Category Archives: babble

Tomorrow it is

It is hard to go on living without some hope of encountering the extraordinary.

Harold Bloom

Tomorrow I start my drive south to the border. All the work, the planning, the job-quitting, the apartment-vacating/moving, the stress and research, the car rentals and motels and saving money that could have been used in a myriad of ways. All these things have boiled down to one thing, and I start the final move in that direction at around noon tomorrow. I am thankful for this last week here in Oregon to figure out all that I need to do. I really needed to get here, finish up my resupply and then have nothing to do. I needed the quiet, the passive few days to rest for a minute. The quiet before the storm … so to speak.

Here is what my California hybrid-resupply looks like. The bucket is my bounce bucket and the first time I will see it is at Kennedy Meadows.. The box below it is my bear vault and food for ten days. It also has a few other things and the bucket has some gear swaps I need to make. The others are for other places like old station and VVR where I need to mail packages.

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Here is my pack, fully loaded with food. It feels heavy even though I know that I have made every effort to lighten it up.

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Nothing left to do but make my way to the border and start, one more sleep.

So … I am going to have a disco ball on my hike

Yes, a disco ball.

Not a big one obviously, but a little one for my tent, it was given as a parting gift from friends at my going away, along with various other small sized Tabasco products and all the fire starting essentials one could ever need, a knife, some hot and sour soup, a light, a Venice button, a little squirt gun (for bears of course) etc.

Yes, I do realize that this means my trail name is going to be ‘Disco’, oh well, it has to come as a memento of what I left.

I managed to pack out the whole bar for my going away and it was awesome to see everyone. I took a few more shots than I meant to take but I had Saturday to do my much needed recovery. And it was  a recovery day, I have not hurt that much after a night out in a long time. But it was worth it, a day of pain, to say goodbye to everyone and I am very thankful of my friends here, Venice has treated me so well I don’t even know where to begin saying my thanks.

Today is it, I am getting coffee and then I need to go pick up the rental and start heading North for setting up resupply and visit with Family for a couple days before I go.

On some level with this you think “What have I done?!?!” and you recoil. It is a feeling before a move, the feeling in your gut on the last day of high school, the last day of a great job, the feeling of standing in an empty apartment you lived in for years, now devoid of you. It is the feeling of a changing life, of crossing a bridge with no way back and not know what is on the other side. It is called butterflies in the stomach, queasiness, anxiety and fear.

Bravery is continuing on in sprite of fear, not the absence of fear. On that measure I am either brave or reckless, I am not sure which, but I am at least on a path.

Well, me and my little disco ball.

Why.

I get asked this a lot and even typed up a long post here explaining that I have a great life and love where I am, a job and skillset some people would kill for. I have everything I could ask for. Being happy is one thing but I want to be ‘more’ if that makes any sense. It isn’t greed for ‘more’ it is more like wanting more air, I need to breathe. The post was actually really good but I deleted it because I didn’t feel like it was along the tone I want this story — the story of my PCT trip and beyond — to carry.

I don’t want to be looking back, not at the start of moving forward.

While researching on a possible trip down the Mississippi river on a stand up paddleboard (need to spend my time before I am hiking somehow) I ran across this dude and he didn’t answer the ‘why’ question directly but did so indirectly.  Check him out and listen to what he is saying.