HIKE YOUR OWN HIKE
As mentioned earlier, this is a magnificent community, these long-distance, thru-hikers. They understand, as no one else truly can, that it takes such a community for individuals to complete the Herculean task of hiking 2,650 miles. The support never seems to end, from the organizers of the Trail hike, to the Trail Angels along the way, who provide treats and meal and water and shelter along the way, to the hikers themselves, who give aid when needed, or simply give a much-needed hug and a word of encouragement.
With all that in mind, one of the most often mentioned words of advice, for hikers, is to hike your own hike. The Trail is, pure and simple, a marathon, requiring six months of pushing through pain, pushing through doubts, and finding reserves of strength most hikers were unaware that they possessed. If a hiker does not listen to their own body along the way, the goal will never be reached. It is only natural to desire to be a pack animal as you trek through the wilderness. Man finds comfort in man, a simple truth. There is laughter in groups, there is safety in numbers, and the tendency, far too often, is for hikers to try and keep up with a group (known as a tramily), and that tendency works against the vital truth that you must hike at your own pace, listen to your body, and adjust your pace accordingly.
We saw an example of this truth play out in the last twenty-four hours. A man and woman came into camp, strangers until they started the trail twenty miles previously, and they had chosen to hike with one another on that first leg of the journey. But once they reached Lake Morena, the woman realized that she needed solitude for a while, told the man that, and visibly hurt his feelings.
It is a fascinating drama playing out daily, the desire to be part of an extremely supportive community, and yet the understanding that if you do not put your physical and psychological needs first, you will not succeed.
You better believe I see a correlation with everyday life for everyday people.
One of the first things I learned sixteen years ago, coming out of rehabilitation for alcoholism, was that I needed to listen to my needs, pay attention to my body and my mind, and put those needs first, because if I did not learn to love myself first, and to take care of myself first, I would not be able to love others and help them when they needed me.
It is a hard lesson to learn. It is only natural for most people to feel they are being selfish with that philosophy, and yet to fully achieve peace of mind and tranquility in life, I truly believe it is crucial that we all be a little bit selfish.
Hike your own hike in life.
Sermon over!
CHATTING WITH OUR NEW BEST FRIENDS
It feels that way, in this community, with these people, like each day you meet someone, get to talking, and this comfortable mood settles in, like you’ve known them all your life.
Four women, we met them back in Campo maybe three days ago, one of them asked us to carry some items to Lake Morena for her, save her hefting unnecessary weight. Anyway, they came marching up to the bus today, around eleven a.m., and ended up staying and talking to us for about three hours. Two were from the Chicago area, sisters, 44 and 50, and two from California, ages 25 and 44, and we talked about former jobs and reasons for taking on this challenge. We talked about mental health, divorces, hiking gear, trail conditions, children, you know, things old friends talk about, and it wasn’t awkward at all, felt very natural, in fact.
And isn’t that remarkable?
Two more stopped today. I was sitting at the picnic table, reading emails, when I hear “Bill!” yelled out. Incoming, a woman and young man, maybe 45 and 25, respectively, saw me on YouTube, saw Puddle Walker, just needed to stop by and get to know me and Bev. Again, comfortable discussion between strangers, no politics, no religion, nothing but pleasant conversation between instant friends.
A young woman, working for the Pacific Crest Trail Association, at the terminus today when we dropped by. Morgan was her name, couldn’t have been more than 23, 24 maybe, she and I struck up a conversation about hiking and life, while Bev picked the brain of a local about trail conditions.
Morgan works for the PCTA during the hiking season, February to August, and then she takes time off to travel around the States, living out of her car. She told me it just never made sense to her, working until retirement age, and then too old to do many of the things you want to do when you are younger. Said she didn’t need possessions, or at least not many, and she was perfectly happy living out of her car. I found her to be a breath of fresh air, completely engaging, and I tried to imagine me doing that at her age, if I had had the opportunity, if my dad had not died, leaving me to support the family, if I, if I, if I . . . it’s not like it was a foreign concept back in the early 70’s. Many people were climbing into VW vans and touring the country, working part-time, living off the land, but the truth is that just wasn’t me back then. I had to do some learning about life before I was confident enough to say “to hell with it” and take the path less taken. I had to find out who I was . . . who I am . . . and yes, I had to do some suffering, experience some real hurt, to fully appreciate the good life I had . . . I have.
I think I’m ready!
DISTORTED PERSPECTIVES/PROPORTIONS
Where I’m from, Olympia, the elevation is 95-feet. It has two mountain ranges in the near distance, the Cascades to the east, the Olympics to the west, towering mounds of snow to remind one and all that this is rugged, unforgiving country. But the thing is, once again, our home was 95-feet above sea level, so not what you would call mountainous terrain.
We are currently in what is commonly referred to as California desert country, Campo, California, and just to support that notion, you can find sagebrush and cacti without even trying, it being so plentiful.
And we are at 3,000 feet of elevation!
Bev will be starting her hike, in the desert, at an elevation which is roughly the same as our worst mountain pass in Washington State, namely Snoqualmie Pass. The first significant town she will come to will be Mt. Laguna, which sits at 6,000 feet, higher than Paradise Tourist Center on Mt. Rainier, which annually receives about fifty feet of snow.
It’s just weird to think we are that high. We are surrounded by evidence which screams desert, but we are approaching the nose-bleed level of altitude.
When you think of desert, what do you think about? I grew up thinking desert was Lawrence of Arabia desert, miles upon miles of sand, flat, barren earth, uninhabitable, but that will rarely be the case during this desert section of the Pacific Crest Trail, which is 700-miles in length.
I see new wonders daily. My perspectives and my assumptions are tested daily. What I once thought was true no longer seems to be the case, and that is frightening and yet thrilling.
She is doing amazingly well, Peggy. Of course, we will see how she does when she has to cross those 10,000 foot passes, but she has time to get acclimated to those extreme heights. Right now, though, she is keeping up with her 32-year old son.
We have lived in a low elevation for most of our lives. When going to higher elevations, it is an adjustment when doing hiking. Breathing becomes more labored. How is Bev adjusting to the change in elevation?
Completely abnormal, Marty, but I think they are grateful that it isn’t quite as hot as it might be this time of year…and they are loving the green.
What do the locals say about your weather? Is it typical or unusual? Enjoying your blog posts.