PCT: There and Back Again

“One day, I will be a child again. Carved toys will caper and dance from my mind, out across rock I will raise as mountains. Through grasses I will proclaim forests. For too long I have been trapped in this world of measures, proportions and scale. For too long I have known and understood the limits of what is possible, so cruel in rejecting all that can be imagined.” – Hust Henarald

This year I wandered the land. Under ancient trees and endless starry skies I slept, dreaming that this would never end. People say the trail changes you, yet I’ve found that to be untrue. It only shows you what was there all along, safely hidden away. I became who I am, would be more accurate. I pushed my limits, on so many aspects. In the end there was no more fear. No more fear to submerge in that next freezing alpine lake. No more fear to talk to people, to seek connection and allow myself to be connected to. No more fear of jumping.

It took me a while to write this down. Truth is, in those final days and after returning, I found I had precious little to say. These journal entries and photos were always a paltry reflection of what it was to live it. And how could I describe what it was like for it to be over? The trail filled an emptiness in me, to the point where I was overflowing with the sheer joy of life. I was uncomfortably sweaty for most of it, chronically hungry, I cried multiple times with or without reason and my body ached all the time. And I loved every fucking second of it. I’d take it all again. The hardships, the elation, the silent camaraderie between hikers, the wisdom of the wild … and the inevitable heartbreak.

I often look back at my time in Australia as a major turning point in my life. Without Australia there would have been no PCT. And now the PCT will most likely be a similar bend in life’s road. After Australia many people told me my experiences there had been a dream, that the real world wasn’t like that at all! And in the back of my mind, perhaps I had started to believe that as well. The trail proved that there was a different way. The PCT was my second Australia and it was more real than I could have imagined.

This year I felt like I belonged. PCT hiker trash might have come from all over the world, on the trail we were equals and we were united in our purpose. The trail knotted us together, a braid of slightly crazy misfits, from Mexico to Canada. They were my people and community. I met many, all of them interesting, at least for a little while. And no matter how many times we parted, the trail brought us back together time and time again. I’ve no doubt that the bonds that were forged in the adversities and wonders of this experience will last a lifetime.

At the center of it all was my trail family, the people I spent the majority of the trail with and upon whom I could rely, no matter what. There were 9 of us and we knew each other better than most people in our regular lives. Out of all those I met, I can honestly think of no finer group to be so close to and to have spent so much time with. Each of them is special and each of them taught me so much. 

I do not remember all the names, or even got all the names in the first place, but here we go.

The people from the start: Maarten, Valerie, Feathers, Verena, Katie, Nick, Cory, Adam, Ivo, Sascha, Kayla, Update, Breezy, Sticky (not the haiku one), Big Red, Billy Goat, Poseidon, Captain Something, Booster, Feelz, Manabu, Sheriff, Lala and Prodigy. 

The desert bubble: Brian, Fry, Smiley (the American one), Puppy, Jeff, Lumberjack, Dirty Mike, Thumper, Rick, Griff, Paddy, Maddy, Gopher, Pinecone, Tenderfoot, Star Camel, Squeezy, Big Spoon, Princess, Pebbles, Pickle, Daddy Longlegs, Split, Chewy, Pippin, Russell, Eric, Manon, Early Bird (all iterations of her), Sunshine, Tripod, Spice, Mouse, Stinger, Sappy (how can I forget him?), Dirty Water, Smoky, Microbe, Mermaid, Calves, Deep Pockets, The Dude, The 4 Belgians, Jive Turkey, Machine, Lost and Found, Sheets, Slapshot, High Blazer, McLovin, Busy Bee, Holey Dreamcatcher, Guillaume, Justus, Gaspard, Bill, Jessica, Animal Planet, Monarch, Headfirst, Zippo, Spicy Batman, High Five, No Bear, Lucky Charm (the Scottish one), Caveman, Dine ‘n Dash, Rainbow, Johannes and Sebastian (sorry guys, you really were the most boring Germans I met), Grit, Commando, Amazon

My trail family (the best trail family on trail): Coyote, Mash, Lucky Charm, Half and Half, Fitz, Merlin, Marble, Lavalamp and IPA

The Sierra bubble: Andy, Beetle, Merman, ID, The Gray Man, Sensei, Bad Mouth, Disco, Jurassic Park, Straggler, Tour Guide, Four Mil, Comatose, Rabbit, Midnight, Rascal, Frisky, Woods, Guardian, Wicked Dinger, Lil’ Slurp, Shotgun, Petra, Jumbo, Daydreamer, Willy Nelson, Nitro, Mittens, Patches, Sailor, Scott, Powerplant, Knuckles, Chops, Robocop, Swede, Bandit

The NorCal bubble: Veto, Smuggler, Hummingbird, Drive Thru, Pinch, Bard (I don’t discriminate), O2, Jefe, Bruha, Miss Pixar, Lime-a-rita, Fizzy Pop, Fat Bitch, Ballsack, Tits, Ghost, Moxie, Monkey Man, Forklift, Raw Dog, Siren, Red, Potato, Puking Rally (still the best trail name), Crossroads, Stripes, Hot Pockets, Stealth, Galileo, Singsong, Out Loud, McQueen, Sassy, Pain Perdu, Zero, Shadow, Antichrist, Shiny, Favorite, Spigot, Classic, Captain Jack, Sticks

The Oregon bubble: Hobbit, Big Bear, Mouse, Goat, Minivan, Story, Bright, Twinkle toes (not much going on in Oregon)

The Washington bubble: Scavenger, Butterfingers, Da Vinci, Peppa, Jiggy, MC, Bilbo, Dash, Crocs, Beast, Koolaid, Graceful, Deadlift, Pika, On and Off, Flat Spot, Peter, The Transporter

The FarOut heroes: BastiPCT, ThatBrunette, Sticky (his haiku’s are great, I’ll fight any haters), President (I met her in person, although ‘never meet your heroes’ definitely applied)

Those who were there from the start til the end: Gnome, Remedy, Tommyhawk, Solemate, Squirrel Daddy, Boots, Cookie, Smiley, Ishay, Rolls, Royce, Camel, Doggone

What are the odds that all these kind-hearted, strong, funny, crazy, amazing, inspiring people were all gathered here at this exact time at this exact place and that I had the privilege to be amongst them? For five months I got to live with some of the finest people on this planet.

This year I was Catch Up, named after his orange hoodie and long catching up effort in the San Jacintos. Parts of Catch Up will stay with me, but he would wither in the ‘civilized’ world, shackled in what we’ve collectively come to accept as a society. So for now it is goodbye, but I can’t imagine it will be a long one. I’ve tasted a different kind of life, one I didn’t think was possible and now there is no going back. How can there be? Just like on the PCT, I have to move forward. I don’t know how yet or when, but I know that there is more, so much more. There are a lot more trails to hike and a lot of adventures in general to be had. I am not yet done.