On Being Trail Named: Of Snow and Fire

Being given my trail name, Blaze, felt a bit like being bestowed the sword from the Sword in the Stone, or like finding a missing sock after many months. It was a homecoming, a name that felt like it was always meant to be mine. 

It’s convenient having a real name–Anna–pronounced “aw-nuh” like the Anna in Frozen, and a trail name–Blaze–conveniently be the first two letters of the English Alphabet. A and B, seemingly always meant to be together. It was in both snow and fire that I earned this name while thru-hiking the Pacfic Crest Trail (PCT) in 2023.

Looking back, the name was perfect for the kind of hiker I would grow into.

Origins Along the PCT and the Uintas

In 2019, I section hiked the PCT. It was my first backpacking trip and my first long distance hike. I completed 790 miles that year (the border to Kearsarge Pass) before returning to work.

While I was new to long distance backpacking, I had dialed in my gear and dove head first into tarp and bivy camping. It was on the PCT that I fell back in love with the outdoors, with the dirt, with the trail. I went by a different trail name on this hike, which never seemed to stick. Despite being ultralight, I was hesitant and unsure.

In 2022–two years into the pandemic–I broke out of my shell to solo thru hike the 105 mile (or so) Uinta Highline Trail and this is where the origins of Blaze was born.

While solo thru hiking the Uintas, I learned that I liked long days and moving fast. I loved the physical challenge, the connection to nature. It was both grounding and humbling.

While I was nervous hiking alone for the first time, I was also thriving (mostly).

During this short but remote thru hike I learned that I would be capable of pushing myself farther and in that, I could sense that Blaze was rising.

The Uintas toughed up my hiking skills. I was chased by a bull up a tree, I lost my water filter, was nearly struck by lightning, and learned how to navigate a burn zone. 

Thru Hiking the PCT 2023: Snow and Fire

With new confidence, I returned to thru hike the PCT in 2023. I successfully completed my thru hike at a Sequoia Tree in the Sierra Nevada (a story for another time) after 122 days of hiking.

I earned the name Blaze while hiking the 100 miles or so near and around Mt. San Jacinto. Later, the name earned a second meaning while hiking out of a fire in Northern California.

2023 was one of the highest snow years on record in California. The snowpack was more than double the average. San Jacinto not only had a deep snowpack, but the miles across the mountain were also fully snow covered.

I made friends with two hikers on the mountain, and the three of us hiked through the snow together as a group.

I ended up being the lead of our snow team–largely relying on my 2019 Sierra snow experience (2019 was also a high snow year). The version of myself I saw in the Uintas was emerging. Confident, and moving quickly.

Our group moved fast, and myself even faster. My two hiking companions laughed at my proclivity to march off quickly. With purpose.

2019 Anna was fast in the city, but in 2023 I wanted to fly through the mountains. Both companions would often have to remind me to stop and drink water. To stop and eat. To stop and breathe.

I frequently marched our group off trail in the completely wrong direction. I led our group well off trail through the snow, all while marching off like a bat out of hell.

But, I did it with purpose. That’s the trick. I looked like I knew where I was going, but I sure did not. This was completely accidental, and more a product of the lack of trail and sometimes lack of other footprints. And, a tendency I have off trail as well.

At one point, I led us straight down the steep side of San Jacinto. Standing in the deep soil scree and with other hikers calling out to us above, I realized that we were very much off trail. It was comical, albeit annoying. 

At this point it only made my hiking companions laugh, especially considering the gusto in which I walked. They named me Blaze. Sure, for trail blazing our group. But mostly, for trail blazing our group in the wrong direction with confidence.

It stuck. All past hiking versions of myself converged with my off-trail self, and I had a second name.

Blazing in a Blaze

With the California and Washington snow behind me, I made my way mostly solo through Northern California headed south. Yes, south (story for another time).

As with NorCal in August, it was incredibly hot–above 100 during the day. There was a heat wave, there was no rain, and there were dry thunderstorms. Hundreds of small fires broke out, though the year was thankfully below average for fire.

I made it about 30 miles south of Etna and camped near two others during one of these dry lightning storms. Eventually, though I was farther south, the Head Fire would result in evacuations. I woke up one night to the sensation of something burning my nose and lungs. It smelled strongly like the inside of a tree.

I was both groggy and grumpy, but I sat up in my bivy to investigate. Inside my tarp was thick, dark, hazy smoke. My headlight could pick up ash particles in the air. This was not far away smoke, this was fresh smoke. There was a fire nearby.

I woke up the other two hikers. One wanted to stay, and one wanted to come with me. We packed our things with expediency and eventually the third hiker joined us. Hiking north nearly 30 miles to Etna without knowing where the fire(s) was seemed doable but unwise.

About five miles south was a lesser trafficked road crossing and I decided that should we round the corner to a fire, trying to get to that road would be the safest bet.

For the second time on my thru hike I led a group of three, this time through thick smoke headed south. Blaze marching through smoke due to a blaze.

I also hit the SOS button on my Garmin device. 

I intended to report to the local authorities (in our case the sheriff) that there was at least one active fire near our GPS coordinates.

Additionally, without knowing how far the fire was or how big, I thought we would need help if we rounded the corner to a fire.

Rescue Pup and Van

As I led us south towards the road, we hiked away from the fresh smoke. This was relieving. After reporting fire activity to the sheriff (which I’m sure was not ultimately that helpful, given how many small fires broke out that night), I told the sheriff we would be OK to camp at the road and make it back to Etna ourselves.

We cowboy camped in a dirt parking area near the road and ironically, it rained on us.

The next morning we met a kind woman and her dog–both from Alaska–who were following her partner along his PCT thru hike. After we told our story from the night before, the woman offered to take us back to Etna. 

In Etna, I zeroed and used the day to try to piece together where the fires were and what sections, if any, were impacted. In telling the story of the night prior to a man at a thrift store in Etna, he dubbed me Blaze.

Two Names

There you have it. The story of how I received my trail name marching with gusto in both snow and fire.

Anna and Blaze are one and the same, and I’ve learned that I’ve always been Blaze. My on and off trail personalities merging, Blaze helped me fall into the person okay with being caked in dirt.

Blaze and Anna both remind each other that it’s also okay to walk off into the distance bravely and with gusto, albeit sometimes in the wrong direction.