Emotions and experiences on the first 275 miles of the PCT

This is my first long distance through hike attempt and I’m pretty sure nothing could have prepared me for how I feel. Even after years of daydreaming about it and doing legitimate research, so much of it has been unexpected. 
Thinking about the PCT always felt like the ultimate backpacking adventure. I mean, I know it’s not all sunshine and rainbows and that there’s going to be very hard days and even weeks that will test your will to push on, but could you imagine hiking through some of the most beautiful scenery this country has to offer, all a while being free from your normal day-to-day routine?  Sounds amazing right? So when I found myself standing around with a group of total strangers awkwardly taking pictures of each other by the southern terminus, why wasn’t I more excited? Hard to say, I’m sure everyone has different reasons for their emotions at this point, but for me, I couldn’t help but to feel nervous about embarking on this adventure. Mostly I was sad to be away from home, away from my wife and dog and out of that day today routine.  But wasn’t that to be expected? I knew that’s part of the deal but couldn’t help but to feel guilty about it all.
As I set off northbound in a cluster of hikers, it quickly became apparent that everyone is doing their own thing.  Although you can hike with someone for half an hour and share each other‘s life stories, as soon as I stop to take a piss and they continue on I may never see them again. It’s quite a twisted concept to think someone I just got to know may inch further and further away from me. Or maybe I’ll see them at the next water source, camping spot or trail town. I guess you just never know the randomness of it all.  

Not only are the emotions tough to deal with but the physical aspect has proved difficult as well. Unfortunately, I developed tibialis tendinitis by the end of day two! How could this be?!  I hiked another 48 painful miles up to Julian where I was able to connect with a physical therapist who travels along the trail helping hikers. I was told if I rested for 3 days to let the swelling and pain go down I could then continue on the trail with a management plan of doing fewer miles at a slower pace and religiously doing my exercise routines every two hours. If I commit to that the pain would go away in 1-2 weeks. I thought, “hiking in this pain for another week or two? Are you kidding me?”  The few people that I had actually spent any amount of time with will be days ahead of me and now I have to go even slower and hike in pain? I’m already upset about being away from my loved ones? It was a lot and I’d be lying if I told you I wasn’t close to hitching a ride to San Diego and going home. But how could I give up on my dream so early on? So much has gone into getting here. After talking with my loving wife who has been my biggest supporter of this whole adventure, we determined it was best if I just rested in town and followed through with the tendinitis management plan. It was difficult, but I am so grateful I stayed on trail. My first day of rest in Julian I found myself at the American Legion, laying on a cot, all alone on a concrete patio in the afternoon sun, which is a nice place to stay for just 10 bucks. In the background, I could hear classic rock music and a bunch of locals having a good time drinking beer. I definitely went in to join them for a drink and to kill some time. But before I went in, I was finding peace laying there listening to the acorn woodpeckers and mountain chickadees, flying around the oak trees above as the sun began to set. It was like two of my favorite and very different worlds were colliding and it put a smile on my face. The next couple days of rest felt like an eternity in that small town, but surely there are much worse places to be stuck.

Over the course of the next few days of hiking and stopping in the Warner Springs community center (which reminded me of a World War II triage center), I spoke to a handful of experienced thru hikers that like a group of soothsayers, would just nonchalantly say “yeah it’s gonna suck for a week or so but it’ll get better.  I’ve had tendinitis too, you just got a manage it. it’s part of the deal.”  how did they know what to expect? Because they’ve done this before… in about a week, my tendinitis subsided like people had told me. The more I talked to other hikers, the more I realized that most people are in some sort of pain, managing an injury, blisters or at the very least, just very sore. In some strange way this brought relief, knowing I wasn’t alone.  

As the days roll on and the miles melted away, I felt like I was getting into a little bit of a rhythm. Although I couldn’t help but to remain a little homesick, knowing I missed my wife’s birthday and my dog’s birthday. I just have to constantly remind myself that they will both be there when I finish.  I was even able to talk to my mom on Mother’s Day, something to be very grateful for. I think she’s beginning to understand my passion for this obsession. Meeting new friends on trail has remained a bit of a challenge as I am selfishly, sticking to my own pace and taking care of myself. But I have been able to connect with at least one buddy who I spent a couple days hiking with and partying with in Idyllwild. Again, never knowing when is the next time you’ll see them.  

 The scenery in Southern California varies wildly. Switching from lush green rolling hills reminiscent of Central America to flatter sandy desert terrain full of flowering cactuses and gigantic puffy clouds that seem to be stuck in time to unforgiving rocky mountains filled with burned trees to forests filled with ancient juniper trees. It’s been rather interesting not knowing what to expect, but really I am admiring the beautiful scenery that nature has to offer.  Over the course of the last week I have summited San Jacinto at 10,834’, saw my first rattlesnake, found my way through the voyage of Mission Creek dealing with all the washouts, hiking my first 20 mile day and getting to big bear which would be my first milestone having completed approximately 10% of the trail. 

I am about to get back on trail now not knowing what to expect. Except for fleeting moments with new friends, sore feet and epic scenery. So far, there have been two emotions that I have experienced every day. The first is being homesick, and the second is the elation of hiking the PCT.  Every day I look around and I tell myself “You’re hiking the PCT!”.  This immediately puts a smile on my face, knowing that I’m here doing my best to work through this adventure and see it for myself.