Clichés aside: clear the air
11:39pm.
Two nights before heading South to the Mexican border, I find myself typing away at my laptop from a motel bed in Monterey. Motorcycles rev their engines in the gas station across the street as my girlfriend, who is sound asleep in bed next to me, lies there unmoved. As I sit here in bed drinking wine from my Chipotle water cup, I struggle to find the words to express how I feel. For those of you who are interested, it is a 2016 Right Angle from Justin Winery in Paso Robles.
To be honest, I have no idea how to start this but before we get any further there are a few things you should know:
I am not a writer. I apologize in advance.
I am not a “professional” backpacker. I mean, is that even a thing?
I have never attempted a thru-hike.
I may occasionally sing/ talk to myself and still air-finger chromatic scales. Old habits die hard.
I hate blogs. I know. Shut up.
Now that that’s out of the way and I have no effing clue what I’m doing, perhaps I’ll start with me. I am a 30-something. I wouldn’t identify myself as a millenial but I suppose the mid 80s can get lumped into that category by some.
My family didn’t have air conditioning so we spent many hot summer days comforted by the climate-controlled aisles of Target. My brother and I were each given $1 to spend at the snack bar and more often than not I’d get one of those disgusting pink frosted cookies that they sold. Do they still sell those things, I wonder? Ninja Turtles, Power Rangers, Legos. Those were my jam.
I vaguely remember my mom throwing a PCT party for my dad and his best friend (my Godfather). Apparently they had to skip a portion of the Sierras in 1979 because of the snow conditions, and had been going back to take down sections over the following few years. Growing up in Southern California, my dad would take us out to the local mountains to hike sections of the PCT. He didn’t know it at the time but I’d always wanted to hike the PCT with my brother and my Godfather’s sons. When we were young, they were like brothers to me. Given the opportunity I’m sure I could still convince them to join.
Life happens and we all grow up. I focused on school and work. My work/life balance was all fvcked and I had lost touch with all things I enjoyed growing up.
Fast forward to 2019. Coincidentally, it’s the 40th anniversary of my dad’s thru-hike.
I had the opportunity of a lifetime and I decided to apply for a Pacific Crest Trail thru-hike permit. The PCT is a 2650 mile trail that runs from the Mexican border to Canada. It only took a few short weeks before the application was approved and the, “Oh, yeah. I’d do that!” thing I’d always said in conversation became a potential reality. No excuses anymore. At this point it comes down to willpower and the determination to follow my fathers footsteps.
The trail has grown tremendously over the last 40 years and I understand that my trip will be very different from his. According to pcta.com, only 53 people registered as completing the PCT in 1979 and a mind-blowing 1,155 in 2018!
Come back, check in. Follow along on instagram to participate in this journey with me. I will be posting updates as I can but please do not expect them to be timely. I will be keeping a daily journal and promise to get it here! Feel free to drop a line just to say “hi” or even reach out if you’re interested in supporting in any way!
For those of you considering closing this tab to find some sale on amazon or whatever else excites you in this moment, don’t. It wont make you happier. The PCT may not be for you but perhaps I can help convince you to listen to your suppressed dreams.
Act now. We only get one shot.
““wtf. another trail journal? You’ve gotta be kidding me””