PCT Day 124 – PCT Mile 2109.5 to Indian Springs Trailhead (2130.7)

August 7, 2026

Total PCT miles: 21.3

Non PCT miles: 1.0

Total: 22.3 miles / 35.9 km

Total elevation gain: 4606 ft

Total elevation loss: 3793 ft

Steps: 51505

Remaining Distance: 524.2 miles

I slept through my alarm this morning. I’ve never done that on trail. I’m almost always the first one up and almost always pass other hikers still asleep in their tents. I suppose that most people know me as a night owl and lover of night shifts might find that surprising. After 124 days, my body has become pretty well programmed to wake up and start walking. Maybe this morning it was trying to tell me something.

Eventually I packed everything up and started north. Early in the day I took the Ramona Falls Alternate, a short detour from the PCT that passes directly by Ramona Falls. I’m certainly glad I did. The water cascades almost 120 feet down a wall of columnar basalt, spreading into countless little streams as it tumbles over the rock. It was an impressive sight and another reminder that, despite how I’ve been feeling lately, this trail can still surprise me with something beautiful.

As I continued north, the trail opened up to some great views back toward Mount Hood. Unfortunately, the wildfires burning in the distance were an increasingly obvious presence on the horizon. It seems like every day brings news of another fire somewhere along the PCT.

Things aren’t looking much better ahead of me either. The wildfire situation in Washington continues to deteriorate and there is now another section of the PCT closed because of the Three Queens Fire. With the northern terminus already inaccessible, the path through Washington is becoming increasingly complicated.

But if I’m being truthful with myself, the fires aren’t why I’ve decided to stop.

Today I hurt.

My ankles hurt. My Achilles hurt. My legs hurt. My back hurt. The sciatica that has been bothering me was there again. The skin on my hips is raw. I’ve had to stop almost every 2 miles because of the pain to rest. None of these things are particularly new. I’ve been hiking with pain for hundreds of miles and, for a long time, I accepted it as simply another part of this journey. I’ve spent four months telling myself to embrace the suck.

Keep walking.

Get over the next mountain. Make it to the next town. Get some food. Take a zero. Maybe tomorrow will feel better.

And for a long time, that worked.

There was always something on the other side of the suffering that made me want to continue. An incredible view. A milestone I’d been dreaming about. A ridiculous conversation with another hiker. A trail angel appearing exactly when I needed one. Or sometimes just the satisfaction of knowing I’d pushed through another hard day.

Somewhere along the way, that changed. I’m still capable of putting in the miles. I hiked more than 22 pain filled miles today with over 4,600 feet of climbing. A few days ago I hiked almost 33 miles in a single day. Physically, I could force myself to keep going regardless of the consequences to my own health.

But I’m not enjoying it anymore.

That’s much harder for me to admit. Embracing the suck isn’t suppose to mean indefinitely enduring something you’ve lost the joy in doing.

At some point during the day, I did it.

I called Mel. I told her I was done.

Saying the words out loud made the decision suddenly very real. After more than a decade of dreaming about reaching the Northern Terminus of the Pacific Crest Trail and 124 days of organizing my life around one simple objective, keep walking north, I had finally decided that I didn’t want to do it anymore.

There are 524.2 miles of the PCT remaining.

That number is difficult to look at. Part of me desperately wants to finish what I started. I’m close enough now that I know I could grit my teeth, swallow some more ibuprofen, ignore the pain and drag myself north for another few weeks.

But what would I be trying to prove?

I don’t want the final memories of something I’ve dreamed about for so long to simply be how badly everything hurt and how desperately I wanted it to be over.

So I’ve made my decision. I’m going to keep hiking tomorrow, but I’m no longer hiking toward Canada.

I’m hiking toward the Bridge of the Gods.

I started this journey in what feels like forever ago and yesterday at the same time. Tomorrow I’ll step into Washington, finish my hike, and walk away from the PCT on my own terms.

Tonight I’m camped knowing that tomorrow morning I’ll put my pack on and start walking just like I’ve done almost every morning for the last four months.

Except tomorrow, for the first time in 124 days, I know exactly where my last mile will be.