[pct-l] Post Trail Adjustment - a reply

[pmags at yahoo.com (Paul Magnanti)]

After my lengthy essay yesterday, received a reply.

A couple of items peaked my interest.
 It also made me write another long essay. You've be
warned. :)

First, I was surprised someone actually bothered to 

wade through my lengthy rambling.



Second, it was interesting to see their reply.



Thought it added another dimension to the discussion.



Since the person wrote me off list, I will only

excerpt what the person wrote. If that person wishes

to reply and add to the discussion on-list, then
please do.

If not...well, that is cool, too.



Anyway, the person wrote:


"It's always been my thoery that long-distance hikers
are self-medicating for depression, which returns
forcibly as soon as 
the hike is over."



As I was on my run last night (more of a slow plod,
really),

I was thinking. Do we, meaning long distance hikers,
really

self medicate? Are we nothing more than social
misfits? People 

addicted to an endorphin high? The only people we can
relate to are other people
 who also don't fit it; people who break the heart of
kith and kin?



There may be some truth  to that we "self
medicate"...to an extent. 

I think of myself. I was indeed mildly depressed after
the PCT. (And

I think had every right to de depressed after the AT.
Parents divorcing,

a lost home and a family pet deceased to boot should
be a synopsis of a country music song..not the way to
end a thru-hike! :D). But I got over it. The passage
 of time. Continuing to be active. Being involved in a
community I care about.



At this point I should be content in my life. I have a
job that I enjoy.

Great friendsin Boulder who I love like my family. 
Find something challenging  and rewarding to do almost
every weekend. But I need more. Why?



Think it is common for some people to want this
roaming in their life.

Steinbeck said it best in TRAVELS WITH CHARLIE:



"When I was very young and the urge to be someplace
else was on me, I was assured by mature people  that
maturity would cure this itch. When the years
described me as mature, the rememdy perscribed was
middle age.

In middle age I was assured that greater age would
calm my fever....Nothing has worked. In other words, I
don't improve, in futher words once a bum always a
bum. I fear the disease is incurable."



Was Steinbeck depressed? Or did something in him want
to explore the country? To again see the common 
people he wrote so eloquently about?



Traveling, exploring, seeking. It is part of us. For
many, the day to day life is enough.  A lover's hug.
The warmth of the kitchen on a cold day. A beer or two
 with a good friend.
 All important things..all good. But something calls
on us to seek more.



What pulled our distant ancestors out of the savanah?
Made Lewis and Clark explore  the land east of the
Mississipi? Moved the ancient Polynesians explore the
Pacific in canoes with only the stars to guide them?



There had to be more than depression. Something
calling to them. To explore. To seek.  To discover.



In 2005 we can not be like our distant ancestors
exploring a strange land.

We can not look at a map and say "There be dragons".



But we can explore what is new to us. Where every day
there is a new sunset.  A new view on the ridge on a
distant chain of mountains.



Over the past six months or so, have been reading
journals of Lewis and Clark.  Monday night I read a
passage about their passage through the White Cliffs
of Montana. Lewis wrote about his passage with this
line: "As we passed , it seemed
 those scenes of visionary enchantment would never
have an end". 



Maybe that is why some of us go to the wilderness.
Those "scenes of visionary  enchantment" are what we
need in our life. We also don't want them to end. We 
somehow need to see and experience something that is
bigger than us. It is our  spiritual fulfillment. Part
of what makes us complete. 



But a large part of why many of us do these wilderness
pilgrimages is for the experiences,  the memories, the
living of life to its most simple components.



As I ponder why many of us seek out wilderness
experience, my thoughts turn to a quote by Shackelton:



"In memories we were rich. We had pierced the veneer 
of outside things.... 

We had seen God in His  splendours, heard the text
that Nature renders. We had  reached the naked soul of
man."



In this harsh Antartic beauty, where they were reduced
to eating their sled dogs to survive, Shackleton and
his  crew still saw how what they were experiencing
was  something special. In a smaller way, I think a
long voyage in the wilderness seems to bring about the
same types of

feelings.  We will never have an epic journey such as 
Shackleton. Most of us will never scale Everest or 
Denali. We will not cross the contintenal divide
before any Euro-Americans. We will not be able to look
at a map

and say "There be dragons".   But, at least in some
way, by experiencing time in nature, we can at least
glimpse
 "God in His  splendors" and at least catch the
whispers of the "text that Nature renders".   

And after several months on a journey, most of us have
reached and discovered our own soul, laid out bare. A
long journey seems to be a form of catharsis.
Stripping down the unessential, let us discovering
what truly is important.  The end result is that we 
do indeed wind up  rich in memories. Long after the
blisters have healed  and the muscles are no longer
sore, we remember that one special spot that will be
forever etched in our  minds. 



So, do we hike to self-medicate due to depression?
Maybe.  But I think it is so much more. It is
experiencing life. Seeking. Exploring. Discovering.
Maybe not new lands..but lands that inspire us none
the less. And perhaps most importantly, being able

reach our own naked soul.



And that is why I think many of us hike.



Thankyou for reading this far. Maybe you find it a
pile of steaming manure. Or maybe not. 











************************************************************
The true harvest of my life is intangible.... a little stardust 
caught, a portion of the rainbow I have clutched
--Thoreau
http://www.magnanti.com