Yes, this was achieved in San Francisco on Pier 39.

Perhaps the proudest moment of my life.

The variety we’ve experienced on this trip has been incredible. For example, when we woke up in Sequoia National Forrest at about 7,000 feet on Thursday morning it was 26˚ and our tent was covered with ice. By 1:00 PM later that day, we were playing frisbee in 70˚ weather by a beach along the coastline at about 30 feet above sea level. There’s a ton of other crazy extremes that we’ve survived (such as bean tacos at a beefless taco bell to eating sword fish steaks along the coastline at Nepenthe).

Now we’re up against our craziest extreme yet - readapting to city life. So far the transition has been fairly smooth with only a few rough edges (i.e., all our clothes smell like firewood and we still eat without using our hands). Wish us luck.

Also: be prepared for the the most awesomest facekick in history coming soon…

Danny face-kicks Matt in style.

Matt face-kicks Paul on Moro rock… nothing like a face-kick with a view!

Brad gets face-kicked by myself at the world’s third largest tree…

Okay, so Cali has done everything right so far, with one glaring exception.

WHAT IS THE DEAL WITH THE SIGNS? WILL YOU AT LEAST MAKE AN ATTEMPT AT LESS AMBIGUITY? PLZ K THX…

Chuck Norris Hiking is all about face kicks… here’s one for you:

So far California has been awesome… I never thought that Colorado would lose it’s  position as “Mark’s officially favorite state” but California is probably going to dethrone it. Everything here is almost too perfect… the cities are clean & beautiful, and the people are very friendly. The food is awesome… and best of all the terrain is absolutely incredible. There doesn’t seem to be any weeds or bugs, just beautiful landscapes. And there is definitely NO red mud (there are some pretty awesome red trees though, and grapes).  I can understand why one could become a “tree hugger” in this state. As far as tree hugging goes… I was surprised to see a lot of this:

In some ways California has been exactly what I expected and in some ways not. From what we’ve seen so far, California is not nearly as “scary” as it has been made to sound down south… I’m sure that there are some messed up people out here, but their are messed up people everywhere… people are people. California is definitely not a state you want to miss out on just because of some silly stereotypes. I’m glad we’re here.

For those of you who use Facebook we’ve uploaded some pictures to our group
The Chuck Norris Scenic Memorial Hike. For those of you who do not have Facebook, you should, and you can check out our pictures here.

So we completed our 6-mile hike through Tuolumne Meadows, a voyage filled with spectacular sights and sounds and much gloriosity. When we finally arrived at our campsite at what seemed like 2 in the morning, we found an abandoned site with padlocked bear cannisters and half-constructed building. But it was right beside a gorgeous waterfall that would provide exactly the background noise needed to “mat down” successfully. So after scouring the campsite itself (appx. an extra 12 miles of nighttime hiking) for more signs of life and perhaps finding some, we returned to the original spot and produced fire. We laid down the tarp and soon unfurled our bags and slept—or perhaps become temporarily frozen in the sub-30 temps during the night. Did I mention we chose not to bring a tent that night, and that bears are known to roam that area since not many people take this trail at this time of year?

So not too surprisingly, I woke up with one of my patented sore-throat head colds and prepared for the return journey (6 miles, remember). After grubbing some granola and Snickers and attempting to snarf down some water (which for some reason hurts like the dickens when I have a cold), I headed out with the others for more pristine views and incredibly breathtaking panoramas. After a couple miles we took a break on a bright white dome situated right beside a rolling brook with snow-capped mountains in the background. Upon completing a much-needed nap, I noticed that Danny, Mark and Paul had trekked to the top of said dome while Matt remained motionless and possibly dead a few feet away.

At this time my energy levels were surprisingly high, so I needed to take advantage of the situation. I took off on a solo mission the rest of the way, and I have to say that experiencing Yosemite for at least a while by one’s self is an experience to be savored. With so few people on the trail, much time was spent solely between nature and myself, and once again I was rendered awestruck by God’s artistry—although our group has been a bit suspicious so far by the utter lack of weeds and red clay that tends to mar our side of the country. Everything in California seems to be perfectly groomed at all times. It’s really weird actually, as if we’ve passed into the garden of Eden by taking a wrong left turn somewhere.

When I finally reached the last half mile of the trail, my legs were staging an open rebellion against the rest of me, and I could not fight back in kind. I kept repeating the mantra “one foot in front of the other” as I hovered back towards our van. When I arrived I immediately replaced my boots with sandals and drove to the nearby general store. Remember how I’m still sick and stuff? I needed Sprite, and I needed it more than air. I picked up some drugs too and did what I had to do. When I drove back the other four were just arriving, so I was spared their wrath—not that wrath isn’t a price worth paying lymon-flavored carbon water.