I don’t really like hiking. So why am I hiking the PCT?

I still can’t find the words when I try to explain why I’m hiking the Pacific Crest Trail (PCT). Of course, there are some obvious reasons. But there are also other less obvious ones: thoughts swimming in the depths of my mind that I have a hard time capturing and chaining.

Let’s start with the obvious.

My dad will go, which means I have someone to help me, and that takes away a lot of stress. I have the savings. I have gained physical endurance and strength from over a year of CrossFit and can easily disconnect from my life here.

Then there’s the data: Studies show that being in nature is healing. Helps you think clearly, solve problems, and generate new ideas. And then there’s the experience: my dad has done the trail before and all the hikers (including him) recommend it for their personal growth. (I’ll let you know exactly why once I figure it out myself.)

And then there’s the part I can’t explain… I don’t know what. This is actually why it took me so long to write this post. I don’t know exactly why I feel called to hike for six months… especially when I don’t even really like hiking.

So let’s start there.

What is this feeling? This gut feeling telling me to spend six months walking, spend all my money, quit my job, and leave behind the community I’ve worked hard to build? It’s a sacrifice, for sure.

I feel like this was arranged for me: the right thing at the right time in my life. I finally figured out how to push myself physically. I have the money. My dad is leaving. My job, my freedom, the lack of something or someone to bind me, everything fits together like the pieces of a puzzle.

In other words, the stars aligned for me to go up the PCT.

It doesn’t really matter that I don’t like hiking (I find it a bit boring). Nature is not something you simply like or dislike: it is the foundation of this planet. Whether I realize it or not, I already have a relationship with nature.

When it comes to deepening that relationship, nature seems to offer only good things: peace, healing, clarity, new ideas.

So maybe it’s not about hiking at all.

It’s about the kind of environment this creates. One that challenges me. One who sits with me in silence. One that opens my mind to think and allows me to be fully myself.

It is a place where people dance with joy and cry with sadness. Where strangers quickly become friends. Where people can process whatever needs to be processed.

In a way, it is the type of space that allows us to be more human.

And that’s why I go.

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