Feeling at home on the trail, safety, and wild animals

In early years on the trail I would listen for “sounds that go bump in the night” while sleeping in my tent. And worry about wild animals, particularly black bears and mountain lions, or malicious humans. And sometimes one of the many trail indignities I describe would make me uncomfortable, frustrated, or angry. (Many were the times I would say “never again!”)

But over the course of some years these things gradually lost their grip and I came to feel very much at ease, at home, and safe on the trail. In fact, I feel safer on the trail than pretty much anywhere else. And the fact that nothing requiring medical attention ever happened to me on the trail — after 27 years and 5300 miles — is testament to that safety! Of course, hiking with constant care and paying attention is required too. (Worst things to happen physically were a wasp sting, a few leg cuts from ground-level debris, and a painful foot taking a few months to heal.)

Equally important, over time a basic “trust” in the trail developed. No matter what the terrain, or how impossible or inhospitable it looked, the trail would always be there and get me through. All I had to do was follow the path. And the path is mostly a “hikers freeway” and clearly distinguishable from any other tracks. Signs and markers would usually point the way, both at trail junctions and as metal PCT badges affixed to trees and posts regularly along the way. And where signs or markers were absent, PCT maps and guidebook pages would always resolve any confusion. Only a few times was my trust in the trail shaken, as when it disappeared for several miles under burned-out forest mess that completely obliterated the trail and had not yet been cleaned up. (Usually after a fire burns through, trail crews will at least give the trail a once-over so it can be followed.)

Actually, the one safety item that I continue to worry about on the trail even now is falling tree branches. (And entire falling trees in burned-out segments of trail.) Every now and then I hear and see a branch cracking and falling to the ground in the distance. Especially when it’s windy but even when it’s not. So I’m looking to avoid dead or barren overhead branches when setting up my tent at night. And I personally witnessed a mountain rescue of someone who was hit by a branch falling onto their tent at night and injured seriously enough that they had to be evacuated by rescuers.

Here are some of the items along the road to being at ease and feeling at home. None of these happened quickly — again, for me it was a multi-year process.

Night time and night hiking. Conquering our innate human fear of the dark is perhaps one of the single greatest triumphs for me from hiking the trail. I grew to love hiking at night with a headlamp, sometimes all night long, feeling perfectly comfortable and at ease. (In twisting terrain or thick vegetation, sometimes making noise or even singing to alert bears of my presence, but never encountering one at night.) I grew to sleeping very soundly knowing nothing out there was going to “get me.” I grew to being as comfortable in the dark on the trail, setting up camp at night, or taking down camp in pre-dawn as one might be in their own living room.

Bears. I grew to understand and internalize that black bears were just shy and not a threat unless they were taken by surprise or felt their cubs were threatened. Over the 27 years I sighted a black bear maybe six times, such as 100-200 feet away in a stream, down a gully, or crossing the trail ahead of me. Each time I would yell that I was there, so the bear would know I was there and know that I knew it was there. And I would purposefully and immediately walk away so it could see I was walking away. Yes, every night I would store my food appropriately, responsibly, and away from my person, to prevent it from becoming a bear snack. (Lots of info on the web about that and also see my gear and food page.) No bear ever raided or ate my food. One time I was was falling asleep in my tent after dark when a bear started tearing apart a log for grubbs just 30 yards or so from my tent. I tried yelling at the bear in a smoothing and logical voice, “bear, I know this is your home, but I’m only here for one night, do you think you could come back tomorrow instead? That log will still be there.” But the bear was not swayed by my reasoning and continued to tear apart the log for another half-hour, eventually leaving! (Note: there are no grizzlies — brown bears — anywhere on the trail except perhaps very close to the Canada border. Safety around grizzlies is an entirely different matter.)

Mountain lions. Always aware that mountain lions could be around in any section of the trail at any time, but never saw one. Saw fresh mountain lion tracks in the snow along the trail for several miles one time in Oregon in October. Understand what to do if facing one (never run, turn, back away, bend down, just make yourself big with your poles and arms, yell, and look them in the eye). Sometimes imagine one jumping me from behind and clamping onto my neck. And get spooked sometimes when another hiker offers a report that a mountain lion was recently spotted or known to be in the immediate area. But take comfort in the fact that apparently no PCT hiker has ever been killed by a mountain lion, and unless you are a very small person or a child, you are too big to be mistaken for their normal prey. And generally they want nothing to do with you. Still get nervous sometimes, but my assessment of the risk is that it is much less than pretty much everything else, even less than being struck by lightning. So just accept it.

Rattlesnakes. In the desert parts of the trail in Southern California, they are there. Saw a rattlesnake on or near the trail a total of about four or five times in hiking the entire trail twice. Almost stepped on one once because I wasn’t looking down, but heard its rattle first and was able to jump back before being bitten. Then you just go around, giving them a wide berth. You just stay aware, don’t space out too much, and the biggest downside is that I don’t play music while hiking the desert sections, because I need to be able to hear that rattle. And also a good reason to carry a satellite communicator, to text 911 if you get bitten, so to get medivac and not have to walk any further. (And for those with no health insurance, the outrageous cost of a medivac is full incentive to pay attention for snakes on the trail!)

Malicious people. Virtually non-existent in my experience. In 27 years I had only two encounters with anyone that made me even the slightest bit nervous. (Have had many more encounters than that on my local hiking trails or local streets over that time!). Once in Southern California, on the trail about 4 miles from the nearest road a group of three guys just hanging out, obviously not hiking the trail, looked a bit threatening. And once in Washington state, a man carrying a rifle on the trail where he shouldn’t be, hunting not allowed, and wondering what he was doing. Yes, I guess things can happen. But it still feels like the safest place in the world to me.

Sheer Drop-Offs and Fear of Heights. A fair number of trail segments in many sections traverse through steep terrain and may even be blasted into the side of rock faces and cliffs. If the terrain is open and not forested, the downhill edge of the trail can be a sheer drop-off into an abyss. A fall or slide over the side would not be pleasant, potentially resulting in serious injury or worse. While in stride, sometimes the foot nearest the edge will slip a bit or push the edge of the trail itself downward, especially if the trail is eroded to only a narrow slice of its normal width. Also, a few sections have short “knife edge” ridge tops upon which the trail proceeds, with rocky jagged drop-offs on both sides simultaneously mere feet from the side of the trail. (And body-jarring wind to boot!) Coming as I have from a historical “fear of heights” — meaning nervousness or anxiety being close to such drop-offs, it again took me several years to become confident and comfortable. Not that my fear of heights has gone away, just that I know I can remain safe when the trail comes to such segments and that crossing them becomes routine.

Weather. Rain, thunderstorms, wind, blistering sun, extremes of hot and cold are all part of hiking the trail, as described in more detail on the trail indignities page. To be at home on the trail is to expect and have enough experiences under your belt to make dealing with weather routine. It still may be uncomfortable but you deal with it and make peace with it — “ok, now we are into this again.” The key for me was good clothing and gear — to make sure I was warm enough, dry enough, protected enough from sunburn or windburn or snow blindness, etc. Again, having the right clothing and gear was a multi-year trial-and-error learning process. I even tried a special-purpose reflective umbrella in the hot desert sun that attaches to your pack and provides a shade over your head (works great!). Or open-finger gloves that only cover the back of your hand to prevent sunburn in the desert (works too!). And different types of rain parkas for different conditions. Really only once in 27 years did the weather grossly overpower what I had — and left me spending a virtually sleepless night shivering continuously in wet clothes and sleeping bag.

Lightning. To this day I’m still afraid of being caught out in a lightning storm. It’s probably my biggest remaining source of anxiety and ill-at-ease on the trail. Some parts of the trail and times of year are prone to thunderstorms, while other parts and times of year are not. Afternoon thunderstorms are common in the High Sierra during the summer, and the several high mountain passes you must climb over in daily succession are not places to be during a thunderstorm. Or any exposed rocky areas or ridge lines. Other sections of the trail offer varying degrees of protection from lightning, either off of ridge lines or among trees. But the “Crest” in Pacific Crest Trail means the trail most often follows the highest terrain around. The basic idea is to time your daily hiking itinerary so you are not on an exposed mountain pass or other exposed areas in the afternoon if thunderstorms are possible. I would usually plan to be “down the other side” of a Sierra mountain pass or past an exposed area no later than 2pm. It requires some planning and also calling upon reserve strength or endurance sometimes to ensure this happens. Once I was on a very exposed rocky ridge line near Sonora Pass that I had not anticipated or planned for when a thunderstorm came along and I had to beat a very hasty retreat off the trail straight down into a lower depression, still rocky but a few hundred feet lower in elevation than the ridge line. Thunderstorms can also happen overnight and a few times I’ve realized my exposure only after setting up camp in a meadow or next to a very prominent tree and being in the middle of a nighttime thunderstorm! There are many rules-of-thumb and suggested practices about being safe from lightning, some of which I’ve found contradictory, and so its really up to each person to gather all the information and decide for themselves how to be cautious and safe.