Amelia's PCT Blog 2025

We found out that the dog’s name was Whitaker. He had once followed hikers all the way here, and the coast guard actually picked him up and brought him home one time, and they had to bribe him to get on the boat with a hot dog.

The last 4 miles of the trail felt like the absolute longest 4 miles I’ve ever walked in my entire life. Of the thousands of miles I walked on the trail, these four were the absolute longest and most difficult. I wanted them to end. I didn’t want them to ever end. This is it. These are the last miles. The final miles of the PCT.

I look unbelievably happy in all of the photos of me on the terminus. I think I look strong and beautiful. With my messy hair, dirty clothes, no makeup, and biggest smile in the world. I made it here. I’m done. I did the impossible. I got myself here. Over 1,500 miles. I hiked over half the PCT. I walked the distance from Mexico to Canada. 159 days. 5 months and 4 days.

Maybe 15 minutes later, Bodybag came over again to my tent and said Amelia. We’ve got to go. NOW. There was more smoke coming from further down in the valley. There was thick, white billowing smoke coming up.

I want to hold onto the magic of the trail as long as I possibly can. The people who pop up when you least expect them. The smiles, the knowing nods from other hikers in town. The laughing, the stories, the feeling of truly connecting. The people. It really was the people. The people were always the magic of the trail.

It wasn’t until I was laying in bed that I realized that the trail was really coming to an end, and I wouldn’t see many of these people again. I wouldn’t be out in nature like this every day. I wouldn’t sleep in this tent every night. I wouldn’t drink water from mountain streams every day. I wouldn’t coexist with the many animals, insects, plants, and trees. I wouldn’t spend every day on the singular goal of walking to Canada. I think the floodgate is open now. My chest hurts. It feels like my heart is actually breaking.

We talked about being the slow one in the tramily, and she said that was why she had gone up ahead of the group because it was hard for her always being last, especially in the Sierra. She said she would hike in the dark with them, and watch their headlights in the distance getting further and further away in the snow.

First Polka Dot came over to say goodbye, and it felt again like one of the worst goodbyes I’ve had to say on the trail because it felt like a sure thing this time. Just like Marmot and Mr Emoji, it wasn’t a Maybe I’ll see you down the trail. It was, I definitely won’t see you again on the trail. The goodbyes I’ve said the last two days are starting to hurt a lot more.

I went down to the river with Marmot and they said goodbye, and that it was really nice to have met me. I only met Marmot briefly at Trail Days and then again the last two days, but this goodbye felt like one of the worst goodbyes I had ever said on trail. It felt like the real first goodbye I had to say to anyone. Usually, you just say goodbye to people and say “see you down the trail”. But there’s not much trail left now, and I’m hiking so slowly, there’s no way I’ll ever catch up to…

After spending time with my tramily, who are all such delightful people, I think some of their charm and carefreeness has rubbed off on me. I feel so light, all the interactions I had with people today felt so easy, even when I needed to ask something from them. I’m ready for the trail to end, but I’m also savoring every last moment, and realizing that life is to truly be enjoyed, not merely something to survive.

They gave me a ride to the dock, and in the truck, I was asking them questions about how they operated on the lake and about the ferry boats. I told them I had had a Catalina 25 and had rewired the entire boat electrical system myself. One of the guys asked if I wanted a job helping them build a new ferry boat.

Sometimes I’d come down an aisle and Fonda would just crash his cart into mine, pretending we didn’t know each other, saying excuse me, excuse me. These boys are like little puppies. Always so playful. It’s so easy to be around them. I’m already sad, and already starting to miss them, even though we’re still together.

I waited and soon heard some cars coming. I put my thumb out and about seven or eight cars went by. Nobody pulled over. I started getting worried. I had never had trouble hitching, but then again I had never tried hitching by myself like that before. I saw a Subaru coming and prayed that they would stop, and they did. It really is always Subaru people. The guy driving said that he worked for Snohomish County Search and Rescue, and he had a sticker on his water bottle with the logo. He seemed pretty normal and said he could…

I saw two trail runners running toward me on the trail. No backpacks. I then realized it was Fonda and Warpaint. They saw me and told me to give them my backpack. They would carry it for me. Everyone was waiting for me just one mile ahead. I was so shocked, I wanted to cry, but I just said I can’t believe you came back for me. Warpaint just said Ohana. You’re family. We never leave anyone behind. We kept walking about 1 more mile to a lake where Roses, Rocky and Bap were waiting. There had been a flurry…

At the top of the climb, there was a pond that Fonda, Bap, Rocky and Roses were sitting at, and we had lunch. We talked about our fears of the trail ending, and what life would be like afterwards. I think that reality is setting in now, and it’s on more people’s minds more and more, everyday that we’re closer to the end.

When I got to the final ascent, I went around a ridge or a saddle I guess you could call it, and it came out to this view of the Cascades. The last mountain range I’d be hiking through – just massive rocks in the distance. It is really beautiful. I wish I appreciated it more, but I’m really tired. I get why the man last night said that most hikers at this point are just kind of trudging along, trying to finish. I fully get it. I just want to finish. I just want to be done. I just…

The next section is a lot of climbing. There’s about 7,000 ft of elevation gain in the first 15 miles out of Snoqualmie. I don’t want to have to do that all in one day. That’s crazy. Especially in the heat. I’m not really sure what everyone else’s plan is. It seems like they want to finish on September 4th or 5th which is like four full days before my plan that I had put together, which is already pushing and doing no zero days. I’m not sure, but this might be the day where I have to start lagging…