“I only went out for a walk and finally concluded to stay out till sundown, for going out, I found, was really going in.”
John Muir
Pursuing “Today’s Tom Sawyer”
My passion began with drives along Highway 395 from Southern California to the Eastern Sierra. As a kid, I was entranced by the picturesque country of the Mojave and the proceeding growth of the Sierra Nevada spires from the high desert. I knew, someday, I would find my way deep into this backcountry.
Soon enough, I was reading a Bible-sized copy of John Muir’s adventures and beginning my own on-trail and off-trail escapades into the Sierra. I saw no better way to explore the American west than on my own two feet, and I set my sights on the Pacific Crest Trail. In 2021, I hiked my way through the wildernesses of California, Oregon, and Washington from Mexico to Canada — some 2,700 miles. Snapshots of the transformative landscape became engrained in my person and have inspired further adventures in the American backcountries.
The PCT left me yearning for more remoteness. In 2023, after graduating college, I hiked 2,900 miles from Mexico to Canada through New Mexico, Colorado, Wyoming, Idaho, and Montana along the Continental Divide Trail. America’s interior mountains of and near the divide are one of greatest loves, and I undoubtedly will find myself hiking a version of the CDT again.
Behind the Trail Name
“Zeppelin”
I arrived solo to Grumpy Bear’s Retreat matted with dust from the 140-mile, wind-swept stretch from Tehachapi to Kennedy Meadows. One truly appreciates the spoiled luxury of a hot shower after a week in the backcountry. It can lift a hiker’s spirits – and hair! Over a night’s dinner in the rustic ambiance of the saloon, Pilot – an older hiker with some refined taste in rock – greeted me with “Hey Robert Plant!” in admiration of my curly hair. Over a committee of hikers, I was assigned my trail name – Zeppelin – in honor of the greatest quartet of rock. I want to believe the jukebox was playing the song “Bring It on Home” as I was bestowed, but my partial brain is probably writing a figment.
“Freak on a Leash”
At New Mexico’s Ghost Ranch, snow and a river crossing rightfully turned hikers away 90 miles from the Colorado border. My intentions were clear: I was continuing north. Hikers ahead already knew of Zeppelin and were assigning me a new name. “Where’s that freak,” I overheard from a couple loud, oblivious hikers who promptly skirted off after catching a glimpse of me hogging down a store-bought sandwich at the visitor center. The trail name “Freak” grew on me, especially since I admire Tim Lincecum. I did continue north from Ghost Ranch, only to head backwards into Santa Fe to appropriately gear for the 600 miles of snow that lie ahead in Colorado. I am not purely freakish – there is some amount of analysis behind my pursuits. In honor of Korn’s hit song and since I was “safety harnessed” as a toddler by my mother, I appended to my CDT trail name: Freak on a Leash.