The Pacific Crest Trail: The Path That Runs Through My Heart
The Pacific Crest Trail (known as the PCT to anyone who is hip and cool), is, as of late, a tragic story. Running from the US/Mexico border through California, Oregon, and Washington, and ending near the US/Canada border, this trail has long been a focus of endurance athletes. This focus is understandable, given that the path takes hikers and runners through deserts and mountains, into multiple national parks, and past spectacular volcanos. It truly is something special, and every year hundreds of people set out to trek its 2,653 miles (Damn, trail be looonnnggg!).
But then we have the fact that, as a collective, the human species really is terrible. In 2021 (last year), the enormous Dixie Fire in California, which also raged through about 60% of Lassen Volcanic National Park, disseminated about eighty miles of vegetation and landscape along the trail’s route. And this wasn’t the first time that wildfire, drought, and other human-induced-climate-change-related crisis (say that five times fast, without the hyphens) has had an impact on the PCT. (Read more about this in this excellent SFGate article).
As global temperatures continue to rise, and as humans and their ridiculous politicians (who I would argue are probably closer in form to some type of vampire-like creature that eats only campaign contributions and poops only political power) continue to deny, scape goat, feet drag, and do whatever else they can to stick their heads in the sand, the future of the trail is looking bleak. Thru-hiking (doing it all at once, because why not) as it has been known may be done. Instead, some people are now content to hike the PCT in sections, taking in its beauty and wonder over the period of multiple years. But just the fact that this journey must now be broken into segments for reasons of preventable climate hardship is utterly heart breaking.
The silver lining, if there is one to be had in all of this, is that the PCT, beyond everything else, is a spectacular collaboration between humankind and nature (Human’s providing the physical trail, and nature taking care of everything else.) And it is one that should be celebrated and exalted whenever the opportunity arises.
In this spirit, my dog and I have been sampling very small segments of the PCT over the past year (He’s trying to convince me to thru hike, but only if I agree to carry him the entire way). In 2021, we hiked the path twice, covering both directions at the Donner Pass trailhead, near Truckee, California. The first time we went, we hiked the southern part of the trail, stomping over its dusty surface, and making our way across terrain that, in winter, serves as the ski slope for a local ski resort. It was warm that day, and the dog was hot and droopy. In typical defiance, he allowed his bushy tail to drag in the dirt, guaranteeing that half of the sierra’s soil would be making the drive home with us.
Our second trip, to the same location, was in cooler weather. However, this was due only to the fact that the enormous Caldor fire was burning near the Tahoe region, and the air was thick with smoke and haze. During the hike, we made our way northward (I think that was the direction we went, but I get lost in my own house, so don’t take my word for it), and enjoyed climbing up steep inclines (I did at least), walking through forested areas, and peeing on any tree close to the path (That was the dog…mostly…).
Loves Falls, in all its splendor
Fast forward to this spring, and both the dog and I have now enjoyed two more hikes along the PCT. In mid-May, we took a drive down Highway 49, and caught the trail where it intersects and crosses the road. About a quarter mile down the path is Loves Falls, a small waterfall on the North Yuba River. We didn’t linger here long, and probably only hiked for about half an hour, but we were able to take in a lovely mid-afternoon atmosphere as we crossed the bridge over the water and made our way uphill and into the woods.
Later in the month, on Memorial Day, we once again drove into the Sierras, this time catching the trail at Carson Pass, off Highway 88. Originally intending to hike to Showers Lake, the dog and I ventured fourth, clearing the wooded area past the trailhead, and ascending a wildflower covered hillside, before climbing to its top, and descending again into a…snow covered trail.
Snow capped peaks, as seen from the Pacific Crest Trail
You see, even though it was during the unofficial start of summer, the Sierra snow had decided to overstay its welcome, and lingered over the landscape longer than it really should have. As we started to make our way down into another stretch of forest, the snow covering became more extensive. We were able to successfully navigate our way off the descending hillside, but each time I would reach the edge of the snow, my weight (I’m 360 lbs. – fat but fit baby!) would break through the surface, and I would plunge ass first into whatever melt stream flowed below. The final straw came when we approached a rushing creek and, you guessed it, I stepped on the edge of the ice and end up butt down in the water again. To his credit, the dog did nothing to help during this time, instead deciding to scowl at me from the other side of the trail and look annoyed when it took me a minute to scramble up from my water prison and back onto solid land.
Blooming spring flowers found along the PCT
Regardless of these small setbacks (and a wet ass and soaked boots), we simply decided to turn around. We made our way slowly back to our car while enjoying the beautiful mountain sights that stretched for miles across the horizon.
In our brief encounters so far, the PCT has been good to us. The dog has enjoyed its landscape and numerous trees, and I have felt a connection to not only nature, but to the possibilities that lie ahead and beyond. The trail links humanity across a broad distance. When hiking the trail, there is a hope mixed with a sense of freedom and exploration. On the PCT I feel alive. On the PCT, I am at peace.
So, although we must acknowledge the realities of the world, and continue to fight to change climate wrongs, we must also continue to enjoy the Pacific Crest Trail as the gift it is. Given the current state of things, there is little indication that the PCT will always be the same going forward, so let us live in the moment, and soak it in as it is today.
For more information on the Pacific Crest Trail, check out the Pacific Crest Trail Association.
Note: This will not be the last entry on this topic. Later this summer, my furry hiking companion and I are planning to catch the PCT for a few miles along its Oregon route. So stay tuned here for a future update.