By Jude Coleman, Santa Cruz Sentinel
The Pacific Crest Trail winds through blistering desert, ragged mountains and dense forest on its 2,653-mile journey from California’s southern border to Canada.
Thousands of hikers attempt the border-to-border trek each year, but many return home, defeated by trail conditions or unforeseen difficulties. But Kelly Flynn, a 37-year-old Santa Cruz Mountains resident, triumphantly completed the famous route in September, despite having juvenile diabetes. And she did it alone.
Following an unsuccessful attempt to complete the trail in 2019, the UC Santa Cruz alum laced up her boots and stepped back onto the trail this past April. With a 30-pound backpack full of only the essentials, she was determined to finish this time. For 15 years the trail had called her name, after being inspired by an old professor’s book on long-distance hiking.
“I never felt like giving up,” said Flynn, seated at a table in Santa Cruz’s Abbott Square on a recent drizzly morning. “Having quit once before, I knew I didn’t want to.”
Flynn, a former English teacher at Mountain View’s Graham Middle School who lives near the Highway 17 summit, had begun her first attempt two years ago with a hiking partner. But this time she decided to go solo. Armed with a GPS messaging device and a thorough understanding of the trail, Flynn decided that she wanted to challenge herself even more and experience the solitude.
“I understood that she would meet people on the trail,” said Garth von Ahnen, 34, a graphic artist who has been Flynn’s partner for more than a decade. “I knew she knew what she was doing. I wasn’t that worried.”
Flynn had been on only one short backpacking trip before her first Pacific Crest Trail adventure. And from the start of the 2019 trip, “a lot of things went wrong,” she said.
After taking a detour to climb to the top of Mount Whitney, she found herself dangling precariously off the edge of the highest mountain in the continental United States. With her ice axe sunk deep into the record-high snowpack, she stared into the predawn darkness and realized the summit would have to wait. Several hundred miles later, a bad bout of giardia forced her to return home.
This year, however, all her preparation and knowledge of the trail made all the difference.
There were hard days and unexpected setbacks, but none were catastrophic. Supply boxes wouldn’t arrive; shoes would wear out. But friends were able to rush necessities to post offices along the way. And nearby towns usually carried whatever she needed.
“You just figure it out,” Flynn said with a wave of her freckled hands. “There’s nothing but time.”
Carving its way through the West Coast’s mountain ranges, the Pacific Crest Trail is celebrated by thru-hikers ??” people who backpack lengthy trails from end to end. The trail received scads of attention after Cheryl Strayed’s book “Wild” debuted as a movie in 2014. Five distinct sections divide the trail, which is traditionally hiked from Mexico to Canada: the Southern California desert, the Sierra Nevada, remote Northern California, central Oregon and Washington’s Cascade Range.
Many hikers regard the Sierra as the highlight of the trail ??” Flynn included. Deep gorges of shimmering granite cut a path between towering mountains. Alpine lakes sparkle amid patches of melting snow and scrappy evergreen trees. After the hellish slog through 700 miles of desert, the mountains are a dreamy sight.
At one point in the Sierra, however, Flynn’s insulin pump failed and the majestic mountains suddenly felt a little less ethereal. The next backup pump also failed. And the next one. And the next.
After her entire backup box of pumps proved to be defective, she resorted to manually monitoring and managing her glucose levels for several hundred miles.
Flynn said she always carried snacks in her hip pouch, and Skittles were a favorite for raising blood sugar. “Running out of food was one hundred percent not an option,” said Flynn, who packed more food than most hikers.
Most of the time it was beautiful, but occasionally it wasn’t. In Northern California, the summer’s intense heat waves and skies filled with wildfire smoke meant there was nothing to do but walk. And walk, and walk.
Those days were mentally challenging for Flynn, who has battled depression off the trail. But being removed from the stress of daily life, immersed in the moment and connected with like-minded people, led to a healthier mindset.
“I’ve never been happier than when I was out there. Everything’s so much simpler,” she said.
“She’s tough, and she’s independent, which is what you need,” said fellow hiker Mark Brewer, 60, a retired mechanical engineer who she met in the Southern California desert, where they bonded over pitching an unwieldy tent. They hiked more or less in tandem for the next 1,000 miles.
Brewer’s support and friendship helped Flynn through some of the trip’s rougher patches, even after Brewer had to return to his Florida home because of a family emergency.
Arriving at the Washington-Oregon border brought Flynn’s emotions to the surface. While crossing the famed Bridge of the Gods, which spans the Columbia River, it was hard to accept that her hike was coming to a close. Once on Washington soil, there were 2,100 miles behind her and a mere 500 miles to go. Reaching the milestone brought tears to her eyes.
When she finally reached the end of the trail, just shy of five months since she began the hike, it felt surreal. Because of pandemic restrictions, hikers couldn’t cross into Canada, but that seemed inconsequential. As the rain drizzled down, Flynn celebrated with a tiny bottle of champagne.
Brewer said his humble new friend tends to downplay the whole undertaking.
“Of course it’s a really big deal,” he said. “You’re tired. You’re hungry. You’re exhausted. And she can dig deep and say ‘I don’t care how I feel. I’m doing it.’’’
Back in her mountain home, Flynn is reacquainting herself with normal life and working as a server at a Los Gatos restaurant. It’s been a massive adjustment from the simple joys of backpacking and existing in nature with a tight-knit group of people tackling a common goal.
Flynn, grateful to have the support of her partner and her family,
She said the hike made her realize how a lot of society’s mental health issues are caused by the chaos of our daily lives. Being on the trail showed her that our “normal” isn’t necessarily natural, she said, adding that we all need more simplicity, adventure and community in our lives.
“I realized somewhere around Oregon that the point wasn’t to get to Canada,” Flynn said. “The point was the experiences I had along the way and the people I met.”
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