Road to the Pacific Crest Trail

Hello from Seattle!

Tomorrow, I’ll be taking my first steps to begin the Pacific Crest Trail, a 2,600 mile hiking path from Canada to Mexico. I’ll be navigating the mountainous interiors of Washington, Oregon and California Southbound (SOBO), expecting to finish in late November. Five years ago, I wrote something similar as I embarked on the Appalachian Trail, and now I get to reflect with the onset of a new journey.

Back before the AT, I didn’t hike or camp much, but did have grand designs that culminated in that wonderful trek and opened a whole new world to me. I don’t remember having any self-doubt back in 2016, and once I was enveloped in the Appalachian, it became like a rite of passage; my identity and sense of worth were staked quite heavily to completing it. It’s funny rereading my thoughts and seeing me talk about my tribulations and hobbies then and how I perceived them preparing me for success no matter how tangential seeming they may be to backpacking. Now, I feel like I’m a bit on cruise control, with how much I hang out in actual wildernesses these days.

Thusly, I’m not feeling an iota of pressure. I am prepared to go all the way. Five months can feel daunting, but also freeing in its singularity. As I’ve planned my embarking, it’s all about cooling down in the Cascades. Whatever struggles, if any, accompany walking that long shall be part of the fun. I remember being worn ragged by the Appalachian’s end, hobbling off with high spirits, whilst brought low by Plantar Fasciitis. I still managed a personal best in that year’s NYC Marathon.

I’m in a pretty comfortable place on my mental health entering this. If a forest fire comes around and forces significant detours, or crucially, me off the trail entirely, it’s not gonna be an ego death for me. Same with injury. I’m out there for the challenge of the journey, and that challenge includes some things that are out of my control.

Ultimately, this hike is kind of a personal value play. Even though I sorta shot from the hip in deciding to thru-hike this year, I’ve actually gone through some great lengths and contorted my agenda around leaving it open as a possibility. I’m an adventurer for life at this point. I’m really not sure if the PCT will transform me in ways my other journeys have, but I’m open to it and eager for a good time in wondrous new lands with fresh faces.

With intentions settled, let’s talk about what a PCT SOBO hike means. I’ll be starting adjacent to North Cascades National Park, after I deal with a series of public transit and hitchhiking to get from Seattle to the trailhead at Hart’s Pass, 30 miles from the Canadian border. Talk about remote! I expect that to take a full day before I start properly. From there, it’s a 2,000 mile race south to finish traversing California’s Sierras before the snows start in mid October. Not too much time for diversions or slowpokes with that itinerary, but its not a death march either with a plan and some trail legs. I generally don’t get too distracted on these trips anyway, but I’ll try and save a day to see Mount Whitney down the line.

One thing that’s been fun the last month is doing some studious research and preparing a resupply plan. The remoteness of the PCT makes it paramount even for omnivores to ship a few boxes of food to avoid onerous hitches into towns with services and/or expensive, limited options. This will be my first rugged adventure vegan and am optimistic that I won’t need to compromise on my diet. I’ve got five boxes of food ready to last me most of the first month, and as things progress southwards there will be a few towns like Leavenworth in WA, Eugene and Ashland in OR or Mount Shasta & Nevada City in CA where I will do some physical shopping for the later sections. Even the most remote parts top out not much over 100 miles from resupplies.

I have subletted my place for the expected five months this hike will take; then I’ll be picking up and resuming life in lovely winter Tucson. I opted for this trek without much padding in the bank, so procrastinating on resuming work will not be much of an option. I’m hopeful some clarity will emerge for me on how I make a living again. Fortunately, that’s a stress for after I’m done. I’ve got a lot of walking to do in the meanwhile.