Evolution of an Artist: Day 7- Miles 482.6 to 494.2

Vacation vs. Challenge

This morning I woke up thinking about a comment one of my friends wrote on my Facebook posting of this outing. "Nice vacation!", he wrote.
Few people I know are willing to spend their treasured vacations this way. Spending nights in frigid temperatures covered by a thin piece of fabric, daring to expose themselves to potentially dangerous animals and weather, climbing steep and hot mountains and walking endless valleys and roadsides with a 30+lb bag on their back. I know I am not one of them.

A vacation to me means a wine tasting tour of the Italian country side, sprinkled with museum visits and filled with delicious home made food that come from the old kitchen of a spacious villa. Or a stay in a retreated and pristine ocean front hut, with everything inclusive: fresh, colorful food, invigorating massages and engaging entertainment. A place where I can walk barefoot on soft, white sand any time of day or night and be blanketed by warm breezes while wearing nothing but my skin. That's my concept of a vacation.

Although hikers have to take time off work to do what they love, I can assure you that hiking long distance is not a vacation. It is a challenge.
A hiker who steps into mile 1 thinking "this will be a great vacation!" will fail. Vacations don't often require mental preparation (unless you are spending it with a certain type of in-laws), physical endurance or emotional fortitude. In fact, vacations invite us to be completely care free, let go of worries and just "be happy". Most often, if a plan changes during a vacation, the person becomes upset or discouraged because of it. Things have been planned, paid for and are relied upon.
With a challenge, a sudden change of plans becomes another obstacle to tackle, to test your attitude, reaction and thought process. It is almost a welcome element of the whole ordeal, one that will make you smile and proud of having surpassed down the road, not angry. There are big differences in the attitudes we have when we vacation vs. the attitude we have when we take on a challenge.

So, to all the thru and section hikers out there: I am in awe and most impressed by the way you choose to live your vacations and your days. I know that even though you are not being paid to hike, you will encounter problems and attitudes that will make you grow like no job on earth will. I know you will be scared, lonely, shocked, disappointed, tired, cold, wet, bugged, bitten, dirty, smelly, looked down upon, and misunderstood by most people outside of the hiking community during your challenge.
Your challenge maybe 1 night or six moths long. It maybe 15 or 2500 miles. It does not matter. Keep pushing yourself outside of your comfort zone. Walk the extra mile, tackle the new knot, try the new recipe, keep doing what makes sense to you.
If your challenge is considered a vacation by some, invite them to spend a night or two in your world. I am sure that their concept of "vacation" and "challenge" will be promptly rectified.

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Pitched in the middle of the trail, in the dark.

Today I awoke at 7:30am. I started walking by 8:45 am after breaking camp. I walked all day, becoming increasingly aware of the changes in animal scat and paw prints as I went up in elevation.

While preparing for this hike, I inquired about bear spray at the local Wal-Mart. They were out because it is a seasonal item, so I got a small can of Maze instead. Judging by the paw prints on the path, I don't think the bears got the memo from Walmart.

After encountering too many non-puppy paws on the trail, no image of a handsome man could make me smile. There were no beautiful stallions, camels or cool and rugged Jeep Commandos in my thoughts; only images of being ripped to shreds by the long claws I saw encrusted in the dirt before me. My response was to develop a mantra that I chanted all day: "Mile 494 and my baby on Sunday"; specially as my fearful mind played tricks on me and tried to distract me and weaken my resolve. I was in "Dojo mode" now, with a minimum amount of daily miles required in order to reach my goal on time. There was no one around and I was as completely alone as I wanted to be. I had gotten myself where I was on my own and had to get myself out of there the same way.

"Mile 494 and my baby on Sunday"...double inhale, single exhale, single inhale, double exhale. "Mile 494 and my baby on Sunday"... Feel the sweat that becomes cold water on your skin as the mountain air touches it. "Mile 494 and my baby on Sunday"... stab the earth with your poles and hold on as the rest of your body catches on. "Mile 494 and my baby on Sunday"... plant your feet securely on the ground, feel your quads and glutes propelling you forward. "Mile 494 and my baby on Sunday"... keep going. Repeat.

That was my day; even after a short, cold lunch break and until the sunset forced me to pitch camp in the middle of bear and cougar country. I was about 1000 feet above the highest I had camped thus far. I felt very scared and missed my Florida hiking buddies a great deal. I wanted to hear their soft voices murmur around me, see their faces and feel safe with them near me.

After reconstituting a quick supper, it was time for bed. Although there were no bear canisters or food hanging requirements in this section, I felt uneasy with my food near me. It was windy and cold but I skipped wearing chap stick. I placed all food and anything with an odor in my sealed bag about 200 yards away from my tarp, with Booboo's bear bell and my pee rag hanging above it. I was scared. I laid rigidly in my sleeping bag, holding Booboo tightly and waiting for a sound, a thud, a grunt.

Eventually exhaustion took over and I slept until morning came.

My camping spot for the night at mile 494.2

Photos of day 7

Trail police alert! My pitch from the previous night. Trapezoid pyramid tarp without front porch, open front.

Clean water source, one of two for the day.

I moved forward on my walk knowing that Terri Anderson had gotten the Ok from the ranger to proceed thru this terrain recuperating from a fire. They had done work on this section recently, and it was ready. I must have been on e of the first hikers of the season to traverse it.

Puppy pads show signs of wear. Although the sun was intense, the air was cool and windy so he didn't get to ride on my shoulders. He walked with his booties on.