My name is Sydnee. I was once voted "Most Likely to Survive the Apocalypse". I am a PCT 2018 hopeful.
I thought I’d have all the time in the world out here to think about things I felt needed to be thought about. I thought, mistakenly, that I might
An actual conversation I had with my mother tonight went something like this: Mom: Are you going to be sleeping in the trees? Me: You mean, like,
Your future is full of exciting experiences. Whatever trail you find yourself on next summer, it will be harrowing and magical and full. But you have five months before you get to step foot on that trail. What are your experiences now?
For the majority of thru-hikers, accumulating the gear needed for a PCT thru-hike is the most costly expense (between food, travel, gear, and town).
We get there at five a.m. with a lawn chair, and we wait at the front of the ever-growing line with our canteen of coffee.
Luxury means making smart, tactical decisions to not only survive, but enjoy yourself for five months on the trail. If you can do that with a six pound pack, welcome to UL stardom.
Yes, smelling like nothing you've ever smelt before is something for which to feel truly accomplished on the trail. Your smell sets you apart from the freshly shampooed day-hikers. You get to laugh in people's faces when they inevitably ask, "wait, but where will you shower?" But I'm going to talk about a subject that's not easy to find among all the boastful articles about hygiene and funk: vaginas.
Here's what I've learned after moving away from Texas, the land of angry weather patterns and drastic temperature changes, yearly droughts and flash floods, all extreme, no subtlety. There is something beautiful about transitioning between the lack of water and the abundance of it.