We all know them, or have at least seen them in town or on trail. Most look like some variation of a migrating turtle, donning garb that presents an air of homelessness, but instead each item they wear or carry can easily cost over $500. They exude a sense of carefree happiness that can only be found by walking for months on end.
They flock to the trail either to escape, to be refilled, or possibly recharged. Their priorities in life are often different than the average person’s, yet they are highly self-determined, both on and off trail. These little-known transients are thru-hikers.
Why are thru-hikers so happy on trail, and what keeps them coming back time and time again, thousands of miles later to do it all over again? It is because they have the three things they need to be content as humans, and it isn’t something you can hold in your hand. The long journey gives them autonomy, a shared experience, and the feeling of living a purposeful life.
In comparison with their normal lives off trail, thru-hikers can make every decision they are faced with. A happy-go-lucky southbound hiker in her early 20’s told me how much she loved choosing her own schedule on trail. “You can do shorter or longer days and be flexible. You don’t get that in a job or even in life.”
The only other hiker I met on the PCT who flip-flopped said to me one night from her tent that on trail we are “free from society’s constraints…no bills or gas to put in my car. [There’s] no news or advertising out here.” The lack of responsibilities she had on trail was freeing in itself to her, letting her focus only what what really mattered.
Other hikers said something similar, in that they are “free from short to-do lists and city living,” and their thoughts are their own on the trail, unlike the “real world you have to think for others like your boss or for other people.” With fewer things to worry about and each choice completely their own, thru-hikers find joy in the process each day because they can call it their own.
Every thru-hiker has a purpose: to get to the trail terminus. Simple yet profound, they have a looming motivation that shines bright like a fluorescent sign in their minds. Though exact motivations differ between each hiker, there is nevertheless an impending goal to reach and a renewed sense of purpose, combined with the ability to choose exactly how to complete each step along the way.
A hiker who had resigned from a large tech company spoke of the simplicity in purpose on the trail, in that “on the trail it’s just food, water, and shelter.” Not having to worry about things like “am I reading the right book on Obama’s book list, etc.,” allowed him to focus on his new purpose of hiking over 2,650 miles. Another hiker with a similar mindset echoes the fact that “professional identity doesn’t matter [on trail], but we take on those roles that have no meaning [off trail].”
Some hikers wanted to “prove to myself that I could do this,” while others had “one goal – getting to the finish.” At the same time, however, thru-hikers still want to “meet new people,” “see cool things,” and “broaden perspectives.” But regardless of whether their purpose is to challenge themselves physically or to finish the entire hike, their purpose carrot is dangling in front of them the entire way.
Connecting with others around us is too often underrated and undervalued in the affect it can have on us. Whether thru-hikers are solo or with a group, they still share their experience with other like-minded individuals with the same goal of at least reaching the finish.
The trail provides the social tribe we are historically accustomed to, which is why so many hikers instantly relate to one another. A young but strong hiker explained to me her relationship with her trail family and how they helped one another. “I got through the tough times because of my trail family…[I could] rely on them…I value the times I could lean on people. I couldn’t have done it without them.”
A Washington native admitted, “I’ve never felt so accepted [on trail].” Another young hiker who went on to thru-hike the Continental Divide Trail after her PCT thru-hike was excited about her trail interactions. “I have thrived in this social setting. I love the shared experience…I don’t think I could do this alone.” A 60-year-old hiker from the west coast shared her sentiment, saying he was surprised by how well he fit in, “even with the 20-year-olds. I was reinvigorated by their energy.”
If the last human freedom is to choose one’s own way, then thru-hikers have unquestionably found the way to gain volition over their lives. If they ever lost purpose or meaning in the everyday minutia, they’ve found it in stride on their walk. And if they were missing human connection either at work or otherwise, they could be themselves on trail and made lifelong friendships along the way.
It takes time to live, and time is something thru-hikers have.
