This piece is an excerpt from our April 2021 edition of Passages. If you are interested in reading more, the April Passages is currently available to members and will become available for non-members in August.
CDTC board member Amiththan Sebarajah started the CDT by traveling away from his new fiancée, Valerie Cowan. But every step apart was also a step towards home.
This Q&A with Amiththan Sebarajah and Valerie Cowanhas been edited for space. Photos courtesy of Amiththan Sebarajah and Valerie Cowan.
Q: Could you tell the story of how you two met?
AMITHTHAN: Is it too saccharine to say that our trails have been running somewhat parallel for along time, for almost two decades, spanning two provinces and one very close mutual friend—except that we didn’t meet each other face to face, kept repeatedly missing each other in comical ways? I’d visit our mutual friend who was my neighbor in Toronto and later that day Valerie would visit her. The two of us were never in the same place at the same time, but were often in the same space just before after the other. I was supposed to be at a wedding to which Valerie was also invited, except that I wasn’t able to make it. It went on like that for decades but always sort of unbeknownst to each other, missing each other by moments. Finally our mutual friend came to visit me in British Columbia and Valerie came with her as a chaperone. I remember trying to convince her to get a bike and not a cat, that she should bike back and enjoy her singledom rather than surrendering to the whims of a cat. Our first date was unplanned but it involved a sunset dinner and a bottle of wine atop Blackcomb mountain in Whistler. I didn’t officially ask her to be my partner until after I finished the Arizona Trail, where she came to pick me up. I asked her to be my girlfriend to the witness of saguaro cacti — seemed appropriate. Few months later, I proposed to her the day before I set out to hike the CDT in the witness of another cactus in the majestic Horse Thief Canyon on the way to Waterton National Park.
Q: Why did you decide to hike the CDT, and why at this particular moment?
AMITHTHAN: Valerie knew that I was really into distance hiking. I mean I rarely shut up about it if someone was willing to listen. She always encouraged it. If it wasn’t for her I would not have put myself and my hiking-related advocacy out there on social media. Her support was decisive in my applying for the 2019 Badger Sponsorship and the CDTC Ambassador program, reaching out to organizations and brands that I liked and whose work in the outdoor space I respected. I came first overall in the Badger sponsorship competition, much to my surprise and to Valerie’s delight.
Q: Did you always know that you were going to hike solo? Valerie, was this trip something you would have considered joining?
AMITHTHAN: Distance hiking is always done alone, even when you are in the company of another. That said, nobody hikes truly alone because we depend on the community around us and alongside us. I knew I was alone out there, but I never felt lonely, ever. Thru-hiking is a communal activity done by individuals, I think. That’s how I still will always approach it. It’d been quite lovely to be able to share that with someone so intimately. In that way hiking the CDT solo newly engaged was such a pleasant surprise.
VALERIE: I didn’t know much about thru-hiking before I met Amiththan but once he was preparing for his trip I definitely wished I could go. Amiththan had not just one, but two hikes planned before we started dating. He was planning to hike the Arizona trail and then the Continental Divide Trail in the same year. We had been seeing each other for a couple of months but we didn’t talk about being in a relationship before he left. Our relationship kept growing stronger while he was on the Arizona Trail and when he was getting close to the end of his hike, I quite honestly could not wait to see him so I offered to pick him up from the end of his hike. I flew from Vancouver, Canada, to Las Vegas, rented a car and
drove to the end of the Arizona trail to meet him. We had the most amazing drive back together. All through Arizona, then across the desert during a superbloom, heading back to Las Vegas. It was during a stop on this trip that he asked me to be his girlfriend. We lived together in Vancouver for a couple of months and then he left for the Continental Divide Trail. Knowing that this trail would take much longer I again offered to drive him to the trailhead so we could spend a few extra days together. We embarked on a beautiful but bittersweet road trip,
this time through Alberta, Canada. At one point in our trip, we unexpectedly found a cluster of cacti which had been so common in the Arizona desert, and as we were watching a particularly beautiful sunset at a particularly beautiful spot, surrounded by these blooming desert cacti, Amiththan asked me to marry him. Saying goodbye, two days after he proposed, was one of the hardest goodbyes.
Q: What came up in discussions about the trip and your relationship, prior to the start of the hike? Did you two plan for contingencies, or was it more of a “take it as it comes” approach?
VALERIE: It was definitely a “take it as it comes” approach. One of the things I’ve learned about being in a relationship with a thru-hiker is that plans are never fixed. Perhaps, much like life, thru-hiking plans are contingent upon so many other moving parts and a big key to staying safe on trail is being flexible about where, when, and how you travel. But, the flipside is that you open yourself up to the possibility of experiencing completely wonderful surprises. One of the most romantic calls I have ever received was from Amiththan, on the CDT. He was in the middle of a section, so I wasn’t expecting to hear from him for a few days, but my phone started ringing. Amiththan found a random patch of cell phone service at the top of a mountain and his first thought was to call me.
Q: What was going through your head and around you as you two parted in Montana?
VALERIE: It was so tough. I had a 7 hour drive by myself from the trailhead to the airport. I cried for most of the trip, a mix of happy tears and sad tears.
I wouldn’t change anything about our story, but I do want to offer a word of warning to anyone reading this; it is very disorienting to propose to someone on the day before you walk off into the wilderness for 4 months!
Q: As your trip continued, what parts of long distance dating while long-distance hiking were the hardest? Were there any surprises, or interesting ways to keep in touch that you two discovered?
AMITHTHAN: Since all of my previous hikes were solo, I was not only single but was really attuned to the idea that to have a well stocked library and a good dog in a cabin somewhere bucolic are all that I really wanted out of a happy life. There wasn’t any room in that vision for another human being.
That might sound misanthropic but it was really reflective of my headspace back then. I had spent a lot of time as an academic-activist in a previous life and was really tired of the toll it took on me and the people around me. To truly advocate for something sometimes requires your everything and I strongly felt it was unfair to involve someone else in that process. But I think that’s maybe something we tell ourselves because we cannot, for whatever reason, imagine the type of support and partnership we deserve. I’m so glad Valerie was able to lead me to that path, rescue me from an life of hermitage. On the trail, it was difficult being away when your partner needed you; but it was also an opportunity for me to think deeply about priorities. If I had to get off trail on other hikes, I’d always have these incessant calculus of pros and cons but when I had to take a week off and spend a bit of time when she really needed me, even if she didn’t actually have to verbalize that need, the decision to pause the hike was a non-thought. I booked a train trip back to Vancouver from Glacier National Park.
VALERIE: Being in a long-distance relationship has all kinds of challenges and it was certainly a challenge for us because we made a huge decision to spend the rest of our lives together but were still getting to know one another — and that process of getting to know each other, for the most part, happened on town days in the midst of a 3,000 mile hike. But Amiththan was amazing at keeping in touch with me. I always knew how important I was to him and I felt so loved throughout his hikes. He pre-programmed a few messages into his Garmin In-Reach and he would send one message every night when he was getting ready for bed. It had his GPS location so I knew where he was, knew that he was safe and knew that he was thinking of me. He kept a brief daily journal which he would send when he got cell phone service; he called me when he got into town; he sent additional messages on the Garmin if he was in a difficult situation; he even took time to mail me packages with hand-written letters, special rocks, and feathers and flowers he found on trail. I think it takes a lot of time and flexibility on both people’s part to maintain communication in a long-distance relationship but I learned a lot from Amiththan and I have memories — as well as bits of bird feathers and semi precious stones that I will always cherish from his hikes.
Q: What was a particularly trying moment for you?
AMITHTHAN: Getting through Glacier National Park south-bound on a high and then feeling like I would rather be next to Valerie right now or being on top of some of the highest peaks in Glacier, wishing that I could share this moment. It was a really novel feeling; this needing to share and be beside another person at moments of intense personal exultation. It was strange to experience a feeling of lack at not being able to share a moment. Where before I felt so much personal joy and pride, I felt an incompleteness. There were so many things we needed to talk through and figure out; finding a random cell phone signal on top of a town-facing mountain, making the most of these frustrating phone calls. A thru-hike may not be the place to start a relationship if your foundations or the connection you feel with each other aren’t strong. I’ve met couples who started a thru-hike together, engaged, and were broken up within the first few days. And also people who met on trail and became engaged at the end, carrying and forging a relationship to themselves and with each other between the antipodes of a trail. You need to commit, period. We didn’t always have things figured out and it’d be a lie to say that things were a breeze. I always knew that I’d be walking home to Valerie. Of that I had no doubts, in that sense, it was as easy as hiking up a 30% gradient.
Q: Can you talk about being reunited after you finished hiking? Where and how did you meet up?
AMITHTHAN: A thru-hiker-honeymooning couple I met on the AZT were doing a bit of field work near the CDT route. They offered me a ride back home as far as Oregon. Valerie drove out from Vancouver, BC to meet me there. I made dinner for us all. It was nice to be around another young couple who were also thru-hikers. We also made sure to take time at an isolated cove somewhere off the Oregon coast before driving back to Vancouver — to debrief, sit in that sort of comfortable silence. It was emotional and cathartic. And necessary. Thru-hiking can be such an isolating experience.
Q: Do you have any tips or recommendations for folks who may be in the same boat in the future?
AMITHTHAN: I think my hike and town days became a little bit more fun, to focalise the experience for not just me but for someone else. I always loved looking for cool rocks on trails. It became even more fun to be able to carry a piece of rock—literally, a rock when you are trying to be as light as possible—and carry it to town so you can mail it. It became a way to tell the story, let that other person be part of your narrative. Protip: flowers and feathers are so much lighter. One of the unexpected parts of this process was opening yourself up for unplanned experiences, just like a thru-hike. For example, I wandered off in East Glacier Village looking for something fun to send back in the mail and ended up at a jeweler’s house. She is Blackfeet. Being there in her studio space and gallery, talking with her, telling her about my engagement, our mutual shared joy, and the earrings she and I picked out for Valerie were all so surreal. I really felt blessed that day, coming out of her lovely space. And Valerie loved the earrings, too, of course. Thru-hiking is ultimately a very selfish, quite personal thing to do whether we are aware of it or not. It is quite difficult to convey in its totality all that’s happening within you and to you to someone outside of that experience. But in the effort to try to involve them and share with them this process, I think as a hiker you end up appreciating other things about your hike and what’s happening on trail. You feel connected to your experience in a wholly different way.
Amiththan Sebarajah is CDTC board member. Valerie Cowan is a community coordinator for the Lardeau Valley in British Columbia, where she and Amiththan reside.
