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PCT or CDT, which thru hike is better?
Bea brushes baguette crumbs from the table (THAT baguette in Mazama, IYKYK) , pulling up the PCTA website. “Look,” she says, “there are still southbound permits left.” I glance at my pack, my gear ready for a new chapter - or maybe the revival of an old one. For a second, I let myself imagine switching trails, ditching the CDT, and returning to the trail I love most.
PCT thru hikers have rich parents
*this post contains irony, consume content at your own risk and with a grain of salt "How do you afford this?" "You must have rich
Sadness smells like waffles – Crazy Cook is serving
"Great for tea", I murmur as I pour warm water from the jerry can into my dented bottles. But I am too thirsty to care. My last full day of hiking before the terminus has gone by fast and I was excited to be done. I sit in the sand, leaning my back against the metal bear box. Ahead, the mountains rise, their rugged peaks etched against the boundless desert sky. And that’s when sadness flowed through my chest. I won't hike over these mountains or any. Tomorrow there wouldn’t be the next climb or the next pass of the CDT anymore. 25 miles to the Mexican border from here.
How to time travel and a hidden brewery on the CDT
I smile, thinking about the first few weeks in Montana. All the forbidden foods that feel justified on a thru hike: cookies and gummy bears, ice cream, peanut butter cups, Nutella, bagels. Plus as a European, the joy of exploring supermarkets in a foreign country. My favourite snack discovery during the CDT: Nerd clusters! The sunset is painting the sky in shades of orange and pink when I carry my groceries back to the hotel. Repackage everything into ziplocks ONE LAST TIME. I feel ready.
The Gila – please schedule your breakdowns
The canyon feels too alive after dark. I hear animals splashing across the river nearby, their movements echoing off the cliffs. Then, something ventures too close to my camp. I grab my headlamp, the beam cutting through the night to reveal a pair of curious eyes - and the unmistakable black-and-white fur of a skunk. “What a wild place,” I murmur, lowering the light as the skunk waddles away. I turn over, listening to the canyon’s symphony of rustling leaves and distant animal calls while falling asleep.
CDT: the nicest farmer in all of New Mexico
I glance at the horizon, where the sky blushes faintly as the sun dips lower. What if I keep going? Past the terminus, past the expectations? Plenty of thru hikers do - moving from one trail to the next, keeping the momentum alive like a stone forever rolling downhill.
CDT: 50+ mile days and the boulder boys 🍝
"I make sure my wife always has one with her too. You can, just like this...", he mimics a quick swing through the air, the rusty blade cutting a jagged arc in the space between us. "You just..." He gestures again, a sharp motion through the air, as if slicing through an invisible threat. "Like this. If you need to. They will leave you alone" The sight of his rough, worn hands handling the rusted tool with such familiarity makes the gesture feel both absurd and somehow sincere. "Thank you, I am good" "I'll sleep better tonight if you take it"
CDT: be gentle with me, New Mexico
Back in the summer, I would have been nervous - three armed men in the wilderness while I hiked alone was a scenario that once unsettled me. But months on the trail had changed that. I’d met hunters, chatted with them, learned about their craft, and started to understand the pull of the hunt. Now, I felt no fear, just curiosity. Confidently, I stepped forward, closing the distance between us. But before I could call out a friendly hello, I noticed their demeanor shift. Their movements became tense, deliberate. Their heads swiveled as they scanned the trees around them. “Dang,” I thought, “they must have spotted an animal. Better be quiet and not ruin it.” I crept forward, suddenly excited at the idea of maybe witnessing a shot in action.
CDT: heartbreak and relief, good bye Colorado
I don’t get upset when no car stops. Not today though. Today I’m cold, I wanna get my chores done and head to the state border. Bye bye, Colorado. I love you, but my body is worn and tired, I want the sun on my face and some flat ground under my soles. It's time for the last state of my CDT sobo thru hike: New Mexico.
CDT: bees and the worst day on trail
“Good!” the other one. I don’t know if they’re truly this cheery coming down the mudslide I’m trying to go up or if they’re just wildly amused by my appearance. My hair is standing in all directions from under my hood, my bare legs are covered in scratches and mud, there’s dirt on my face and I’m stomping through the forest like an angry troll. Suddenly, I can’t help but smile too. This IS ridiculous. I should set up my tent somewhere and try to get warm and dry instead of shivering out here.