[pct-l] Dream #1

[Stephen]

I posted this in response to someone's message concerning the what to tell the boss post.  
Don't know what this will generate, but thought I'd share it as it's own new thread...
Sometimes it's just good to think outloud...never know what someone might get out it.  
Everything, nothing, who knows, but there it is.

     "Threw it all away on dreams"???  Are you sure?  What is life without 
dreams?  And what would life be if we had no chance to fullfill them?  And 
how will we feel when we are no longer capable of answering those inner 
calls; to look back and think, I wish I had done this or that before I could 
not do it anymore?
Ionce had a dream.  I was young then, and in the boyscouts. The bigger kids 
were taking off on multi-day hikes with thier awsome Kelty packs and leather 
boots. I made a couple weekend training hikes and that was it.  When I was 
in my early teens, about twelve IIRC, I was finally able to make a multi-day 
hike up in the Lassen backcountry with my church youth group and the pastor. 
Of course they were recruiting souls but that made no nevermind to me, I was 
backpacking!  Eleven days of sun, paddling logs out onto the lava lakes, and 
oh the mosquitoes. I got my eye swollen shut from a nightime bite.  After 
that it was surfing and never returned to the backcountry until in my 
thirties.  And when I did I wanted to backpack, and solo.  I guess at some 
point I really made up my mind because a few months later I found myself 
wandering down one of the most mind altering experinces of my life.  Some 
folks call it Grand Gulch.  It still wasn't as popular, or populated as it 
has been in recent years.  I've never had a feeling like I did when I 
strolled down that canyon with my, yes, big awsome Kelty pack.  It was like 
walking in a dream come true; if not a bit eerie.  From there it was all 
downhill...  I met a beautiful lady on the way home at Escalante (strange 
that I went far out of my way to go there when I did), stopped by Whitney 
Portal for a little October stroll before last last leg home and was 
absolutley lost.  This gal made plans with me to take my first backpack in 
the Sierra out of Cedar Grove in Kings, and that was the end of me.  After 
that the Kelty was sold, then the Gregory was sold and I started 
experimenting with lighter and more comfortable gear.  I met people, got 
ideas, and just kept going back.  I quit my regular work, went back to 
school, worked part time, and hiked, climbed, hiked more, drove around a 
lot, and somehow ended up getting into photography.  I remember one day 
decending to the Middle Fork Kings over Granite pass, having walked there in 
two days from Onion Valley over Keasarge Pass, 9000 ft, to 5,500 and back to 
10,000 and down again to 5,500 in 2-1/2 days.  My Journal entry over looking 
the Middle Fork says it felt like walking in a dream.  I was absolutely all 
alone until I cam across a trail crew late in the day, some of whom I 
remained friends with for a few years.  It was not the aloneness, but the 
feeling I received just walking along in the mountains.  A feeling I have 
never felt in any other aspect of life.  Not even surfing into Honolulu on a 
big fast racing sailboat a couple years ago, which incidently was another 
dream come true that required sacrifice to fullfill, registered anything 
like I get when detached and out in the backcountry, away from electricity. 
I'm getting older, and the condition of my feet, hips and lower back are 
deteriorating.  I felt lethargic and depressed recently. I could not for the 
life of me figure it out.  Ihave fullfilled every dream I had once had and 
lack any goals or something to dream on, struggle for etc...  No drive if 
you will.  But one little aching dream has always lurked,and that my fine 
footed friends is called the PCT.  I've done re-supplies within the Sierra 
through Vermillion and the like, but have never cut loose, been dumped at a 
trail head to dissappear into the backcounrty only to emerge again at some 
far destination.  My travels arounds California have many times found me 
parked where the PCT crosses a road, whether in the San Gabrials, San 
Bernadinos, Trinities, Sierra, Cascades etc..., I've taken little walks down 
the trail and just felt it.  Can you feel it?  It's there.  It's all there 
just waiting.  Remembering all these things I tactifully mentioned to the 
fella I work for, with, and sometimes against, that "I wonder if I shouldn't 
try taking a long walk on the PCT?  I've always wanted to, maybe at least 
the JMT, or hike from the mid/Sierra to the Trinities, maybe Crater Lake or 
something like that?"  So far so good, and since he knows of a good friend 
of mine who lives outside Portland within easy drive of Mt Hood, I suggested 
wouldn't it be neat to call Brian Biller and and tell him I'll meet him at 
Timberline Lodge where we've been skiing together?  And that's how dreams 
start to materialize.  Years ago when I started all this fool travelling and 
quit my regular job it was this friend with whom I rented a room, and 
thereby lowering my cost of living dramatically, this boss who I worked for 
part time when I was in town, and now may very well turn out to be the ones 
who deposit me at the doorstep and receive me on the other side.  You just 
never know how things will work out. Probably not the way we expect I think. 
Whatever you tell the boss, tell the truth, but just do it tactfully, and 
letting them suggest your dream if you can swing it that way.