Nick Gagnon Shatters Triple Crown Record, Completing 7,525 Miles in Under 232 Days

Published April 13, 2026 03:35 PM

In a feat of endurance that redefines human limits, hiker Nick Gagnon, known on the trail as "Chezwick," has achieved an unprecedented accomplishment by completing the Triple Crown of thru-hiking – the Pacific Crest Trail (PCT), Continental Divide Trail (CDT), and Appalachian Trail (AT) – in a single, continuous push. His record-breaking journey spanned an astonishing 7,525 miles and was concluded in an elapsed time of 231 days, 7 hours, and 33 minutes. This remarkable achievement not only establishes a new Fastest Known Time (FKT) for the Triple Crown but also eclipses the previous record by a significant margin.

For perspective, a daily mile-long walk with a nine-pound Schnauzer, repeated twice a day, would require ten years and four months to cover the distance Gagnon conquered in less than eight months. His average daily mileage hovered around an astounding 32.6 miles, a pace that most hikers would consider a strenuous single-day effort, let alone maintaining it for 33 consecutive weeks. This relentless dedication to covering ground daily underscores the extraordinary physical and mental fortitude required for such an endeavor.

"It’s all mental," Gagnon shared, reflecting on the immense challenge. "How long can you eat cold Ramen noodles and deal with being cold, wet, and tired without quitting? I guess I’m lucky that I can do that for a long time." This profound statement highlights the psychological battle inherent in ultra-endurance pursuits, where the ability to persevere through discomfort and adversity is paramount. The sheer willpower to overcome the cumulative toll of sleep deprivation, physical pain, and environmental hardships is a testament to Gagnon’s unique mental resilience.

Gagnon’s record-shattering time represents a significant leap forward in the history of long-distance thru-hiking. He bested the previous Triple Crown FKT, set in 2023 by Billy "Wahoo" Meredith, by three full days. The intensity of this competition among elite thru-hikers continues to push the boundaries of what is considered possible, with each record falling inspiring a new generation of adventurers to test their own mettle against the trails.

The physical toll of such an undertaking is immense, as evidenced by Gagnon’s admission, "My feet are still pretty messed up." He went through an astonishing 14 pairs of hiking shoes during his journey, a stark indicator of the relentless abrasion and stress placed upon his feet. Each pair represents hundreds of miles of wear and tear, a tangible symbol of the constant motion and impact of his record attempt.

Gagnon, a 40-year-old resident of rural New Hampshire, embarked on his ambitious quest on May 3, 2025, beginning at the U.S.-Mexico border with the PCT. His initial hope was for a timely snowmelt in the Sierra Nevada to facilitate his passage. While he made swift progress through the desert, arriving ahead of schedule, the high mountains presented immediate challenges. The spring thaw resulted in muddy trails and dangerously high river crossings. "I got swept downriver one time and that freaked me out," he recounted, a harrowing experience that momentarily tested his resolve.

However, this early ascent into the Sierras also proved fortuitous, allowing Gagnon to bypass the wildfire season that often plagues the region. He moved through Oregon and Washington with impressive speed, completing the PCT in a remarkable 77 days. From the northern terminus of the PCT, he hitchhiked to Wenatchee, Washington, then took an Amtrak train to Glacier National Park, Montana, to begin the CDT just two days after finishing his first trail.

The first half of the CDT saw Gagnon maintaining his blistering pace. However, the rugged terrain of Colorado’s Front Range and San Juan Mountains, coupled with a deliberate decision to bypass the popular Creede Cutoff, slowed his progress. He navigated lightning storms in New Mexico, ultimately completing the CDT in another demanding 77 days. This segment of his journey illustrates the strategic decisions and adaptations required to manage time and overcome natural obstacles on such varied and challenging trails.

Upon finishing the CDT, Gagnon traveled to El Paso, Texas, where a much-needed shower was followed by a series of flights to Bangor, Maine, the starting point of the Appalachian Trail. "Luckily I showered so I didn’t smell like a bag of smashed apples on the flight," he quipped, acknowledging the unusual circumstances of his transit. "I was getting some funny looks in the airport." This brief interlude highlights the stark contrast between his solitary, rugged trail existence and the conveniences of modern travel.

Starting the AT in early October, Gagnon immediately faced the looming threat of winter weather. "It was about 4 degrees on top of Katahdin," he reported, emphasizing the frigid conditions at the trail’s northern terminus. The final leg of his journey was a constant battle against the elements, enduring rainstorms and freezing temperatures in New England, followed by unseasonably warm conditions in the mid-Atlantic. A brief setback occurred in Harpers Ferry, West Virginia, where a scheduled section of the trail was occupied by a running race, forcing a minor logistical adjustment.

The most significant challenge on the AT arose in Tennessee, where an early snowstorm blanketed the Great Smoky Mountains. "My feet were messed up, I was really cold, and I was having to break trail," Gagnon described, the fatigue and difficulty palpable in his voice. "That’s when I was thinking I might not get this thing." This moment of doubt underscores the immense pressure and the ever-present possibility of failure that accompanies such ambitious FKT attempts.

Despite the grim prospect, Gagnon’s determination prevailed. On his final day, faced with a daunting 50.3 miles to the AT’s southern terminus in Georgia, he opted for a final, continuous push rather than breaking it into segments. He crossed the finish line on December 19, mere minutes before midnight, a testament to his unwavering commitment to the clock. "I couldn’t spend one more day on the trail," he stated, signaling the profound exhaustion and the burning desire to complete the quest.

Gagnon emphasized that even with his meticulous planning and relentless pace, a significant element of luck was involved in achieving his record. "You have a delayed flight, you can’t hitchhike back to the trail, there are all of these what-ifs," he explained, illustrating the precarious nature of FKT attempts where even minor unforeseen events can derail months of effort. "I’m hard on myself out there to keep myself on pace." This self-imposed discipline is crucial for maintaining the high level of focus required to execute such a demanding endeavor.

The philosophy behind Gagnon’s speed hiking is starkly different from the typical thru-hiking experience. While most thru-hikers embrace the opportunity to disconnect from daily comforts and immerse themselves in nature, Gagnon’s primary objective is to maximize efficiency and minimize time spent not moving forward. "There are no stops to marvel at a mountain vista, or trips into town for a burger and a bath, or long trailside chats with a friend," he clarified. His approach transforms the trail into a racecourse, where every decision is weighed against its temporal cost. "From the moment I started to the moment I finished, I was racing against the clock. Every single decision was based on time. How long can I talk to this other hiker? Do I have time to go into the convenience store?" This single-minded focus is precisely why such an extreme pace is not for everyone, as Gagnon himself acknowledges: "That’s why most people don’t want to hike this way."

Gagnon is no stranger to this demanding style of hiking. In 2022, he set a new record for the Great Western Loop, a formidable 6,800-mile circuit encompassing the PCT, CDT, and sections of the Pacific Northwest and Grand Enchantment trails, completing it in 200 days. This was his second attempt at that record, showcasing his persistent drive to excel in ultra-endurance challenges.

Despite his extreme trail pursuits, Gagnon’s life off the trail presents a fascinating contrast. He works as a bartender in New Hampshire and guides snowmobile tours in the winter. He also admits to being a half-pack-a-day smoker, a habit that might seem incongruous with his demanding physical endeavors. "I’m always striving to make my hikes perfect. They never will be," he muses, a statement that reflects a deep understanding of the inherent imperfections and the continuous pursuit of improvement.

Gagnon’s strategy for maintaining his astonishing pace centers on maximizing time on his feet and minimizing sleep. He typically sleeps only about five hours per night, rising by 5:30 AM. "I’m on the trail by 5:30 A.M. I’m finishing my day when the typical hiker has already pitched their tent and is rolling in their sleeping bag. You gotta be comfortable at night," he explains, highlighting the critical importance of efficient rest and recovery, even if it is minimal. He eats on the move, stopping for only a few minutes at a time to consume snacks. His minimalist approach to comfort extends to his gear, favoring an ultralight Montbell shell and foregoing a camping stove.

His sustenance on the trail is a pragmatic, calorie-focused regimen, often sourced from convenience stores. "I can complete a five-day resupply in a 7-Eleven in 15 minutes. Slim Jims. Twinkies. Total crappy processed food. I’m just going for calories," he states matter-of-factly. This approach prioritizes immediate energy needs over nutritional complexity, a common strategy among speed hikers focused on weight reduction and rapid resupply. Entertainment during these long hours is provided by audiobooks; during his Triple Crown journey, he listened to Anthony Bourdain’s "Kitchen Confidential" four times.

Ultimately, Gagnon’s success hinges on his ability to maintain unwavering mental focus and a profound appreciation for the logistics and challenges of covering vast distances. He doesn’t seek the typical recreational enjoyment of nature; instead, he finds fulfillment in the rigorous self-challenge. "Most people go out in nature to have fun. I’m like ‘nature is kicking my ass and every day feels miserable.’ But that’s the only way I know how to hike." This sentiment reveals a unique perspective, where discomfort and hardship are not obstacles to be avoided but rather integral components of his chosen method of experiencing the wilderness and pushing his own boundaries. His Triple Crown record is not just a physical achievement but a profound statement on the power of the human mind to overcome perceived limitations through sheer will and an unconventional approach to adventure.