“Snowdancer” looks over miles and miles of exposed hiking on the L.A. aqueduct in the Southern California desert. Photos: Courtesy of Sandyann Ducarme.
Editor’s Note: This feature was brought to you by our partners at Arrowhead.
When someone imagines hiking the Pacific Crest Trail, they most often picture grand vistas, personal growth, and a life-defining sense of affirmation. But that’s not always the way it goes.
Sure, PCT hikers can experience those things, but the trail also includes extreme monotony, endless side-excursions/re-supplies, and emotional ups-and-downs that take an enormous toll. Just prepping for the PCT can take months of planning and effort, then there’s the trail itself, often demanding 4-6 months to finish.
And the truth is, despite all of the effort, a lot of hikers don’t finish, whether due to injury, fatigue, or extenuating life circumstances. The PCT is a marathon, not a sprint.
One such hiker, Sandyann Ducarme — known on the trail as “Snowdancer” — set out to walk the PCT’s 2,650 miles. When we last spoke with Sandyann in Hikertown, she was full of hope and determination, ready to tackle the challenges ahead. However, as many adventurers know, the journey often takes unexpected turns.
“I’m at home now in Copperopolis, a small town outside of Sonora, California,” Sandyann began, reflecting on her recent experiences. After 18 grueling days without a break, she found herself at Sonora Pass, exhausted and in need of rest. This marked a turning point in her journey.
Sandyann catches a ride from a good-hearted trail angel.
The Desert and the Sierra
Pushing through the desert and the Southern Sierra was a test of endurance. Sandyann recounted, “After Hikertown, I tried to keep up with the younger hikers. It was really hard going through the desert.” Despite the difficulties, she skipped ahead to familiar sections, choosing to hike with friends through the Sierra.
But the trail had more lessons to teach. Hiking with others meant adopting their pace, which proved to be physically taxing. “I was pushing too far, too fast,” she admitted. The demands of the trail began to wear her down, leading her to make the difficult decision to bow out and adjust her itinerary.
“I decided to get off the trail because I hadn’t taken a zero for 18 days. I was trashed,” Sandyann said. Zero days are rest days where hikers don’t cover any miles, essential for recovery on long-distance hikes. Her body needed a break, but it wasn’t just the physical toll that weighed on her.
After weeks of non-stop hiking, Sandyann finally hit her breaking point at Sonora Pass.
A Pause, Not an End
Sandyann’s message initially sounded like a farewell to the PCT, but she clarified, “I’m not done. I’m planning on getting back on the trail, permit allowing.” The flexibility in her plan reflected a broader lesson she had learned: sometimes, the original goal needs to be adapted.
Her revised plan involved hiking through Oregon in late September and tackling the John Muir Trail (JMT). “This is going to be a multi-year journey,” she explained. This adaptation wasn’t a sign of giving up but a testament to her resilience and ability to pivot when necessary.
“I realized with me going slower that I was not going to get to Canada this year before the snow,” she said. Instead of pushing herself to the point of misery, Sandyann chose to enjoy the journey and make it sustainable. “I decided to go as far as I wanted and still have fun.”
Sandyann takes a reprieve at Red Meadows Hot Spring.
Embracing Flexibility and Grace
Sandyann’s journey is a story of reassessment and self-compassion. “I feel like an imposter sometimes,” she confessed, wrestling with feelings of inadequacy after skipping sections of the trail. However, she soon realized that the PCT is not just about the physical journey but also about the mental and emotional challenges it presents.
Her decision to step off the trail was influenced by a painful shoulder injury, a stark reminder that self-care is paramount. “The trail is supposed to be fun, not a job,” she recalled a friend’s advice, underscoring the importance of enjoying the adventure, one day at a time.
“When I got back on the trail, I felt like an imposter because I had skipped a section,” she said, reflecting on her imposter syndrome. “I ran into people who had started later and were now ahead. It was always in the back of my mind that I hadn’t really done the PCT in one go.”
Zooming out and taking a reality check, the 62-year-old has completed nearly 800 miles of the trail this year — a significant achievement in itself that most hikers will never accomplish. “I’ve done a lot of tough hikes,” she said. “Even if I don’t reach the top, I’m okay with it.”
Sandyann stands next to a PCT marker amidst the endless miles of trail.
Lessons from the Trail
One particular day on the trail stands out in Sandyann’s memory. “We had a 2.2-mile stretch with a 1,000-foot climb and a 1,200-foot decline,” she recalled. “My friend Spicy was behind me, and he said if we go around one more corner and it’s still uphill, he’s going to have a meltdown. It was brutal, but we made it.”
This experience encapsulates the essence of long-distance hiking: enduring the tough climbs and finding joy in the small victories. “You have to keep going,” she said. “You can’t just sit down and wallow in self-pity. At some point, you have to get up and move forward.”
Ducarme’s journey is not just about hiking; it’s about living life to the fullest, embracing the highs and lows, and finding beauty in the struggle. “Don’t be just alive, live your life,” she reminds us, encouraging everyone to step out of their comfort zones and take a chance, even if it means risking failure.
Days and weeks on the trails are conducive to reflection and gaining perspective.
The Road Ahead
Sandyann plans to continue her adventure, focusing on sections of the trail she loves most. “Flexibility and spontaneity are key,” she emphasized. This attitude allows her to navigate the ever-changing conditions of the trail, from wildfires to personal challenges.
However, with so much planning required, and the overall hope of finishing always lingering in the background, it can be hard to let go of the dream and accept a new reality. Reconciling that loss can be extremely hard — even more so when such enormous effort has been expended.
Snowdancer’s story is a poignant reminder that success is not always about reaching the destination, but about the journey — and the lessons learned. Her journey on the PCT may not have gone as planned, but it is a testament to the power of resilience, adaptability, and self-compassion.
