WHY I'M THRU-HIKING THE PCT

It is a common thing for Pacific Crest Trail Thru-Hikers to make a statement about why they are hiking the PCT. There are a couple reasons for this: It’s a good morale booster to look back on during the difficult days on trail, and because we just get asked this question all the time. So, why am I voluntarily deciding to live a makeshift life on the trail for nearly 5 months? Why did I decide to leave the safety and security of my job, home, and family? Why now? Why the PCT?

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1. WHY NOW

The seed was planted over Memorial Day weekend 2016 while section hiking the Appalachian Trail. I was with several people I barely knew, on the toughest trail I’ve ever hiked. For three days, twelve hours a day, I pushed myself mentally and physically to not only hike the 70 miles, but to keep up with my group and match their pace. The moments I hiked alone were some of my most peaceful moments to date. Mile by mile, my problems faded and my head cleared. Although I was dirty, I felt I was cleansed. Although my feet and muscles ached, I felt strong. My thoughts were no longer consumed by the past or future. I was solely focused on the environment around me – the terrain under my feet, the sounds of the forest, the views and vistas, the smell of pine, and the relief of a breeze. I was completely rejuvenated.

I was clearly a section hiker; I was relatively "clean", my bag was over-packed, and my feet were not yet covered in duct tape. I knew about the Appalachian Trail, but I never knew about Thru-Hiking. I remember listening in awe to thru-hikers we met on trail, and I yearned for the experience and adventure they were on. After that hike, I learned more about thru-hiking, the Hiking Triple Crown, and that there was an entire culture around Thru-Hiking. Although that trip sparked a major interest and new hobby, being a Weekend Warrior has never been enough for me. The challenges, lessons, and experience of a Thru-Hike are unlike any journey I know of. The dream surged its way to the top of my bucket list.

Fast forward to Spring 2019. I was struggling and needed a major change. Thanks to my lifelines, I spent the next year focusing on my quality of life, my priorities, and my goals. It was time for me to put myself first and live the life I know I deserve. Amongst other practices, I started to plan a trip to Kilimanjaro, looked up non-profits to volunteer with, and took weekly meditation classes. I was trying to turn things around for myself, and take the bull of life by the horns.

Enter COVID.

All my plans and practices for a life-worth-living took a backseat due to the pandemic. The world was put on hold, and for a short while so was my happiness. I’ve already learned how short life is on a personal level and the value of our limited time, but this year was an incessant reminder that the only element of life that is certain, is that life is uncertain. Working the admissions department of a nursing home for the last five years has perpetually provided stories of medical setbacks. This past year and a half, I’ve seen hundreds of unforeseen deaths due to Covid in otherwise healthy residents. I read hundreds of referrals weekly about patients who had the world slip from under them without warning: fractures, cancer, amputations, Covid. We just never know what our days have in store. So, how many referrals does it take for me to understand the value of my own health and abilities?

So, now is the time. I am uprooting my life to hike the Pacific Crest Trail. It’s easy to punt dreams down the road, waiting for the perfect time – but this time is about as perfect as they come.

When it comes to health, this particular dreams probability narrows with age. Thank God, I am alive, I am healthy, I have non-arthritic joints and my knees are not yet made of titanium. We don’t know what will be tomorrow, and I don’t want to take my health for granted. I also don’t have the desire to save this dream for after retirement because my pace will slow and my body will be more susceptible to injury.

On a personal level, I am very ready for something new and big in my life. Not something tangible, not someone tangible, but an experience to shift my life into a (much needed) different gear. It’s been too long since I have reached a milestone, and far too long since a positive one. I think it’s also time I demand more for myself and my happiness. It’s been a very long and bumpy ride to reach a place where I know I deserve it. My perseverance and determination ultimately won that internal fight, but now it’s time to act on it.

When it comes to practicality, there will also never be a more convenient time in my life to actualize this dream. I am fairly young, with few strings. At the time my hike will begin, my apartment lease will be up, my car will be due for return, and the only mouth I have to feed is my own. Aside for my need to assuage Mom and Dad and my boss, I don’t have any obligations to leave behind. (Yay barely-there bills!)

My father would always say: You don’t live to work, you work to live. (All who know me know I am a workaholic. Taking off 5 months isn’t the answer to work-life balance mastery, but I digress.) I haven’t been doing much living, which fails to meet my own expectations for my quality of life. So, I have decided to pass the reigns from my prudent mind to my wanderlust instincts. Jobs come and go, money comes and goes, opportunities do not.

So, how does one go about blowing up one’s life? 5 easy steps:

1. Develop a goal that you obsess over for 2 years and plan “in the future” only to get it done now. Tell everybody – accountability and support is key.

2. Realize now is the time. Waiting leads to waiting. Realizing the opportunity is now is a brave feat. Understanding that “now in my life won’t happen again” means its the most opportune time

3. Apply for permits and plan first week on trail.

4. Talk to your boss, pack up your home. Freak out that you told your boss.

5. Leave everything behind for one daring adventure.

2. WHY THRU-HIKE

First a little open love letter to why I hike at all:

It’s hard to describe the euphoria of a simple day-hike, but I will try. I am the least “Kumbaya” person I know, but hiking is the closest I get to the vibrancy of Maria von Trapp twirling on the hills. I am truly happiest in that environment. My endorphins simply chose to enjoy panting up mountains more than lying on a beach. I feel strong, I feel most comfortable alone, I feel at ease, and I feel at peace. Nature really is therapeutic. I also find it a fun and beautiful hobby - the views and scenery are always worth it, and can be reason enough for a hike. The hours can be spent either quieting my mind or diving deep into my thoughts that I cannot otherwise access in the busy work day - but the hours are mine and I indulge in the simplicity of the day.

Hiking has also played a significant role in sustaining and preserving my mental health. Like meditation, hiking allows me to practice mindfulness. I am able to relax my mind and body and reduce stress by solely focusing on my hike. It’s a hobby that requires all my senses and attention:

1. Sight - watching my next steps, navigating the uneven terrain

2. Hearing - the wildlife around me, and the hikers ahead or behind, noting their location in case of an emergency.

3. Smell - the pine and damp moss. Mm Mm good.

4. Taste - I have to remember to drink around half a liter for every hour.

5. Touch – feeling the different terrain below my feet (the difference of rocky sections, loose gravel, mud, and roots). Actually, it’s mainly feeling any mosquito that needs swatting.

The focus that I have hiking a trail allows me to be completely in the moment. The beauty that is no cell service also allows for time without distractions. There is nothing and no one to get in my way or bring me down - emotionally and physically. A sport that brings some much anxiety completely eases mine. Although my body is working hard, it is not tense. Although I am ultra-focused and thinking constantly, I am not stressed.

Here’s another brownie point of hiking that’s hard to explain, but important. Bear with me: Like the song “Dust in the Wind”, standing at a summit makes me feel small. This helps me. In the day-to-day, my anxiety can get bad. My mind can be a real bitch sometimes and overwhelm me with my problems. Feeling small on a mountaintop allows me to ease that anxiety by acknowledging that in comparison to the giant mountain and landscape in front of me, and everything larger than that, I am small, and therefore my problems are small. It's a reminder that "this too shall pass". It snaps me out of it and puts things in perspective. Cool? Cool.

I think for me, another reason I fell in love with hiking is because it’s a literal, physical manifestation to “just keep going”. It is undeniable proof that by putting one foot in front of the other, I can reach the summit, I can walk through to the other side of the trail, and I can overcome the challenge – mentally and physically. Backpacking on the AT was so simple, liberating, and powerful – and with each mountain hiked since, that feeling never faded. Even on my worst mental health days, summiting felt like I still had some gas left in the metaphorical tank.

Lots of benefits. But what is the benefit of doing it for five months straight? A lot is going to change when I arrive at Campo. I’ll be trading in my cushy job and comfortable lifestyle for trudging up mountains and sleeping on the ground. I will be returning my car to walk 20+ mile days. I will be away from family, warm meals, and bathtubs.

Undesirable to most, but it’s a kind of privileged homelessness (I am NOT a Hobo). The pros far outweigh the cons. There are lessons learned and a new confidence that comes with each hike. Imagine the changes and lessons I can learn after doing so for almost half a year. This trail, as beautiful as it is, will try and tear me apart, chew me up, and spit me out. It will also be something that holds unparalleled joy waiting to be grasped. I’m excited to broaden my knowledge and skills and really become the hiker trash I’ve always wanted to be. I will be forced to push myself in a way I never had to before. When I will be under the heat of the California Desert at 1 pm, after brutal hours of pushing myself uphill, and want to stop, I cant. I need to reach the next water source, reach camp before dark, get to town for my next resupply. I need to push myself forward everyday – it’s a great reminder to myself that I can. Without cell service, I will have the company of my own mind, and five months time to learn more about myself and hike out any residual pain. With each of the six million steps I take, I hope to trap in the glee and release the ache.

I will be forced to look beyond myself, my exhaustion and tiredness. The preparations, and how it matters little, will reinforce my skill of adaptability. I will constantly need to let myself roll with the punches that the trail throws my way. There will be wildfires, snowstorms, road closures and miles between water sources. I’m excited to meet my dedication and perseverance. I’ve met my perseverance in other parts of life, work, and relationships, but nothing so raw and immediate as this (almost). I also want to achieve something big. Something that requires physical, emotional, and mental strength. I have done this before, but this will have a more positive outcome. I have received a certificate before, but this certificate of completion is one I can frame and hang on the wall. It’s something that I can be truly proud of.

Aside for the mental and physical benefits, I am experimenting with new pursuits like blogging and snow hiking and will have more time and constant opportunity to improve my photography skillset. There will be people from all over the world on the trail that I can befriend and learn from. There will be opportunities for me to grow spiritually. I will be in constant view of Gods beautiful landscapes, and within a few miles of local Chabads that I can visit for planned zero days. There will be a lot to be grateful for. From all the research I’ve done, most thru-hikers rave more about the kindness of strangers, trail-angels, hitches and their newfound faith in humanity than the trail itself.

My perseverance will surely be tested. But the beauty of it all will equally push me forward. I will be waking up to different alpine sunrises daily, hiking in untouched wilderness, meeting like-minded hikers, and falling asleep to starry skies. Life will be simple, the people around me - no matter our background and socioeconomic status - all have a common goal. Every day, no matter how many miles I hike, will be a success since I will be moving forward.

It’s not all beautiful sunsets and trail magic and friends and comradery. It is those things, but there are also injuries from overuse, mental burnout, annoying people on the trail, drama, crazy weather, dangerous conditions, rain, cold, raging river crossings, blisters, pain, huge foot ow, just overall body ow, and mental ow. I know that there will be really sucky days, but yet I can’t get over how excited I am to feel so free. To feel like I have no responsibilities other than keeping myself alive and moving toward my goal. To push myself past hardship and keep on chugging. As I’ve heard other hikers say: “to embrace the suck”.

Every hike is personal, every journey unique to the hiker. But regardless of our divergent common interests, we are all out there to chase the horizons of our own endurance, our love of the outdoors, and our love of life lived deliberately. Slowly, were all discovering what our lives are about, stripped of the excess, comforts, and conveniences of modern life. The beauty of carrying only what I need, ridding myself of the social luxuries society has sold to us. It is the pursuit of a life lived in fullness, on the edge of some of our last frontiers.

3. WHY THE PCT

I initially planned on thru-hiking the Appalachian trail – it was the most familiar, the most popular choice for first time Thru-Hikers, closer to home, and accessible to nearby roads – but it was never my first choice. The Appalachian trail is one long green tunnel, you are surrounded by the tall and rich forest – much like the hikes I had already experienced. As beautiful as the green tunnel is, The Pacific Crest Trail was much more appealing to me. I’ve read and seen videos and pictures of the varying landscapes of the PCT – desert, alpine snow, lava rock, and lush green forest. It is one of the Triple Crown Hikes, and – a huge plus – in this country. At first, I feared the PCT for the long dry stretches with uncertain water sources, and the more remote location. But, I realized – if I were to do this, with what seems like my only opportunity – I am going to do it right. So I educated myself, and I sought the answers to ease my fears, and adjusted my plans and gear for the PCT.

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I’ve always believed that we could do anything if we put our minds to it. Dreams don’t have to seem out of reach if you educate yourself, commit, and plan. In 2019, I took a nosedive into actualizing my dream of becoming a Thru-Hiker. I was constantly educating myself through reading, watching videos, and hiking as often as I could.

Aside for my desire for taking this journey, it is also very much an instinctual pull and gut feeling that this is meant to happen. Especially now. I have that unnerving intuitive feeling that this is where I take a right turn and where I’m supposed to go. I have always trusted my instincts, and I have yet to regret anything, I don’t want to look back on my life and regret not going when this opportunity and time is so clearly right for me.

Believe you me, I have questioned myself. Lurking in my mind were unsettling thoughts. Shouldn’t I be more hesitant? Is my undaunted mind overlooking the consequences? Why, in every aspect of my life, have I been drawn to the unconventional? Am I taking advantage of my family’s unconditional support? What about my job? Does this look like I’ve completely lost it?

To the majority, this trip and life hiatus is, in simplest terms, batshit crazy. But I am doing this for me. Like everything else I’ve chosen for my life, it’s my life – I must live it the way I need to, as unconventional as it may be. So today, and every other day, I choose to ignore society’s metrics and reflect on my own values, intuitions, goals and dreams, my family, and my good fortune of health and opportunities. This process, to constantly remind myself to not give in to society’s standards is difficult, but it would be a lot harder to succumb to that pressure and live with myself knowing I wanted something different.

If you’ve read this far, you’re either a relative or liked something I’ve written – thank you. I am humbled by your attention. This is a huge undertaking. I feel extremely grateful for the opportunity and for everything in my life that led up for this to happen. Not everyone is able to take such a leap of faith. I come from a very supportive family that has always allowed me enough freedom to explore who I am as an individual, in addition to affording opportunities for me to learn and grow, and none of this could happen without them. I hope that my aspirations and determination to actualize my dreams make them proud.