PCT - The desert

What do you imagine when you think about the desert? A wide, dry wasteland with sand wherever you look. No shade to hide under and no water. The sun high up in the sky, burning down on you while you wipe the salty sweat out of your face. You walk in a straight line for hours in search of a good place to set up camp. The hallucinations continue, and you realize your mind is playing games. The desert is not flat and dry.

When I started planing for my hike, this is what I thought the desert was like. But 2019 turned out to be a super bloom year. A high snow year on the PCT does not only mean a lot of snow in the mountains, but also more filled streams in the desert and a flower bloom so beautiful I will never forget it. Flowers of yellow, orange and purple all along the hills and mountains of otherwise dry bushland and rocky, sandy ground. I have never seen such beauty before. A landscape so wide it is absolutely mesmerizing to walk through. I was lucky that a lot of the water sources were filled for us this year. But of course it was not as easy as I make it out to be. Just because there was more water didn't mean there was enough. We were still dependent on talking to each other, using maps and locals to locate good water sources on trail. We had to camel up (drink a lot and fill up every bottle at a good source) before moving on and be resourceful with what we carried in case we had to dry camp.

• Dry camp: Camp without a water source
• Wet camp: Camp near a good water source

On the PCT we are really lucky to be surrounded by trail angels. Those are incredible people who make it their mission of making our hike a little bit easier by providing food, water, a ride, laundry or a place to sleep. During some stretches of no water at all, they would set canisters with gallons and gallons of water for us to use and refill our bottles until we reach the next good source. I believe that without some of the water caches, it would have been an incredibly difficult hike and water carry. So thank you to every single human being for providing such support. It is much appreciated.

The heat was something that was not as bad as I imagined it at the beginning. The heat that nearly finished me off came a bit later when I reached the Mojave Desert, I got to a point where I was so hot that I honestly thought I was not going to make it to the next water source. I had never been so overheated in my entire life. But this is a different story. Starting the desert was not as bad as I had thought, we even had some snow. I started off the PCT slow and easy to gain my trail legs. I was still sore at night, but absolutely loving just walking into the day and finding incredible camp spots in the evening. The dirt that was stuck to my face and legs, shirt and hair is crazy and after looking into the mirror for the first time in 6 days with no makeup and wild hair made me incredibly happy. Soon after my first 100 miles I did have to change my shoes as I made the terrible mistake of wearing barefoot shoes. My feet did not appreciate it, and I listened. With new shoes came a new swing in my step that carried me into the San Jacinto Mountains, where I was confronted with snow for the first time. We teamed up as the traversing was a bit steep. I was extremely glad that I carried my microspikes from the start. I face-planted at the 300-mile marker, bathed in hot springs, and visited the most remote and randomly located McDonald's.

Mount Baden Powell was skipped by me as I did not have an ice axt with me and the snow was too intense to attempt a climb. My goal was to make it to Canada in one piece and not roll down a mountain earlier. Going into Wrightwood felt like my first win. It is such a beautiful little hiker town, with free power outlets, a backpack parking lot and tons of trail angels who host you for the night. On day 26 I had hiked over 400 miles and was finally finding my groove.

0500: Time to wake up to the sound of nature and the sunlight raising upon my tent.

0505-0525: I roll around in my quilt, not wanting to get up and out. Force myself to get changed and take my vitamins. While sitting in my quilt for as long as possible, I start packing up the inside of my tent.

In our little trail family we have a ritual. DaddyLlama is always the first up and out but 2Times, Sunshine, and I have our own little system going once we hike together. I wake up and do my thing. As soon as I start packing up my sleeping gear, Sunshine (who waits for me to pack up) starts waking up and moving in his tent. Once I start taking down my Zpacks, 2Times gets active and as soon as the first trekking pole falls on the ground, you can hear his sleeping pad deflate and that is the 15-minute warning for Sunshine to now get up and pack up because 2Times (who has a sub-15 morning routine) and I are ready to go.

0530: I put my headlamp on and start walking. 

0535–1230: I hike, I snack, I hike, I snack and keep walking until lunchtime.

1230–1330: I eat some more. I normally aim for a 30- to 45-minute or one-hour break. Air out my feet, soak them if there is a water source, hydrate, and eat some more

1330–1700: I hike some more, snack some more, listen to music or my podcast for the last five miles to distract me from the pain in my feet that is slowly starting to creep in. And just walk and walk and walk. 

1700–1900: I set up my tent in the designated camp spot I found or decided on in the morning, make dinner, write in my journal, and fall asleep.

The last part of the desert was filled with obstacles. From a panic attack on the mountain, to sketchy snow traverses to a family loss while being in the middle of nowhere, I was feeling it all. Being in the middle of nowhere, dealing with all those feelings, was definitely a challenging time for me. On the one side it was incredibly hard being out there with all of these emotions, on the other side it felt really healing having the time and space to be with my thoughts. I walk in nature to feel grounded, to be with myself, and to hear myself think. And I thought a lot. I mean, what else is there to do when you hike the entire day. Were there days when I wanted nothing more than to quit? Absolutely, but I made a promise to myself to not quit on a bad day. And I was lucky enough that my bad days were always followed by a good one.

After painting a rock and dancing for my PCT bandana (which is kind of a tradition), doing the obligatory karaoke and dance party at the 500-mile marker, it was time to walk the L.A Aqueduct. Hiking in the desert, there is nothing more frustrating not having a reliable water source but having to walk miles and miles of flat trail on the L.A Aqueduct. It is a very long pip providing water supply to communities and cities nearby. So while I walked on top, I could hear the water rushing under my feet. What I would have done to just drill a hole and jump into the fresh and cold water. Another life lesson the PCT provides.

On day 41, 1st of May 2019, I finished the desert and reached Kennedy Meadows. The trail had led me through the desert. I just felt so at home on the three-foot wide little dirt path. I didn't know what was around the next corner and I didn’t know who I met, what I was going to see and experience, or what challenges I had to face, but I had faith, I felt safe, and I had trust that this little path will lead me to Canada.