There is always a story. Whether it is family, a midlife crisis, chasing a feeling from a previous thru-hike, the views, the challenge, the people, or trying to find meaning. A why. Something that keeps you going—through the hard days, the long days, the endless miles that look the same.

If I am being honest, I don’t remember what triggered this intense desire to hike the Pacific Crest Trail (PCT). I grew up in a family that loved the outdoors. We would drive long hours to Colorado every summer and explore the mountains. My dad was a kayaker, hiker, backpacker, photographer, and lover of the outdoors (he still is). There was a gap in my love for the outdoors somewhere around those pesky teenage years, but it was still in there somewhere. My family moved to California while I was in nursing school and I followed not long after. I explored Yosemite for the first time…my first time really exploring the mountains on my own. I surely wasn’t in Iowa anymore. I hiked from Tuolumne Meadows to Glen Aulin on the PCT. I saw thru-hikers (didn’t know it at the time) at the grill and store. A few years later, I moved to Washington. It is pretty much impossible to live in Washington and not like hiking or the outdoors. So I started to hike. And hike some more. And backpack. Gain confidence and experience.

The mountains are my stress release. My happy place. Even before Covid-19, labor and delivery nursing isn’t just about “holding babies.” It is triage, emergency, surgery, post-anesthesia care, birth, death, mental health, and so much more wrapped into one location. A patient inside of a patient. So, the mountains. The more I learned about the Pacific Crest Trail, the more I wanted…needed to hike it. Day hikes, section hikes. Could I really do a thru-hike? Like I said, I can’t quite remember when I first decided this was an option. Ask any of my former coworkers, I have been talking about this for years. In 2019, I finally decided that it was time. I had experience at work, enough that I felt comfortable leaving. I started making plans, but I didn’t tell anyone I knew. I got a permit: April 10. I started buying food for resupplies and replacing a few more pieces of gear.

In January 2020 (you see where this is going), I put in my notice at work. I finished the remaining projects on my house (including installing new floors, painting the exterior, adding gravel to landscaping, and replacing a very large broken window). I then sold my house, car, and many of my belongings. All this happened in those first few weeks of Covid-19 when nothing was really happening yet. No mask mandates. It wasn’t until my last day of work that masks were required for hospital staff and temperatures were taken before entering the building. Still, this should blow over soon, right? I packed up my remaining belongings (and cats) into the Uhaul and drove to my parent’s house in California. My dad saw no reason I couldn’t hike still. Ultimately, things got worse and I decided to cancel (or at least postpone) my hike for 2020. I grabbed a couple of permits for the Sierra, just in case, and waited. In the end, I wound up hiking the John Muir Trail (JMT) southbound out of Tuolumne Meadows. After the hike, I can say for a fact:

Thru-hiking ruins your life.

For the better. All I wanted to do was get back on the trail (note: post-trail depression is definitely a thing as well).

So, this pandemic has lasted longer than most of us thought. Post-trail, I bought a van, converted it myself, and started travel nursing. I needed 2021 to be more work-focused, to recoup what I had spent on the van and some travel. That is where mini section hike number two comes in. Over 315 miles from Sonora to Cottonwood Lakes + a second summit of Mount Whitney. Clearly, I like the Sierra.

2022 is the year. I am hiking for ME.

For my love of photography.

For my love of wildlife.

For my health.

For my dad, who would love to hike and backpack alongside me if he could.

For my mother, to show her the world and give her an endless supply of beautiful scenes to paint.

For my love of the alpine landscape.

For solitude.

For the people. The thru-hikers, trail angels, and everyone in between. Seriously, the people on trail make you forget about how ugly the world can get sometimes.

For the escape.

For six months to just focus on me.

For my youngest nephews, to show them the world they have yet to explore.

…and for anyone that wants so badly to be in those mountains, but can’t, for whatever reason.

Finally: to spread awareness on miscarriage, stillbirth, and infant loss. Something so close to my heart. It is something that is so common, yet is rarely talked about. My goal is to raise enough money to purchase (at least) one Cuddle Cot to donate to a hospital that does not have one. Being able to donate more than one would be amazing. For more information and to donate, please click here.

2020: TUOLUMNE MEADOWS TO MOUNT WHITNEY
2021: SONORA PASS TO COTTONWOOD LAKES

the numbers

■ Total Distance Hiked | 510 miles
■ Most Miles Hiked in a Day | 23.5 miles
■ Least Miles Hiked in a Day (>0) | 2.6 miles
■ Days Hiked | 47 (including zeros)
■ Zeros (too many) | 9
■ Neros (<10 miles) | 7