Bold claim: The year-long journey to 10,000 miles isn’t just a milestone—it’s a statement about human endurance, ambition, and the unpredictable drama of the road. But here’s where it gets controversial... is chasing a number sometimes about proving a point more than about the journey itself? This rewritten account preserves the key events and insights while offering clearer explanations and a smoother flow for beginners.
Two Hikers Reach the 10,000+ Mile Thru-Hike Milestone
This morning, Slide and I woke up in our Big Pine Key Motel room with just 35 miles left to reach the southernmost point in Key West. Today marks the final day of my calendar-year hike—the culmination of a 10,000-mile year. Although I crossed the 10,000-mile mark the previous night, I decided to push on to complete the year at the Key West terminus alongside Slide. He would also reach 10,000 miles hiked for the year. Before this year, only two male hikers had surpassed 10,000 miles within a 12-month period, and none did so within a calendar year. In 2022 another hiker achieved a border-to-border calendar-year triple crown, totaling 8,500 miles. A couple of weeks ago another hiker, Punisher, whom I hiked with earlier in the year, also surpassed 10,000 miles for the year—though the final stretch of that journey resembled an ultramarathon in pace and style, rather than traditional hiking. The relevance of that distinction varies by viewpoint.
Packing up today felt surreal, knowing it was the last day of through-hiking for the year. A year ago today, I woke up in roughly the same spot. On January 1, I began the B2BCYTC journey, kicking off with a 32-mile first day. Remarkably, I slept in nearly the same place on my first night as I did on this final night of the year. I never imagined I would end up in the Florida Keys wrapping up a 10,000-mile year. When I set out to complete B2BCYTC, the notion of reaching this distance seemed almost impossible. If someone had told me I’d reach 9,000 miles, I would have been astonished, let alone surpassing that by another thousand miles. It’s a privilege that my body carried me this far, and a testament to setting a goal that felt unimaginable—and then surpassing it by a wide margin.
I recall joking in January about what I would do if I actually completed B2BCYTC, given how unlikely it seemed. If I had aimed to push my own boundaries and discover my limit, what would happen if I didn’t reach one? What if, instead of hitting a limit, I discovered that limits don’t exist at all?
Now I confront that exact question. Earlier this year I faced a serious setback when I was injured, and I wasn’t sure I could finish B2BCYTC. I asked the universe for healing, offering to endure the remainder of the year in silence if it allowed me to continue the trail and give the calendar-year triple crown my best shot. I truly believed that with that chance I could cover the remaining 4,500 miles. Thankfully, the wish came true. The injury didn’t vanish, but it healed enough to keep me going. Over time, the pain lessened, and I grew accustomed to the occasional ache in my hip. That injury in May proved to be a pivotal lesson: it humbled me and made me more grateful for every obstacle I faced along the way. The hiker who emerged on the other side was not only grateful but more resilient.
As the journey nears its end, I can’t help but revisit the central question: what comes next after achieving such a monumental goal? If I’ve shown myself I can do absolutely anything I devote myself to, what then? The answer isn’t simple. I spent much of today reflecting on what the year has shown me about my own capabilities. When I give my best, the only real obstacles left are weather and injury. The rest is within reach. There were countless moments of cold, discomfort, fear, and fatigue—days filled with extreme weather, soaked and cold, or moments of fear around wildlife in Montana and Wyoming. Dusk in grizzly country was a daunting fear, yet none of these experiences forced me home. I kept going, even when the pace felt grueling, and I still found a way to press forward, embodying the stubborn resolve echoed in Sinatra’s words: you chew it up and spit it out.
This final day promised abundance: good food, friends, family, and the satisfaction of a year’s worth of effort. We started with coffee and pastries from a gas station across the street, savoring treats that rivaled anything I’d tasted in the Keys. The day’s route followed short bridges along the ocean, then a long stretch on a wooden boardwalk as we crossed Summerland Key, followed by Cudjoe Key and Upper Sugarloaf Key. Island-hopping all day offered endless ocean views and moments of calm amidst the miles.
I made a conscious effort to stay present, to savor every moment of this last hiking day. Final days often pass quickly, slipping through your fingers, so I tried to engage fully with the year’s ending. Yet even with intention, the day required a long 35-mile road walk, likely taking around 12 hours, and the mental balance between reflection and staying in the zone is a constant challenge on a trek like this.
The day also carried a joyful anticipation: Sparkle, a close friend, was making her way to us and would begin her own 10,000-mile year the next day. Tonight she joined Slide and me to celebrate the finish, and tomorrow she and her companions would begin their journeys. Sparkle is one of my best companions in the thru-hiking community, someone who endured some of my toughest moments on trail. If anyone can pull off a 10,000-mile year in 2026, I’d bet on her. You can follow her updates at @sparklesummits.
With few gas stations along the late-morning stretch, we stayed focused and moved steadily toward Key West. A lunch break came at a food court, where a handful of food trucks were open. We shared a steak burrito and pressed on, with about 12 miles remaining for the day. On Cow Key, a quirky sidewalk setup funneled us safely along the coast, bringing us close to the ocean’s edge. Soon we encountered Slide’s brother, Eric, biking alongside us for a while, and we reached Key West’s city edge—the famous sign area and eventually the southernmost point.
By the time we reached the monument, the sun was setting. Sparkle, Snacks, Eric, and Jocelyn joined us as we approached, with Sparkle wielding a celebratory sign for me: 'Peg Leg Makes HERstory – 1st Woman to B2BCYTC + 10K Miles.' She also brought a chocolate cake for Slide. The scene was joyful but crowded; a mix of celebration and the oddity of being surrounded by onlookers who asked questions about our journey. While I wished for a quieter moment with just our small group, the setting at the southernmost point of the continental US was inherently public.
Reaching the monument felt surreal and a little overwhelming. The day’s emotions—pride, relief, anxiety—sprung from the mixture of public attention and personal reflection. The end of such a long journey cannot be captured in a single moment. Over the past month, I’ve tried to reconcile the year’s experiences and what they mean for the future. Slide and I both surpassed 10,000 miles this year, marking the moment in the late evening of December 31, 2025. We joined a small group that had achieved this milestone before us, adding one more person to the list: four men and one woman now. It’s astonishing to be the first woman to hike 10,000+ miles in a single year, a fact that still feels unreal.
After some downtime at the monument—with cake, laughter, and rest—we headed back to our room. I was exhausted, having had no real rest day since Denver, more than 44 days prior, during our early Pensacola start. We spent the night recovering, knowing a new chapter would begin soon for Sparkle and her friends, while Slide and I prepared for the immediate days ahead.
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