Zero in Cascade Locks (mile 2246), no hiking.
I’m sitting on a bench at the Bonneville Dam outside Cascade Locks, Oregon. Somewhere Starman and his brother Kyle are deeply engrossed in a diagram about the construction of the dam—their inherent engineerness means they can find turbines and drive shafts infinitely more engaging than I ever could. In fact, if it were up to Starman we’d probably spend the entire day wandering around the dam and adjacent fish ladders. So I elect to find a quiet place out of the way and catch up on phone errands.
In between drafting emails a woman approaches me to ask if I am a PCT hiker. I smile and say I am. From here the conversation will go one of two ways, the first and most common will be that she’ll ask if I started at Mexico or Canada, if I’m hiking alone, and how many days I’ve been on the trail, after I’ve answered these questions I’ll proffer a quick narrative about an especially beautiful part of the trail after which she’ll smile, wish me good luck, and go on her way. However, this particular stranger elects to take the discussion less traveled and upon learning that I am in fact one of those infamous thru hikers, she replies “wow, but you’re so clean!” This line of discussion is a little more confusing for me, because I’m never really sure what to say other than “yep!”
Though it occurs to me now that perhaps I should have something a little more clever to say. Because the “you’re clean” comment is one I get with increasing frequency, and to which I can barely think of a reply more engaging than “well ya know it’s actually not that hard, most people just can’t be bothered.” Or if we’re in town perhaps I might be tempted to spout a “yes, well we have access to showers and laundry just like you do.” Though of course I say neither because I don’t need to be a jerk to folks who are just curious and can’t possibly know how often I’m asked the same questions. And beyond that, as I’ve already discussed, I’m a bit of a clean freak when compared to my fellow hikers. What I think people fail to realize is just how little effort that actually requires.
On trail I spend only about 10 minutes each day wiping the dirt and sunscreen from my body. In town I will shower and do laundry exactly once each, sometimes even with soap! Compared to folks I’ve seen who roll into camp and directly into their sleeping bags, or else slide from town to town without so much as wiping the dirt lines from their necks, I suppose I’m infinitely more hygienic. But it also comes down to making your time on trail feel more livable, not simply something to be endured. By taking a little time each day and in towns, the trail becomes something sustainable, you’re not suffering through day to day, but instead developing habits that make the whole experience livable.
Sustainable and livable is a higher standard, not just expecting and accepting a suffer fest. Well done!
Creative problem solving is a great life skill too.
Enjoy being a celebrity. Very few can do what you’re doing. I remember sailboarders on the Columbia River. Spectacular setting for tiny humans.
This is something I’m definitely going to emulate when I do my hike (hopefully 2020 or 2021). Do you use baby wipes? Just water?
I don’t use baby wipes, though lots of folks do. However baby wipes are heavy, and most of them have a smell I don’t like, and I see them left around a lot by other hikers so that has soured my view of them somewhat. I have a small PackTowel (the smallest one they sell I think) and I just use that and some water each night.