PCT | Failing the Pacific Crest Trail

Hikes don’t always go to plan, especially when you are hiking a long-distance trail. Plans change. And that is okay. This isn’t my first long hike, but it is my first over 300 miles. It’s my third time spending a month on trail. Maybe it would be different if I had a partner or a consistent trail family. But aside from a few nights or occasionally seeing people from the first week here and there, I have been solo. Nothing seemed to click like the last two years.

Mentally, it just didn’t feel right. It feels like 2019 all over again. I really struggled with anxiety, feeling depressed, and feeling like an imposter. It’s something I’ve been working to overcome, but some days are harder than others. I didn’t expect to struggle with anxiety about leaving my cat at home. I have had my two cats for nearly 15 years—through senior year of high school, switching colleges twice, nursing school, moving out of state and starting my nursing career where I knew no one, selling my house and quitting my job for the PCT in 2020 (that couldn’t happen), van life, travel nursing…it was just the three of us. Just after Christmas, one of them was diagnosed with cancer unexpectedly and was gone within two weeks. Which led to me becoming my heaviest. I was depressed and didn’t have the motivation to prepare for this hike…I simply ate my feelings.

I got off the trail near Agua Dulce in mid-May. I did some trail magic at Mill Creek Fire Station and then a couple of trips picking up hikers between Walker Pass and Ridgecrest. Then went “home” (except I don’t have a home). In May, I was determined to believe my hike was not over. I had nearly 1,000 miles that I still planned to hike. But I lost the desire to thru-hike this year. I had zero regrets.

Plans change. The trail, while it may change a little each year, is always there. I know of at least half a dozen hikers and couples I have been closely following this year that have had to make big decisions with their hikes. Some due to injury, some fear, and some just felt done. Some, like myself, made one decision that spiraled out of control, where finishing just felt impossible.

I will admit, I am struggling at the moment. I did what I told myself I wouldn’t. Repeating 2019.

In 2019, I attempted the John Muir Trail. I had terrible foot issues and it was my first introduction to long-distance hiking. I was solo and hadn’t found who I was on trail yet. I made a decision to quit on a bad day and ended my hike at Red’s Meadow. In reality, a few days of rest and switching out my shoes in Mammoth probably would have solved any issues I had.

But…I came back. I attempted the trail again in 2020 (after postponing a planned PCT thru-hike). I met my first great trail family at Red’s Meadow. We completed the trail together. It was an amazing experience and got me hooked on longer backpacking trips. In 2021…I decided to hike the JMT again! This time I added the 70 miles from Sonora Pass to Tuolumne Meadows and 30 or so miles from Mt Whitney to Cottonwood Lakes (instead of exiting over Whitney like the year before). I met another amazing trail family at Vermillion Valley Resort (VVR)! A trail family of nine. We hiked and spent every night together until the Kearsarge Junction, where we all separated into small groups due to different plans.

I did start hiking again this year. On June 30, I got back on the trail in Ashland. I planned to hike until the Canadian border. I felt great. I hiked from Ashland to Hyatt Lake on day one. I took my first zero at Fish Lake for the Fourth of July and then set out toward Crater Lake. I planned on 3-4 days to Mazama Village. Mosquitos aside, those two days of hiking were great. A few snow patches here and there, but beautiful landscape the further north I moved. The snow picked up less than a mile before Devil’s Peak, but it was easy walking with micro spikes (many people I saw even did without).

Then: injury. It was nearing noon when I reached the top of Devil’s Peak. I’ve never glissaded before and I had only seen two other NOBO hikers today. My plan was to use the path of the people that had just hiked up. This ended up being a bad plan. The snow was too soft. I was forced to my butt after two steps. I try scooting on my butt. Nope. I started sliding. Then my right foot slips, pulling my knee and ankle behind my body. I hear a loud POP in my right leg, as if something had snapped or was out of the socket. I stopped myself on some rocks to my right, then slowly climbed the 30-40 feet back to the top.

This hike was over. I narrowly escaped having to press my SOS, still able to bare weight and make it back to Fish Lake.

Getting off trail this time was not as easy.
I tried to tell myself that I was okay with the decision.
I tried to brush off being told I failed, quit, bombed out…I had been planning this for so long.

I know that.

I thought I was okay with it. “I’ll just hike in sections; I like it better that way.” “I can hike more next year.” “I hiked more this year than I ever have.”

But here I am a month later. I regret quitting back in May every single day. Hikers are finishing their hikes. The people I started with on day 1 are in Oregon and maneuvering around the McKinney Fire and other closures. I find myself thinking: “this is probably where I would be if I had kept hiking.”

This is where I should be. Yes, I am happy with what I have accomplished this year. I hiked 500 miles.

…but I also have that thought that keeps coming back and back and back. This is where I should be.

I may have failed this year, but I need to try again.

I don’t know when it will happen. Or if it ever will. But I need to try…
So, what is next?

There are so many paths that I could take right now.

I am over 30, single, and traveling with no place to call home. Everything I own is either in a storage unit or with me every day as I live in my van. I’ve pretty much always been single, just how things have turned out, so why expect that to change anytime soon. I want a house and kids sooner, rather than later, but being single makes things a little more difficult. Not impossible, but more challenging as there would only be one income. I miss owning a house, remodeling it, making it my own. Having a garden to grow flowers, fruit, vegetables. Fruit trees. Rows of berries. Raised beds full of life.

I want to travel…outside of the United States. The last time I left the country was 2009. Over a decade. I traveled to Moldova for a medical internship and Romania for an archaeology internship. Right after freshman year of college. I want to see Patagonia. Ireland. Scotland. New Zealand. Iceland. So many others.

I want to hike to the top of Kilimanjaro. Maybe the Camino de Santiago. Return to Wales and see my host parents, then hike Snowdonia up north.

I want to attempt the PCT again. From the very beginning.

So…what path do I take?