“In the well-written, laugh-out-loud, self-deprecating spirit of Bill Bryson’s  A Walk In the Woods  and Nora Ephron’s  When Harry Met Sally , Dan White takes us along for a walk on the wild side of adventure and love. I couldn’t put it down.” —Eric Blehm, National Outdoor Book Award-winning author of The Last Season When Dan White and his girlfriend Melissa set out to hike the Pacific Crest Trail, which stretches from Mexico to Canada through boiling desert and snowcapped mountain passes, his parents wondered how two people who had never shared an apartment could survive in a tent in the desert. But when Dan and Melissa, dubbed “The Lois and Clark Expedition” by a fellow hiker, quit their doldrum jobs to set out into the wilderness, the hardships of the trail provided these addled adventurers with a crystalline view of the American wilderness, themselves, and each other. In his wickedly funny memoir, Dan White also shares the story of Warren Rogers, who risked ruin to chart the trail during the Great Depression. As he walks in Rogers’ footsteps, he starts to wonder if he’s assumed the man’s bravery—or his insanity. Both hilarious and harrowing, this account of a young couple's hike along the 2,650-mile Pacific Crest Trail is a testament to the power of nature to change us and the power of love to get us through the uphill climbs. “It is a funny, frequently harrowing, and altogether mesmerizing memoir about just how wrong a backpacking expedition can go….‘The Cactus Eaters’ is far more than a Sierra Club-approved romp. It’s gorp for the soul, a fascinating and surprisingly moving testament to the call of the wild.” - Steve Almond, Boston Globe “Drawing on diaries he kept at the time, White polishes up these memories, serving them forth with brio and dash…[The Cactus Eaters] brings a fresh perspective to the timeworn adventure-travel genre.” - Kirkus Reviews “In the well-written, laugh-out-loud, self-deprecating spirit of Bill Bryson’s A Walk In The Woods and Nora Ephron’s When Harry Met Sally, Dan White takes us along for a walk on the wild side of adventure and love. I could not put it down.” - Eric Blehm, National Outdoor Book Award-winning author of THE LAST SEASON. “Dan White forges miles past travelogue to carve a poignant, uproarious, and deeply compelling love story between man, woman, and the land between. The Cactus Eaters is as impressive and enjoyable as the ground it covers.” - Franz Wisner, NY Times Bestselling Author of Honeymoon with My Brother The Pacific Crest Trail stretches from Mexico to Canada, a distance of 2,650 grueling, sun-scorched, bear-infested miles. When Dan White and his girlfriend announced their intention to hike it, Dan's parents—among others—thought they were nuts. How could two people who'd never even shared an apartment together survive six months in the desert with little more than a two-person tent and some trail mix? But when these addled adventurers, dubbed "the Lois and Clark Expedition" by their benevolent trail-guru, set out for the American wilderness, the hardships of the trail—and one delicious-looking cactus—test the limits of love and sanity. Dan White is a journalist and author whose work has appeared in the New York Times , the Los Angeles Times , and Backpacker magazine. He received his MFA from Columbia University, and he lives in the San Francisco Bay Area. The Cactus Eaters How I Lost My Mind?and Almost Found Myself?on the Pacific Crest Trail By Dan White HarperCollins Publishers, Inc. Copyright © 2008 Dan White All right reserved. ISBN: 9780061376931 Chapter One Hot Teeth It's 9:00 A.M. in the southern edge of the Sierra Nevada, eighty-five degrees and rising. The water in our bottles is almost gone, but I don't panic. I suck my tongue. I lick my hot teeth. Allison, my girlfriend, stirs in her sleeping bag. She wakes up slowly, stretching her arms to the tent's nylon roof. From the way she smiles at me, you'd never know we're in crisis mode again. Yesterday, our unbreakable leakproof water bag broke and leaked all over my $385 Gregory Robson backpack. We've been rationing for fourteen hours now. I take a deep breath, try to stay calm, and smile back at her as best I can. Our love is still strong, in spite of the fact that Allison's hair is shagging into her eyes this morning, making her look like a yak, and in spite of the fact that we haven't had sex in God knows how long. I emerge from our tent on my hands and knees and shake my boots for scorpions. There are none this morning. My socks are brown and hard and smell like ham. I put them on anyway. Allison puts on hers. "Cowboy up," she says. She has splotches of dirt all over her body. I'm not looking so great, either. After 178.3 miles and 2 ½ weeks of this journey to the north, my shirt rots on my back. Pig bristles sprout from my chin. We dust ourselves off and load our stuff into our backpacks. I walk out into the dry heat with Allison, my back pain, and the little b