That last week.

Road walking. Not the sort of prospect that any PCT hiker or indeed any hiker relishes. It has some advantages, we didn't have to concentrate on navigation, didn't have to watch where we were stepping and had a few opportunities to grab a motel for the night and stop by a few cafes. It is, however, brutal on the feet and legs. The hard surface coupled with a repetitive pounding reduced my feet to a blister ridden and sore mess after just one day. It was like being back at the start, calves ached, tendons screamed and thighs complained, the pain leaching up to my back. Thank god for ibuprofen.

We left Sisters on 14th November for a mild 23 miles to Bend, which we had heard so many good things about. The outskirts had all three of us wondering if we had reached the right town, a bland mix of the usual out of town shops and parking areas. A local woman offered to walk us through all of this to the down town area, telling us she walks 24 miles a day to keep fit, the first 'townie' I have met who didn't assume we had a car and understood the distance in terms of foot placement and not sitting in an air conditioned cab.

Bend was indeed an attractive place and a few minutes after reaching it we had been offered a place to spend the night by a local carpenter called Kelly. He left to go out with a mate but insisted we make ourselves comfortable, got us some beer and showed us the local cafe. We tried to get out early the following morning but several coffee shops slowed our progress.

Somehow the weather held up. We peered up occasionally to see black clouds ambling past but save a couple of cold, snow sections and a few wet hours, we were blessed with reasonable weather. The roadside was littered with all manner of discarded objects. Lighters, mobile phones, urine filled bottles, shoes and clothing. Cars started to honk at us and before long we were reaching celebrity status. Word had spread about these 3 English guys, the last on the PCT of 2010 who had been stormed off the trail but had refused to give in to the elements. We all were insistent, stubborn and refused even for a minute to entertain the prospect of not reaching Crater Lake. The locals had spread the news and we regularly were greeted in cafes by comments such as 'You're the 3 English guys road walking to Crater Lake' or 'We saw you on the road this morning' or just 'You guys are nuts! What are you doing'?!

We stumbled into Lapine on 16th November after one of those days where despite best intentions, the mileage just didn't seem to want to increase. After 17 miles and nearly dark Chris and I sat down outside the gas station and discussed the options. Another 18 miles to Crescent and make up the mileage shortfall over the remaining few days, or check into the motel. Nick pretty much provided the answer as he emerged from the gas station with a beer in one hand and staggered towards us as though he had already drunk four of them. We chuckled at his painful shuffle as he collapsed on the grass in front of us muttering 'I'm finished'.

An early start the next day as we crunched on a frosty road over to the coffee hut. Denny, the woman who worked there gave us a coffee each with a banana muffin and phoned her husband, asking him to bring her 3 beanies which she had knitted and promptly gave us one each. This generous piece of kindness continued when we reached the Big Mountain Cafe at Chemult after 17 miles and good going by lunch. We wolfed down a late breakfast and chatted to the 4 or so couples also eating. The waiter came over just as we were finishing.

"Guys, your bill has been paid."

We all looked at him open mouthed and said in unison "Huh'?! Trying to keep our last mouthful in.

"I can't tell you who paid it because he didn't want to be known but he just wanted you to know that he was impressed by what you are doing, especially as he can't walk that far anymore and wanted to wish you all the best.'

27 miles enabled us to reach a Cafe and the Whispering Pines Motel shortly before dark and we settled in to discuss the apparent storm that most people had warned us was coming in overnight. Up to 3 feet was expected and whilst we were not worried about the road section because it was being ploughed, the section that concerned us was where we turned off  Highway 138 onto the Crater Lake Road. 'Closed in Winter' was marked by the side of this route on our map and we knew it would not be clear of snow. We just prayed the snowfall would be minimal and reminded ourselves that tomorrow would be our last day, albeit a 37 miler.

Nick peered hesitantly out of the door shortly before a very early and rude alarm at 4.45am woke us.

"Raining", he remarked. At this point we actually preferred snow. Although colder, it meant we didn't get wet. We started the 15 mile stretch to the Crater Lake road and before long a road reflecting it's surroundings began to turn white and slowly the snow started to deepen. We found the turn off and immediately began to trudge through fresh powder about a foot deep, but deepening as we climbed up to the Crater.

The view that greeted us at the top was stunning. A huge expanse of water 5 miles wide dressed in greys and whites had us open mouthed, it was magnificent and everything we had hoped for. The rim road, as it suggests, circles the lake and we turned west for the final few miles down to the highway, where I had left a few weeks prior with Pockets to skip up to Washington. The snow deepened alarmingly to the point where we didn't actually know if we were still on the road. Only a slither of tarmac occasionally peeping at us from one side confirmed we were still OK.

Nick encountered trouble in the middle of the afternoon when an old knee problem erupted with vengeance and his pace dropped substantially. It was dark now, we were all shattered and it was exhausting trying to concentrate on where the road was, where we were and making sure Nick got through. Chris and I took it in turns to lead so Nick could exert less effort by following out foot prints whilst the other behind him supplied some torch light as his had failed.

Trooper had agreed to pick us up at the highway as he had travelled up to see his daughter but we couldn't locate him so were forced to spend one more final night under the stars. Too tired to any major celebrations we cooked our last trail meal and fell asleep.

A passing ranger told us the following morning that he had seen Trooper looking for us the previous evening and passed on the message that he would be back. Sure enough a few minutes later Trooper, my walking companion for those last few difficult weeks in Washington rolled up as promised and joined in our high spirits as we drove to the nearest Greyhound station. Chris stayed for a day and one stop later in downtown Sacramento Nick and I said our goodbyes as he carried onto San Diego and I caught the next bus to my relatives in San Jose.

Now, after 2 day rest, I'm feeling relaxed and amazed at what I have achieved over the last 7 months. To persevere through the toughest battle I have ever faced I know has made me a stronger character and better able to face up to whatever life now has to offer me. The number of times when I thought I wouldn't make it are too numerous to go into but one thing I have confirmed to myself is that no matter how tough the PCT was in parts, I found the strength somehow to follow through and push my demons to one side.

It has been exhilarating. I have witnessed sights, scenes and views that had me amazed and routed to the spot in disbelief. Each section, whether it was the desert, the Sierras or the pine forests was incredible and will stay with me till my time is up. I have been cold, hot, stressed, relaxed, hungry, bloated, thirsty, sad, jubilant and elated.

Congratulations to all my fellow hikers who made the grade and finished. Congratulations also to those also who may have not have made it because whether they spent 1 week or a few months on the trail, they also achieved great success and I'm sure will return stronger, more wise and more able to attempt their next PCT effort.

For those of you out there who are thinking about attempting the PCT I would say that the hardest part of any thru-hike is reaching the decision to actually go and attempt it. Once you are committed you will wonder why you didn't go for it a long time ago. Second to that, remember it may be your body that carries you, but it's your pshycological approach and strength that will enable you to succeed. Do not give up despite how adverse your situation may be.

Good luck to you.