Three simple letters . . . PCT . . . abbreviations for the Pacific Crest Trail, a singular trail which stretches from Campo, California, on the Mexican border, to Manning Park, British Columbia, a total of 2,650 miles.
My wife, Bev, plans on hiking that trail in March, or April, of 2023, at the age of sixty-two.
It’s easy to type those words. In truth, it is nothing more than an intellectual activity, thinking about hiking 2,650 miles, until the day you stand at the terminus of the Trail, take that first step after a full year of planning, and suddenly the shit gets very real.
Twenty miles per day, with a full pack, for 130 days. A little over four months of continuous hiking. See, more intellectual activity, no sweat, they are just words. It’s like sitting in a college class, talking about the Ancient Romans, or postulating about the meaning of life in some Philosophy class, fun and games, capped off with a pizza and a cold beer.
The reality of it all
Twenty miles per day, through the desert heat. Twenty miles per day, through the High Sierras, reaching elevations of thirteen-thousand feet, hiking a total elevation gain of over 131,000 feet, the equivalent of summiting Mt. Everest ten times in four months. Twenty miles per day, racing the calendar, trying to reach the Cascades of Washington State before the early snows begin to fall. Twenty miles per day, through temps in the triple-digits, through sleet, through thunderstorms, through snowstorms, through torrential downpours. Twenty miles per day, wave after wave of mosquitoes, lancing blisters, crawling into your tent, at night, wet, cold, with every fiber of your body screaming for you to finally throw in the towel, scream No Mas, and return to civilization.
Twenty miles per day.
Still an intellectual exercise?
Perhaps I’ve done a poor job of delivering the message. Perhaps it is still too far-removed from the life you live. Try this, then: imagine walking around your town, tomorrow, for twenty miles. Just slip on your walking shoes, maybe pack a lunch and a water bottle, and walk twenty miles. Now, be truthful. How do you think your body would feel at the end of those twenty miles? How about the next morning?
Most of you now understand what I’m saying, because just the act of walking a couple miles, through your neighborhood, is tiring for the average person of middle age. Now consider walking ten times that amount, daily, carrying thirty pounds on your back, and wondering if you will come face-to-face with a black bear or a cougar along that walk.
Life-altering experience
I’ve read a lot of written accounts of people who have tackled the PCT, or the AT (Appalachian Trail), or the CDT (Continental Divide Trail), and almost all of them describe the experience as life-altering. Four or five months on the trail, most of that time alone, leaves copious amounts of time spent in quiet reflection about such things as the quality of life. It leaves copious amounts of time for self-discovery, copious amounts of time for questioning what is truly important, and for getting in touch with the core of your being. It surprises me, not at all, that so many of those who attempt such a feat come out the other end changed people. Quite frankly, it makes me jealous of my wife. I have no delusions of thinking, at seventy-three, that I could accomplish such a feat, but still, just the thought of it gets my adrenaline pumping and makes me wish I was ten years younger. I would be right along with her and what a great experience that would be.
It also makes me wonder this: have I ever had a life-altering, holy shit, smack me alongside the head experience? Have I done anything which made me see the better angels of my existence, to finally find answers to this mystery called life? Have I had one of those redefining moments when clarity arrives and long-asked questions were answered? When I achieved self-clarity and understood myself much better? An event which truly made me a better, more enlightened being?
I don’t think so, and I don’t know how I feel about that. I have had a full life. I have stood on mountain tops. I have accomplished quite a bit. But I still can’t say, with any degree of certainty, that I understand myself, and I wish I did.
Maybe I need to start training.
And how about you? Have you had such an experience? How well do you know you? How well do you understand why you are the way you are, the forces which helped to form you as a human?
Maybe we all need to start training.
I hope this finds you well. Thanks for reading my rambling thoughts.
Twenty miles per day.
My wife rocks!
Bill, I think I need to up my game if I’m going to keep pace with her in the future. I hope my old body will hold up.
Linda, I hear ya. I walk seven miles each day, and I can’t imagine doing that with 25-pounds on my back, and I certainly can’t imagine doing it for 100-miles, let alone 2,600. I think it’s time to up my game a bit.
I hope all is well with you in Tacoma, dear friend. Thank you!
Bill, 62 is a dot in the rearview mirror for me. But honestly, I can’t imagine that a decade ago I could have or would have considered doing this. Your Bev is nothing short of miraculous (but you already knew that).
Bless her heart, Bill. that’s quite a hike. It drains my energy thinking about walking around the block (lol).
She knows what to do in an encounter. The trick is in not freezing up in fear and forgetting to do it. 🙂 She is a wonder for sure, and hard at the training as we speak. Thank you my friend.
OMG, I never thought about any creature Bev might encounter. Not all forest animals work for Disney. Some are just plain wild, unpredictable and not in the least interested in joining you in song.
I once walked ten miles for charity, and that nearly floored me. And that was without a backpack weighing me down. My respect for her is going off the charts now.
Thank you Marlene! She is pretty amazing. The furthest I ever hiked was 100 miles, around Mt. Rainier. To do 2600 is beyond my comprehension. One step at a time is a mantra I live by, though, so maybe not that far beyond my comprehension. 🙂 Thank you and enjoy the heck out of your weekend.
Bill, I have seen so many videos about this trail, I feel like I’ve hiked it myself. 🙂 It takes a solid year to prepare for this journey, and then five months to complete it. Yes, it is a commitment, but it’s something that is important to Bev, and I understand that.
Thanks my friend! Have a great weekend!
Bill, my adrenaline gets pumping just reading about this. You are correct that the words are easy to write, but the task ahead is monumental. Is Bev planning on doing the entire length alone? Or will you accompany her here and there? Will you be in the RV providing support? I’m very curious about the logistics of pulling this off.
As far as having that life-altering experience, I don’t think so, which makes me wonder why not?
Yes, she does! Your wife truly rocks! Hiking is not my thing, but I certainly admire people who do it. Knowing Bev the way I do (through you), she will accomplish this feat with flying colors. I’m just going to say congratulations right now. Congratulations, Bev! You go girl!