I got the inspiration to hike the Lost Coast Trail from social media. I had already done two other backpacking trips and I wanted to try a hike near the ocean, and I thought it would be fun. While I am the planner in my relationship overall, my partner, Nate, is very much the hiking and backpacking logistics person, so I told him I wanted to hike it and he helped me make it happen.
The Lost Coast Trail was approximately 25 miles and challenging. The terrain was mostly sand and rocks and it was imperative to know the tides and have a plan, otherwise we’d get stuck mid-trail or hiking in coastal tidal water, which is unsafe and should not be done. Additionally, the weather changed quickly so having a rain jacket and a waterproof cover for my backpack was essential.
We got the permits, planned transportation to the trail, and had a rough idea of our hiking plan but it wasn’t until a few weeks before the trip that Nate and I really sat down to figure out the details of start times, breaks, and end times. We planned to hike the trail in 3 days. Days 1 & 3 were relatively easy, however, Day 2 had the tricky spots with tides and if we didn’t leave early enough, we’d be stuck at the beginning of that portion of the trail most of the day and have to hike into the night to get to our camping spot. If everything went according to plan, we still had a break mid-day in a spot between two high tide areas where we’d be forced to stay until the tide receded.
An important side note: while I love hiking, I’m easily disheartened, discouraged, and exhausted while backpacking. I needed to be mentally prepared for the conditions and length of each day of the journey, otherwise when hikes extend beyond the capacity I initially prepare for, I get very, very grumpy. It wasn’t (and still isn’t) my favorite trait about myself, but I did what I could to make sure I didn’t stretch myself too thin…mostly for Nate’s sanity.
When the day of the trip finally arrived, I was much more stressed about the hike than I thought I would be…to the point of dreading it. Reminder: I picked this trip and this hike, so I felt extra guilty that I wasn’t looking forward to the stress of having to hike quickly on Day 2 of the trail.
We flew into Sacramento airport and had checked our bags with our backpacking gear. However, my bag got lost somewhere in the airport. After waiting quite a while, we spoke with someone in the lost luggage department and they confirmed that my bag was checked in and on the airport premises, but they didn’t know where. They took my name and contact information and I let them know our plans to leave bright and early the next morning.
While I had my meds, contact solution and essentials for one night, I had nothing to camp with and I felt so fucking relieved. While Nate was looking up the closest REI to grab some Katie-safe meals, I was hoping my bag was missing just long enough to prevent me from trudging through 3 days of uncomfortable hiking. I reminded myself, once again, that this whole trip and hike was my idea and something must be really off if I didn’t want to do it.
We found a Target where I grabbed snacks and some extra clothes and it finally hit me that while I wanted the experience and the rush of completing a hard thru-hike like this, what my body really needed was to relax. One month prior to this trip, I had moved for the second time in a year and was exhausted from packing, moving, unpacking and relearning where to buy groceries and gas, on top of ongoing efforts to continue healing my gut while preventing a gastritis flare-up, which I wrote about in this post. All while working full time. I was TIRED.
Once I named that for myself and recognized where it was coming from, I felt less guilty, though I dreaded telling Nate because he was really looking forward to the hike. At that point, I hadn’t even thought about not doing the trail; I was just relieved that I connected with myself to understand what I was feeling, instead of adding that as another layer of grumpiness on the trail. After the Target run, the airline called to let me know they found my bag and I could pick it up that night.
We went and got the bag and headed to our room for the night and before we went to sleep, I told Nate what I was feeling about the hike, including the dread and exhaustion I had been carrying. I told him I was really nervous that I wouldn’t be able to hike quickly enough to make our tide windows on Day 2 and that I didn’t want to ruin the hike for either of us. He was very receptive to my concerns and reassured me that our plan would work and that I was capable of doing the hike like we talked about. I was proud of myself for sharing how I felt and I went to bed thinking we were still keeping with the plan.
When our alarm went off in the morning, I mentally prepared myself for several more early mornings and was starting to give myself pep talks to reassure myself that I could do this. However, Nate surprised me with a brand new plan for the hike! Plan B was that we’d keep the same Day 1 mileage, have a leisurely morning on Day 2, then hike back to the car, drive to town and get a hotel for the night. Then we’d spend Day 3 exploring Humboldt Redwoods State Park. I could have cried tears of joy. It was a happy medium that gave my partner the time on the trail he craved, and gave my body the rest it needed while still keeping me active.
While the hike was still tough, we weren’t rushing, which allowed me to take breaks as needed and still make it to camp without collapsing. We watched the seals, we explored a lighthouse, we even got to see an eclipse while eating breakfast the morning of Day 2.
The very valuable lessons I learned from this trip:
- It’s ABSOLUTELY ok to change your mind before or during your journey. Listen to your body and check in with yourself regularly. If you’re traveling with others, communicate with them often.
- You don’t have to give up plans altogether. Sometimes, you can get the best of both worlds by adjusting the plan or approach.
- A partner who is kind, compassionate, and willing to be flexible is invaluable. (Note: You don’t need to a partner for life, for travel, for hiking, or for having fun, but if you choose to have a partner, I hope you choose someone who is kind because you deserve it.)
In the end, the Lost Coast Trail wasn’t the thru-hike I imagined it would be, but it turned into something better: an adventure that taught me to listen to my body and trust that flexibility can be just as rewarding as pushing through.