As second-year medical students Kevin Elias and Joshua Bress climbed the switchbacks up to a snow covered pass on the Pacific Crest Trail, snowflakes began fluttering down on them. When they neared the top of the Forester Pass, the highest point on the trail, the peaceful white flurry began rattling with thunder--a snow/thunderstorm. And it was too late to turn back.

The team forged on, hoping for better weather on the other side of the pass. That hope quickly faded with the sight of other hikers running down the mountain.

Lightning began striking all around them, and Bress and Elias, who were holding metal hiking poles, were forced to run for their lives.

"Running in snow proved a difficult task," Bress said with notable understatement. "We were falling in up to our chests. For nearly two hours we were pelted with snow, hail and rain. After running for six miles, we hit trees again and were happy to have survived uninjured.

"It was a long time before we could laugh about

that story."

Back in Nashville, Bress and Elias are laughing again at some of the scenarios they faced during their summer journey. The students hiked 1,723 miles along the Pacific Crest Trail. It was an 80-day testament of their dedication to HIV/AIDS awareness.

  "Domestic AIDS seems to have fallen off the radar," said Bress. "I thought, I'll walk the map if that's what it takes to put it back on the map."

Bress and Elias founded Hike for HIV, a campaign aimed at raising awareness and funds for Nashville CARES, Tennessee's leading community-based AIDS service organization. [After the students hiked this summer, they served as the first participants in the annual AIDS Walk, which was held Oct. 9.]

"The Nashville AIDS Walk was a huge success, and we met every goal we initiated," Elias said. "We raised money, motivated walkers, and generated publicity and awareness for HIV/AIDS."

But that's not to say it was an easy feat.

The Pacific Coast Trail zigzags for 2,650 miles from Mexico to Canada, and passes through six of seven of North America's eco-zones, including high and low desert, old-growth forest and arctic-alpine country. Bress and Elias hiked 1,723 miles of the trail, beginning in Southern California and ending up near the Oregon border.

Throughout the hike, nature proved to be the most ominous factor. The students bore the desert heat and survived freezing temperatures in altitudes reaching 14,000 feet. They also managed to avoid conflict with the natural world they were living in.

"Wildlife teemed around us," Elias said. "We saw deer, black bears, hawks and falcons. Marmots followed us all over the High Sierras and dozens of varieties of lizards scurried underfoot in the deserts. Field mice, shrews and moles bounded among the forests, while the chaparral quivered with the pace of jackrabbits and hares. Hummingbirds, butterflies, dragonflies and thousands of bees buzzed around us in fields splashed with wildflowers."

But there were also some real pests. Bress and Elias said at times were nearly eaten alive by biting flies

and mosquitoes.

And there was the bear that ate their lunch.

"We were dumbfounded," Elias said. "Conventional wisdom said that bears weren't really a problem that far south."

Unfortunately, nobody had passed that wisdom on to the bears.

"What could we do? Once it had our food bag, there was no fighting him for it."

The students had to hike 15 miles out of the mountains and then get to a town to re-supply. They also began carrying their supplies in bear-proof canisters.

Hiking into towns presented its own unique danger. After living on trail mix, Pop Tarts, and Little Debbie cakes for days at a time, towns offered all the food they could eat.

"It's difficult to control yourself," Bress said. Arriving in a small desert town, "we came in after a rough and very hot hike. When we got to town we ordered an extra large pizza and a pitcher of beer. Kevin ate like a champ. We left the pizza place, and Kevin made it about 50 yards before he couldn't walk. They call this 'the town blues' and it's very common on the trail. You get very hot and feel awful.

"The fact that Kevin had this episode right in front of a liquor store raised a few local eyebrows. I had to hike to one of the hostels to get a car and drive him back. I proceeded to make fun of him all the way to Kennedy Meadows North, where I did the same thing."

Along with the over-eating episodes, Bress and Elias faced some physical challenges. Hiking an average of 24 miles a day took a toll on their bodies.

"For the first couple of weeks, I had more blister than foot," Elias said. "In the Sierras, the regular fording of rivers and streams meant my feet were constantly wet, producing more blisters and fungal infections."

A few lost toe nails, shin splints, wrenched knees, muscle tears and holes rubbed in their backs from their packs accompanied the blisters. They said it took about a month to recover after returning to Nashville.

But Bress and Elias didn't let the aches and pains slow them down, and talking to each other helped pass the painful miles.

"Around day five, Kevin and I ran out of things to talk about," Bress said. "We had not read a newspaper and were too tired to create conversation topics. Even fun games like 'if you were on a desert island what would you bring' were too close to home to be fun. Somewhere near Rodriguez Canyon, Kevin asked me if I had ever seen Kill Bill. I hadn't seen it and asked him to tell it to me. This began storytelling that lasted our entire trip."

"We enjoyed telling stories to one another. If one of us had seen a movie or read a book that the other had not, he would narrate the entire story in as minute of detail as possible," Elias said. "This could pass several hours. In fact, the standard for an effective narration became whether we could make the retelling of a movie last longer than the movie itself."

Though the students said the hiking got progressively easier as they went along, the hardest part was each night knowing they had to get up and do it again.

"Unlike most long-distance hikers, we didn't have the option of taking a day off," Elias said. "Each morning, whether I felt like it or not, I had 10 to 14 hours of vigorous exercise to do. Not hiking could not be an option; to do so would have meant running out of food, falling behind schedule, or missing a re-supply opportunity."

Bress agreed, "The hardest part of the trail is that it cannot be finished in one day, one week or even one month. For 80 days you have to walk, on average 20-some miles a day. There's no way around it."

The reason Bress and Elias could get up and do it all over again was because they were doing it for a good cause.

"The vast majority of those who start the hike don't finish," Bress said. That wasn't a thought for the students who dedicated their journey to raising money and awareness for Nashville CARES and domestic AIDS.

As Bress and Elias walked alongside more than a thousand Nashvillians in the local AIDS Walk, the effort truly paid off. They felt they made a difference in their community.

Bress and Elias raised nearly $12,000 for the local charity, were recognized as the first walkers of this year's AIDS Walk, and were presented with commemorative walking sticks.

But their journey isn't over. The students remain dedicated to the HIV/AIDS cause, and this time they've found their own paths. Bress is involved with HIV/AIDS research at Vanderbilt through the Comprehensive Care Center, and Elias is working with Nashville CARES, teaching medical students how to administer HIV tests.

"The work is by no means done," Bress said.