makayla crist

PCT | Solo Sobo

One Week Away

Last days of being civil in civilization.


So I'm leaving in a couple of weeks. I think this is the worst part of the whole trip. I'm easily winded, and scared. Out of shape and nervous. But who wouldn't be. I realized how much my sanity and body need this. Dealing with the same people's emotions, and being consistently in the same place. I realized that I've become angry. And consumed in everybody else. My boyfriend, is silent, yet patience in this whole process. He knows how ridiculous, and absolutely insane this is. But he wants me to be out there, fully benefitting from being alone. 


It's been a wild ride this year, full of new friendships- emotions on high. And a lot- a lot of tears. Old friendships that died out. People's jealousy, my lack of communication, and hearts that are  running of off caffeine and quiet heartbreaks. Maybe that's what pushing this crazy, stupid idea. Not "wanderlust", not that the "outdoors are calling" (because they can’t) or this idea of the "great adventure". But I am simply sick of the way that things have been, and crying out for help. People's condescending Instagram accounts. That provoke unattainable goals for women and men. Especially woman. This idea that we are young wild and free, and can do or say whatever, even if it's not the truth. Last night, I sat across the table from my boyfriend at dinner in a local Missoulian restaurant.  A couple came in and sat across from us. I couldn't help but notice the girl completely passive towards her partner and ignorantly caring about waiter. Instead she was taking selfies on her phone with her lips completely pushed up and her large boobs popping out. Not even caring about anything or anybody else who was talking to her. Maybe she was crying out for attention that she thought she deserved. While her partner, sitting there with creases on his face, looking like he was drowning. It makes me sick to my stomach. Social standards and ignorance. Selfishness, saying to treat yo self. I am going to hike, because that seems more real to me than this world -that is held together by paychecks and feather pillows. 


Who knows how far I’ll get. Last year I set out to finish all 6300 miles. I was very sad and thrown into something I had absolutely no idea about the outcome. But yet it was my home in some way. And it was the best thing I’ve ever done.


So, here I go, to find something, write something, and believe in something. Maybe this time around, I’ll finally figure it out.



makayla crist