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  • Pacific Crest Trail

    PCT DAY 3: And finally sleep

    June 3, 2018June 3, 2018

    May 12th Miles: 29 Total miles: 77.3 The clouds raced and the wind howled all night long. I didn’t sleep or if I did it can’t have been long. I lay on my side, like

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  • Pacific Crest Trail

    PCT DAY 2 | Never Go Full Frogg Toggs

    May 21, 2018May 21, 2018

    May 11th Miles: 22 Total miles: 48 We woke at Boulder Oaks campground next to the wooden picnic table. Condensation had fallen down from sky all night. It had coated our bags making the down

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  • Pacific Crest Trail

    PCT DAY 1: Your Ego Will Be Vaporised

    May 21, 2018May 21, 2018

    May 10th Miles: 26 Total miles: 26 In the morning when I woke up in a sandy wash close to the border I knew and when I opened my eyes and looked up at the

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  • Pacific Crest Trail

    Pacific Crest Trail: Three weeks until lift off baby!

    April 14, 2018May 4, 2018

    It’s less than a month now until I start the Pacific Crest Trail again. Wow. That feels so strange to write. It used to feel like this day would never come, like I would be

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  • Pacific Crest Trail

    Dear Pacific Crest Trail: Everything I never told you / a long overdue love letter of sorts.

    March 31, 2018April 9, 2018

    Day one on trail   Why are you hiking the Pacific Crest Trail again?   To understand why I am hiking the Pacific Crest Trail again this May – I must take you back. Back to

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  • Pacific Crest Trail

    Stoveless Food On A Thru Hike: Mistakes I Made & What I’m Changing This Time

    March 17, 2018April 1, 2018

    In my element on the Pacific Crest Trail PB&J with crushed up tortilla chips. Oh food. Friggin’ hose me down. In 2016 I started with good intentions. I really did. There are two things to

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  • Pacific Crest Trail

    My 7 pound Ultralight Thru-Hiking Gear List: and what I think about it

    March 7, 2018March 23, 2018

    Second to last day on trail, in Washington It’s March in New Zealand. It’s only just turned from summer to fall right now, but the rain is falling outside, dripping from the roof onto the

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    • It’s been a year since I started the PCT again. I told the story of that hike and then things went quiet. Honestly, It’s been the toughest 7 months of my life since I returned. I packed my bags and left my city of 5 years for my hometown. Faced the feeling of being alone in my 20s for the first time, reached out to an empty bed in the middle of the night, lay on my back awake staring at the ceiling as the days ticked by. I stood by as my old life caught fire only have to watch it spread to the new life too, the one that at the time had felt so real, so unbreakable, the one I thought would last, but piece by piece that crumpled and fell through my hands. Then there were the months of uncertainty, the guilt, the worries about money, the static on the other end of the phone when I finally let my walls down, the sound of blocks as I put them back up. The ground giving way underneath me, not knowing which way to run. The feeling of the cool hard ground when I hit the bottom. The rough edges I clawed at to climb out with. The moment where I finally relished how alone I was. The flicker of knowledge that by burning something down it opened the path to rebuild that life however you chose. The parts of yourself you are proud of, those you had felt you had to hide polished and revealed. Every day held the chance to wake up and choose to be better, to smile more, to be open, to be vulnerable and laugh at yourself when it all goes wrong. And slowly the world felt a little brighter each day. There is so much on offer to us, so much to learn and read and experience and know. There are people that will pick you up even when it’s your own fault you fell. They will dust you off and tell you it’s going to all be ok. There is connection in so many different forms if you are just brave enough to seek it out. Finally, there was a call, a plane ticket, two suitcases, and a city to return to. And here I am now almost two weeks away from uprooting my life again. Knowing just how deeply I have changed and how I couldn’t have done this alone. I’m scared as hell at what comes next, but I am ready to face it and for once in a long time I'm also excited about what is around the corner.🧡
    • Name a more iconic duo than me and the Pacific Crest Trail monument.... I’ll wait. 💁‍♀️
    • Did you know I went on a roadtrip after the Pacific Crest Trail? Well I did AND hell yes White Sands National Monument is an absolute banger AND no you can’t have a turn on my sled 💁‍♀️
    • PACIFIC CREST TRAIL | @youcancallmeflx as always living his best life in the desert 😂. I guess it is time for me to spill and confess that I filmed my entire hike last year. The first video is going to drop VERY soon 💁‍♀️ I’m not sure you’re ready for my thick kiwi accent.... but you’re going to get it anyway! 🚀
    • PACIFIC CREST TRAIL | DAY 115 | I took my first step on that last day, looked up at the moody sky with eyes that were still curious and a heart that was still restless. Seven miles left, memorizing all the tiny beautiful details. Six, walking uphill in the patchy sunlight. Five, sitting in the dirt chugging cool water. Four, clouds of dirt sticking to the back of my legs. Three, two, and all at once it was real. . Time stopped there in the clearing, at the foot of the monument - the wind made the little flags dance just for us. It wasn’t triumphant or prideful. It just was. I cried, but my tears fell silently. Last time I was here I touched the damp wood and for the first time, knew what I was capable of. This time I realized there was so much more I needed to learn. The months of freedom had slowly softened my heart. They had made me unafraid to expose the depths of my soul that I had protected so fiercely for most of my life. . But I knew right then what I never understood before. That running away from my life to the trail could not sustain my happiness, but it bought me closer to understanding what would stoke it; friendship, generosity, an open mind, a vulnerable heart, the ability to look foolish for the things you care about. That you may fuck up harder than you ever thought possible, but some sort of redemption can be found in being honest about where you fall short. That an entire journey can be pieced together just one step at a time. . I had made the journey of a lifetime twice, gained a scar, felt strong, been fearless, flexed my calves in the mirror, lost friends, made friends, lost love and found love, as fragile as it was. The sun had bleached my hair, the exposure had wrinkled my skin, the dirt on my ankles wouldn’t rub off for weeks, but this beautiful journey - this was mine to keep. Something I would carry with me forever - long after my tan faded. My name is Ayesha, I turned 29 years old on a mountainside, my feet are sore, my heart is raw, I just walked the PCT for the second time and I have no fucking idea what tomorrow will bring. I am not anyone special. I just believed in myself, gained 9 stitches in my leg and walked a bloody long way
    • PACIFIC CREST TRAIL | DAY 113 | Waking up on the side of a cliff, groggy and with two bites of food left. Me feeling like the puppet master of my own body. Dragging it uphill even when it is screaming at me that it wants to lay down and rest for a million years. Both of us getting quieter as our hunger grows louder. Every inch of me was exhausted. The end just right there almost close enough to touch. For the last month the bags under my eyes have been bigger than the pack on my back. It’s time for the end and although my daydreams were filled with soft beds and pillows and a week where I didn’t need to walk, they also held the fragments of my shattered reality from the end of my last hike. Knowing exactly the void that waited for me on the other side. I walked dizzily past the closure, weak and with no idea where this detour would lead. With us ending up at one of the most beautiful views that I have seen. Cascading mountains and deep pools of glacier run off flowing into each other. Then we wound down down down for what felt like hours until finally we walked into the tiny eco village that was Holden. That had opened its doors to all of us. A zero waste village in the middle of nowhere. There was only one boat a day we were told. We had to stay there overnight. We ate skittles until the evening buffet opened, felt completely overwhelmed by the world until we had food in our bellies. Volunteered to scoop icecream that evening (perhaps the promise of free icecream had something to do with that) and ate directly from the huge gallon tubs after. Holden, a place outside of time - that I would question even existed if I didn’t have the photos. We drifted back to our tents in the dark. This was the last night we would camp. Tomorrow we would take a bumpy school bus ride to the ferry to Chelan and hitch to Seattle to get a rental. The trail to the border was closed - we had to come in from the other side. Just 8 miles walk from Canada to the monument and 8 miles back toward the rest of our lives. 🧡
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