It can be hard for people to talk about money, and most feel rude asking how in the hell someone can afford to pay for these long hikes and “drop” their regular life for months on end. Just like anything, everyone is coming from a different situation and goes about funding these treks differently. Some come from wealth, some have no family wealth to speak of. Some own homes, some rent, some just left their parents’ home for the first time. There isn’t just one formula that adds up to being able to walk on a trail for 5 months. Mine is just one of many and I think it is important to share, if anything, to show others what is possible when you are willing to take steps outside of the norm.
My Back Story:
first off, here’s some back story on my situation before my first thru hike in 2015 that made the shift in to long distance hiking a little more accessible for me than others.
In 2015, I was single, unpartnered, and without any children. No one in my family was in need of my care. I’m white, able bodied, straight cis female of average height and weight, a US Citizen, and a native English speaker. I did not own a home or property. I had easy access to hiking trails in the pacific northwest as well as used gear and local gear shop sales. My job at the time was not my career dream job, although I liked it, I was willing to leave it. All of these things added up together made planning and preparing for a long distance hike in the US much smoother for me. It still felt challenging, but I had less obstacles to navigate.
Even with the above, you have to pay for your hike. It’s not 6 months of free living. Financially, I wasn’t in the best shape when I decided to plan for the PCT, but I had 6 months to chip away at getting my finances in order. Fortunately, they were not all that complicated. My main debts to tend to and be prepared to cover while away hiking were a balance on my credit card, an auto loan and student loans. I did not have a savings account, nor did I have ties to any family wealth. At the time, I worked in the food service industry as a manager of an adorable juice barand sometimes took on nanny gigs for extra income.
My Current Story:
It’s 2021. PCT and AZT are in my past. CDT is in my future. Still single (there has been love and flings in the mix, promise!). No kids. No house. All those other things about who I am and how I look and move in the world still hold true.
Now, I work a job I love that awards me a lifestyle I love. I take people on dreamy hiking and biking vacations all over the American West year round (with weeks on and off scattered throughout the year). I have great coworkers, spend most of my time outside, and have time to travel and see my family multiple times a year. Covid put a bit of a damper on this, but, I’ve been rolling with the punches.
I still don’t own a house or land, but my work provides housing wherever I am scheduled as a perk of the job. I own a little Honda Element that I’ve built out. I’ve drastically downsized, so all of my belongings fit into her (except a bin of mementoes I’ve stashed at my parents’). Her name is Toasty, she’s great.
Cost of a Thru-Hike
How much does a thru-hike cost? Short answer? It depends.
On the PCT I had a friend that spent nearly $10,000 for his 6 month hike while another spent only $3,500. The difference? The one that spent very little ALWAYS took free food from hiker boxes- even the unlabeled mystery powders. He also shipped himself a lot of very cheap dehydrated food and carried it all, even if he had 6 days of food to carry and the next town was only 3 days away. He did not pass up free food or food he had already purchased for himself previously. He also spent less time in hotels in towns and did not have to replace much of his gear along the hike. And the one that spent $10,000? Let’s just say, he had a TON of fun on towns and he also had to eat a lot of food- like more than double the average hiker- to keep from disappearing.
I wish I had kept better track, but on both of my PCT hikes I’d say I spent somewhere in the ballpark of $6000 to $7000 (gear for hike, food, hotels, transportation to trailheads) and I was on trail for about 5.5 months.
A general break down of my PCT costs:
| Gear | $1000-$2000 | bought before & during hike |
| trail food | $2000 | $10-$15 per day |
| town food | $2000 | $30/ meal & drinks |
| hotels/hostels | $600 | $25-50/ night, shared rooms |
| transportation | $500 | flights, shuttles, taxi, donations |
I spent $6000 to $7000 on each of my PCT thru hikes.
All of this averages to spending about $30-$40 per day for my 5.5 months on the PCT.
Can you do it for cheaper? Yes. Can you spend more? Yes. Easily.
A General Break Down of my AZT Costs
| Gear | $500 | I already owned most gear |
| trail food | $600 | $10-$15 per day |
| town food | $800 | $30 per meal & drinks |
| hotels | $450 | $50 -$75 per night most places |
| transportation | $700 | flights, ubers, shuttles, gas money |
I spent about $3,000 on my 6 week AZT thru hike.
This averages to spending about $75 per day on my 6 week AZT hike.
Why did the AZT cost so much more daily than the PCT? Due to injury and weather, my hike was a flip flop hike and transportation was quite expensive. I also often stayed in hotel rooms by myself, so the cost of rooming was more. I had more time eating in towns due to injury and illness as well.
But How Did YOU pay for these hikes? Don’t you have bills? What about your job?
With every thru hike I have planned, I have found myself in a different situation and thus prepared and paid for them differently each time.
Saving for PCT 2015 hike:
When I made the decision to hike the PCT my bank account had less than $1,000 in it, I had at least $3,000 on a credit card, and didn’t have much wiggle room to put a lot of money aside once my paycheck was cashed. I knew I was going to have my work cut out for me getting the money together.
First, I sold off more than half of my belongings. Furniture, clothes, rugs, old hiking gear, kitchen supplies, etc to pay down my debt and buy my hiking gear. I downsized drastically and moved my remaining belongings into a friend’s basement and moved out of the space I was renting.
A friend suggested I put together a go-fund-me and I had many friends and family members eager to help get me out on the trail. I would not have been able to do the hike that year with out their help, which was incredibly humbling. My mother took over paying my phone bill while I hiked and my aunt took over my car payment. A friend “rented” my car while I was away and covered the cost of insurance. (Another friend loaned me $1,500 half way into my hike, which I was able to pay back 3 months post hike.)
I worked as many extra shifts at my juice bar job as I could leading up to the hike and picked up some nanny work as well. I gave my boss a 9 month notice and spent a lot of time getting the place ready for new management.
When I began hiking April 28, 2015, I had paid off my credit card debt, gotten the gear I needed, and had $3000 in the bank. I assumed I’d spend about $500 a month, but very quickly realized it was going to cost me more than that!
When my hike was complete, I had drained my bank account to almost nothing, owed a friend $1500, and had another $2,000 back on my credit card.
Whoops! Broke, a little anxious, and longing for the trail, my former employer gave me part time work as I tried to figure out what to do next.
How about hike again? ok!
Saving for PCT 2016 hike:
By January of 2016, I had paid off most of my debt from the previous summer’s hike and had begun saving for the next.
I worked 4 jobs that winter and had next to no social life. I delivered food with postmates in between jobs, was a host at a fine dining restaurant, nannied 2 days a week, and picked up shifts at my old juice bar job.
Rather than move into an apartment, I rotated staying with friends (contributing towards their utilities) and picked up house sitting and animal sitting gigs.
By the time I set foot on the trail in the spring of 2016, I had zero credit debt and $4,500 in the bank. I knew it wouldn’t be enough to cover all of my bills and the hike for the next 5.5 months, so I put my hiking expenses on my credit card and paid some of it down at the end of each month.
Annnnnd when my hike was complete, I had once again, drained my bank account (I think I had $50, no lie) and had about $4,000 on my credit card? Fortunately, once again, I had work waiting for me at my old job training another new manager.
Knowing I’d want to travel more and hike more and growing tired of getting jobs and quitting jobs for hikes, I looked into season work in the outdoor industry. After a winter of waitressing and paying of my PCT debt, I transitioned into working for an active travel company as a hiking and biking guide.
Saving for AZT 2019 hike:
I had been working my seasonal outdoorsy job for 2 years when I decided to hike the AZT, which worked perfectly timing wise before my summer work season was under way. I didn’t have to take work off or quit my life to make it happen, I just naturally wasn’t scheduled to lead trips at that time.
Guess how I paid for it? My credit card. I didn’t have the money saved and needed to keep cash in my account for bills. Knowing I was scheduled for full on lucrative work directly after the hike had me feeling ok with throwing $3,000 onto my card. I had been really sick the winter prior and had a some medical debt along with a few other unexpected money sucks (somewhere to the tune of $10,000). I knew the hike would be good for my mental health after the challenges I’d experienced, so I went for it.
By the Spring of 2020, after accepting a position with my company that gave me year round guiding work, I was completely credit debt free, no longer had a car payment, and was beginning to set money aside into a savings account.
Saving for CDT 2021 hike:
Knowing I wanted to hike the CDT in 2021, I intentionally set money aside into a savings account specifically for the hike during the summer of 2020. Because of covid, I was unemployed for 6 months, but was still able to put money into savings for the hike thanks to the additional federal unemployment funds. I also was not paying full rent. I was either based out of my car (a honda element with a little camping set up), or with family, or staying with a friend trading work on their house for rent.
When I finally got back to work in the fall of 2020, my hours were drastically lower than usual, but work provided housing so once again there were big savings there.
As I write this I am due to begin my CDT hike in 5 weeks. I have $10,000 set aside to cover my hiking expenses and life expenses while I am away. This time, I would like to come back and still have a few dollars to my name. My job has graciously granted me the summer to hike and my job leading hiking and biking trips will be waiting for me in the fall when the company expects to be running closer to our normal work load.
Priorities and Privilege
We all have the things in our lives that we prioritize and work towards making happen. For me, right now, that’s a life of travel, hiking, work that gives me the opportunity to share my love of the outdoors and movement with others (that pays a livable wage), and time spent with family. But, it wouldn’t be honest to say that anyone can just make all of their priorities come to fruition in their lives easily or without major sacrifice or struggle or obstacles beyond their control getting in the way- often times a big does of privilege gives a person a major head start when shaping their ideal, weird and glorious life. And money. Ya need at least a little bit of money.
I’m grateful for the love and support I have all around me. I have friends and family that want to see me happy, to see me pursuing the things that bring me joy and fulfillment and make me feel proud, alive, and connected. They encourage me, lift me up when I need support, and enthusiastically encourage me to keep pursuing this wacky life I live. Not everyone has that.
Not everyone feels comfortable in outdoor spaces because of how they look or where they’ve come from. Not everyone has the liberty to quit their job for a 6 month hike, no matter how desperately they want to, because they have children to support or parents to care for or debt too great to walk away from. Not everyone has a big network of friends and family that can provide a warm bed when they are pinching pennies together. Having these liberties are a privilege that can not be ignored or denied.
Considering all of these things, I encourage those of you that DESPERATELY want to go on a long hike but feel like you can’t figure out how to pay for it, to try and look at your situation through an untraditional lense. Consider your priorities. Consider the ideals you’ve held onto that equate to success in your world. Do you need your car? Can you downsize? Can you defer a student loan? Can you rent out your home on airbnb? Could you sublet your apartment? Can you find a care taker for your cat? Do you have family that would house you temporarily? Your job- do you love it? Or is it time to switch careers? What about all your stuff- do you really need it or could you sell it? Could you cut your food and drink expenses for a year? What if you quit smoking and put that money aside? Only made coffee at home and skipped that starbucks latte? Are there sponsorships or scholarships you could apply for? Examine everything and see what you come up with. And then, look at it again. Run it by a trusted friend or find a mentor. Make a plan and take some steps.
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