Kara, Lisa, Lynda, Dan, Paul and I spent the last 4 days with heavy packs on our backs, hiking 25+ miles down a secluded stretch of dramatic northern California coastline called The Lost Coast. The trip began before we even left our homes on Friday with meticulous portioning of food, and planning for "worst-case scenarios." There were also the last-minute trips to REI, obsessing over biodegradable soaps and the shelf life of raw cheese. It's been awhile since I've backpacked so, it was a great exercise in learning exactly what I can live without - fresh clean undergarments everyday, moisturizer, hair brush. And of course, learning what I absolutely cannot live without...water, earplugs, a warm place to sleep. On the trail, the hiker with fewer essentials is rewarded with a lighter pack. Hmm...not exactly "this american life."
Getting up there (north of Mendicino - and that is about as much as I can tell you) was quite a haul, with even a few pull-overs in the car needed due to my car sickness (puker). The situation was like this: we parked our cars, got someone to drive us to the trailhead, then hiked down the coast for 4 days to the car we just parked like an hour ago.
The hike consisted of tredging through soft sand, hard sand, wet sand, some trail, lots of rocks, lots of wind and angry/happy/calm beautiful ocean to our right at all times. Not too much uphill (thankfully). Throughout the four days, we walked endless stretches of beach, then rock, turned the corner, and there was more endless stretch of beach then rock. We sang songs, complained of aches and pains, discussed mileage, told stories. It no doubt challenged us - but got easier as we ate our way thru our packs and adapted to the pack actually morphing to our bodies, leaving our hips bruised, necks burned, and muscles tight. We encountered friendly sea lions, dead birds, spectacular sunsets and starry nights (stunning). And, like with all trips, lots of agreeing and disagreeing, sucking it up and letting it out, dirty fingernails and congratulating those achieving successful bowel movements. It was just us, the coast, the elements and the next campsite and meal for four straight days.
As we worried about whether our tent would fly away or if we picked the right spot to camp, the thought of what could possibly be happening in the world crossed our minds. On occassion. How were our families? What transpired with McCain's "hardly known" running mate? Perhaps something earth-shattering has happened, and here we are creekside, pumping water into our Nalgenes. Our usual lives are constantly bombarded with voices/stresses work, our families, the media - not to mention, managed by smartphones. Carrying our trail mix and a bag of 2-day old trash was actually quite liberating, if not humbling. The opportunity to escape from the crazies of work and life and presidential elections was respite despite the sunburns and blisters.
As our dreams of taking hot showers soon became a reality, we thought, or I guess I thought, maybe a few more days carrying that heavy pack, with only my essentials, on my back walking endless stretch of beach is actually more refreshing and cleansing for my life than clean hair and nails.
Getting up there (north of Mendicino - and that is about as much as I can tell you) was quite a haul, with even a few pull-overs in the car needed due to my car sickness (puker). The situation was like this: we parked our cars, got someone to drive us to the trailhead, then hiked down the coast for 4 days to the car we just parked like an hour ago.
The hike consisted of tredging through soft sand, hard sand, wet sand, some trail, lots of rocks, lots of wind and angry/happy/calm beautiful ocean to our right at all times. Not too much uphill (thankfully). Throughout the four days, we walked endless stretches of beach, then rock, turned the corner, and there was more endless stretch of beach then rock. We sang songs, complained of aches and pains, discussed mileage, told stories. It no doubt challenged us - but got easier as we ate our way thru our packs and adapted to the pack actually morphing to our bodies, leaving our hips bruised, necks burned, and muscles tight. We encountered friendly sea lions, dead birds, spectacular sunsets and starry nights (stunning). And, like with all trips, lots of agreeing and disagreeing, sucking it up and letting it out, dirty fingernails and congratulating those achieving successful bowel movements. It was just us, the coast, the elements and the next campsite and meal for four straight days.
As we worried about whether our tent would fly away or if we picked the right spot to camp, the thought of what could possibly be happening in the world crossed our minds. On occassion. How were our families? What transpired with McCain's "hardly known" running mate? Perhaps something earth-shattering has happened, and here we are creekside, pumping water into our Nalgenes. Our usual lives are constantly bombarded with voices/stresses work, our families, the media - not to mention, managed by smartphones. Carrying our trail mix and a bag of 2-day old trash was actually quite liberating, if not humbling. The opportunity to escape from the crazies of work and life and presidential elections was respite despite the sunburns and blisters.
As our dreams of taking hot showers soon became a reality, we thought, or I guess I thought, maybe a few more days carrying that heavy pack, with only my essentials, on my back walking endless stretch of beach is actually more refreshing and cleansing for my life than clean hair and nails.
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