After thirty years of excuses, I think I had better get this book published. After all, an account of pioneering the Pacific Crest National Scenic Trail by taking a family—with children age eight, ten, and twelve—by riding horseback through 2,500 wilderness miles from Mexico to Canada, must have some meaning.

We were the first, and may be the last, or only, horsemen to do it. The year following our finish, Dave Odell, Wayne Martin, Bill Goddard and Toby Heaton, were the first to backpack the complete route. Even more amazing was that they accomplished this in one season. Today, what with the upgrading of trail tread, relocation to solve access problems, and improved signing, I am still in wonder that this incredible feat has been matched by others, many times over. But, no other horse packers have followed our hoofprints from end to end. With regulation upon regulation being published that limit the use of horses in U.S. Forest Service Wilderness areas, the lifestyle we lived those nine months on the trail, truly has become something out of the past.

So what was the problem sharing our experiences with others? I used the sharpening pencil routine, along with ripping paper out of a typewriter quite some time ago. Beyond that, as a pioneer in the desktop publishing revolution, I have gone from from having people type my manuscripts to, in effect, keyboarding other people's work. I even have a software program that kerects [corrects] my missteaks [mistakes] as they happen, as well as a way to enhance and print the pictures on pages where that event happened.

It's not a matter of energy. For three grueling years I was editor and publisher—and designer, photographer, typesetter—for a regional business magazine, Economic Currents, sponsored by the Columbia River Economic Development Council. In this endeavor I always seemed to be behind the publication schedule. But, when it became an absolute necessity, I could sit down and write a lead article inside of a 24-hour marathon.

Perhaps the real reason I procrastinated so producing this book was a feeling that my 'adventure of a lifetime' would truly be over when the the words "The End," were printed. I often look back in my mind to a happy moment on the trail—something that happened a quarter of a century ago—and wish I was still be astride Charlie Horse, whistling as we plodded ever northward. All it takes is a smell, or sound, or word, and there I am; young, bronzed, lean, fit, unafraid. These reveries are usually ended with the realization that yes, that part of my life has been lived, and nothing since then has even been then same.