Take Evan Miller’s word on this: you never get used to stepping over a rattlesnake, and stepping near one will startle you every time.

“Luckily, never bit,” Miller said.

Miller’s story is one of self reflection and breaking away. Of finding the joy in pushing yourself out of your comfort zone cocoon and finding personal growth in every step, whether it’s over a real or metaphorical rattlesnake. Miller’s story is about stepping away and finding joy in a simple, long walk.

OK, it wasn’t that simple. And it was a really long walk. Starting in April and going 148 days — almost five months — Miller, 21, hiked the Pacific Crest Trail. From the Mexican border in California to the Canadian border in Washington. Through the Sierra Nevada and Cascade ranges. Miller did the entire thing, all 2,653 miles.

The Pacific Crest Trail is a third of the Triple Crown of hiking in the United States, along with the Appalachian Trail, which runs from Georgia to Katahdin here in Maine, and the Continental Divide Trail, which runs from New Mexico to Montana.

A 2022 graduate of Greely High and a Cumberland native, Miller grew up hiking in the White Mountains. He considers himself fortunate to grow up here, where the outdoors can be such an integral piece of life.

On a day in April 2024, he was sitting in his truck, scrolling through his phone while on a break from his job pouring concrete. Miller read an email from the Appalachian Trail Conservancy about Triple Crown hikers on the Continental Divide Trail.

“But the one that really caught my interest was the Pacific Coast Trail. I was super inspired. I was sitting in my truck, and I was like, you know what? I need to make a change. I need to go adventure. I’m so young, and I want to go live this life to its fullest,” Miller said. “So I decided in that moment I was going to go hike the Pacific Crest Trail in one year.”

Miller researched what he’d need on the trail. He saved money and stayed in shape. What he lacked in experience, with just four backpacking trips on his resumé, he made up in enthusiasm. A year later, he took a flight to San Diego, then got a ride from the Pacific Crest Trail Association to CLEEF (Camp Lockett Event and Equestrian Facility), the campground at the southern border of the trail.

Miller started walking.

He turned 21 nine days into the adventure, not on a barstool like so many of us, but in the mountains. Shortly after leaving CLEEF, he connected with a group of hikers who became his trail family. They provided help and wisdom, Miller said.

“I felt really at home,” he said.

His trail name was Parachute, for the distinctive pants he wore early in his hike.

“I forget to apply sunscreen. By the end of those first two days, my legs were fried. Absolutely red like a tomato. I had some rain pants. … People recognized the pants, and the nickname stuck,” Miller said.

Approximately once a week, Miller would head into a town for supplies, laundry, a shower, and a hot meal. When you’re burning through calories like a hummingbird, sugary drinks like Dr. Pepper become your friend. Before his ascent into the Sierra Nevadas, Miller picked up winter gear, including micro spikes and an ice axe.

He brought his fly rod and did some fishing in mountain streams. Even when making friends on the trail, you find yourself alone a lot. People hike at their own pace, catching up at the end of the day.

“I’d see hikers here and there, but it was a lot of time spent with myself, talking to myself, and learning for myself and in my own head,” Miller said. “And it was a really beautiful experience.”

Most of the time, the weather was perfect, but on the day before Miller crossed the Canadian border at the end of the trail, it was pouring and 40 degrees. Cold, numb fingers could barely grip poles to pitch a tent. Miller was ready to go home.

The next day, nearly five months after touching the border wall at Mexico, Miller and a few friends crossed the border into Canada and ended their journey. There was no fanfare, nobody there to greet them. When he came home, Miller went off to Vermont to hike the northern half of the Long Trail with some friends. The short hike helped him readjust to jumping back into life.

Miller’s advice to anybody contemplating a similar mental detour from the fistfight that is modern life is simple. Relax.

“I was very worked up, very stressed out, being that I was going to be on this incredible adventure that I never experienced before. For a while leading up to it, I was really concerned about what was going to happen, where I was going to be. Who I was going to meet,” he said. “As soon as I stepped on the trail, all of those fears just dissolved away.”

Miller is spending the winter working at a ski resort in Telluride, Colorado. He’s planning a Continental Divide Trail hike. There is always another adventure to plan, if you’re ready for it.