A Message From Beyond Big Bear

Well, hello there. 

I hope you all have been enjoying the days and the trail. 

I know it has been a good minute since my last update. Ok, maybe a little longer than a minute, but to be fair, it gets really easy to lose track of time when on the trail. It gets a little difficult to keep track of what day or date it is out there, and after finally falling into a routine on trail… well… where does the time go? While I do intend to pick up where I last left off – a couple hundred miles back leaving Big Bear – I have had some time to overthink, process where I am at now and want to provide an update that should kickstart my updates again. It’s like I finally remembered how to put words together!  

While I’d love to share that I have been able to hold a continuous footpath to where I currently am, unfortunately, that is not the case. With fire season starting early, a cold and a knee/leg that refuses to cooperate, I’ve had to skip some miles, and my on trail adventure has had to go off trail for a bit. I can at least confirm that I made it 1502 miles before things started to get messy. I can also confirm that I have not decided to go home yet and am hoping to continue forward and make it to my destination… Canada. 

1500 Mile Marker

My journey so far…

Has had its fair share of ups and downs. And I’m not talking about the mountain passes, hills, ridges, and everything in between that we have walked through. It should come as no surprise that this journey has been way more mentally and emotionally challenging than it has been physically. Not to say that climbing out of Belden was easy (if you know you know… why does no one talk about this climb!?) but… I did get over it (ha!). 

Town of Belden Bridge

Physically

I feel pretty darn strong and great. After walking 1500 miles, my trail legs kicked in, my hiker hunger took over, and the steps I took each day added up and up. 

Before having to come off trail, I was averaging 20 – 25 miles a day. My hiking buddy and I had agreed that we did not need to go over 25 as we both have the time and want to keep enjoying the trail. Now most people think 20-25 miles a day is a lot, but… did you know there are people out there doing 30-40 miles A DAY!? That is still mind-blowing to me. So much respect to them. 

Anyways, I  felt my legs getting stronger each day and the weight of my pack getting lighter even after each resupply we’ve had to do. My feet have handled the trail very well with minor and rare blisters. I barely recognize my legs with all the battle scars I came out of the Sierra with – all worth it, of course. I have two areas where my hiker tan stand out – my legs thanks to my socks and my hands, due to my sunhoodie’s thumb holes. My shoulders were starting to bruise from my pack. I lost a toenail, and the other one isn’t quite lost but getting close. Soreness and the burn had become the norm, along with taking one step at a time until we reached our destination for the day.

I felt great, strong, even a bit empowered with each step. 

Carson Pass Road Crossing

Emotionally

There have been more laughs and smiles than there have been tears. The laughs and smiles with my tramily, my hiking buddy, the other hikers met on trail and the beautiful trail angels that have crossed my path and have provided stories to share will be the ones I talk about in person. But there have also been tears that I try to hide… tears that will probably not be mentioned outside of this because no one likes to talk about the rough patches. But there have been tears caused by my frustrations and refusal to understand that I am human and I do get tired. For example, those last few miles before camp that seem to take the longest, where I am tripping over every rock and root and cursing at the sky for “suddenly putting it in my path”, but really it’s just my feet telling me they are tired. Or the never ending climbs that turn my legs to jello and make me wonder if I can truly do this and maybe pressing the SOS button and having someone come carry me out wouldn’t be so bad afterall. (Do NOT press the SOS button unless truly needed.) 

There have been tears caused by that feeling when you truly miss home and wish you could see your mom and dad and even your siblings. Tears of guilt knowing that I am missing watching my first niece grow, my cousins graduate, birthdays, family gatherings, and missing months of my fur babies’ lives. Tears of fear, having to think of what is to come after the trail is done and will I feel more lost than when I started? 

The tears haven’t been all bad. The laughs and talks with people on the trail and trail angels about what is to come both on trail and after are always positive and encouraging. Then there’s the moment when listening to the right song at the right time – you turn the corner and that stunning view you weren’t expecting comes into sight.

Yea, sometimes I need to pinch myself a couple of times a day.  

Lookout Rock – Plumas National Forest

 

Picture with my trail family – smiles and laughs all around

Mentally

Has been just as messy and bundled up as it has ever been. It feels like there’s just too much going on up there, but at the same time… there’s nothing that truly sticks. Like when you’re on the phone and have to remind yourself of it while trying to figure out what you didn’t hear. My mind would race all day – happy thoughts, sad thoughts, silly thoughts, even angry thoughts.  At the end of the day, though,  I couldn’t remember most of what was running through my mind. I just knew it was a long, exhausting but rewarding and beautiful day, and I couldn’t wait to eat dinner and get some rest. By the time we set up our tents, ate dinner, cleaned up, got into our tents and my head hit my makeshift pillow I was out. 

At the same time, every day has its rough patch, and that’s when the tougher mental battles begin – the ones where you beat yourself down and question existence and your abilities. Like doing a ridge walk detour that required a 1,600ft climb in 1.5 miles that makes you question why you signed up for this, and can you really make it?? Or really any climb that seems to be never ending. Usually these moments lead me to thoughts of “I can’t do this. Why did I think I could do this??”. There are SO many moments that have truly made me question my insanity and reasons for being out on the trail. 

Thankfully, the more I walk, the easier it gets to counter with thoughts of “I’ve come this far.  Heck yea, I can do this. ” 

Trail Magic after Burney Falls for a bit of encouragement

My reality 

At the moment has been the toughest challenge I’ve had to push through since starting the trail. After feeling like there was some really good balance between the mental, physical and emotional aspect of the trail, it has been pushed down the drain and run through a garbage disposal. Okay, that’s a bit dramatic but for the most part how it feels. Having to come to a temporary halt and wait for my knee/leg to recover after feeling like I was on a flow sucks. It SUCKS. Physically it has been painful and that’s not the worst of the three. The mental, which leads to the emotional crumbling has been challenging. Going from feeling like you’re on top of the trail to a dead stop, even temporarily, has been a real mind game. Of course I knew the whole experience wouldn’t be all beautiful panoramic views and deers that make you feel like you’re a Disney princess. And while I really, really hoped my body wouldn’t be a reason to get off the trail, I knew there was a small chance it could be. So now I sit here, hoping to be able to get on trail and find the balance again. 

Panoramic Views

More Views

Even more views – Mount Shasta

So, this message, from beyond Big Bear…

Is to let those of you who are still reading this know that I am okay and the journey is still going. It has not been going as I had hoped but even I knew it was a stretch to plan for a “perfect, continuous thru hike”. Now, that’s not to say it’s not perfect. Everything happens for a reason, and learning to accommodate and having to pivot and shift in a second keeps things exciting. And this post isn’t to look for pity or scare anyone away from attempting this trail but instead to provide insight into the less beautiful side of hiking the PCT and maybe help future hikers try to prepare. I don’t think there is a way to ever fully prepare for something like this. Even if I was to do it again, knowing some of what is to come couldn’t prepare me. The physical, mental and emotional challenges that come with each step (or day spent in a hotel waiting for something to recover) can get really tough. Remembering the reason why you wanted to do this trail and why you want to get to Canada (or whatever your destination is) helps and even that can get murky. 

Remembering the trail isn’t supposed to be perfect, even when it is far, far, faaaarrr from feeling perfect but also, remembering it is providing what you need. 

Remembering to keep my ego in check and who cares what others will say if I didn’t get to step every mile of the 2,650 miles? I’ve done more than I  thought I would. I’ve done more than many ever will. 

The trail is what the trail is. 

And I’m not quite done with it. 

Lupin everywhere

 

Upcoming post… After the Mission to Big Bear…

Affiliate Disclosure

This website contains affiliate links, which means The Trek may receive a percentage of any product or service you purchase using the links in the articles or advertisements. The buyer pays the same price as they would otherwise, and your purchase helps to support The Trek's ongoing goal to serve you quality backpacking advice and information. Thanks for your support!

To learn more, please visit the About This Site page.

What Do You Think?