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Re: [pct-l] What about the tedium and boredom?



Joanne wrote (on 1-25-99):

<< But many hours are spent looking at the same type of scenery, just walking
 every day. My mind quickly seems to submerge into a porridge of daydreams,
 schemes, imaginary conversations, and attempts to solve various mundane
 problems....   What do the people on the list do to cope with the tedium and 
 boredom of so many hours of walking?  What was your mind like at the end of
 a thruhike of the PCT anyway?  
  >>

Mike "Snoop" Paton added (1-26-99):

<<  ...there's not a high proportion people that hike at all, period.  So
 explaining why you took 6 months off "to live in the woods" gets to
 dull the "specialty" of being a thruhiker.  There's not many people
 who can relate, or even comprehend the idea.  I just avoid the subject
 when ever possible.
 >>

Thanks, Ginny and Rebecca, for starting a thoughtful thread -- and thanks to
many others who added to the discussion.  During our '97 hike, I spent some of
those long hours on the trail wondering how a thruhiker would explain to
others why he or she was out there.  

On the trail, my mind tended to generate song lyrics (to a walking beat).  One
of these efforts addresses Snoop's question about whether, or how, people in
the real world might relate to our "specialty".  Here 'tis:


                   THAT FAR LOOK

                                                         Words by TrailDad


 1.  It came up in conversation that I'd hiked the PCT.
     I felt anticipation; it meant a lot to me.

     "What's that?" says one, "How nice," another.
          Then the subject died.
     They just don't understand our need to hike, I think,
          surprised.

     Why don't they show some interest?  Perhaps they just
          don't care.
     Not everyone can see much point in spending time
          out there.

     Not many share our interest in reaching for this prize.
     But then, just for a moment, I see something in their
          eyes.


 Refrain:

        That far look, (for a moment I see)
             that far look in their eye,
        (And) I know they're out there somewhere
             on that trail up near the sky.

        Counting stars at night
             or cutting steps across the snow,
        Pausing long enough to see
             the cactus-flower's glow.

        I can see they're out there somewhere,
             There's that far look in their eye.


 2.  If I had the time, that look says, I'd be there today.
     I'd get some boots and pack my pack, and I'd be on my
          way.

     I'd tramp across the desert, stop in to see Jack Fair.
     Listen to his salty talk and laugh to clear the air.

     Climb into my bag at night and search my starry room.
     Spot a feathery comet beside a crescent moon.

     Watch great Cygnus chase Aquila down the Milky Way,
     Dodging Sagittarius' arrow, till the break of day.


 3.  If I had the strength, that look says, I'd go on that
          hike,
     Along the LA aquaduct, into the snowbound heights.

     Meet Edward, Duke of Gorp from York, and Dale from
          New Zealand,
     Walk with Justin and Katrina, Andyman and Susan.

     Travel fast, travel light, hope for decent weather,
     Scale walls of rock and ice, Glen and Muir and Mather.

     Start out early on the trail to stretch the daylight
          hours.
     Drink pure water, breathe fresh air, stop to smell the
          flowers.


 4.  If I had the will, that look says, I could find the
          time,
     I'd be strong enough, I know, to do the Whitney climb.

     See this country, south to north, the mountains, lakes
          and flowers,
     Listen to the rushing streams, gaze up at granite
          towers.

     Smell the scent of Jeffrey Pine, hear voices in night
          wind,
     Stand with friends at trail's end and talk it through
          again.

     I must take this chance I have to hike along the Crest,
     From Campo up to Manning Park, then take my well-earned
          rest.

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