On Transitions

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I’ve been hiking the Colorado Trail for nearly two weeks now. And it’s tough. The trail mercilessly switches back and forth up 12,000-foot passes, above tree line and down again through dense pine forests. The wind, quick and stinging, chaps my face as it whips around the mountainsides to tell me that storms are on their way. I’ve added a few new items to my backpack: bright red puffy booties, a sleeping bag liner, and a Nalgene bottle to fill with hot water for me to cuddle at night. This is all to say: winter is coming, and I can feel it.

At this point you might be confused. Wasn’t I supposed to be hiking the PCT, not the CT? Yes, and the fact that I’m in Colorado and not California right now even surprises me still. It has been a whirlwind of on-my-feet decision-making ever since the California National Forests closed due to wildfire danger. This happened early September, the day I hiked out of Yosemite National Park. The forests were slated to be closed for at least two weeks, but how could PCT hikers rely on that when we had already experienced so many surprise fires along our path? So, like me, most hikers left. Some quit and went home, some flew to Alaska (because why not?), and some started the 486-mile Colorado Trail.

It’s early October now. The yellows and oranges of changing Aspen groves light up the hillsides as if sun rays were shining out of the Earth. The Aspen is one of my favorite trees. It is a species that flourishes in disturbed areas like those that have seen wildfires, avalanches, or logging projects. It crops up in these spaces because it has a quick and unique way of travel: through its roots. If you look out at a stand of aspens you are actually looking at only one organism - several trees connected through a huge network of roots underground. I find this fact to be beautiful: that in a disturbance, the most resilient tree finds its strength through connection.

I never had time to fully accept that I would not complete my PCT hike. The transition was too fast and I was so afraid to lose my momentum that I immediately chose another trail to hike. But I took some time to first go home, reconnect with my friends and family, and reground in my roots. It felt good to be reminded why I’m hiking, and that I have so many people cheering me on and excited for whatever I choose to do next. I’m so grateful for the support I have.

Now as I hike alone through these bright, quaking leaves, kicking frost off my shoes as autumn announces itself, I’m finding that my feet are firmly planted on this new trail and I’m finally relaxing into what this adventure was always going to be.

-Eva


Eva (she/they) currently lives in the foggy landscape of the Bay Area. Originally from Colorado, Eva practically grew up with hiking boots on her feet and climbing chalk on her hands. She is a lover of anything outdoors, though backpacking in high places is her truest love. After graduating with an environmental studies degree in Portland, OR she instructed backpacking and climbing at various organizations, and went on to work for Outward Bound in both Colorado and California as a field intern, trip logistics coordinator, and blog writer. She most recently filled the role as the logistics manager at Stanford Adventure Program. Eva strongly identifies with two things: her outdoorsy-ness and her queerness. She believes that the outdoors is one of the safest spaces to fully be herself. She finds that the wilderness is not only a place for healing, but a place to feel empowered and autonomous. This is why she is about to embark on the biggest thing she’s ever attempted: thru-hiking the Pacific Crest Trail. Her current mood? Anxious, but mostly excited. And very, very ready.

A Note from TVOP: The TVOP Ambassador program is still in its exploratory phase, to which Eva has graciously agreed to test-run (test-hike?) for us during her time on the PCT. More details to come on the TVOP ambassador program as we get things up and running again after this test period. ⁠

TVOP Admin