About
The PCT Hiker Trash Yearbook
The PCT Museum
Hiker Trash

Greetings

My name is Doug Hark.
Trail Name: Grateful.
I am a PCT Hiker Trash, and like many of you, the Pacific Crest Trail changed my life.

Let’s begin with a trail tale.

In 2020, on the first day of the pandemic, I stepped onto the Pacific Crest Trail and into a strange, uncertain, unforgettable adventure.

What began as a hike in the mountains quickly became something more: a reminder that the PCT community is held together by stories, resilience, and the ways we show up for one another.

The pandemic created confusion and uncertainty, prompting many hikers who were ready to go to never set out on the trail.

After learning firsthand that our PCT permits were still valid and that the government had said we could be on the trail, I started encouraging hikers to return to the trail.

I didn’t expect the response.

In Idlewild, I skipped ahead to Tehachapi because of the snow and then started hiking south.

As I hiked, people going north kept stopping me and asking, “Are you Grateful?”
I’d usually respond, “Are you Grateful?”

Over the next 380 miles, I met over 200 hikers, and a third thanked me for my videos, which brought them back to the trail, and shared their stories.

I’ll never forget hiking up a hill and hearing someone screaming, only to look up and see some guy on a rock jumping up and down, pointing at me. I spent the next 15 minutes listening to their story, which humbled me, as every story did.

In that moment, I saw something clearly: the stories of the PCT matter.
Our words carry weight.
Our stories guide each other.
And our shared experiences deserve to be preserved, not lost.

The last PCT Yearbook was in 2022, and most weren’t aware of it.
By 2025, most hikers had never heard of a PCT Yearbook.

Since then, as both a hiker and a trail angel, I’ve seen how deeply PCT Hikers want their journeys honored and recorded.

That’s why PCT Hiker Trash Media and the PCT Museum were created.
This project is a new beginning: created from within the PCT community, by Hiker Trash, and those who live the culture and honor the spirit of the Pacific Crest Trail.

The Goal is Simple:

To preserve the stories of those who hike or saunter the long, winding trail from Mexico to Canada.

I’m an artist, and this is my art project.

But it can only be created with you.

Through your photos, your tales, your moments of dirt and rain, tears and pain, magic and joy, those unforgettable sunrises and tramilies.

All this and more make the Pacific Crest Trail what it is

We’re not creating a Yearbook.
We’re creating the PCT Hiker Trash Yearbook.
A living record of a community unlike any other.
We’re PCT Hiker Trash!

Details about the PCT Museum coming soon.

OH yes, what is Hiker Trash?

In a nutshell, being Hiker Trash isn’t about being smelly and dirty.
That’s a byproduct of hiking for months on the trail.
Hiker Trash is a mindset that happens when we become one with the trail.
One must experience it to understand it.

Let me tell you a story about Hiker Trash.

When I first heard the term “Hiker Trash,” I didn’t like it.
When I learned what it was, I understood it.
When I became Hiker Trash, I got it.
I’d be on the PCT for about a month.
I had set up camp and was sitting in the dirt making dinner.
I leaned up against a rock, and it was a perfect fit. I said to myself, “This is a great rock.”
At that moment, I realized I had become one with the trail, and I had become Hiker Trash.
“Hiker Trash” is a badge of honor, a source of humor, and an identity that unites a community, especially among thru-hikers.
The term “Hiker Trash” originated in the 1970s –1980s to describe people who did long-distance backpacking on trails such as the Pacific Crest Trail and the Appalachian Trail.
Townsfolk along the trail would refer to these unshaven, smelly people, with dirty clothes they’d worn for weeks, and looked homeless as “Hiker Trash.”
Hikers eventually adopted the term with pride, turning it into a badge of honor.
Hiker Trash are people who spend weeks or months hiking in the great outdoors with their home on their backs.
During this time, the trail is their home.
They only leave the trail to get supplies, to clean up, and maybe for a night with a shower and a real bed.
Comfort is redefined.
Priorities shift.
The world we once knew melts away.
Hiker Trash share food, stories, rides, and become tramily.
There’s also an unspoken code among Hiker Trash.
They have respect for the trail, help each other out, leave no trace, don’t judge, and hike their own hike.
Hiker Trash is what happens when what was normal isn’t normal, you embrace the dirt and who you are, and you’re Grateful for the trail.
If you haven’t already, you may soon find that moment when you become Hiker Trash.

I am PCT Hiker Trash and…
I am Grateful