My first 100 miles: the walk

Eight days later, I officially hiked over 100 miles of the Pacific Crest Trail.

One hundred miles seems like one of those milestones everyone talks about. The first big marker. The first proof that you’re really doing it.

I’m not quite sure how I feel about this achievement.

Maybe I never really thought I’d be here. That I would go so far. That I could say these words, or rather, write them.

the emotions

Just as the path began with many ups and downs, many rises and many falls, my mind also began with many ups and downs, many doubts and many crises.

View of the mountain range from Castle Pass

For context, I recently graduated with my master’s degree and celebrated my graduation with my family. Then I traveled by train, spent time with my sisters and suddenly found myself alone in the mountains.

As if graduating, quitting my job, and starting a hike wasn’t enough of a change, I also suddenly shaved my head before coming here and donated 26 inches of hair to Children With Hair Loss.

The before and after of my haircut.

Between the lost hair, the backpack, the land and the mountains, there have been moments these last eight days when I have barely recognized my own life.

Maybe that’s part of why the adjustment has felt so intense. Many things changed suddenly.

When I say that the silence was strong, it really was an unbearable silence.

Those first two days, I probably cried during every break I took. I just longed to hear someone’s voice. On the second day, I stopped for a break, checked my FarOut app, and saw a comment saying there was potentially some service nearby. I turned off airplane mode and sure enough, some bars appeared.

I immediately called my sister.

And I cried.

After a few moments, I wiped away my tears and continued walking.

Then I did it all over again.

And I’ve done it probably every day, or at least six of the eight days I’ve been walking.

The path

The trail has been physically more challenging than I expected. I didn’t expect it to snow beyond Donner Summit, and I certainly didn’t expect as many blowdowns as I’ve encountered.

Snow after Castle Pass; Day 1

You could blame my lack of research and prior knowledge. Maybe if I had looked at Facebook groups, FarOut comments, or anything in between, I would have had more context and known what to expect. But I tend to approach most things blind and just figure it out as I go, which has its pros and cons.

Landslides covering part of a trail: This is «nothing» compared to other sections of overgrowth and landslides. Pathfinder is seen further down the trail.

the magic

I have also been blessed with so much beauty and magic on the trails.

On my first day, another hiker offered to pray for me while we were at Castle Pass. It was such a beautiful moment.

Shortly after, another group of hikers gave me Dove chocolates. You know the ones with little sayings inside the wrappers? My chocolate said: «Life is a catwalk. Show your stuff.»

And I’m learning to do just that.

Trail Views

Some details

Now, my first three days were probably more challenging than they needed to be considering I started with a 36-pound backpack. For reference, I weigh about 110 pounds.

So yes, my backpack weighed more than 30% of my body weight.

My shoulders hurt. My hips hurt. My whole body hurt.

I was ecstatic at the prospect of traversing that section, reaching Sierra City in three days, meeting my sisters one last time before they returned home, and sending them off with part of my backpack.

My backpack during a break

Town

On the second day, after a mental breakdown filled with crying and missing my family, I met my first PCT hiker: El Camino.

Walking with El Camino did so much for my mental state that I truly attribute those hours we spent together to the success of walking 19.7 miles the next day and making it to Sierra City to see my sisters.

PCT hiker, El Camino

After taking a zero day, reorganizing my gear, and re-evaluating what was necessary and what was coming home, I left Sierra City for Quincy.

This would be a five day period and my backpack now weighed around 27 pounds.

Yes, I was carrying about 10 pounds of unnecessary weight.

I recognize this.

On my first night back on the trail, I craved a soda like I had never craved anything before in my life.

Luckily, there were two campers set up at the campsite.

I wanted so badly to ask them for a drink, but I didn’t have the courage to do it. I felt like if I talked to someone, I would immediately burst into tears. Simply hearing another human voice seemed too much to handle.

Over time, my desire for a sugary carbonated drink became stronger than my shyness.

So I asked.

About five hours later, I returned to my tent with a full stomach, full heart, and full hands as they sent me extra food for the road.

My backpack didn’t turn on anymore that night.

It became heavier.

From left to right: Karen, Bruce, Andy and Karine. Campers at backpack camps who welcomed me with open arms and hearts and fed me so well!

But so did my heart, and I was happy to go to sleep with a full stomach and heart.

The next morning, another hiker stopped by and sat with me while they enjoyed a rest and snack.

After they continued, I went to say goodbye to the campers who had shown me so much kindness the night before.

Once again, a couple of hours later, I emerged with a full stomach and full hands as I walked back to my backpack and began the next part of the trip.

Finally, I caught up with the hiker who had stopped for a snack that morning.

That hiker was Pathfinder.

It turned out we were camping in the same spot that night.

Pathfinder and I shared a campsite and were eventually joined by Starship as it passed by. We saw her off with some snacks before settling in for the night.

From left to right: Starship, Pathfinder, me!

Pathfinder and I continued carpooling for the next three days and two nights until we reached Quincy.

I learned a lot from Pathfinder, a born teacher.

Like El Camino, Pathfinder came into my story at exactly the right time.

Just when I needed company.

Just when I needed guidance.

Just when I needed support to get through some very difficult stretches, both physically and mentally.

Pathfinder was with me as I hit my first 100 miles on the Pacific Crest Trail.

I celebrated with some of my favorite cookies.

My favorite cookies, rainbow, straight from Mexico, to keep your spirits high and celebrate 100 miles walked.

The last two days of those first 100 miles were a truly eye-opening experience.

It was the first time I had walked through a burned area and it was the first time I had faced large landslides.

Fallen trees along the road. Overgrown bushes.

I began to seriously consider my safety.

It was no longer a worry to walk alone because I was sad because of the silence.

It quickly became a concern about continuing alone over terrain like this and what would happen if I had an accident.

I felt very grateful to have Pathfinder with me during those sections.

My first burn section.

After probably the longest 15 miles of my life (so far), climbing over 3,000 feet, we finally reached Bucks Lake Road, where Bob was kind enough to drive us to Quincy.

From left to right: Pathfinder, Bob and I, who was so kind and generous in taking us to Quincy! He even moved his rotisserie chicken from Costco to the trunk to make room for us. Thanks bob.

My first official trail town experience.

And I couldn’t have asked for better company, better weather, or better food.

Starship and Pathfinder during our dinner together in Quincy

I once again chose to take a zero day to let my legs recover because my feet had been experiencing some discomfort and pain.

But Pathfinder didn’t leave me without one last surprise…

As I sit here reflecting on these first 100 miles, I keep thinking about how the journey is already paying off.

Not necessarily what I wanted, but what I needed.

The trail has a funny way of providing exactly what is needed at exactly the right time. A prayer on the first day. A few phone service outages when I desperately needed to hear my sister’s voice. The Camino when I needed company. The campers when I needed kindness and a refreshment. Pathfinder when he needed guidance and support.

And maybe life works the same way.

Not always on our timeline. Not always in the package we expected. But when we allow ourselves to stay open—to experience, to people, and to lessons—life has a way of giving us exactly what we need.

El Camino, Karine, Karen, Bruce and Andy, who welcomed me to their camp, Pathfinder, Starship and many others I met along the way, have left their mark on this journey.

Pathfinder and my shoes – basically the same size 😅

Somewhere between Donner Summit and Bucks Lake Road, somewhere between the tears, the silence, the disappointments, the kindness of strangers, and the miles I wasn’t sure I could walk, I earned the name of a trail.

I have been officially baptized into trail culture! Thanks to the final gift of Pathfinders.

And so, after eight days of moving forward, traversing mountains I never imagined I could walk, taking more steps than my watch can probably count, crying in front of some of the most beautiful scenic viewpoints I have ever seen, sharing snacks and meals with strangers who became friends, and experiencing hard and beautiful moments of this trip…

I would like to introduce you to Flower🪻

I, Araceli, now known on the road as Flor! 🪻🏕️

Thanks for reading on, until next time, and happy trails!