Backpacking

It’s just what my family did. My parents went backpacking on their honeymoon, and when I came along they weren’t about to do something as silly as wait for me to be able to walk by myself before getting on the trail again. I was three the first time I hiked a substantial portion on my own – 7 miles up Mt. Hood to Paradise Park, carrying my own little backpack (which contained nothing more than my sleeping bag).

Dreams

I’ve wanted to hike the PCT for as long as I can remember. I met a couple of through hikers the summer between high school and college, and they were instantly my heroes. That was going to be me, once I was done with college and had the freedom to take five months out of my life for this. I almost did a portion of the trail the summer of ’14, but I got a job at the Portland Japanese Garden instead. In some ways I was relieved because I wanted to do the whole thing all at once anyways.

Quarter of a Century

I learned that the PCT had been officially completed in 1993, the same year that I was born. From this came the idea that I’d hike the trail in 2018 to celebrate both mine and the trail’s 25th birthday at the same time. I lived frugally (as I always have), and I saved up every penny I could for the coming adventure. I biked and I ran and I hiked; I would be prepared for this trail.

Plans

Nothing goes according to plan. Ever.

The Roof

January 1, 2017. Being me at 23 wasn’t easy; I’d already nearly died in September after spending all summer dizzy because of weird ear issues. Then less than 24 hours into 2017 I fell off of a roof and broke my back. In case you wondered, those medical bills are not cheap. All of the money I’d worked so hard and so long to save…. I’m glad I had it to sustain me in 2017, but now here we are. It’s 2018, I still want to hike the PCT, but I can’t afford any of the fancy gear I’d hoped to buy on top of a plane ticket down to the border with Mexico and the cost of mailing myself the food and other supplies I’ll need along the way.

Not to mention, I broke my back. It healed remarkably fast and remarkably well, but L1 and L2 are weird shaped and missing 25% and 30% of their original height forever. A year ago today I wasn’t allowed to lift more than 10 pounds, and while that restriction has lifted, I do still have to be much more careful about carrying heavy things than I ever had to in the past.

Solution

DIY, minimalist backpacking, and upping the intensity of my Physical Therapy exercises. I’m borrowing a friend’s copy of Ray Jardine’s Beyond Backpacking, and I’m going to make this work some way some how. Because my feet are itching, so it’s time to scratch that itch on a 2,650 mile long trek.

After all, what better way to celebrate the fact that I beat the odds so spectacularly? I broke my back at 23, but I envision beginning year 25 of life stronger than ever. Picture the Gracetopher: April 15, 2018, officially a quarter of a century old, standing on the border with Mexico, broke-back kid with a backpack anyways. Hiking northward towards Canada.