The 11 Worst Moments On The Pacific Crest Trail
Reading Time: 9 minutes As much as I love remembering the awesomeness of my Pacific Crest Trail hike during moments of aggressive trail jonesing, I also try to remind myself of the horrible times I had on the trail.
The horrible times? Yes, the horrible times.
These times include, but are not limited to: the times I wanted to get off trail for good (all of Oregon), the times I wanted just to lay down and die (Fuller Ridge), or the times I had to squat over a hole and poop while being attacked by flying insects or dumped on by rain (double dump).
Below is a brief account of eleven such times on the trail. I hope this helps remind you all that the PCT is not all smiles and miles—it’s a merciless, ass-kicking monster that you are incapable of waging battle with; you just have to take whatever the trail gives you.
Caught in a Lightning Storm
Perhaps more frightening than low, but a point where I thought a lot about what the hell I was doing out on the PCT was the day I found myself in a raging lightning storm while passing through Oregon’s Three Sisters Wilderness.
It was on this day that I was forever convinced that lightning should be feared far more than bloodthirsty bears (or any other imagined threat). It also reminded me that I am unimaginably insignificant next to nature’s fury.
For an incredibly detailed description (a video) of this day on the trail, check out Super Happy Fun Time On The Pacific Crest Trail.
Toe Infection
What’s better than taking off your footwear at the end of the day and finding a mess of blood and puss? Take off your footwear at the end of the day and find a mess of blood and puss for four straight days as you attempt to make it out of the wilderness and to a medical facility.
After leaving Vermilion Valley Resort (VVR) in the Sierra, I got a nasty ingrown toenail and had to make an unplanned stop in Mammoth to visit the hospital (since my usual plan of “ignore it and it will go away” was failing me).
Two zero days and ten days worth of antibiotics later (antibiotics that needed to be taken every six hours—very inconvenient for sleeping through the night), I was back on my feet and out on the trail.
Hooray?
20 Miles North of Stevens Pass
This morning was debatably my lowest on the trail (figuratively; literally, I was somewhere above 5,000′).
Waking up with my tent nearly submerged in a muddy pool of freezing water, surrounded by snow, and knowing that the impending storm was only just beginning was a massive kick in the balls. This is the life!
I shiver in my sleeping bag, wearing every piece of clothing I have, for at least an hour while I discuss with Mr. Indie which direction to hike. We decide to go south (in the wrong direction) and hike over 20 miles (in the rain) back to Stevens Pass.
It was just one of the times the PCT showed me who was boss. Find out more in Denied By The Pacific Crest Trail (Three Times)
Day One
Hey, let’s hike from Mexico to Canada; that sounds fun, right? No. What kind of delusional fantasy world are you living in?
My spirits on day one quickly faded as I realized what I was getting myself into. My goal of hitting twenty miles (something I had never done before and did not accomplish again until day five) was a bit ambitious (dumb), and it wasn’t until after fourteen hours of hiking that I finally pitched my tent at my day’s destination.
I thought I would wake up unable to move the next morning—everything hurt (yes, everything).
Read the whole story on Day 1: What The Hell Am I Doing?
Fuller Ridge
Having taken my first zero day and feeling a bit guilty about it (a rookie thru-hiker mistake), I decided to put in big miles hiking out of Idyllwild and make it to my next resupply at Ziggy and The Bear’s in Cabazon – only thirty miles away (five miles longer than my previous day).
The last ten miles were all downhill or flat according to the elevation profile, so how bad could it be? Answer: really bad.
At 20:00, as the sun set behind the mountains, I hit the 200-mile marker. I resolved to finish hiking the remaining ten miles before stopping for the night. Long story short, it was a terrible decision, and this quickly became my least favorite day on the trail (replacing Day One).
Read more about The New Worst Day.
Leaving South Lake Tahoe
Rumor on the trail is that most people bail on their through hikes somewhere in Northern California.
This is because the excitement of the desert (the beginning) and the majesty of the Sierra quickly give way to the monotony of Northern California as hikers realize they aren’t even halfway to their destination.
I left South Lake Tahoe alone after meeting up with friends from the Bay Area, and for three days, I was alone, unaware of whether my trail family had pressed on without me or was lagging somewhere behind. Those three days were incredibly difficult for me, and not seeing a single thru-hiker began to weigh heavily on my spirits.
Maybe I like people more than I thought (or I really hate camping alone – I do).
Sounds at Night
Sure, this may not be a specific moment, but no matter how many nights I spent camping alone on the PCT, I couldn’t shake the irrational thoughts brought on by the darkness (tonight’s the night I die).
Unidentifiable noises in the night were all clear death coming to grip me in my sleep, and the fact that my sleeping bag managed to remain unsoiled was nothing short of a miracle. It was incredibly rare that I slept through the night, and even when I splurged on a room in town, I still managed to wake up regularly throughout the night (the evils of the trail will haunt me forever).
Each time I woke up, it was with a jolt of adrenaline, and how I ever managed to get back to sleep will forever be a mystery.
Getting Lost in the Desert
There comes a time on the PCT when you can feel which way the trail is going. You develop a sort of super-human trail-following/finding intuition. Unfortunately, said time during my own PCT endeavor did not come early enough for the desert to be so easily navigated.
Somewhere around mile 250, I wandered off the trail (missing a fork up a hill) and continued following (what I thought was the trail) for around three hours. When I finally encountered my objectively “not the trail” moment, I realized (admitted) my mistake and backtracked to the PCT (luckily, I followed a dry riverbed to make for easy navigation).
Short on water and motivation, I made some Mac and Cheese and felt sorry for myself at an abandoned cabin until the sun went down, and it was time for me to be afraid of the dark again.
Silver Pass
Three ways exist to get from VVR back to the Pacific Crest Trail: the Bear Ridge Trail to the south, Goodall Pass (I think that’s it) to the north, and a ferry across the lake (Lake Edison) followed by yet another trail back to the PCT.
I opted to take the ferry route, and due to 2013 being an incredibly dry year, the lake was far below its average capacity. I arrived on the other side alone and was told, “Just walk until you find a bear box,” and so I did. However, I found the wrong bear box.
Unable to find the trail back to the PCT, I began an easterly bushwhack until I found the (a?) trail (because I knew it was somewhere in that direction). Note: this decision came after almost an hour of frustrated searching.
Eventually, I found the PCT, and all was grand, but at my first stop for water, my filter (a SteriPEN Ultra) decided to stop working. I proceeded to climb up Silver Pass (my belly now full of giardia), where, following the high of my double zero at VVR and the chance encounter with a SOBO friend on the JMT, I plummeted into a depression.
I sat atop the pass and took a video of myself whining about the trail (which may or may not be shared with the internet one day). Luckily, it was a beautiful day, and the view was incredible, so I eventually managed to pick myself up and keep walking (like I had another choice).
Dropping My Solar Charger
So, my solar charger decided to jump off my pack while hiking through Northern California.
This may not sound like a big deal, but the charger (which, admittedly, was badly attached to my pack) also contained a portable speaker, micro USB cord, and USB power adapter. A few days later, I left my trekking poles in a hitch’s car at Sonora Pass.
So what did I do? I backtracked three miles (mostly downhill) until finally finding it lying just off trail (after passing two other hikers who failed to see it). The three miles back to my original endpoint were not at all enjoyable.
I’m getting off the trail.
Basically Any Time It Rained
Quite simple, really: the rain sucks.
Once I started hitting rain (thankfully this was not until Northern California) I began to hate the trail. In truth, hiking in the rain wasn’t that bad. It was taking breaks in the rain or setting up/breaking down camp in the rain that was truly terrible.
I would happily take a sunny (cloudy?) day of steep and rocky climbing over the rain any day.
Perhaps this means the Appalachian Trail will remain absent from my to-do list.
I know this is an older post but it was new to me :-). As I read through this I could not help but laugh as so many of your “Worsts” would absolutely be mine. After just returning from a sierra trip where I endured lightning storms huddled under a tree, near a like, surrounded by granite, near 9k feet, rain which seemed like it would never stop, and every imaginable noise in the dark, I can relate. The funny thing is I had considered a thru to see if it rid me of these irrational bump in the night noise while camping fears. Based on this, I guess that is false hope. (ear plugs are the only thing that even gives me a chance to sleep decently whilst camping in bear/cougar territory)
Good for you for sticking with it and thanks for the posts.
Good luck in your future hikes
If I use ear plugs I wake up thinking that bugs are burrowing into my head :(
You’re not using the right ear plugs. You won’t notice good ear plugs when using them.
Note to self: buy new earplugs.
Interesting, i did not hike the pct or ap trails, i thought to try them years ago. Now i am 71 with three heart problems and need meds every day. But! in my thirties i did hike and back pack through Europe. 2,000 miles with no time frame. Many mountain ranges and beautiful sights. In some places it is hard to avoid towns and cities. I well know pooping in holes, butt rot, crotch rot and arm pit rot, at least that’s what it smells like. Walk into the wind.
I met zillions of people, it was hard to get off the trails, they were so well worn. It’s good to know how to climb trees, those European wild boars are really nasty. And in Southwestern Europe and the Italian alps they have the perfect equal to Grizzly bears. You really cannot see a difference.You have to stand your ground and never run. One passed five feet from me, maybe it didn’t like my smell.
After i met two Swedish chicks, and spent two 0 days in their company, they showed me how to keep decently clean. Both were nurses and they used lanolin washing scrubs. There were thirty in a pack, bigger then alcohol wipes. Europe had them long before we did. A little on the heavy side, but one was a complete bath, once you had a routine.Last were the arm pits, crotch then butt. Something to ponder on for your next hike.Yugoslavia was communist then and i had some 0 days trying to get permission to hike through, i guess they thought i must be a spy. No Americans hiked Europe they said, Americans always go first class. After a lot of hot air i finally was allowed in. It was very beautiful, friendly people, but i had to constantly show my “papers” everywhere. Greece was hard, more mountains then i imagined,really primitive, but i was in great shape by then. I hiked into Athens and visited some relatives, then took a ferry to Icaria and stayed there a month with family and visited my fathers grave. No one believed that i hiked through Europe, only the 500 or so pictures i took convinced them. In many countries people will take you in, in Greece young people sleep on rooftops cheaply, if you take a ferry, buy deck class, But stay up wind from the smoke stacks. I have lots of found memories of deck class with all those kids from all over the World. It was worth it, it was the best journey of my life, I still fall asleep and relive it often. I loved those violent thunder storms, in the mountains, especially in the Yukon and Alaska, hike Alaska people, The northern lights are soooo much more up there. And the wildlife is really great. Be prepared, keep the wind in your face.
Sounds like you’ve had quite the journey. It appears I have a lot more exploring to do. Thanks for sharing!
I wanted to take up hiking to stay healthy. Now you tell me you have heart disease??
I was born with heart disease, I hiked to stay alive longer, I am 77 now, with three heart problems and a host of other crap. Do not let disease stop you.
Awesome – thanks for sharing your experience.
My pleasure, Jenna :)
hi how did you manage to get home from the northern terminus?
There is a place called E. C. Manning Provincial Park just past the northern terminus (so it’s not as remote as the southern terminus). A fellow hiker (whom I met on trail) had family in Washington that drove up to pick us up. If not for that, I would have hitched into Vancouver.
Thank you for your honesty and writing about it. I hope you never have to hike alone and that you have more sunny days in your life when you camp.
This means a lot to me.
We are all in this world together, through all kinds of mountains and rivers, and all life has to offer, We have to get through all of it, face our fears etc. You are on your way to accepting all that life has to offer, the good and the bad and the ugly, I am starting my first PCT in July 2017, I know of the mental and physical challenges, you have inspired me along with many others, it’s all part of the journey. Good Luck in life and your adventures, I hope that life hands you “Greatness”. I am Happycampergirl” on facebook, lots of adventures there also.
I really want to hike the PCT in 2017 but I am afraid that my dad does not want to come with me (even if he says he does). Since I am a woman, I would rather not hike alone, is there a way to find or contact people who feel the same way, so that I could join them?
I imagine hiking the trail with a stranger (let alone someone you know) would be incredibly difficult. You will meet a ton of people on the trail and I am sure that many will be happy to have hiking partners (even if for just a day). Moral of the story? Just start alone.
Ok, thanks, I will be more flexible and independent as well I guess. Thanks for your advice, it helps me a lot to be sure about my decision.
I’ll hike with you! cant promise we will be toe to toe the entire route but id love to have a familiar face to start with!
I’d be interested but unfortunately I can’t hike the trail in 2017, so I will probably start in 2018 but thank you for telling me though!
Roccote57
Ill be on trail then!
. My email is [email protected]
Ill be spending the next 6 months planning and preparing for the 2017 PCT hike. I want to spend 7 months on the trail.
May 2019 will be my new starting date.
Go alone, I tried treks with companions and it gets bad almost every time.I met so many interesting people, it was hard to get bored and I love the wildlife. I’ve bumped in to Bears, Mountain lions, Wolves, Wild Boars etc. You need to have control of your fears. I never had trouble falling asleep. Most of your fears are unwarranted. Most wildlife will try to avoid you, if they can. I hiked though part of the Alaskan bush, very interesting. Sure I had encounters, but know the dangers before you trek. Read about the wildlife and their habits before you start. My worst encounter was not a bear, it was a cow Moose. I blundered in between her and her calf. I had a very bad time trying to avoid her for a half hour, I finally fell in to a hole made by melting permafrost. It was really cold, but I stayed there while the moose ran around looking for me. Her calf called out and she ran to it. I stayed another ten minutes then climbed out,they were almost a half mile away. The second worst were the wild boars of Europe.Wolves never bothered me, I seldom used tents, as I love to see the stars, listen to the night sounds and owls hooting, they lulled me to sleep.
Sobering. I tend waaaaayy towards optimistic so thanks for a reality check!! Truly <3 Lightening and missing the trail?? YIKES!!
Lightning will forever scare the shit out of me.
I have recently taken up hiking and hope to start backpacking (after I can hike more than, oh, 3 miles at a time without hobbling around like an old cowboy for a week afterwards). As a person who gets very nervous stepping out onto her own side porch when it’s dark (with the porch light ON) to toss something in the trash can, I feel better knowing that people who have been sleeping outside in the pitch darkness far away from civilization for months at a time have similar challenges. I am encouraged. Although, I don’t see any tips on how not to be afraid of the dark. Do you have any tips on how not to be afraid of the dark…?
Embrace your mortality and accept that you’re going to die?
Yes, like my mom says, if it’s your time to go, it’s your time to go. I guess I’ll just make myself go stand out in the scary dark to get used to it.
Only the sounds are new.. embrace them..or ear plugs ..dark is dark..or practice sleeping outside before hike.. sounds become ur alarm clock…ie. Morning dove around dawn in rural areas west coast
oops
I always thought the bears,snakes, or bugs would be the scary part of this hike.But I never thought of the lightning.Thank you Tyler for this journal.Your a brave person to go through all that.
Thanks Bob! Lightning is a scary thing. Let us not forget nature’s fury.
Wow… finally a read that is not about “how wonderful it is to be out in God’s creation, etc, etc” but a realistic look at what you might ( will have to face). You know I thought I might try the PCT in 2015 but had my doubts as to whether or not i would truly enjoy it. After reading this my answer is “NO thanks.” I have been around and have nothing to prove to anyone and do not need to endure an endurance hike and feel as though I “Have” to finish some insane thing just because I started. Anyway thanks dude for your honesty. It wasn’t just this post that turned me against any LDH but several other trail journals and other factors… but this definitely helped me form a conclusion. I have no need at this age to crucify my flesh.
Happy to hear I have provided you with a more realistic look of what one can expect on a thru-hike. Even if you subscribe to the “smiles not miles” philosophy, hardship out on the trail is unavoidable (as is pooping in holes).
However, if you decide to change your mind and hike the PCT, chances are that it could be one of the best (and worst) experiences of your life.
Halfway Anywhere, truly an absolutely priceless set of documentation for the realities of the PCT and your Hike! thanks for taking the time to do it….I am hitting the trail in 2015 but don’t think I will have the time or tendency to document as well as you have…..the lightning? Yep! that’s the time when you get on your knees and pray to any god that will listen, hehehehe
Coastal
Thanks, Coastal!
You don’t need to meticulously document your hike, but I would suggest keeping a record of your daily miles, campsites, and highlights (talking like one sentence).
It’s incredibly easy to do and you will be happy for doing it come the end of your hike (or maybe you won’t be, but I would still give it a shot).
Good luck!
lets hit the trail in 2017 Halfway!
CDT?
Nice read Ty.
<3
I love your post! I left the trail in Big Bear I open my forehead in fuller ridge, 14 stitches! I walk 8 miles to someone pick me up in their car and took me to the hospital the longest clumsy 8 miles of my life! and I still kept pushing even some parts of the sierras but I guess I was never welcome on the trail somehow, I’m not as tuff as I thought.. :( I hope one day I’ll finish it maybe section hike it.. Love, White Owl..
Fourteen stitches! Fuller Ridge really is a bitch. Glad to hear that you’re still optimistic about getting back on the trail – good luck on your future adventures.