People of the PCT
Meet my ‘tramily’ plus trail name stories
One of the main reasons I chose to do the PCT over another of the scenic trails of the US is because of the notoriously strong sense of community and companionship on the PCT. With permits allowing 50 people per day from Campo, i turned up at the terminus knowing that I wouldn’t be alone. This was important for me. I’ve done plenty of solo travel in the past and after a beautiful but particularly isolating trip to New Caledonia at the start of 2019, I vowed to myself that I wouldn’t travel alone like that again. I spent 6 days on Isle de Pines — which is 3-4 days more than you need to spend there — and a further 4 days on the mainland and suffered through some intense cognitive dissonance as I tried to enjoy the pristine waters and dramatic landscapes of such a beautiful country whilst simultaneously feeling an overwhelming and crippling sense of loneliness. It felt wrong to be somewhere so stunning whilst feeling so completely and utterly alone. So when I told people I was heading over to the do the PCT by myself I made sure to emphasise that whilst I was starting “alone”, I likely wouldn’t be “lonely”. And boy oh boy did I hit the jackpot.
Before starting the trail, I spent 2 nights at Scout and Frodo’s house, infamous trail angels who provide an incredible set up for international and local hikers alike. There I met a whole range of people who, just like me, were filled with a cocktail of excitement and anticipation bordering on anxiety at the prospect of the journey ahead. The company and reassurance of their presence, as well as the logistical ease of a place to stay, mailing supplies and a lift to the trail head, made all the difference to my nerves which threatened to overwhelm me.
They say you can’t pick your family and when it comes to trail families, it’s actually not too different but I wouldn’t have it any other way. The group that you see in a lot of my posts, my tramily, mostly started on the same day as me (April 18th) so I suppose I didn’t have much of a say in it, I just got lucky. Having mostly started solo, we all frog leaped each other on Day 1 and did the initial introductions and it wasn’t until we all congregated at the Lake Morena Malt Shop on the morning of Day 2, we started to form the early stages of what is today a very tight knit tramily with plenty of cousins, step siblings and peripheral family members who ebb and flow through the group. There is a core group of 6-8 of us who’ve barely been more than half a day apart at any given time and 8-10 more that have spent varying lengths of time with us — upon writing there are 12 of us piled into an Airbnb in Tehachapi with a few more in our orbit that pop in for meals and laundry as needed. Over the last month we’ve snowballed and picked up other slightly slower hikers into our group and lost a few as they press on to do bigger miles and stretch ahead.
I feel very fortunate to have found such an incredible group of people to share the hike with. For the most part, we plan each section together meaning that we generally camp at the same place and walk together about 50% of the time. The other 50% of the time, we walk alone, bumping into each other at breaks and water sources. For me, this has been the perfect combination of time alone with my thoughts and the landscape with a degree of familiarity and companionship that means I never feel lonely. It’s also helped to ease into the logistics of the trail as the splitting of responsibilities amongst such a big group means I don’t have to be 100% on top of every detail all the time — the burden of figuring out the next water source, where to camp, daily mileage, Airbnb bookings and resupply logistics is shared fairly naturally between us, meaning I can give myself a break from the relentless and unending planning involved in such an undertaking as this. There may come a time where I feel the need to branch off and flex my sense of independence but the prospect of that right now feels akin to abandonment and knowing my propensity for loneliness, I feel like I’m exactly where I need to be right now.
So without further ado, I want to introduce you to some of the cool people I spend my days with along with how they each got their trail name. For those not in the know, trail names are a thru-hiking phenomenon whereby your “government name” (as they say in the US) is replaced with a trail name that represents some kind of key trait or funny story. The process of getting such a name can range from the simple to the frankly absurd. Whilst you have the ultimate power to accept or veto a name, your trail name is given to you by your fellow hikers. The process feels a little bit like that scene from Finding Nemo where he is bestowed with a tank name — Shark bait (hoo ha ha). Our process is a little less intense (read: less under water volcano blasts and tribal music) but not that much. Our tramily takes naming very seriously — in fact, someone met us and said “oh you’re the aggressive naming group”. We chose to take that one as a compliment and proceed with ensuring everyone we come across has a trail name that befits them.
So here’s my tramily and a little story as to how they got their trail names!
Fitz — Emily from Chicago, Illinois
Despite being one of the last to be named, Emily earnt her name for her reputation for inciting raucous fits of laughter that spread infectiously through the group until we’re all in stitches. We tried to call her ‘Giggles’ but she vetoed that one so when someone suggested ‘Fits’ of laughter, we added a ‘Z’ for street cred and called it a day.
Stinger — Juliet from LA, California
Juliet became Stinger whilst she was hiking the John Muir Trail in 2021 after she got stung by a bee three times in one week, whilst also consuming Honey Stinger chews. Her yellow and black get up makes her resemble her namesake but so far, no more stings for Stinger just yet.
Mouse — Arielle from Aspen, Colorado
Arielle had been tossing up a few potential names until the infamous incident with the mouse occurred. We stopped in a clearing for lunch and it wasn’t until mid way through that she looked down to see the shrivelled up carcass of a dead mouse directly in front of her. Despite the grim discovery, she opted to finish her lunch before relocating. It’s a cute name, with a gritty story which suited Arielle perfectly.
Gadget — Sam from Aspen, Colorado
Sam joined us for the first 100 miles alongside his wife Mouse and it was his extendo legs that earned him the name (Inspector) Gadget. I practically had to run to keep up with him as I took three to every one of his long strides.
IPA — Paul from Taiwan
No one can put away beers like this man. It didn’t take long for us to realise that Paul can sniff out a brewery from a mile away and has a comprehensive list of all the IPA’s he’s tried. He’s steadily making his way through as many different ones as we weave in and out of towns and so being named after his favourite drink felt fitting.
Lightning — Tommy from San Francisco, California
Tommy was with only with us for a week or so before he bolted off into the sunset but in that time he earned the name Lightning, not only for his incredible hiking speed but also because someone mistook the flash of his film camera for a bolt of lightning. He’s since left the group and hiked ahead to attend a family wedding further up trail so hopefully after a week or two off trail, we’ll catch him back up around Tahoe area.
Lava Lamp — Dustin from Dallas, Texas
We’ve filtered water from a number of water sources with skeptical quality but none worse than the Sunrise Valley trailhead trough. With chunks of yellow balls of bacteria, Dustin attached his water filter directly to his water bottle and as he drank, the bacteria sloshed around like a lava lamp.
Cucumber — Brian from Seattle, Washington
Or Cukes for short, is one of the few people who’s actual name sounds foreign to me. Cucumber must have set a new record for getting his trail name within the first half mile of the PCT. As he wandered out of the Monument at Campo, someone noticed the cucumber he was packing out as a Day 1 snack and the rest is history.
Mash — Ben from the UK
Mash earned his name for his culinary habits that stem largely from the fact that he doesn’t carry a stove. Using the cold soaking technique, his go-to combo was a rather eclectic combination of rehydrated ramen, packet potato mash, potato chips, hummus and cheese all wrapped up in a large tortilla. The combination of this ‘mash’ of food, and his British accent, made the name a perfect fit for our resident Pom.
Half and half — Shaelyn from Vancouver Island, BC, Canada
One of my favourite stories so far — it took Shaelyn several days of painful blisters to realise that her trail shoes, despite being brand new, had only one insole in them. She walked almost 100 miles with uneven shoes, earning her the apt name Half and Half, which for the Aussie’s is also what they call skim milk over here.
And I’m Spice!
If you know me, you know that I’m partial to a bit of kick in my cuisine but I’ve taken it to new levels on trail. In my food bag I have a wide array of herbs and spices including an entire bag of chilli flakes (or red pepper flakes as they say) which subsequently exploded over the entire contents of my food bag, coating everything, even my oats, with a light dusting of spice. I’d been given plenty of other potential names but none that felt right until ‘Spice’. Someone asked if my name was because my Aussie accent was spicy…I don’t think that was part of the original intention but I liked the inference nonetheless.
There are more in our group that have joined our tramily since I started writing this blog but rest assured, they’ll be in the next edition of ‘People of the PCT’ — I feel so lucky to have met such incredible people over this first month or so and can’t wait for what’s to come.
Thanks for reading and see you next time.
— Indi/Spice
