May 2009.

The 500th Mile Club at Mackenzie Lake along the Routeburn Track in New Zealand

If my photo database is to be believed, I took 26,723 hiking-related photos in 2010. Having hiked on 97 days during the year – all with my camera(s) always in hand – I believe it. I spent my “vacation” from hiking looking through all of them to pick my very favorite photos. These images are links to strong memories I made throughout the year. Moments of beauty. Moments of struggle or triumph. Or moments of being in the right place at the right time with my lens cap off. I hope you enjoy them as much as I do.
(Click here to view the photos on Flickr.)