Re: [pct-l] Things you miss years after you Finish

[Greg Hummel <ghummel@hydrogenburner.com>]

Monte's message brought back many deep memories.  

Being down at Campo and Lake Morena this weekend also brought back so many
great memories and brought up some painful emotions:

The memories:
	A frost coated first morning, awaking to a crystaline scene and deep blue
sky and the relief that the first day was past and I had actually started.  

	The miriad of textures beneath my feet: solid granite, rotten granite,
crushed granite, granite dust, metamorhic rocks, the reflection of light
from the crystals, solid oak tree leaves, mud, white mud, black mud, every
shade of gray mud, asphalt, concrete (fortunately not too much of the last
two for you 99'ers)

	The store down the road from Buckman Springs.  A little place on the old
highway, sells gasoline but not much these days as it is too far off the
main highway (8).  The smell in the store, the total essence of the place
brought back a vivid memory of stepping through that same door, so long ago.

	The grimey crust on the skin at the end of the day that you think is dirt
but find from inspection is salt!

	That little voice in my head, the draw of the trail, "come walk upon me
and find the adventures that lie just over the hill, come, come . . . "

	The gear comparisons, discussions, examining.  "How much does it weigh?"
"What if it snows heavily on it?" "What about ventilation?"  "How fast does
it boil a quart of water?" "What kind of material is that?" "What is in
that gorp?" "Rice milk?"


The Painful Emotions:

	As I watch them walk away down the trail repeating thanks for the help,
the incredible desire, the shameful selfishness, the deep gut need to go,
to go with, to find a way . . . 


Maybe in 2008 when my youngest is 18 and headed for college, hell, maybe
he'll even go with me!

Greg "Strider" Hummel


Monte wrote:

>Some of the things you miss most about this trail  are the first sounds of 
>rain drops hitting the tent fly after a hard days hike through dry dust. ( 
>Nothing puts you to sleep like the sound of rain on the tent. Also the look 
>on two old bitties faces when you walk into town  ( whispering, gee Agness, 
>am glad that,s not MY SON ) for your mail drop with no bath for 3 weeks. ( 
>looking like the guy on Jethro Tull,s Aqualung Album Cover )  Meeting a few 
>fellow thu-hikers 3 months later on the trail who you thought had quit  and 
>hadn,t seen since your first week out. The taste of a rootbeer float after 
>living on cup-a-soup for the last 3 days. The look of a high Sierra tarn at 
>midnight with no clouds and a full moon.  The hiss of your favorite stove 
>when  you have been walking all day in 33 degree half snow slush and finally 
>set up camp. These things will stand out more over time than when you reach 
>the border on that final year of your hike.

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