Abby Swain: 105 Days, Thousands of Kilometres and a Journey Back to Herself

The Sarnia Journal has partnered with local photographer Art Connolly to feature his captivating “Humans of Sarnia” series as he delves into the lives and experiences of everyday people in Sarnia.

Abby Swain was born and raised in Sarnia until she was 12 years old, when she moved to Guelph with her mom and sister.

Her teenage years were difficult. Abby says she struggled during that period of her life and missed so much school that she eventually dropped out. As she got older, however, she came to understand the value of education and eventually completed the requirements for her high school diploma.

Abby eventually returned to Sarnia, where she now lives with her mom, her brother, his wife and her nephew. It is a close-knit family, all living together under one roof. There are also two other members of the household—Abby's black Labrador retriever Gracie and Nora, her calico cat.

Since returning to Sarnia, Abby has continued building her business, Abby's Pet Care, providing dog walking, cat sitting and house-sitting services. She hopes to eventually add dog grooming and training to the business.

Abby loves the freedom that comes with working for herself.

“I get to pick my own schedule and my co-workers are dogs,” she says with a laugh. “Some days I am walking for hours and hours. I love it so much.”

Recently, Abby had the opportunity to experience a lot more of those hours of walking.

At the end of September, she returned home after spending 105 days hiking the Pacific Crest Trail.

The Pacific Crest Trail is one of North America's most famous long-distance hiking trails, stretching approximately 4,265 kilometres from the U.S.–Mexico border in Southern California to the U.S.–Canada border in Washington State.

For Abby, the dream of hiking the trail began when she was a child. “I have thought about it since I was a kid. I read about it in a National Geographic magazine when I was 11 or 12. I just always thought about it.”

Abby has always been drawn to walking in the woods.

“I would always just walk in the woods for hours and hours. It was my therapy. I was a really anxious person and I struggled. I don't know. It just always spoke to me.”

“Being outdoors is where I find that I'm most myself. I love my independent time and being alone.”

This year, Abby finally decided to take on the challenge.

She began her journey at Sonora Pass in central California, which is approximately the halfway mark of the trail, planning to hike approximately the same amount of trail in each of California, Oregon and Washington.

California proved to be the most physically challenging part of the journey.

Not all of the California section of the trail is maintained, particularly in Northern California, where wildfire concerns can make trail maintenance difficult.

Abby found herself navigating through fallen trees (blowdowns) and vegetation so thick that she could barely see where she was going. “Northern California is so wild and so fast that they leave it. It was one of the hardest parts because it was blowdown after blowdown.”

Then there was the bushwhacking.

“The bush is so thick you cannot see past it. That's what I'm walking through and there's a cliff on the side and you have to hope that you don't walk off that and you can't even see your feet. It is so thick.”

The journey also gave Abby a firsthand look at the devastating effects of wildfire. “In California there are 100 miles of that Dixie fire that took out over 100 miles of forest and now there is just black ash everywhere. The ash does not come off your skin or your clothes.”

Oregon was somewhat less difficult than California, but it certainly wasn't easy. “In Oregon there were over 380 blowdowns in one day that I did. It's insane.”

After walking for hours, fatigue could make navigating those obstacles even more difficult. “You get clumsy during the end of the day, so you're scraping your legs, and your legs are bleeding and your clothes are ripped.”

But the trail could also change dramatically. “Other times it is well maintained and then you have a good time.”

Abby walked between eight and 10 hours a day. “I trained but no amount of training can prepare you for when you are actually out there.”

In one day, she walked 92,000 steps while completing her journey of 2,638 kms.

For most of the journey, Abby hiked and camped alone. There were only a handful of occasions when she travelled with someone else who happened to be walking at approximately the same pace.

For someone who values her independence, the solitude was not necessarily negative.

In fact, it became one of the things she appreciated most about the experience. “The best part about this trip was that I wasn't looking at the news. I wasn't watching TV. Oh, it was so nice!”

When she had cell phone service, Abby would occasionally go online and post some photographs. “And that was it. I would put my phone back down. I would only call my family and boyfriend.”

Learning to Carry Less

The trail also taught Abby a lesson about what she really needed.

When she began her journey, her backpack weighed approximately 35 pounds, including food and water.

That weight didn't last long.

“I ended up exchanging a lot of gear and getting rid of a lot of stuff. So, my base weight became 15 lbs. in about the first month of the trip.”

She soon realized that much of what she had packed was based on uncertainty. “You realize you don't need it. I bought a bunch of what-if stuff and a bunch of ‘Oh, I might need this’ stuff.”

One of the things Abby eventually eliminated was the rope she had been carrying for bear hangs—a method hikers use to suspend food in trees and keep it away from bears. Instead, she eventually decided to sleep with her food inside her tent.

“Which was the best choice because you don't want to wake up and find that a bear got your food and you're four days out from a resupply.”

There was one night when a bear actually came close.

“At one point I had a bear sniffing around my tent, and I heard it so I yelled HEY really loud and it just ran off.” Abby wasn't particularly worried. “It's just black bears, so they are way more scared of you than you are of them.”

She also reduced the weight of her pack by getting rid of most of her clothing. Eventually, she kept one set of hiking clothes and a pair of pajamas.

She swam in lakes whenever possible and did what she could to stay clean while keeping her pack as light as possible.

The Hardest Part Wasn't Walking

Considering that Abby spent 105 days walking thousands of kilometres, one might assume the physical demands were the hardest part. Surprisingly, Abby says they weren't.

“The thing that is most exhausting about the trail is the decisions and figuring everything out.”

“I could walk all day, but the micro decisions—and if you make one bad decision out there, it could cost you your life. So it's a lot of pressure.”

There were serious consequences to those decisions. Abby says four people died on the trail during the year she hiked—three from falls and one from hypothermia.

The danger wasn't always obvious. “People don't realize that it's freaking cold out there.” Abby had many beautiful nights on the trail, but by August the temperatures had changed.

“I was freezing every single night, shivering to bed. I was just freezing at night. My tent would freeze. I would have snow and frost on my sleeping bag and on my tent.”

Then, in September, Abby experienced one of the most frightening moments of her journey.

She had hiked approximately 30 kilometres that day and was about 15 kilometres from a road when the weather suddenly deteriorated.

“It started to torrential downpour. Freezing rain and hail and my rain jacket didn't work anymore and none of the waterproofing worked, so I was soaked to the bone.” Everything was wet.

“My skin started to turn purple, and as I was walking my shoes got wet, so I was walking in a puddle in my shoes.”

Eventually, Abby knew she had to stop.

“So, it got dangerous. I found a place to set up camp.” She was close to pressing the SOS button on her GPS. “I was pre-hypothermic. I couldn't feel my hands or feet.”

She tried to warm herself using a plastic container filled with boiled water, placing it inside her sleeping bag. “I couldn't feel the boiling water in the plastic jug.” Abby eventually contacted her mom, who was able to book her a hotel room.

There was still a problem.

The hotel was 15 kilometres away.

Abby had to hike back through the conditions to reach it.

It wasn't just cold and hiking that were challenges. Abby also encountered 5 rattlesnakes with two of them rattling at her and one striking at her and missing her by an inch.

The Kindness of Strangers

For all the challenges Abby encountered, there was also an extraordinary amount of kindness along the trail.

Long-distance hikers often talk about Trail Angels—people who voluntarily help hikers, often complete strangers.

A Trail Angel might offer a ride into town for groceries or laundry, provide food and cold drinks at a road crossing, offer a shower or a place to sleep, help with a resupply box, or simply sit and talk with an exhausted hiker.

For someone who has been walking for hundreds or even thousands of kilometres, those seemingly small gestures can mean a great deal.

Abby experienced the generosity of Trail Angels during her journey and remains genuinely thankful for the people who helped her along the way.

“Yes, Multiple Times”

After hearing about the difficult terrain, the cold, the injuries, the wildlife and the weather, I asked Abby if she ever thought about giving up.

Her answer was immediate.

“Yes. Multiple times.”

And yet she kept walking.

For 105 days, Abby put one foot in front of the other. She carried less. She learned to make difficult decisions. She dealt with loneliness, exhaustion, freezing temperatures and dangerous weather. She witnessed the devastation left behind by wildfire and experienced the kindness of complete strangers.

And eventually, she came home to Sarnia.

The journey would not have been possible without the people who supported her along the way. Abby says her boyfriend Colin, her mom Kelly, her dad Jon and her uncle Andrew were important sources of support during her adventure.

Now that she is home, Abby is back walking.

But instead of hiking through the mountains and forests of the Pacific Crest Trail, she is once again walking the streets and trails of Sarnia—often accompanied by one of her favourite four-legged co-workers.

And perhaps that is what makes Abby's story so fitting.

Long before she ever stepped onto the Pacific Crest Trail, she had already discovered what walking could give her.

Quiet.

Independence.

Time to think.

And a place where she could simply be herself.

Sometimes the journey begins long before we realize we're already on it.

Humans of Sarnia founder Art Connolly is a man fuelled by curiosity and a passion for connecting with people in Sarnia. Inspired by the renowned “Humans of New York” series, with a camera in hand, he captures the very essence of the individuals he encounters, preserving their stories through his lens. Follow his series at the Humans of Sarnia website and on Facebook.