Listen to the sounds of the PCT with this free map.

In a world where most thru-hikers commemorate their epic journeys through a cascade of photographs, LA-based artist and sound recordist Tom Kelly embarked on a quest in 2023 to capture something far more ephemeral, yet profoundly immersive: the auditory tapestry of the 2,650-mile Pacific Crest Trail (PCT). Kelly, a seasoned nature sound field recordist, composer, and musician, eschewed the typical camera gear, instead shouldering an impressive 40 ounces of specialized audio recording equipment. His mission was to meticulously document the unique acoustic environment of the trail, pausing his arduous trek to capture the subtle symphony of the wilderness. From the gentle murmur of burbling creeks and the incessant chorus of chirping insects to the whisper of wind through tall grass and the drumming of rain on a tent fly, Kelly’s sensitive microphones were attuned to every sonic nuance. He even captured the lively chatter of fellow hikers, adding a human dimension to his sonic exploration.

The result of this ambitious undertaking, meticulously compiled over two years, is an interactive and freely accessible sound map. This innovative project, available at Thomas M. Kelly’s website, offers a unique portal into the sensory experience of the PCT, transcending the visual to engage listeners on a deeper, more visceral level. Reporter Amelia Arvesen delved into the intricacies of Kelly’s project, exploring the myriad challenges of capturing pristine audio in the remote backcountry and the profound impact he hopes his sound map will have on its audience.

Kelly’s journey into the world of sound recording began organically, rooted in his lifelong passion for immersing himself in the natural world. "I’m a nature sound field recordist, I’m a composer, and music performer based in Los Angeles, California," Kelly explains. "What led me to recording sound on the PCT is kind of the natural history I have of recording sound in spaces that I would travel to in general." This innate curiosity and creative drive meant that a field recorder was always an essential companion on his travels. "Leading up to the PCT, I’ve always had a field recorder with me because it is just very natural for me to bring it along as my way to interface with the space that I’m in." The PCT, with its vast and varied landscapes, presented an unparalleled opportunity to deepen this practice. "Getting to the Pacific Crest Trail, I knew that this was going to be my method of creativity while I was hiking."

However, the precise form of this creative endeavor was not predetermined. "When I set out, I didn’t necessarily know what the project was going to be, or if there was even going to be a project to begin with," Kelly admits. "But I knew that I wanted to engage in the practice of listening and recording sound along the trail." This open-ended approach allowed for serendipitous discoveries and a more organic development of the project.

The sheer scale of the PCT is awe-inspiring, a 2,650-mile ribbon stretching from the Mexican border in Southern California to the Canadian border in Washington State. It traverses diverse ecosystems, from arid deserts and alpine peaks to lush forests and the rolling hills of Northern California. Each segment of the trail offers its own unique soundscape, a complex interplay of natural phenomena and the occasional human presence. For instance, the Mojave Desert, a starkly beautiful and often overlooked section of the trail, presented a different set of acoustic challenges and opportunities. "In the Mojave Desert, on the north side of the LA Aqueduct, I just sat down on the ground, pulled out my recorder, and started listening," Kelly recounts. "And it was in that moment that I became very aware of where I was and what I was doing. And honestly, I could not be happier in that moment."

This mindful engagement with his surroundings allowed Kelly to appreciate the profound significance of even the smallest sonic details. He draws a parallel between the immense scale of the trail and the intimate nature of these fleeting moments. "Comparing the scale of these things—like this massive trail, and then here’s like this little moment—and it’s just, for me, taking in kind of just the depth of those small moments all along the trail is something that’s been really rewarding for me." This profound appreciation for the present moment and the subtle beauty of the natural world is what Kelly aims to convey through his sound map.

The challenges of field recording in such a rugged environment are considerable. Weather, for one, can be a formidable adversary. Rain can saturate equipment, wind can create overwhelming noise pollution, and extreme temperatures can affect battery life and the performance of sensitive electronics. Beyond the environmental hurdles, the sheer physical demands of thru-hiking are immense. Carrying extra weight in the form of recording gear adds to the daily burden of navigating miles of challenging terrain. Kelly recounts a particularly poignant moment that illustrates the difficulty of balancing his passion with the practicalities of backcountry life: "It was beautifully calm, really nice day. And we all went to bed, and I woke up to the sound of a great horned owl calling across the lake. And so, the last thing I want to do is wake up and do something, you know? It’s hard enough to wake up to go to the bathroom, much less take your recording equipment, go hike, set up, and you know, do the whole recording process." This anecdote highlights the dedication and perseverance required to capture these precious sounds.

Furthermore, the act of recording itself can be intrusive. The presence of microphones and the subtle sounds of their operation could potentially alter the very environment Kelly sought to document. This necessitates a deep understanding of ecological sensitivity and a commitment to minimizing one’s impact. Kelly’s approach, characterized by patient observation and deliberate placement of his equipment, reflects this awareness.

The resulting sound map is not merely a collection of ambient noises; it is a curated experience designed to evoke a sense of presence and connection. By organizing his recordings geographically, Kelly allows listeners to virtually traverse the PCT, experiencing the distinct sonic character of different sections. One might find themselves immersed in the gentle lapping of water against a lakeshore, the rustling of aspen leaves in a high mountain meadow, or the distant howl of coyotes under a vast desert sky. The inclusion of human voices, as Kelly mentions, adds another layer, reminding us that the PCT is also a space of shared experience and community.

Kelly’s hope is that his sound map will serve as a gateway to a more profound engagement with nature, particularly for those who may not have the opportunity to hike the PCT themselves. "I hope that when someone sets out to interact with the sound map that I’ve put out there, that they’re able to get just a little piece of what I was able to experience out there," he states. This is not just about passive listening; it’s about encouraging a shift in perception. "And that is just the ability to slow down and just really experience nature along the Pacific Crest Trail in this kind of embodied sort of way." In an era dominated by fast-paced digital consumption and visual overload, Kelly’s project offers a refreshing invitation to pause, to listen, and to connect with the world through the often-overlooked medium of sound. It is a testament to the power of art to transform our understanding of familiar landscapes and to foster a deeper appreciation for the intricate and beautiful symphony of the natural world. The PCT sound map is more than just a collection of audio files; it’s an invitation to experience the trail with new ears, to discover the hidden melodies and rhythms that define one of America’s most iconic wilderness pathways.