Zero Days. Barbara Egbert

      FOREWORD

      IN MAY, just as the summer heat begins to soar, they arrive, dusty from the trail and ravenous. Their shoes are worn and their clothing tells the tale of life in the rugged southern California mountains and deserts, caked with dirt and salt. They’ve hiked hundreds of miles to get here. Up the road and in the gate they come, seeking rejuvenation and respite from the trail. For them, we open our hostel door and hearts. Ours is a place where hikers take zero days.

      Driven by dreams and desires to experience something that is difficult to convey to the uninitiated, most who come through our gates are seeking the same goal: to walk the entire length of the 2,650-mile Pacific Crest Trail from Mexico to Canada. Many will make sacrifices to take this journey, and many will suffer bodily and mentally to reach the trail’s northern terminus. Obstacles and challenges will be presented to all. The trail will humble and elate them, luring them onward with the invitation to see what is around the next bend or mountain. Hundreds will start out, but only the luckiest and most determined will make it. A handful return again and again, finding their truest happiness in the rugged simplicity of trail life.

      The Pacific Crest Trail’s remoteness and the wildness of the lands it passes through make hiking it in one season a daunting endeavor. The timing of the season is dependent on snow and weather, limiting the typical season to five or six months. Those who intend to complete the trail must carry food, gear, and supplies across mountains and deserts and through rivers and streams. In the long, dry reaches, they must add to their burden the weight of precious water. They endure insects, physical discomfort, and extremes of temperature. Feet and muscles rebel. No bed or hot shower will wait at the end of each day, and a week or more may pass before resupply opportunities. Proper equipment, logistical planning, and preparation are required. So are the rarest of all gifts: good health and free time. It is a determined and fortunate group of individuals that attempts this lengthy trek.

      Stereotyping these seemingly unemployed bohemians is a fruitless endeavor. They may be world-class or first-time adventurers. You’ll find grandmas, construction workers, veterinarians, airline pilots, lawyers, waitresses, and firefighters. Liberal doses of musicians, writers, and engineers walk alongside college students and retirees, from trail-wise veterans who’ve walked tens of thousands of miles to high schoolers on a lark. Couples, relations of all combinations, or simply single and on their own, each hiker may have a home and family who provide support, or may be alone and homeless for the duration of the hike.

      The trail is the Great Equalizer, removing all vestiges of status, wealth, or occupation, giving each the appearance of a vagabond traveler, the vocation to which they seemingly aspire despite their diverse economic backgrounds and points of origin. What one does, drives, or possesses is meaningless and invisible, as the trail cares nothing for such things and exposes the inner character of each soul to its owner.

      This great river of humanity flows through the doors of our trail retreat, Hiker Heaven. Since the first hosting of thru-hikers in 1997, thousands of them have found respite here on their way north and south.

      In this sea of hikers who have stopped at our hostel, the rarest sight of all is a family as defined by mother, father, and child. Many families may hike and camp together, but precious few of them thru-hike.

      The reasons families don’t attempt thru-hiking are evident in all that is said above; it is rigorous and rife with challenge. As much as the hardships and shared passion can forge social bonds, it can also break them. Relationships both begin and end on the trail because of the shared difficulties encountered. Life on the trail is definitely not for everyone, so an entire family that possesses the dream, motivation, and fortitude to attempt such a feat is uncommon, even in this community of uncommon individuals.

      Thru-hiking young children are rarer still. Few children would be willing to forgo every imaginable creature comfort, be separated from friends, and muster the courage and perseverance to walk 2,650 miles for fun. An unwilling child dragged along on such a journey is a formula for a nightmare.

      The uncommonness of the thru-hiking family isn’t the only thing that sets Nellie Bly, Captain Bligh, and Scrambler apart, however. Their love, support, protection, and encouragement of one another through their hiking joys and travails are inspirational. They survived the challenges as a unit rather than merely individuals, which requires the additional aspects of compromise and cooperation. They were a team of problem-solvers, cheerleaders, and doers for their common cause.

      Barbara and Gary (before they were Nellie Bly and Captain Bligh) gave their daughter, Mary, a precious gift. They introduced her to the wonders of the backcountry. They painstakingly cultivated skills and sought to bring enjoyment to backpacking for their child, always with safety paramount. The result is amazing. At age 10, Scrambler was the youngest child ever to complete the Pacific Crest Trail in a single hiking season. That amazing record still stands.

      Amazing is the word for Scrambler. She not only hiked the 2,650 miles, she hopped, skipped, read, and still had time to play. Wanted to play, after grueling days of hiking up and down mountains! At 10, Scrambler could hold court with adult thru-hikers on any topic related to the trail. Though she for all the world played and behaved like the child she was, peering into her eyes, one encountered the depth of a soul who had trod many miles, learned many lessons, and absorbed the beauty of the places wandered.

      What follows