Begins with a single step, or so an ancient proverb says. A co-worker of mine recently quit her job to go hike the Appalachian Trail, which reminded me of how many are preparing to start the journey of a thousand miles or more this month. April is perenially the month that most hikers begin their long-distance backpacking journey along the well-known Appalachian Trail (AT) back east and the Pacific Crest Trail out west. With more than two thousand miles to cover, they need to begin by April to have a fighting chance to finish before the snow starts to fall in October. With the recent popularity of the book and movie Wild, many are drawn to the idea of finding themselves through long-distance hiking. My co-worker, Katie, is representative of what most people who choose to undertake such a journey are like. She and her husband are young, and have little long-distance backpacking experience, which surprises a lot of people. But in my humble experience, it’s not about your hiking experience as much as you mental toughness that will determine whether you finish or not, something my husband I have discussed at length.
Bryon and I were initially drawn together over our love of hiking and backpacking. We met online (who doesn’t these days?), and the one sentence that jumped out from his profile was his biggest accomplishment, through-hiking the Appalachian Trail. Though I hadn’t completed anything of that magnitude, I had recently hiked 220 miles on the John Muir Trail (JMT) in California, and was still on a high from that experience. Completing the trail inspired and empowered me, leading me to consider the idea of undertaking the Pacific Crest Trail. Our first date consisted of my sharing pictures of my recent JMT trip and us talking all things hiking and backpacking. More recently, we saw the movie, Wild, and both of us had the same inclination after walking out of the theater — let’s go hike the PCT! 
My first introduction to “through-hikers” as they are called was in Pennsylvania while training for my JMT trip. I would put on my big backpack and hike sections of the Appalachian Trail during the weekend to get trail fit. I remember walking to the trailhead and smelling something rank and disgusting, coming upon two AT hikers who were sitting on the road. They smiled at me, and said, “Hey, there’s a great all- you-can-eat place in town that serves spaghetti, it’s just a 10-minute walk from here.” I remember feeling so proud — they thought I was one of them! I didn’t bother to correct them, and set off on my 12-mile day hike thinking, I can do this…
My experience on the JMT was very similar to Bryon’s on the AT. A lot of people set out with high hopes, and in great physical condition, but mentally can’t handle the rigors of walking day after day. About 25% of those starting the AT finish, with success rates on the PCT reaching closer to 40 percent. Interestingly enough, most of those who quit do so in the first two weeks. While my JMT trip was much shorter, I encountered similar rates of people dropping out, with most people quitting in the first few days, including the three other people in my group. All of them quit after five days — one who was woefully unprepared for the weather and elements, and another who quickly suffered from foot problems due to his overly heavy load. Foot and knee problems are a common occurrence, as most people, despite their best efforts, over pack. I found a product called BodyGlide to be invaluable, putting it on my feet to prevent blisters and chafing. I also put the “hiker barrels” to good use at the resorts we passed through. Hiker Barrels are basically large barrels where through-hikers chuck stuff they don’t want or can’t use. I ended up throwing a lot of extra stuff in the barrels just to lighten up my load, but also scavenging them for snacks and food.
Truthfully, both Bryon and I found it’s not your physical condition that matters as much as your mental toughness. After walking 10 days or so on the trail, you get pretty fit, but it’s the discipline of persevering during difficult times and not getting bored walking day after day that really tests you. I encountered several challenges on my hike, including a sprained ankle, terrible diarrhea, and getting caught in an early season snowstorm three days from the end of the hike. I endured what was the single worst hiking day of my life, walking through intermittent bouts of snow, sleet, and a cold rain with temperatures hovering in the mid thirties. I awoke the next morning to frozen boots and morning temperatures of ten degrees. But after getting over the morning chill, I thrilled to the sight of 14,000-foot peaks capped in snow set against crystal clear blue skies.
The other thing that Bryon and I discussed in earnest was the insurmountable hunger and obsession with food. No matter how much food you carry, it is never enough to make up for the calories you burn walking 15 miles or day or more, climbing 13,000-foot passes. You dream about food all the time, mainly things that you can not get on the trail, like fresh fruits and vegetables, juicy hamburgers, ice cream. Instead of a “five-second” rule for eating food off the ground, we had the “hungry backpacker” rule, which basically means you’ll eat anything edible no matter where it’s been. I remember finishing the JMT and sitting down to an enormous breakfast of pancakes, eggs, and sausage and just tearing into it. These people sitting next to me watched me with interest, I’m sure wondering how an 118-pound woman could eat with such voracity. I hadn’t realized how incredibly thin I was until I got to the motel to take a shower. My legs were still strong, but my upper body was very thin and I had most notably lost my chest — I now had “granny boobs”!
I admit, I envy people like Katie and the others who are setting out right now on what is bound to be a memorable and perhaps life-changing journey. People often ask Bryon and me, “didn’t you get lonely?” It’s amazing how unlonely one can be hiking in the woods for days on end. I don’t think I have ever been more present, and grateful for being alive than through-hiking. I remember the incredible scenery, the moments of seeing bears in the wild, nibbling on berries, and thinking how few people in the world will ever see that place and experience that particular moment. Returning back to civlization, I realized that I too yearned for a different path in life, mainly one that would bring me closer to the mountains and connect me to nature on a regular basis, which eventually led us back out west. Reflecting on my own experience, it’s not hard to understand how the experience profoundly changed Cheryl Strayed, or the many others who follow in our footsteps. Let the journey begin…
