2,650 Miles of Healing: Honoring My Dad on the PCT

In October I lost my father and since then nothing has been the same. The pain has been heavy, unpredictable and, at times, impossible to bear. So I’m doing the only thing I know how to do right now… I’m walking.

I started the Pacific Crest Trail from the southern tip: 2,650 miles of unknown, of healing, of putting one foot in front of the other, both physically and emotionally.

I carry my life on my back and a piece of my dad with me always. I wear some of his ashes in a heart-shaped necklace that I wear every day. This trail is not just an adventure. It’s a space to cry, breathe, remember and maybe slowly start to feel like myself again.

For anyone who has ever lost a loved one…I walk for you too.

The week before

The week before I started on the PCT was a whirlwind of chaos. I packed up my apartment and put everything in storage while I tried to survive finals week. Then I drove south to Tucson, where I was originally going to spend a few days before my parents took me to Campo.

My poor cat, Moose, got very sick while driving. I had flown it to Tucson three weeks before my move. The night I arrived we went straight to the emergency vet. I spent the rest of the week nursing him back to health with love and multiple rounds of medication, all while trying to tie up loose ends before trial.

I didn’t start packing until around 8 pm the night before we left for Campo, which meant almost no sleep before having to hit the road the next day.

Leaving the moose behind

Because Moose needed medication several times a day, my parents had to stay with him instead of taking me to Campo. When I left, Moose was doing much better: he played, ate like a champ, and acted like he was sweet and normal. For me, the hardest part of a hike isn’t the hike itself or even the preparation: it’s leaving my fur babies behind.

Like my father, at any given time I will bond more with an animal than a human. Pets only know unconditional love. My cats have helped heal a heart they never broke, staying by my side through all the tears and pain. They never questioned me on my bed rot days. They were simply present, with slow blinks and soft purrs.

The final preparation

The stress of an emergency vet visit (and bills!) and Moose’s health scare took attention away from my PCT start date. Packing late the night before was stressful as I hoped to God I hadn’t forgotten anything.

My parents stayed with Moose, I picked up my rental car (my sweet friend Shepherd had reserved it for me during that chaotic week) and left for San Diego at 6am.

My good friend Christina picked me up at the rental car drop-off location after my 6 hour trip and drove me to Campo. I am very grateful for her. We drove to the terminal and took a quick look at what awaited me. I then checked into the CLEEF camp and was greeted with incredible hospitality by the hosts; I really can’t recommend this place enough.

After their “fireside chat,” where they shared hours of valuable hiking tips, it was off to bed. I could hardly sleep.

Day one: the terminal

The next morning, I woke up with an excitement similar to that of a child on Christmas morning. The CLEEF hosts provided me with a delicious breakfast and I sat among other hikers as we introduced ourselves and ate. After breakfast, it was time to pack our bags, grab my hang tag, and get going.

Placing my PCT tag on my backpack was surreal. For 13 years, I dreamed of hiking this trail and it finally came true. In the words of the CLEEF hosts, my “someday” had finally arrived.

I said goodbye and walked to the monument with another hiker, Bug Seth. We both marked the border and took pictures at the terminal. I placed the necklace containing my dad’s ashes in the monument so that he could have his moment too, knowing that he will take this journey with me.

As I took my first steps towards Canada, I smiled and felt a little peace, knowing that he would take care of me all the way oaYsz.

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