Re: [pct-l] Jitters] (long)

[Virginia Owen <Owen@dc.ametsoc.org>]

<excerpt>Jen said:

</excerpt>

>>>>

<excerpt>For those that have gone before:


Mike and I have trained for so long, researched so much, bought so much,
and sacrificed even more to be able to do this trek...I can't believe
it's so close to becoming reality!!!!  Is it normal to feel as nervous
and jittery as I feel right now?  I'm getting terribly excited, too, of
course, but I'm scared, on edge, and all kinds of flustered about leaving
in two weeks.  I was just curious if this is an normal reaction or if I'm
alone in feeling this way.  *sigh*


Humbly yours,

Jen "Talus" Doebler

1/2 of Team 'On Fire'

</excerpt><<<<<<<<

<excerpt>

Jen - believe me, you are not alone.  We don't leave until May 29 for our
CDT hike, but I know the feeling. I have done so much research and spent
so much  time getting ready (3 years), plus we've done long practice
hikes in Colorado and Montana, yet I know that when we get out there, it
will be as if I'm a complete newbie.  The trail is never what you expect,
even if you've done it before. It is always a unique experience.  I know
enough to know what to worry about (exhaustion, injury, river crossings,
getting lost, snow, bears, etc.) It was so much easier before my first
long hike, when I didn't really have a clue what I was getting myself
into, despite reading about the trail. I also know that when we are out
there, whatever happens, we will deal with it, one day, one moment at a
time.  We've done it before, we'll do it again. =20


Yet even so, there are moments I doubt my ability to do the whole thing.
I'm 11 years older than when I did my first thruhike and I wasn't a kid
then.  I'll be pushing a whole lot harder than I did on either of my
previous hikes. Will I be able to go the distance?  And if not, how can I
make this the best possible experience?  (Current plan is that if it
starts to feel too much like a death march, we'll change tactics, slow
down, and just plan to go as far as we can go before winter snows stop
us. If we only do 2000 miles instead of 2800 - the only thing hurt is my
pride, and I've been humbled before.)


I've had butterflies in my stomach for a long time; sometimes they grow
into dancing hippos.  There are moments I ask myself, "Do I REALLY want
this?" despite the fact that everything for the past three years has been
geared toward doing our hike.  When I do a long day hike, and come home
sore and exhausted and too tired to move, or go hiking on a cold wet
nasty day, I remember, "Oh yes, this is what thruhiking is like, only we
do it 170 days in a row!"  But then at a different moment, I'll sit next
to a small waterfall and listen to the birds awhile, and think, "Oh yes,
this is what thruhiking is about."  Thruhiking is a real mixed bag. There
is so much that is beautiful and truly awesome out there, and being
surrounded by it all day every day does wonderful things to the spirit.=20
At the same time, the drive to do big miles every day is very hard on the
body and the mind.  I've said before that long distance hiking is not
really fun, but it is happiness. I've known moments of utterly sublime
joy, total serenity, and flying above the clouds happiness on the trail.
I've also had moments of utter exhaustion and pain where I wondered, "Why
do I do this to myself? This is supposed to be good for me?" On the trail
I found that it was the small moments that meant real happiness -
watching chipmunks play, sunlight on the waters, an eagle soaring
overhead, starting a downhill stretch after a long and arduous climb, a
hot shower after a week in the woods, etc.  The big Eureka moments happen
occasionally, but the real happiness for me is in living the life on a
day to day basis - simple living at its best.

</excerpt>

<excerpt>One problem is that right now you (and I) are looking at the
whole hike.   2600 miles is a lot of trail to swallow. But when you are
out there, you can't worry about six months of hiking, all you can think
about is this day of hiking. It is total present moment living. This time
is the only thing that's real. I can look forward to the next town, but
beyond that is so far away as to be a fantasy. This climb is real. This
heat is real. The snow in the Sierras is not real because it is still 400
miles away.  Worrying about finishing isn't real, because that is still
months in the future.  All I can do is hike this section on this day.
Living in the now can be a gift - it is like looking at the world through
the eyes of a child. You learn that whatever problems you have will pass.
In an hour you'll be fed, or watered, or get a chance to rest and look at
the views. The blisters will heal. You will get stronger, day by day.  In
a week you'll sleep in clean sheets after a hot shower and eat and drink
your fill. =20

</excerpt>

<excerpt>It also helps having done so much research in that when we go
through the in-between sections - you know the unexciting ones that just
get you from one good area to the next -- I can think about the good
places still to come. On the AT I looked forward to the Balds of NC, the
Virginia Blue Ridge, the bears in the Shenandoahs, the Whites, Maine,
etc. I discovered that even in the less glamorous sections, there was so
much that was good - the people, the animals, the berries, wildflowers,
beautiful sunny days, dramatic sunsets, etc. My best views were rarely
from the highest peaks but we had some lovely ones on peaks and ridges
few people ever heard of. On the CDT I can look forward to Glacier, and
the Bob Marshall, the Anaconda Pintlar, the Winds, Colorado, the Gila
Wilderness, and so much more. I know there will be lots of wildlife to
look forward to, lots of sky to admire, and just the joy of walking along
feeling good under a summer sun. Sometimes you just say to yourself,
okay, today it's a roadwalk, tomorrow it's a high mountain ridge, each
day is unique. What can I find in this day that is special and worth
remembering?

</excerpt>

For us, the jitters are exacerbated by the fact that we have no idea what
we are doing after our hike.  We have quit our jobs and plan to start
over. We don't know where or how. If we have any money left and still
have the desire to do long hikes, we may go do the PCT next year, which
only puts off the moment of reckoning - what do we do afterwards?  But
despite the fact that everyone keeps asking us about it (why do they have
a hard time understanding that despite our ages, we still haven't figured
out what to be when we grow up, or even if we will grow up?) I can only
worry about it in the abstract. 34 days from now, we start hiking -
nothing else matters, and even that doesn't feel real some days. =20


The past four years, since we've been on AT-L and PCT-L, we've watched
group after group take off. And this year I've had the fun of saying to
myself, "soon it will be me." Friends leave and come back, and the time
between leaving and returning seems so short. And yet I know that for
those living a thruhike, it is a very intense six months, that both flies
by and seems like a lifetime. So much living in so short a time.


In 34 days we will deal with the REAL world again, and I'm not sure I'm
ready. I can't wait.


Sorry to run on so long - but you definitely pushed a button there. Have
a terrific hike.


Ginny

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