Here’s What I Wish I Knew Before Hiking the Pacific Crest Trail

At the time, I thought I was a genius.

I was about 250 miles into the Pacific Crest Trail, still a relative novice. It was lunchtime, and as I looked through my food bag, I saw the usual suspects: ramen packets, peanut butter, and lots of high calorie snacks. I considered getting out my stove and cooking a “ramen bomb”—combining the noodles with dried mashed potatoes and peanut butter for a dense glob of sodium and fat—but I was feeling lazy and knew I still had miles to go. Then it hit me: What if I could have that same meal with less effort?

I took the dry blocks of rice noodles, spread peanut butter between them, sprinkled the seasoning over it, and put them together. The first bite of my ramen peanut butter sandwich made a bit of a mess, but I persisted through the rest of the dry, crunchy creation. For the rest of the day, I felt amazing. I crushed miles through the pines, feeling full of energy and pulling into camp in the early evening.

Unfortunately, my love affair with my new creation didn’t last: The next time I tried it, the novelty had worn off and I realized that it was borderline inedible. I could barely crunch my way through half. My experiments in unflavored chia seed oatmeal, cold-soaked rice and beans, and Pop Tart-peanut butter tortilla wraps didn’t perform much better.

Food challenged me time and time again on the PCT, as I looked for creative ways to get down my calories, save on weight and time, and eat things I enjoyed. But the importance of food was just one of many insights I wish I’d had pre-trail. Here’s what I wish I had known when I set off.

Know what you like to eat before you start.

Most of the preparation I did for the PCT was physical. I went on day hikes, did mountain trail runs, and made sure my body was ready for the challenge. What I didn’t do was spend time finding foods that hit the sweet spot of flavor, nutrition, and weight. A couple of months into my journey, I was still experimenting with snack and meal combinations, and I’m not sure that I ever did get it right. Some of my main learnings: Flavor packets are your friend, a little dried fruit can go a long way, and Annie’s White Cheddar Mac n’ Cheese never gets old.

The side quests are always worth the added time and miles

My group was tired by the time we entered Yosemite National Park. We had endured suncups, 2 a.m. alarms, and the challenges of snow hiking for over three weeks. Now, the first road we’d crossed in 240 miles was closed. Our only way into Yosemite Valley was a 25-mile downhill hike, something we were all dreading. But as the sun lit up the granite around us on the morning of July 4, we instantly knew the 50 extra miles were worth it. We hiked past Vernal and Nevada Falls, gazed up at Half Dome, and entered an oasis of civilization. A kind man named Big Ocho offered to buy us pizza in Curry Village, and we washed it down with cold beers as we gave our weary legs a rest.

Whether it’s an ostrich farm, a raging waterfall, or just an ice cream with friends, the fun adventures to be had just off the trail are one of the best parts of hiking the PCT. The miles will be there when you get back.

Talk to the townies.

The PCT can be a bit of a bubble. When you are hiking, the vast majority of people you’re interacting with are affiliated with the trail in some way: other thru-hikers, section hikers, trail angels, and so on. This community is friendly, supportive, and generous, but limiting your social experience to just them would be a missed opportunity. The trail passes through or near dozens of vibrant towns, and the people who live there have just as many stories to share as you do. Take the time to go to a local bar and chat up the locals. You never know what you might learn.

Make some plans for afterward.

The post-trail blues are real. For 2,650 miles, you’ve had a crystal-clear sense of purpose, a simple goal, and the gratification of achieving it step by step. Then, you head home. What awaits you there is your choice. For me, I figured I would decide my next move after I was done. But while having some time to rest was lovely, I ended up falling into a depression, spending most of my day in my childhood bed watching YouTube videos rather than planning my next adventure. Having some sort of plans for after you’re done, like a fun trip with loved ones, a seasonal job, or even just a place to live, will set you up for success as you navigate your way back into society.