This Unexpected Adventure
What seems like a lifetime between me and my hike is actually just three months. I’m back living in San Francisco now, busy-ing my days with work, tasks, commuting and food shopping – nothing even remotely similar to waking up everyday in a silent forest and walking until sundown. My life is so unlike what it was on the trail, that I sometimes need to look back at photos to remember that, yes, I really did it.
A little bit of space from my summer has cleared the way for new reflections. For awhile there, I had been stuck on this idea that my summer was just a failed attempt of the PCT. I was very deeply disappointed when I couldn’t complete the hike, and disappointed again when I couldn’t complete my back-up hike, the CT. I just wanted to finish something; to have a neatly wrapped box of words I could share with folks that expressed my accomplishments. But instead what I have is an untethered and abstract bag of experiences, interactions, a-ha moments, high-highs and low-lows. My disappointment, rather, comes from a place of not being able to find words for this wild, unexpected experience.
So bare with me as I attempt to synthesize everything that this summer was.
First off, I can’t say I’ve faced a bigger physical challenge in my life. To walk an average of 20 miles everyday – and to continue that for weeks on end – resulted in a new, profound type of exhaustion and body ache. Because I hiked with no ACL in my right knee, I was worried that high intensity thru-hiking would cause pain, but it never did. It seemed like everything else constantly hurt, so Ibuprofen became my best friend.
My days were spent almost virtually alone. And in these gaps of solitude I walked in silence, I spoke to myself aloud, I sang, I cried, and I smiled big. Without putting much intention behind it, I realized that this consistent alone time brought a great deal of clarity. If I had to describe this feeling, it’s almost as though someone took a toothbrush to my mind, and scrubbed out all the old thoughts I had to work through. What was left we’re bright, unearthed ideas about my life decisions moving forward and the relationships I wanted to prioritize.
My biggest challenges weren't the physical demands of hiking nor the discomfort of being alone. What pushed me out of my comfort zone was the fact that, due to reasons out of my control, I was required to change my hiking plans several times on the fly. While the logistics of my trip suddenly became much more complicated, I struggled the most with letting go of my expectations of what last summer was going to be. After over 3 years of anticipating a thru-hike of the PCT, I was gripped with a great amount of grief in letting that vision go.
I want to end by expressing an immense amount of gratitude; gratitude for the beauty I got to experience, unfiltered and unaffected, of the natural world. The humbling and jagged mountain passes, the deep, emerald alpine lakes, the glowing colors of dawns and dusks, and the sound of a sweet breeze rattling leaves – this is the real reason I love the outdoors. I found beauty, too, in the relationships I made with people: the friends I camped with, the strangers that gave me rides, and the other hikers who shared laughter, support, stories, and community. I never felt like I was truly alone on those trails, and I was reminded that people are so good. People are so, so good.
The beauty of my adventure, I have grown to realize, was in the unexpected. The series of events I encountered required my adaptability, my presence, and my ability to redefine my objective. Now, looking back at photos from my summer – the dozens of sunburnt selfies and alpenglow mountaintops – I remember that, yes, I really did it. And, yes, I’m really proud.
-Eva
To read more about Eva’s journey, check out their StoryMap by clicking here.
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.
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.