Monday, October 26, 2009
Final Reflections
A month has now passed since I got home, and I’m happy to report that returning to my “other” life has been much easier than anticipated. I’ve had a lot of time to reconnect with my wife and to think, both of which have been wonderful. Many people have inquired about my hike, and so this post will serve to respond to some of the deeper questions that people have asked.
What did you learn?
The PCT taught me that I was largely a risk-adverse person. I disguised my fear of risk with body art, rock climbing, and other activities typically associated with people who live in more risky ways. However, I worked diligently to manage the risk out of activities, relationships, and every so-called “adventure” I undertook. My wife (bless her!) brought this to my attention early in my hike when she told me “Honey, you tend to want all of the adventure with none of the risk.” Wow. That one smarted – but started me on a better path. In the process of hiking 2658 miles I learned to embrace the risk with the adventure rather than fleeing risk, and my PCT experience was much richer as a result.
I also learned the value of flexibility. One again I didn’t realize that I was an inflexible person until the myriad of uncontrollable circumstances that go hand-in-hand with a PCT thru-hike attempt forced me to either adapt or go crazy. I discovered that being a flexible person who is able to adapt to changing circumstances makes the whole experience much more enjoyable. In returning home I have found that little things such as running a few minutes late bother me much less than they would have before my hike. I have also found that I can peacefully coexist with unknowns rather than diligently seeking to stamp out every last variable.
What do you miss?
Surprisingly, I miss the trail much less than I anticipated. To be perfectly honest I was pretty tired of hiking by the time I reached Canada. However, I do strongly miss the community of thru-hikers. “Community” is a buzz word we throw around in our churches and board rooms, yet we live in fenced-off yards, we drive 20 minutes to see a friend across town while not knowing our neighbors, and we teach our kids about “stranger danger.” I don’t pretend to have an answer to this, but I can testify that the thru-hiking community has it figured out. Thru-hikers treat each other amazingly well regardless of race, gender, age, or socioeconomic status. I constantly felt valued, accepted, and cared for by people who I sometimes hardly knew. I believe that when God created humanity he designed us to live in community, and I think that a group of dirty thru-hikers all marching north is the closest thing I’ve ever experienced to what I imagine God’s concept of community to be.
In addition, I miss the simplicity of life of the trail. Thru-hiking was not easy by any stretch of the imagination, but it was simple. For five months every physical thing I was responsible for was on my back, and it was very freeing to not be concerned about anything I couldn’t see. Life was difficult, but each day I awoke knowing that my task for the day – as was my task yesterday and will be my task tomorrow – was only to get as close to Canada as possible. Returning to a life in the city with competing priorities, financial considerations, and property to care for has taken some getting used to.
What’s next?
In short, I don’t know. I do know that I focused way too much on work on the last few years, and while I do need employment and am looking forward to working again I definitely do not want to be consumed by a job. As my friend Cuidado stated, “Life can’t just be about work anymore. If it is, I’ll die.”
In terms of employment, I’m trying to balance my desire for my dream job with the reality of a tough job market. I will likely either pursue an independent business consulting practice focused on utilizing my gifts to serve clients or seek a full time position as a business analyst. I have been working on both, and my plan is to be flexible and see what happens in the next month.
In terms of life priorities, Amy and I are talking more about what it means for us to actively and intentionally seek and serve God as a couple and not just drift through life. I’m excited about this, but it’s scary at the same time.
Thank you once again to everyone who supported me and cheered for me on this hike. Before I started I said that if I took six months off and had a grand ol’ life adventure but didn’t return any different then the whole experience would be a bit of a waste. I do know that I have returned different, and your support has been a huge part of that.
Disco
What did you learn?
The PCT taught me that I was largely a risk-adverse person. I disguised my fear of risk with body art, rock climbing, and other activities typically associated with people who live in more risky ways. However, I worked diligently to manage the risk out of activities, relationships, and every so-called “adventure” I undertook. My wife (bless her!) brought this to my attention early in my hike when she told me “Honey, you tend to want all of the adventure with none of the risk.” Wow. That one smarted – but started me on a better path. In the process of hiking 2658 miles I learned to embrace the risk with the adventure rather than fleeing risk, and my PCT experience was much richer as a result.
I also learned the value of flexibility. One again I didn’t realize that I was an inflexible person until the myriad of uncontrollable circumstances that go hand-in-hand with a PCT thru-hike attempt forced me to either adapt or go crazy. I discovered that being a flexible person who is able to adapt to changing circumstances makes the whole experience much more enjoyable. In returning home I have found that little things such as running a few minutes late bother me much less than they would have before my hike. I have also found that I can peacefully coexist with unknowns rather than diligently seeking to stamp out every last variable.
What do you miss?
Surprisingly, I miss the trail much less than I anticipated. To be perfectly honest I was pretty tired of hiking by the time I reached Canada. However, I do strongly miss the community of thru-hikers. “Community” is a buzz word we throw around in our churches and board rooms, yet we live in fenced-off yards, we drive 20 minutes to see a friend across town while not knowing our neighbors, and we teach our kids about “stranger danger.” I don’t pretend to have an answer to this, but I can testify that the thru-hiking community has it figured out. Thru-hikers treat each other amazingly well regardless of race, gender, age, or socioeconomic status. I constantly felt valued, accepted, and cared for by people who I sometimes hardly knew. I believe that when God created humanity he designed us to live in community, and I think that a group of dirty thru-hikers all marching north is the closest thing I’ve ever experienced to what I imagine God’s concept of community to be.
In addition, I miss the simplicity of life of the trail. Thru-hiking was not easy by any stretch of the imagination, but it was simple. For five months every physical thing I was responsible for was on my back, and it was very freeing to not be concerned about anything I couldn’t see. Life was difficult, but each day I awoke knowing that my task for the day – as was my task yesterday and will be my task tomorrow – was only to get as close to Canada as possible. Returning to a life in the city with competing priorities, financial considerations, and property to care for has taken some getting used to.
What’s next?
In short, I don’t know. I do know that I focused way too much on work on the last few years, and while I do need employment and am looking forward to working again I definitely do not want to be consumed by a job. As my friend Cuidado stated, “Life can’t just be about work anymore. If it is, I’ll die.”
In terms of employment, I’m trying to balance my desire for my dream job with the reality of a tough job market. I will likely either pursue an independent business consulting practice focused on utilizing my gifts to serve clients or seek a full time position as a business analyst. I have been working on both, and my plan is to be flexible and see what happens in the next month.
In terms of life priorities, Amy and I are talking more about what it means for us to actively and intentionally seek and serve God as a couple and not just drift through life. I’m excited about this, but it’s scary at the same time.
Thank you once again to everyone who supported me and cheered for me on this hike. Before I started I said that if I took six months off and had a grand ol’ life adventure but didn’t return any different then the whole experience would be a bit of a waste. I do know that I have returned different, and your support has been a huge part of that.
Disco
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Canada at last!
Greetings supportive blog readers!
I'm happy to announce that after a full five months of hiking, I finally arrived at the Canadian border on Saturday morning!
First things first: to my former coworkers at aCoupleofGurus.com who have bets going as to how many pairs of shoes I would go through on my hike, the final count is six. In case anyone is curious how my other gear held up, I have holes in my sixth pair of shoes and my tenth pair of socks. My gaiters also have holes. My pack has been repaired in five different places with duct tape, safety pins, dental floss, and two different colors of thread. My sleeping bag smells like a locker room. The holes in my pant legs got so bad that I finally just zipped them off and got rid of them. One of the twist-locks on my trekking poles is failing and needs to be tightened every 15 or 20 minutes. Mice have chewed seven different holes in my food bag, as well as chewing up the handles on my trekking poles. Several seams in my poncho-tarp shelter are coming undone. My sunglasses are scratched to the point where visibility is impaired, and I've never owned a piece of clothing as stained as my hiking shirt (my wife has made a polite but strong request that this shirt be thrown away).
Currently I'm at the home of my sister Hannah and her husband Matt in Tacoma, Washington. I'm drinking my beloved decaf coffee and wearing cotton clothing that I borrowed from Matt. My body continues to insist that I wake up at 5:30 am like I did on the trail, so I'm pretty tired in addition to being very sore. However, I'm happy! I hiked every single step in a continuous footpath all the way from the Mexican border to the Canadian border without taking any shortcuts. The majority of hikers who attempt this end up quitting for one reason or another, and not many who make it to the Canadian border do so without skipping any sections. As such, I'm extremely proud to be among the few 2009 hikers who can claim a literal continuous footpath.
Tomorrow I fly back to Minneapolis to join my wife in celebrating our second anniversary. Once I get settled in a bit I'll post more thoughts/feelings/reflections/pictures.
Thanks for cheering me on through this adventure!
Joel
Friday, September 18, 2009
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
The Victory Lap
Greetings persevering blog readers!
I am currently taking my final day off in the tiny town of Stehekin, just 89 miles south of the northern terminus of the PCT. Hikers call this last stretch "the victory lap." We're not quite finished yet, but there is definitely a spirit of celebration among the few remaining hikers who have made it this far.
The past few weeks have been wonderful. My good friend Cuidado caught up to me and we've had beautiful weather throughout a section known for its rain. The rugged scenery of the North Cascades has been spectacular! We've seen bear, elk, deer, pika, and marmots. We've watched amazing sunrises and sunsets over alpine lakes, and eaten our fill of the wild blueberries and huckleberries that cover entire hillsides. We've scrambled through 20 miles of damaged trail full of washed-out bridges and downed trees, and stood in awe as we watched dense fog roll through mountain valleys hundreds of feet below us.
It's hard to believe that I'm so close to done. Unless something very unexpected happens, Cuidado and I will be at the Canadian border on the 19th, to Manning Park in British Columbia on the 20th, and I'll be home on the 22nd - just one week from today. My emotions are all confused inside me: never have I been so excited and so sad at the same time. I can't wait to get home, start living with my wife again, and reconnect with people in the Minneapolis area. On the other hand, I'm mourning the end of this crazy, brutal, spectacular adventure. It will certainly be a challenge to learn how to maintain a life of adventure while building a career and paying a mortgage.
By the time I post again I will have completed my hike and started a new chapter in living a life of adventure with my wife. Stay tuned for my post-hike thoughts and reflections as well as pictures from the final few weeks. Thanks again for all your support over the past few months!
Joel
I am currently taking my final day off in the tiny town of Stehekin, just 89 miles south of the northern terminus of the PCT. Hikers call this last stretch "the victory lap." We're not quite finished yet, but there is definitely a spirit of celebration among the few remaining hikers who have made it this far.
The past few weeks have been wonderful. My good friend Cuidado caught up to me and we've had beautiful weather throughout a section known for its rain. The rugged scenery of the North Cascades has been spectacular! We've seen bear, elk, deer, pika, and marmots. We've watched amazing sunrises and sunsets over alpine lakes, and eaten our fill of the wild blueberries and huckleberries that cover entire hillsides. We've scrambled through 20 miles of damaged trail full of washed-out bridges and downed trees, and stood in awe as we watched dense fog roll through mountain valleys hundreds of feet below us.
It's hard to believe that I'm so close to done. Unless something very unexpected happens, Cuidado and I will be at the Canadian border on the 19th, to Manning Park in British Columbia on the 20th, and I'll be home on the 22nd - just one week from today. My emotions are all confused inside me: never have I been so excited and so sad at the same time. I can't wait to get home, start living with my wife again, and reconnect with people in the Minneapolis area. On the other hand, I'm mourning the end of this crazy, brutal, spectacular adventure. It will certainly be a challenge to learn how to maintain a life of adventure while building a career and paying a mortgage.
By the time I post again I will have completed my hike and started a new chapter in living a life of adventure with my wife. Stay tuned for my post-hike thoughts and reflections as well as pictures from the final few weeks. Thanks again for all your support over the past few months!
Joel
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