15th April 2025

So today was not the start to our PCT adventure we had expected. A series of things went wrong before they began getting better.

The first thing was the smoke detector began beeping in our motel room shortly after settling into bed, informing us it was running out of battery. Unable to fix it we had to change rooms. This perhaps wouldn’t have been such a problem if it wasn’t for the fact that I had spread out all my bag contents on the motel floor.

Secondly, on our way to REI and Walmart I realised I had forgotten the re-supply plan that I had printed off, leaving it back at the motel. It had taken me an age to prepare. We therefore blindly made up a plan as we filled our shopping trolley, ultimately ending up with too much food and unsure how many boxes to buy.

We bought enough food for over two weeks yet had only brought one 40L backpack to carry it all. We then had to slog our way with the heavy pack to REI. On the way I stepped on a spiky stick which penetrated the rubber sole of my shoes, hitting my foot. Luckily my foot is fine, but after pulling the stick out I now have a hole at the bottom of my runners as a reminder of the incident. Just what you need before you start a hike right? 

But the cherry on top of the cake was feeling something warm and wet splat on my head and arm. Yep, that’s right, some bird did not feel the need to dig a cat hole to relieve themselves and now I have bird poo tangled up in my hair.

People say birds taking a dump on your head is a sign of good luck, but I’m a firm believer that people only say this because really, what else can you say to someone who just been pooped on? I certainly did not feel lucky walking into REI, hot sweaty and self-conscious about the fact I now smelt of bird poo.

However, our venture to REI did prove to be the turning point of our luck. Seeing the ‘welcome class of 2025 PCT hikers’ sign brought home how real this dream was becoming. And then, for the first time we met our fellow hikers: a couple from Boston, people we would be sharing the trail with. They were a tonic to our bad luck that morning, and soon my excitement felt reestablished. This was real.

Once back at the motel we sorted through food (pictured above), packing it in box’s and sending it out; one to Julien and the other to Paradise Valley Cafe. We weren’t going to see this food again until we had at least completed 77 miles.