First steps: the walk

We’re almost there

My brain seemed to short-circuit for weeks before the big day. I couldn’t focus on anything for more than a few minutes unless it was some stupid YouTube video to numb my conscience to the challenge ahead. Everything I did became rushed or half-done: clothes forgotten in the washing machine, tools scattered around the garage, etc. I was turning into a crazy person. Just before driving to the terminal, I felt strangely determined to start the journey clean shaven, so I bought cheap razors, shaving cream, and frantically shaved my face in the Walmart bathroom.

«What does it look like?» I asked after getting back into the car looking baby-faced and bleeding.

«… you can see it well!» Maggie said.

In fact, it didn’t look good. Maggie, however, is nice, so she lied to me. She was handling my scattered behavior as best as anyone could, but surely she must be approaching her limit. We knew we’d miss each other soon, but I suspect she was at least a little relieved to be rid of the ball of anxiety that had replaced her boyfriend.

«Okay, let’s go to Campo!»

Hello field

A plume of dust rose around the car as we finally reached the southern end of the PCT. The digital clock on the dashboard read 12:34 pm Maggie looked at me and smiled. I groaned. I had planned to start more than two and a half hours early to avoid starting in the peak heat of the day, but alas, I was running very late and still had to check my gear and sort through a bag of groceries to fill my lunch bag. That would take at least another half hour. I’ve always been a «fashionably late» type, but three hours was excruciating.

It took me even longer than I expected to finally get moving (no surprise). Once I finished packing my backpack with new food and my feet with new socks, it was time for the obligatory photo session with the southern monument. There were photos of just me, some of Maggie and I together, and some that also included Walnut. We kept chatting, we kept thinking of more things to double and triple check, we kept dragging it out until finally the moment came when there were no more delays to invent and it was time to say goodbye. I gave Walnut a few good pets and hugs (I’m sure he didn’t mind) before turning to Maggie for a lingering kiss and a tearful goodbye. We hugged each other for a long time.

«Bye Nick and hello Boomerang!» He said with red eyes and a big smile as he walked away.

«See you in the fall,» I smiled, slipping my hands from hers. The words sounded unreal as they echoed in my head. I knew I was going to miss her very much. Hell, I already did it.

First steps, finally

The southern end of the PCT is adorned with a monument that sits atop a hill along the border with Mexico. After signing in at the trail register, hikers set off north and are immediately rewarded with views of beautiful desert hills that beckon them to keep going. Despite my late start, the weather was idyllic: sunny and windy with a high of 70 degrees. The afternoon sun beat down on me as I trudged along, occasionally spooking a small lizard lying in the sun, sending it slithering into the brush along the trail. The birds glided lazily in the breeze. Shiny black beetles walked mechanically along the path. I stepped over them carefully, stopping to admire the shells of the largest ones.

The trail was well maintained and the scenery was beautiful, and I soon found a sign that said “Mexico: 3 miles, Canada: 2,647 miles.” I thought he was funny in an intimidating way, like an attack dog in a tutu. I remembered the famous quote about how a journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step. I was about to walk much, much more than 1000 miles. The principle is the same… but damn, I was about to walk a very, very long road.

I arrived at camp that first night after hiking 11 miles, a decent total for a late start. As I lay at my notebook looking inside my tent, I noticed something strange. Despite all those thoughts about the magnitude of the trail, the madness of what I was about to do, those first few miles seemed so… normal. Somehow it felt like any other day despite knowing that this was the beginning of a great adventure. How long would it take for the magnitude of the challenge to sink into my brain? Was he still so disoriented from nerves that he couldn’t even understand what he was doing anymore?

Thousands of people have climbed the PCT before and I’m sure none of them have described it as “ordinary.” No matter how the walk goes, something extraordinary is going to happen, whether in a good, neutral or bad way. Maybe I would find something in myself that I wanted to find in this experience: strength, resolve, determination, resilience. Perhaps he would find weakness, fear, or worse.

Whatever awaited me there was something I wanted to discover. As I move forward, I know that some strange alchemy will turn my many days and countless steps into something special, unforgettable. I just need to let the magic happen.

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