Hike Your Own Hike
Have I mentioned that one of the hardest parts of the PCT is town? I noticed this right away with the first town of Stehekin, and it has continued to be true for me at almost every town I have visited. Towns are necessary for resupply of food, personal hygiene, laundry, recharging electronics, and getting ice cream. However, they are usually off Trail requiring additional hiking or hitchhiking and full of the confusion of where to stay, where to eat and how to get from point to point, and the stress of watching money disappear, left and right. Whoever said that backpacking the PCT was inexpensive? As a rule, I’d like to spend as little time in town as possible.
I worked really hard to skip forward to catch up with a group that I could hike with, a grouping which lasted for one fairly short section between Truckee and Southlake Tahoe. Then something unexpected happened. The weather changed. We were advancing into the Sierra with continuous elevations above 8000 feet, and often going over passes of 9000 feet. The predicted weather included thunder showers which would come down as rain or snow depending on the elevation and last for at least 2 1/2 days. No one in my group was concerned about the weather, and they all returned to Trail determined to hike right through it. This did not feel right to me, but I returned to Trail with them, and we covered 14 miles the first afternoon. Having acquired some additional gear at a thrift shop in Southlake Tahoe, I was able to keep warm enough on the first 32° night, but it hadn’t started raining yet. I was warm enough while wearing every single layer of warm clothing, but barely. The following day I hiked out of camp in the morning, feeling as alone as ever because of the strange phenomenon of being the only one out of seven people concerned about the incoming whether in the high mountains. Having hiked in the rain for three days in Oregon, which was much lower elevation and a warmer temperature, I simply didn’t want to suffer that much!
As I hiked along, the sky was moody and beautiful, alternating dark gray clouds with bright rays of sunshine breaking through for just a minute or two, punctuated by red and yellow underbrush, I had a good long talk with myself. My gear was barely adequate when dry. I dreaded to think how cold I could become when everything got wet or how difficult the traveling would become if the trail were covered in several inches of snow. On the other hand, I didn’t want to lose valuable time pressing forward on the Trail or lose track of the group I had worked so hard to meet up with. I had to have a deep reckoning with myself about what decision was right for me. What does ‘Hike your own hike’ really mean? And what does it mean for me in this moment?
If the PCT has a motto, it is ‘Hike your own hike’. I have spent miles and miles contemplating what this means for me. Among other things, I have learned that for me, it means avoiding the temptation to compare my daily mileage and speed to other hikers. It means being comfortable with the weight of my pack and the number of comfort items I prefer to have with me. For me, it also means getting up early, hiking during the daylight and camping well before dark, having hot coffee every morning and hot dinner every night, spending minimal time in town, but when I have to be in town, I want to be comfortable and have privacy, which means a motel room over a hostel. And it also means not being unnecessarily miserable or taking unnecessary risks.
That day I passed a group of three hikers coming north together and a single female hiker coming north alone. All of them had plans to get off Trail for the storm and wait it out. I hiked along feeling strong in my body, but undecided in my mind. When I came to Blue Lakes Road, I still had not made a conscious decision, but I noticed that my feet veered immediately toward the pull out area where a passing car would be able to pull over. Without consciously deciding, when I heard the first car approaching, I put out my thumb and the driver immediately pulled over and rolled down the window. He was kind and had a gentle demeanor and offered to give me a ride to a more heavily trafficked intersection where there would be cell service and from which I could either hitchhike again or possibly call an Uber. I sent a satellite message to the group letting them know that I was off Trail for the next three days to wait out the weather. Knowing that they could not reasonably wait for me, this was likely goodbye.
This is how I found myself back in the town of Southlake Tahoe for three nights, a town I do not enjoy, a town where a hamburger is $25 and it’s hard to cross the street as a pedestrian. But I am proud of myself for making the decision that was right for me despite having to lose contact with the group.
Sitting in my motel on night three, I have quite a lot of pre-trail jitters. I am excited and also nervous about returning to the trail, about the next 50 miles to get to Kennedy Meadows North, and the 110 miles beyond that to get to Mammoth, about hiking the High Sierra Mountains alone in late September.
Perhaps I will meet other people on Trail. Perhaps I will catch up with this group again at some point, but for now, this is what it meant for me to hike my own hike. This is my PCT, and it appears that I am going to do most of it alone.
