Odd trail couple: Dad, daughter sharing bugs, blisters and beauty of Pacific Crest Trail

After 20 years of going out on search-and- rescue missions, Kem Russell of Selah, Washington, has plenty of experience in finding lost hikers. Now, in a way, Russell and his youngest daughter, Karra, are out on a hike to find themselves.

On April 20, Kem, 66, and 26-year-old Karra set out on foot from the California-Mexico border in the hilly desert of eastern San Diego County, beginning what they plan to be a 41/2-month, 2,650-mile thru-hike of the Pacific Crest Trail.

And before you wonder: NO, this wasn’t some sudden burst of gotta-do-the-PCT inspired by seeing “Wild,” the Reese Witherspoon movie based on Cheryl Strayed’s bestselling memoir.

“We’ve been researching for more than a year,” and planning longer than that, said Kem, a mechanical engineer at Doubl-Kold, an industrial refrigeration company in Yakima. “We’ve thought about it for a long time, because we’ve done several sections and thought it would be awesome to do the whole thing,” he added before departing.

The two had already hiked all but 50 miles of the PCT’s route through Washington. They attended 2014’s “Annual Day Zero PCT Kick Off “ event, not far from the border, to listen to the lectures, look at the gear, talk to past thru-hikers and get a better feel for the mindset it takes to hike 20-plus miles day after day after day.

“You get to be in the wilderness for weeks at a time without all the things that affect people, affect who you are,” said Karra, who completed her degree in associative science and medical billing/coding from Yakima Valley Community College in December.

“You get to find out who you are – really – when you’re by yourself for months, pushing the limits physically and mentally.”

If 135 or so days of hiking sounds long, that’s nothing compared with how much time, effort and thought went into their logistical preparation.

They researched exhaustively, gleaning insights from past through-hikers’ journals, the Pacific Crest Trail Association, blogs on the Postholer.com site and how-to breakdowns like Yogi’s Pacific Crest Trail Handbook.

They planned every day to the tiniest detail – starting with what they’d eat. Each meal was packed, its freeze-dried or hard-packed components meticulously organized into the “care packages” Kem’s wife, Ann, or one of their six other grown children are mailing by prearranged schedule to 26 general-delivery post offices along the trail.

Each day has been plotted out, although Kem knew from the start that there would be adjustments as they traveled.

But before they started he’d prepared a spreadsheet showing how far they’d hike, how much elevation gain and loss they’d encounter, what they’d eat at each meal and where they’d camp for the night.

They knew which days they’d need to carry extra water because of stretches where there’s no water along the trail. They knew where they’re likely to find “PCT trail angels,” altruistic folks who live along the route and go out of their way to help thru-hikers.

They knew about avoiding poodle-dog bush, a pretty but toxic flowering plant that can cause poison ivy-like itching and flourishes following wildfires – which they’re also watching out for.

Said Kem before they left, “We’re about as prepared as I think we can get.”

They’d done so much planning that finally hitting the trail would come as a relief.

“I think we’d just like to get on the trail so we can relax,” Kem said a week before starting. “We won’t have to worry about packing food, or doing work, or any of all this other planning stuff. We’ll just be out there enjoying ourselves, meditating while we’re walking.”

But what about family discord: a father and a daughter, spending four months of days hiking together and night crammed together in a tent? Doesn’t that sound like a recipe for disaster?

“That’s the No. 1 reason why I demanded to have my own tent,” Karra laughed. “So I can at least have my alone-time at night in my own tent – instead of him snoring and having to crawl over me to get out.”

Snoring? Won’t she be able to hear that through two thin tent walls?

“It usually doesn’t bother me because I’m so exhausted I can sleep through anything,” she said. “We’ve gone on hikes together that were a week long.”

But this will be four months – through wild country. Any worries?

“I just read a fact sheet on the awful things people worry about,” Karra said. “The last girl who was killed by a bear was, like, 1974, and the last person who was killed by a mountain lion (on the PCT) was never, and the last person to be murdered on the PCT was also never.”

“So being on the PCT,” interjected Karra’s mom, Ann, “is probably safer than being in town.”

Safer, maybe; more challenging, absolutely. When family and friends threw a surprise pre-hike gathering for Kem and Karra, one of the most entertaining party favors was a stack of Post-It-sized notes with factoids about PCT thru-hikes.

“This one says fewer people have thru-hiked the PCT than have climbed Mount Everest. Isn’t that crazy?” Karra said, leafing through the notes. “This one says those who complete the through-hike will have climbed up to 428,011 feet and descended 426,480 feet. That’s the equivalent of almost 15 ascents of Everest – from sea level.”

While the number of people who attempt the PCT through-hike has increased from 300 a decade ago to more than 1,000 last year – and even more anticipated this year because of the “Wild” movie – fewer than half complete the trek.

The Russells plan to be in that successful minority.

Both father and daughter are on the shorter side, each wiry and athletic. They’re carrying packs – Kem’s probably averaging 35 to 40 pounds, Karra perhaps 25 to 35 – while hiking 17 to 25 miles most days. That could change as they become more trail hardened. They know maintaining their body weight and energy will be critical.

“That’s why I’m eating 3,500 to 4,000 calories a day,” Karra said. “We’ll pretty much just be constantly eating,” she added, noting that they planned three daily meals, two in-between-meal snacks and a post-dinner dessert.

They know they’ll get tired enough of freeze-dried meals that their “zero (mile) days” – the weekly-or-so R&R breaks at motels for the luxury of hot showers and comfortable beds – will also be an opportunity to pig out on real food.

“It’s not going to be pizzas, milkshakes and Snickers bars,” Karra said. “More like, eat as many fruits and vegetables as we can, because we can’t have that all week on the trail. A lot of people like to have a big salad when they hit town because they miss that. I think your body ends up craving the nutrients.”

They were emotionally weather-proofed before starting the PCT. On a six-day, 126-mile Rainy Pass-to-Stevens Pass hike last year, they slogged through three straight days of rain.

They know they’ll get rain over the next 41/2 months. (They’ve already had snow.) Days of hot sun and bugs. No wind when the heat is stultifying. Wind when it’s cold. Sleepless nights. And, of course, long days full of miles.

“Hiking is like 80 percent mental and 20 percent physical,” Karra said. “There’s been days where your feet are hurting you so bad but you’re still hiking eight hours, even when you want to cry they hurt so bad. That’s pure mental.

“It’s all about pushing yourself. And finding peace. Serenity.”

Outdoors editor Rich Landers contributed to this story.