Over tens of thousands of miles, Billy Goat has developed a Zen-like asceticism in which life is reduced to one dimension, a straight line toward an ever-receding goal.
"The reason people fail is they start dreaming of home," he said. "They think about how nice a bed is. How nice a bathtub is. Wouldn't it be great to have hot water? Home is wind-free, dust-free, ant-free. You meet people on the trail who say, 'I haven't had a shower in days.' If that's so important, why are you out here?"
Billy Goat has learned a great many things living outdoors. How to find water where there seemingly is none. How to utilize a cluster of boulders to hang food overnight out of the reach of bears. How to navigate using a compass and map -- a dying art in a world of global positioning devices, which Billy Goat would no sooner carry into the woods than he would a bowling ball.
He is obsessed with shedding every last unneeded ounce, a passion common among ultra-long-distance hikers. He carries one spoon; who needs a fork? Why lug a fancy Swiss Army knife when a simple paring knife will do? He has an expensive lightweight backpack and a high-quality down jacket and sleeping bag. He goes through four pairs of trail shoes a year -- boots are too heavy. He doesn't bother carrying extra socks or underwear.
When traveling between trail heads, he'd rather sleep in his car -- a battered 1990 Toyota Tercel dubbed the Goatmobile -- than a motel.
"The more you hike, the less you need," he said. "You find out you don't need a big first aid kit. I carry just some moleskin and a bandanna. . . . People always say, 'What if? What if? What if?' I don't think we should be too consumed with what-ifs. . . . I'd be more afraid of what I'd encounter on the streets of L.A."
It's a philosophy he freely shares with younger hikers. Given his age, almost all of them are.
Claire Porter, a 26-year-old from Minnesota, started out on the Pacific Crest Trail in early April with a friend who was forced to drop out because of a back injury. She pushed on and intends to finish her first hike-through before the snow falls.
She ran into Billy Goat near a mountain pass where the PCT transitions from the desert into the high country.
The two hiked together and shared a camp near a stream.
As the sun set, they talked strategy: the merits of crampons versus an ice ax in the snow up ahead. Whether a tent was needed at points up the trail. How much equipment was necessary.
