Big News
November 19th - Spokane, Washington
Hello everyone,
If there's one thing that I've learned over the course of two years and 1,300 articles for The Verge, it's that you put the news right at the top, so here it is: I'm officially going to be hiking the Pacific Crest Trail next year.
For those of you who haven't had to hear me talk about this every waking moment of every day for the past... while, let me do a quick summary of what that means. The PCT, as it's known, is an approximately 2,600 mile hiking trail that runs from the Mexican border in California, up through Oregon and Washington, ending at the Canadian border. My goal is to hike all of it.
It's not an easy endeavor. Although statistics for this kind of thing are always a bit iffy, the general consensus is that only around a fifth of the people who set out to do what I want to do actually succeed. What makes me think I'll be able to? Not much, if I'm being perfectly honest -- but I'm stubborn, and I'll try my best.
It takes a long time to travel that far on foot, especially if you're loaded down by a backpack carrying everything you need to survive in it (plenty of water in the desert, warm clothing in northern Washington, a heavy bear can to keep your food safe in the Sierra Nevada mountains). I'll be starting on April 21st, 2023, a date that's non-negotiable as the PCT has a permitting system that's designed to keep too many people from using the trail, and destroying what everyone loves about it. I learned that I officially got my permit for that start date in early November.
As for when I'm planning on finishing, I can't say for sure. On average, it takes people anywhere from four to six months to hike the whole thing, though there are some that do it faster. My hope is to be done before the end of August, but obviously there's a lot of things that can happen in the span of four and a half months, and over 2,000 miles of walking.
If you're wondering if there's any way you'll be able to keep track of me as I hike, you're in luck, because that's what this email is about. While I'm very purposefully not going to be posting anything about my journey on the internet, I do want to have some way of sharing photos, updates, and other things as I go along -- I think doing so will help keep me sane. (As difficult as walking that far may sound, it's as much a mental challenge as it is a physical one.)
My plan is to have some sort of email newsletter that I sent out to friends and family who are interested. I can't promise that they'll be as long as this, and I'm not sure how frequent they'll be; right now I'm thinking I'd like to do them whenever I'm in town to resupply, which will probably be roughly every 5-10 days, but it really just depends.
If you want to receive this email newsletter, reply to this email letting me know, and I'll add you to the list. I've also got a GPS device that 1) lets me contact search and rescue in case of emergency, 2) lets me text people even when I don't have cell signal and 3) lets people track me on a map. If you want to be able to see where I'm at while on the trail, let me know and I'll figure out how to give you access to that data.
Now, I'm sure you've got some questions. Let me try to answer some of them.
Why on earth would you want to do such a thing?
I don't have a simple, one-sentence explanation for you. Lots of people do it because they want to really get away from society and out into nature for a while, some people do it as a physical challenge, and (as documented in the book Wild by Cheryl Strayed) some people do it because they really want to escape their lives. Personally, it just seems like a lot of fun, even though I know that I'll spend a good portion of it being kind of miserable thanks to the desert heat, mosquitos, and endless mountain climbs.
I have had the pleasure of talking to several people who have hiked portions or all of the PCT, and one thing they've all said is that it completely changes the way you look at the world and society. I guess I'm looking for that in some way, though I have no idea what that change will be like.
What about your job?
While nothing's official yet, my intent is to leave my job at The Verge at the beginning of April and find a new job when I get home. My hope is that, for the time being anyways, it'll be doing literally anything other than making things for the internet. I've been doing that since I was five, and I just have to take a break. I'm not saying that I'll never return to posting things online, but I do expect there’ll be a very long pause.
In terms of what I do want to do, there are a lot of local conservation and trail-building organizations that I've been volunteering for over the past few years. If none of them have jobs available when I get back, I'll look at what the Washington State Department of Natural Resources, Spokane county parks and recreation department, and Department of Fish and Wildlife have to offer. And if none of those organizations are hiring... well, it'll almost be the holiday season by the time I get back, and I'm absolutely certain I'll be able to get a job at REI or the local Amazon warehouses if I get really desperate.
What about Becky?
She's not going to be hiking with me, and I will admit that she is not exactly thrilled that I'm leaving for five months. But she also understands that this is something I've dreamed about for years, and that I'd regret not doing it. As for what she'll do when I'm away, she's been considering a few things. So far she's mentioned joining a gym, visiting some of our friends in Seattle, hanging out with co-workers, and trying to get a job at her credit union's headquarters (her determination to leave the branch and frontline service in general seem matched only by STCU's determination to keep her there forever).
What about Aslan?
Is it weird to admit that this is one of my biggest concerns? Becky is a human who understands where I'm going, what I'm doing, and who I can communicate with through texts and phone calls. But Aslan is just a cat, and one who's had my near-constant companionship since he was a kitten.
This is just a long-winded way of saying that we're planning on getting another cat so he has a companion, and won't feel alone when I'm gone and Becky's at work. God help us.
Have you gone insane?
No. Or at least if I did it was a very long time ago. As I mentioned before, I've wanted to do the PCT for years, and have been actively plotting on it pretty much ever since I moved to Washington. This was not a spur-of-the-moment decision; I decided I would apply for permits for the 2023 hiking season at some point in 2020, and have been saving money since early 2021. I've got around $14,000 saved up, outside of our normal savings and a very healthy emergency fund. I expect that I'll actually spend less than half of that on the hike; the rest is meant to replace the income that I'll no longer be earning, so Becky doesn't have to make drastic lifestyle changes (and, importantly, so we don't have to move before I head out).
What have you done to prepare? How do I know you won't die out there?
This is old news to some of you, but perhaps the biggest thing I've done to prepare was hiking the Tahoe Rim Trail in August, which is a 180-mile loop in Northern California that shares dozens of miles with the PCT. Over the course of 10 days I learned what it was like to actually do a thru-hike, where you wake up, break camp, walk, and then set camp back up every day. I also figured out a lot of things that you just can't learn from YouTube videos, books, and articles (even though I have soaked up a monstrous amount of information about trail life from all of those sources).
As for being generally fit enough to do this sort of thing, that's actually not as much of a problem as you'd think. Plenty of people start the trail being reasonably out of shape, and the constant hiking beats them into a sculpted walking machine. Of course, that sounds... relatively unpleasant, so I do want to be healthy when I start the trail. To that end I've been running (ew) or rock climbing (don't worry about it) pretty much every day, as well as going on plenty of walks and hikes.
Are you doing this alone?
That depends on what you mean. I'm not starting the trail with anyone that I know, and don't have plans for people to come out and hike significant sections with me. So by some metrics yes, I am "doing it alone." However, it is an extremely popular trail, with over a million people hiking it each year (though obviously many of those are day hikers for whom it's just their local walking spot). There will be 50 people starting the same day as me at the same spot, and around 50 people will be starting per day, every day, in April. One of the best parts of the trail is the community; the people you meet, the friends you make, and the strangers that help you out along the way. I may be starting the trail "alone," but I can guarantee I won't be finishing it that way.
What about insurance?
Yeah, I don't want to talk about that one, I'm still trying to figure it out.
I have more questions.
Feel free to send them my way, via email, phone, or carrier pigeon. I'm still around and easy to contact for the next 131 days (but who's counting?).
—
Love, Mitchell