Zero at Snoqualmie Pass (mile 2393), no hiking
I am posted up at one of the four Starbucks in Snoqualmie trying to decide if it would look weird to put in earplugs. Or, if all Starbucks baristas are as desensitized as the ones I’ve come across in Los Angeles, in which case me sitting quietly with earplugs in is the least of their worries. I decide upon the later and am shortly entombed in blissful silence as I poke away at my phone. Proofreading and scheduling blog posts, attempting to write engaging captions for Instagram, and deciding if I have time to start on the article I’ve promised the bag manufacturer Osprey for their blog. Because I chose to give myself yesterday completely off, I only have a handful of hours until Starman arrives from Portland and we head back to the trail. I decide to push out the Osprey article to another day.
This all leads me to offer some unsolicited advice to aspiring thru hikers: commit to less.
Commit to less documentation, fewer blog posts, Instagram stories, fewer off trail obligations, events and timelines. Doing so will allow you to commit more fully to the trail.
One thing I failed to consider when planning to write daily blog posts from the trail, is that every minute spent documenting your hike is one you could spend witnessing your experiences. While every plan you make to attend an event or meet with family off trail will put you on a deadline that might force you to sacrifice miles or on trail happiness to accommodate.
It’s a tough balancing act. On the one hand I think in the coming years I will look back on these images and the stories I’ve written in my blog and be happy they are there. Memory is more fleeting than we know, and I have never possessed the hubris to believe mine is anything but subject. On the other hand, I find myself drifting from situations, pulling back from the present moment, wondering if what I’m experiencing will make a good story for the blog. And of course, seeing friends and family is important. Next week one of Starman’s best friends will get married and I wouldn’t want to miss that. I may only get one chance to hike the PCT, but I’ll only get one chance to attend this wedding. This trail, these people, they’re impermanent. Every choice is also a sacrifice. But if you can, if you at all can, choose to do this trail with as much intention as you can muster.
As challenging as it sounds for you to have kept up on your blog, I just want you to know it wasn’t time wasted. You have related some honest, deep thoughts, which I have captured in my journal to reflect upon as I prepare for my own thru hike in the future. So you have helped me. Thank you for your commitment to write, even though it made for an extra challenge.
Every year I choose a PCT blog to follow, pretty much at random. I have really enjoyed your insights.
This post touches on the little voice in my head that says “shouldn’t she be experiencing this adventure instead of spending so much time poking at her little screen?”. Its like people who have their cameras out all the time taking movies instead of being In The Moment. What a balancing act! Then I feel guilty because I enjoy your posts so much.
Thank you for poking at your screen so much!
I’m sure the balancing act would be challenging, especially on such a long hike. Easy to “turn off” for one week….not quite so easy for month on end!
I would REALLY love to see a “what’s in my bag” post where you go through your gear. Including stuff you have loved and stuff you have hated. Clearly you guys have managed to do this trail (knock wood) with no real injuries and your gear seems to be serving you both well. What are you carrying?
Having choices, second guessing, and wishing to be in two places at once is a struggle for me too,. Your reflections are an art to experience everything more deeply. Thank you, thank you for sharing. And when you read it all years later it will be like opening a jar of wild strawberriy jam, picked on a summer day. The blogging is like the mechanics of canning, to preserve and share.
When I started my AT thru-hike last year I planned to post daily to my blog. I quickly realized that spending time with other hikers and resting were more valuable pursuits in my limited downtime. I then elected to post when I finished and returned home. Nearly a year later, I’m still writing.
I appreciate being able to read about your hike in near-real-time, and admire that you have been able to stick with your posts throughout the hike. Moreover, I enjoy reading the work of someone who understands the value of crafting to words into something that is engaging, insightful and inspiring. Thank you.