The past 68 days since we started the Pacific Coast Trail have, on the whole, been fantastic. Every day I experience joy, calm, love, and wonder. However, there are moments, sometimes hours, that are just plain hard. This past week I’ve had a few rough times and have also heard from many other hikers who are going through similar emotions, often brought on by very different reasons. One friend is homesick, another working through an injury, and a hiker we had never met before shared his frustration with the idea that he might not accomplish his goal of walking the full trail this year due to factors outside of his control.

Here are a few glimpses into things that have triggered some of my tough moments and also some of the salves that help them pass by.

1. My feet hurt, almost all of the time. Another hiker and I this morning were sharing strategies for how to get to sleep when your feet are throbbing (drugs, elevation).

2. Mosquitoes and heat are a terrible combo because the strategies for dealing with them totally contradict each other. For skeeters you put on thicker layers and try to walk faster, especially through shady areas that they love; for heat you wear thinner layers and take long breaks in the shade. Being sweaty and walking in your rain gear, while still getting bites on your hands and face, totally sucks. Throw in a 2 mile stretch of poison oak and brambles on. steep ascent and you’ve got yourself a party (also know as the climb out of Belden).

These are fake smiles

3. Things break (like my earphones), and sometimes you lose your shit (both your things and emotionally). After realizing I had lost my sunglasses on trail two days ago I cried for 15 minutes then sulked for another hour. (This story luckily has a happy ending as a hiker we saw at the grocery store in town this morning had found my sunglasses, carried them 20 miles, then was asking all of the hikers he saw in town whether they had lost them 😎)

Sunglasses returned! Thank you Lookout!

4. You are constantly filthy, and a little stinky. Sweat and sunscreen are dirt magnets. Your hands are caked in trail dust, and there’s only so much hand sanitizer can do for you.

5. Burn scars from past wildfires. These areas are heartbreaking 💔. Walking through them feels like penance for every flight I’ve taken, every time I failed to recycle, and my complacency with a high carbon footprint society.

6. It’s easy to get caught up in the idea that you need to cover a certain distance everyday to be legit. Many hikers are walking 25+ miles a day and making it look easy. They’re also getting up every morning and moving by 6am, and some even timing their breaks to 15 minutes. While I logically know this isn’t my goal or the reason I’m on the trail, I can fall into bouts of self-doubt and criticism.

But as I said, most of the time the trail is amazing, and there are lots of perks and strategies to combat these PCT blues. For example:

1. We get to eat candy, peanut butter, chips, and pretty much anything we want. All if the time. And we’re still not getting enough calories. I’m loving it, and while eating is not a fix for sore feet, some sour patch kids can at least distract for a few minutes (typed as we just finished a package of cookies 🍪)

2. Body wipes are an incredible invention. Being able to take a layer of grime off before climbing into your sleeping bag feels amazing (especially when there’s not a nearby stream or river for a little splash bath). Thanks to our trail angels who have included these in care packages.

3. Connecting with folks back home. Every time I get cell service I am excited to see the updates from my family text thread, look at pictures from friends (and pics of our cats 😻😻), or send out quick notes to the people I’ve been thinking about. It’s a great way to get myself out of my head and grounded.

Painting from my niece that I carried 100 miles because it made me smile every time I opened my bag

4. Practicing presence; coming back to the moment and letting go of whatever potential future I might have gotten caught up in (like the idea that my feet are going to hurt forever or I will be publicly shamed for only walking 14 miles today). I have lots of strategies for this from my work with my therapist last year that have been incredibly helpful.

5. Take breaks. As many and as long as you want. We often tease that we are on this trail “solely for our pleasure,” so while I sometimes forget it, I always have the choice to walk or not walk. Pausing to notice the flowers, the bunnies, the birdsong, the dragonflies, the smell of the evergreen trees, or to just look up at the view, can be like hitting reset.

6. Having my favorite person with me. Jeremy usually recognizes when I am in a funk about the same time I do, and is great at making me laugh, giving me a hug, and best of all being willing to work through it with me.

“Finding mushrooms” would be top of this list if Jeremy were writing

I’m incredibly grateful to have this experience and the luxury of time to reflect and share what I’m learning about the trail and about myself. Thanks for reading 😄.