I’ll admit it— I grew up a horse girl. My cousin’s family owned a nearby equestrian farm, and most of my childhood memories involve running around in tall grass, trail riding, and caring for animals. I always felt most connected to myself when I was outside. 

Planting the Seeds for the PCT

I entered college wanting to be an environmental lawyer, but after one law course, decided that wasn’t for me. No longer on a clear path, I took a semester off to reflect, and enrolled in a National Outdoor Leadership School (NOLS) semester in the Southwest. This involved backpacking in the Gila Wilderness, canoeing down the Rio Grande, and caving and climbing in Arizona. 

The Gila River. Photo courtesy of Flickr.

The course was transformative in ways I did not anticipate. I have since thought of my life as pre- and post-NOLS. Many of my peers went on to work in the outdoor industry, and I was interested in pursuing that too. But after returning to college, I convinced myself the sensible choice was to channel my passion for sustainability into corporate social responsibility efforts.

Making the “Responsible” Choice

I took a class on leveraging organizations for social change, which encouraged us to consider our prospective careers. The professor for the course held office hours in his backyard, and I sat with him in the sun one day as we discussed my plans for the summer. I had recently accepted an internship at a bank to work on a newly formed responsible sourcing program. I’d never planned to work in finance, but thought it might be impactful work, though I was sheepish in explaining that to him. 

He was perceptive, and sat for a moment before asking why I didn’t want to pursue conservation or outdoor jobs, which seemed to be what I was passionate about. I didn’t have a good answer.

My first month working back at the bank after graduation, I told an executive I would need to take a sabbatical in the next few years to thru hike the PCT. Nevertheless, I worked in corporate social responsibility for various finance organizations for seven years, and lived in Brooklyn for five. Though some of my work and life felt meaningful, I didn’t yet have the confidence to act on what I truly wanted.

Brooklyn Bridge Park

A Watershed Moment

One day while walking to a climbing gym, I was listening to an interview with a woman who had formerly been in a cult. She said that on her first day there, they told her that she would feel uncomfortable and want to leave. But, they said, that was a sign she should stay, because growth is uncomfortable. I realized I’d been using that tactic to convince myself to stay in places and situations that had not felt right to me for years on end.

It felt like every spare moment since NOLS I’d been reading and listening to interviews with people who’d had incredible adventures. Why couldn’t that be me? I was doing the best I could with a corporate job in New York City to piece together section and day hikes on the weekends, but I knew I wanted more. 

From a section hike of the Long Trail last summer.

The Path Ahead

So in the past few months, I quit my job, ended my lease in Brooklyn, moved my belongings into storage, received a long distance permit for my PCT thru-hike, and prepared for the trail.

I expected after so much change in such a short period of time I would feel emotionally overwhelmed, but I’ve felt the best that I have in many years. Growth is sometimes comfortable— I’m enjoying it while it lasts.

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