The culture of the PCT is inspiring.

There is a saying that has stuck with me which is “the trail will provide”.  It’s a frame of mind that what you need will come, a mindset of bounty. I’ve found that what I need does come, in so many ways.  One of the earliest examples is that we needed a new lighter for our camp stove. We were sharing a hostel room and reviewing what we needed. When we said “lighter” another hiker said they had an extra and gave it to us. These little kindnesses and people supporting one another happen often, and it’s so refreshing. 

Another great example of the trail community is Hiker Boxes. Hiker boxes are awesome treasure troves of gear, goodies and food.  These boxes are located in areas where hikers frequent, like hotels, post offices, gear shops, etc.  The hiker boxes are a place where people donate and take freely. I’ve donated 2 pairs of shoes, elastic cord, electrolyte packets, meals, a battery bank, etc. And I’ve taken a small bag to hold my mp3 player, then I traded the bag up at the next hiker box for a larger pouch to hold my cell phone. I scored a sweet sitting pad (which was donated back to a hiker box 500 miles later), I’ve found food and replaced 2 tent stakes, and the list goes on. You never know what you will find in a hiker box; it runs the gambit: glue, tape, food, clothes, gear, shoes, insoles, feminine products, toiletries, electrolytes, there are always coffee packets (thank you!!!), and much more. Johanna and I always sift through the hiker boxes, partly it’s fun to see what’s in them and you never know what useful thing you can grab or trade up. Also, it’s nice to know when you drop something in a hiker box it will be enjoyed by someone else. 

Hiker boxes turnover quickly, with items fluidly being deposited and removed. In Kennedy Meadows South Jojo and I deposited a battery bank in the box. We had a replacement shipped in because the original wasn’t charging as reliably. Within 30 minutes another hiker took the battery we put into the hiker box. When she saw we had a similar one, she glowed about how she just found one like ours and was so excited to use it as a backup charger for her photography. We were happy to see the battery found a good home! This exchange is so much better than squirreling something away or landfilling it. I’m thinking about how I can do more of this in everyday life when I get home.

The trail will provide is a mindset, trusting that what you need will come. So far, it has.

Amazingly, Johanna and I have hiked 1,000 miles. That brought us from Mexico to just north of Yosemite National Park.

We’ve also climbed the highest mountain passes, and summited Mt. Whitney at 14,500 feet. So, it’s all downhill from here.

In 1,000 miles, we’ve experienced a lot.

We’ve had some crazy weather, from the unrelenting heat & sun of the dessert, to severe thunderstorms, several hail storms, extreme wind, and the occasional perfect day.  

We’ve met lots of people. The youngest was an 11 month old baby whose parents hiked the trail during nap time, to 70 year old retirees. There is every type of person, situation, and inspiration. From people dealing with deep grief (divorce, loss of a child, etc.), to people taking a break between school and career, people reconnecting with themselves and nature. Most people are wonderful, kind and respectful. And we’ve also met a conspiracy theorist complete with a published manifesto. 

Nature has been special.

Perhaps because of all the rain, we’ve seen incredible wildflowers along the trail from Mexico through the Sierras. The plants are amazing: surviving in harsh desserts, or in the unforgiving high alpine. I admire and appreciate each of the flowers for thriving in what seems such harsh places. It’s incredible. 

The wildlife is more subtle than the flowers. There are many little creatures if you pay attention: humming birds, pika, birds, lizards, snakes, squirrels, chipmunks, marmots, deer, etc. I saw one weasel which was pretty cool. We have not seen a bear, but we’ve seen their scat frequently.

Each nature scape has its own rhythm. 

In the dessert, for example, the wind always picked up at sunrise and sunset. Same when we climbed the lone mountain peaks.  Nature sounds ebb and flow with the dusk and dawn, and when we camped in the open without a tent I found that the stars tracked in the sky just as the sun does. So a constellation that was on the eastern horizon wound be straight overhead if I woke up in the middle of the night, and then on the western horizon just before dawn.