It was wet outside—the sky looked like The Seventh Seal. Coffee is a bad idea when you’re already feeling restless. Trail recommendations in The Independent led me to a Forest Access parking lot. A half hour later I found myself not in a coffee shop, but two miles high, and covered in snow. Wet. No socks. No jacket. No water. With no pack or pulaskis though, I booked it. Hydrating with a snow cone, I marveled at the power of routine.
Our routine on hitch is a tranquil kind of militant. Rise. Hike three miles. Work 9 hours. Hike to camp. Cook. Eat. Sleep. Rise…There are poignant moments—spotting a wolf, hacky sack just before dark, realizing you prefer hail to rain because it’s dry; but the majority of the time is very routine, not monotonous, but lacking that adventurous feeling you get when you go somewhere on a whim.
The results of following a whim are a sense of wonder*. The results of following a routine are tasks accomplished. The task we accomplished is now there are six more miles of well-manicured trail in the Lolo National Forest. I found myself wondering as I swung my pick-mattock: Why even bother doing this? This trail may only be used by 10 people in the next year. It finally occurred to me Thursday morning walking ‘round in the snow—our MCC experience is more than a task we must rise to, it’s a direction we can’t help but go in.
After one hitch I’m already a stronger hiker, more resilient to the elements, less concerned with being provided for—improvements I expected and anticipate more of. What I didn’t expect was how automatic it would be. This poses a question: what’s the good in changing if you can’t feel it? My guess is simply that we may find ourselves in places like this in the middle of June:
No comments:
Post a Comment