Over the Rivers
and Into the Woods

A book about walking from Mexico to Canada along the Pacific Crest Trail: 2,700 miles, five months, endless wildfires, record-level snow, and treacherous river crossings. Undertaken by a complete noob.

Cover of Over the Rivers and Into the Woods with an orange ribbon, shadowy hiker in the beginning and mountainous landcape.

What this book is

Over the Rivers and Into the Woods is written in English by Cedar Schimke. The paperback edition will be published under the imprint Over the Rivers on February 5, 2027. The book is 400 pages, including original illustrations by the author and beautiful cover artwork by artist David Witt. ISBN 979-8-9976396-0-0.The story is a day-by-day, trail-journal-style account of thru-hiking the Pacific Crest Trail by a first-time long-distance hiker. It is funny and sincere, irreverent about the human experience while deeply reverent of the landscapes that shape it.The story unfolds much as the experience of learning to move across a landscape unfolded for the author. It was handwritten in a paper notebook while on trail, with additional details added later to the manuscript.

Excerpt

Kennedy Meadows South (702) to 722
Pacific Crest Trail Thru-Hike: Day 41
It doesn’t take long for me to fall behind the pack, as usual. I can feel the weight of my load bearing on my joints with every step. My legs, my back, my shoulders are strong, but it gives me a noticeable level of instability and repeated, pounding shock to my knees and hips. I make it almost two miles when I have to take a break, and here we go again. I can’t keep up. I’m behind, and everyone will be waiting for me.Except, just as I’m starting to look for a place to stop in earnest, I hear voices. I come around a bend and there they are. Everyone is exasperated but in good spirits, laughing over the impossibility of how heavy and overloaded and uncomfortable our packs are. Smiles all around when Alex and I walk up. I wonder how many times this cycle will repeat itself before I stop running the narrative that I’m alone in my suffering.I don’t let the break last long. The trail leads across a beautiful bridge on the Kern River and then up into exposed mountain desert. There’s what looks like a school group getting a lesson in backpacking under the shade of a tree, and I want them to take me seriously despite my ridiculous pack, so I hike hard past them.The trail is heading up, and up is hard. It’s hot and we’re getting to altitude. The sun is strong. Our packs are too big, too heavy, and we know it. Ankles are rolling, barely slanted hills are cause for loss of balance, but we’re out here now and there’s nothing that can be done about it, so we strengthen our resolve and push on. Up, up, up, up. We are climbing into the mountains, the real mountains. Up, up, up. I push on.There is a plateau at the top, and it is very quiet. Just a quiet, completely flat plateau on the top of the climb, sheltered on a few sides, with trees and wildflowers all around. It has the feeling of a secret garden, and I’m thrilled for a bit of respite from the climbing.I keep walking, and the trail heads down. Just a bit. The forest floor is gray and gravelly, but there are lots of trees providing shade. I’m pretty fast going downhill, and I feel great!Then, like a curtain pulling back to start the show, the trees part, and I walk into the Sierra Nevada mountains. A green, lush valley stretches out onto the horizon, except the horizon shoots upward into the sky with 14,000-foot snow-capped peaks. Winding through the meadow is a cold, clear burbling stream, critters hopping and flitting and flying, colorful wildflowers and silence, save for the birds chirping. Colten and Sam are sitting beside the stream, and I join them. Not a cloud in the sky, sun shining, mountains. Rest. Peace.It’s at the stream, just before another several-thousand-foot climb, that Sam foreshadows the rest of our day.“We should get mosquito repellent the next time we’re in town. We’re lucky they haven’t been bad yet, but when they are, they’ll come on all at once.”Good idea. I make a mental note of it.And spend the next six hours cursing Sam for ever bringing it up.

About the pre-order

Over the Rivers and Into the Woods is being released as a paperback edition and is currently available for pre-order ahead of printing. The manuscript is complete, and final design and production are underway.Pre-orders allow copies to be printed and shipped once production is complete. Readers who pre-order will receive updates as the release date approaches (scheduled for February 5, 2027).

Thru-hiking socks hung on trekking poles to dry on the Pacific Crest Trail in the Cascade Mountains of Northern Washington

Pre-order the book

Paperback edition of Over the Rivers and Into the Woods, printed and shipped upon release.
Pre-order Price: $24 + Shipping
Release Date: February 5, 2027

Pre-orders are for individual copies. For bulk orders (5 or more), please email [email protected] for wholesale pricing.
International readers: please email [email protected] to arrange shipping.

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About the Author

Cedar Schimke is a writer and carpenter raised in Minneapolis and based between Lake Superior and the Alps of Northern Italy.

© 2026 Cedar Schimke
All photography credits belong to the delightful and talented Arianna Skoog

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