Was my PCT hike anything like the book “Wild?”

This afternoon, I’ll give a talk at a senior community here in Minnesota. This community is made up of some very interesting people who have done very interesting things.

They’ve worked in big companies, some they’ve built themselves. They’ve traveled. They’ve supported the arts. They’ve even hiked although they knew me first as a radio host and later as the Blissful Hiker.

My topic is walking the entire length of the Pacific Crest Trail. That was one of the most wonderful experiences of my life right smack dab in the middle of one of the worst. 

I had been double crossed by people I trusted and was left so traumatized and destabilized, my husband Richard suggested I get on trail as quickly as I could to regain my balance – even though I’d only just returned from a half year away from home in New Zealand. 

When I shared a bit of that story with the organizers of my talk, they wrote to ask me if I might explore an idea.

For those of us who have some familiarity with the book Wild by Cheryl Strayed and/or the movie of the same title starring Reese Witherspoon, I wonder if you might be able to mention how her experience, psychologically and/or physically, was similar to or different from your own experience?

Of course I said, yes! The book is superb and anyone who uses the trail to heal is my heroine!

“I knew that if I allowed fear to overtake me, my journey was doomed. Fear, to a great extent, is born of a story we tell ourselves, and so I chose to tell myself a different story from the one women are told. I decided I was safe. I was strong. I was brave. Nothing could vanquish me.” 

Cheryl Strayed

Cheryl Strayed is from Minnesotan. We have that in common. We also have in common that we’re both writers and storytellers. (Perhaps one day I’ll have a bestseller…!)

The book Wild: From Lost to Found on the Pacific Crest Trail came out in 2012, the same year I embarked on my first thru-hike (incidentally on a portion of the Pacific Crest Trail that she skipped) 

It tells the story of Strayed’s 1,000-mile walk on the PCT as she heals from loss and grief and learns to forgive herself for the pain she caused others. It’s a book of redemption and resilience and ultimately, transformation with the mountains of California and Oregon as a backdrop. 

I have always walked for solace, to get grounded, to solve problems and to just feel alive.

But while I love to explore, it’s not necessarily to conquer.

And just because I love to see what my body can do, I don’t care to count up achievements.

I do love to commune with nature, but it’s almost always about starting a conversation with nature or the wise part of myself, the one also learning to heal her broken parts and forgive herself as well as those who contributed to that brokenness. 

Like Strayed, I set my foot on the PCT because I had no idea what else to do that would help me move forward with my life. And I don’t mean in a practical sense, I mean how to set my broken heart beating again. 

Strayed and I also have this in common, our husbands helped us take our PCT journeys. In his case, it may not have been willingly as their relationship was coming to an end, but we both have people who love us so much they let us go to find our way back to ourselves.

“It had nothing to do with gear or footwear or the backpacking fads or philosophies of any particular era or even with getting from point A to point B. It had to do with how it felt to be in the wild. With what it was like to walk for miles with no reason other than to witness the accumulation of trees and meadows, mountains and deserts, streams and rocks, rivers and grasses, sunrises and sunsets. The experience was powerful and fundamental. It seemed to me that it had always felt like this to be a human in the wild, and as long as the wild existed it would always feel this way.” 

Cheryl Strayed

One of the ways Strayed and I differ is in our level experience. She carried far too much weight and was ill-prepared for an undertaking of this proportion. In the book, that part is glorified and I’m not sure it’s necessary or even smart. She was very lucky to not be seriously injured, get lost or be attacked by an animal. 

Many in our hiking community found her story sent the wrong message, that if you have enough gumption, you don’t really need to know how to do things properly. 

But I think those criticisms miss the point. She chose to place herself in an environment far from the temptation of sex and drugs as well as out of reach of relationships that were breaking apart.

She needed the challenge not only of the harsh and unforgiving outdoors, but also of being alone with herself and learn to make good decisions.

“The beautiful thing about going alone is that every triumph is yours, every consequence of every mistake is yours, everything that you have to figure out is on you. That’s a really powerful experience. And sometimes it is beautiful and positive and exciting, and sometimes it’s negative and hard and lonely. I wanted that. I welcomed that.”

Cheryl Strayed

For me, the trail forces a reckoning with life. It’s like joining a convent and sitting in prayer day after day until answers arrive. Or maybe a better comparison would be wandering the desert to face down my demons. 

Truthfully, sex, drugs and rock-n-roll are readily available on trail, so it’s not a done deal when you enter the space. You have to choose how to use the time.

If you’re brave enough to strip away all the vanities of life, even your own identity, you might be rewarded with finding out what truly abides, what really matters and a sense of purpose that keeps you walking forward in a life that oftentimes takes a course you would prefer it wouldn’t.

The trail will kick your ass but it also has the power to change you from the inside out.

I’ll give the last word to Strayed. 

“There’s always a sunrise and always a sunset and it’s up to you to choose to be there for it,’ said my mother. ‘Put yourself in the way of beauty.” 

Cheryl Strayed