As one might guess, our PCT hike of 2020 ended up looking quite different from how we initially pictured it. We had it all planned out – I would graduate in March 2020, we would start at the Mexican border in April 2020, and we would end triumphantly at the Canadian border in September 2020, having hiked a continuous footpath through some of the most beautiful areas of Washington, Oregon, and California.
Not so. As anyone who is reading this knows, COVID-19 bulldozed our plans. March 2020 was a crazed mess. I had planned to graduate with my Ph.D., visit my friend in Europe, take a sun-filled vacation to Malta, and get back in time to pack before heading to San Diego to start the PCT – precisely in that order. None of those things happened, except getting my Ph.D., which at that point felt like more of a relief than anything else. With the rising case numbers, the stay-at-home orders along the West Coast, and the Pacific Crest Trail Association begging hikers to cancel their hikes, we felt that we could not in good conscience attempt a thru-hike of the PCT starting in April.
My one ray of hope during Lockdown Part I was that perhaps things would be better in the summer, and we could hike part of the trail starting in July. Given COVID, we thought it would make more sense to start in our home state of Washington, head south, and see how far we could get. I guessed that with the time we had before I started working in October, we would be able to make it through Washington and Oregon (if COVID didn’t royally screw things up).
Our plan was to stay at home in between our first few sections, since the trailheads were reasonably close by. This way we wouldn’t have to worry about mailing resupplies or staying at hotels, while enjoying the comforts of home (and also being able to switch out our gear as we figured out what we really needed on trail). After Snoqualmie Pass, we would continue heading south without stopping at home. We enlisted some very, very kind family and friends to drive us to and from the trailheads, and came up with an approximate schedule.
Since we were now stuck at home for an extra 3 months, we decided to take a stab at dehydrating our own meals. We went for vegan meals only since I was afraid of having dairy or meat spoil (also, vegan is better for the environment!). Lip Smackin’ Vegetarian Backpacking, a book of dehydrated vegetarian trail recipes, was crucial to this effort. There were several weeks when our garage smelled like dehydrated spaghetti sauce, there were Food Saver bags everywhere, and the kitchen counter was covered in coconut milk powder. Our basement den was full of bags of food, toiletries, maps, and other accessories that we wanted to send in each resupply.
I want to note: if it wasn’t a pandemic year, we would have simply resupplied at grocery stores in towns that we would hitchhike to along the way. Maybe we would mail ourselves some ready-made trail meals or supplies from the trail, but we would mostly be able to get our food and supplies in town. If we needed paper maps, we could print them at the local library or the hotel. However, due to COVID we wanted to avoid hitchhiking, public transit, and interaction with others whenever humanly possible. Therefore, we decided to mail ourselves all resupplies. It was quite the logistical nightmare. I was trying to figure out where we would be, how much our appetite would have increased, and what we would want to eat 6 weeks down the line. I didn’t do a terrible job of predicting these things, but I would not recommend it.
My other preparations involved hiking on local trails with a loaded backpack a couple of times a week, as well as obsessively searching for last minute pieces of gear. I tried to hike 8-10 miles each time, though sometimes it was less. We stayed at home and did virtual game nights, online fitness classes, and lots of cooking while waiting for the case numbers to go down.
Finally, the moment of truth arrived. Cases went down, and the lockdown was lifted. And we felt it was safe for us to start our journey.
WanderLiz 