walk observations

Walk observations: 

Like life, the walking doesn’t get easier on some sort of upward trajectory. Without rhyme or reason, some days my pack feels light as a feather for 30 straight k. Some days, even as I eat through food weight, I would swear someone’s added rocks to my pack. Only once have I been right. 


Twice in the last week I’ve cried to grown men, older men with greying hair, because they were the nearest living body I met after having, on the one occasion, a bit of a run in with a bull and, on the second, a truly fitful sleep after hearing a scamper and screech outside my tent. Recounting my fears in great detail, tears streaming down my face, to grown men (strangers, no less!) is a very new and strange thing for me. Both have been very kind if not comically a little taken aback. We’re working it out. 

If trail life is a dream, slightly off trail sleeping life is more like a half wake-sleep rollercoaster. You’re not entirely sure you’re on it — could be dreaming, could be enjoying it, could be the worst time of your life. Could even be all three in quick succession. The adrenaline rushes the two times I’ve been truly frozen scared have both brought to mind, mid-freeze, the city life, the desk life I’m leaving behind. To say the least, it’s surprised me to be considering —seriously considering — the pros and cons of society while board-stiff with bear spray and hunting knife — safeties off — in hand, ready to be eaten. I know very well how absurd that sounds, and yet this is among the thoughts my racing fear-brain has produced. I’m working on making sense of this. 

I’ve started to sense not only the geographic changes, but also the cultural shifts as I move through the land; the way one community melts into another over distance. I can’t put it to words just yet, but it’s been rather unexpected and quite beautiful and remarkable, this social drift. 

Our society is set for the apocalypse. If I need soap for the week I must buy soap for the next 4 months, but if I’ve just bought rice and beans for the next two weeks, perhaps I’ll skip the soap. But I’m in town and won’t see another fresh thing for at least six days, so I guess I’ll eat three apples, a whole head of lettuce, and half a dozen eggs before the day is out. Timing bulk is everything. 

Everything I own and am is filled with dirt. I don’t much mind, just to say that I’ve become aware of how everything I touch turns to dust, is covered in dust. Meanwhile my skin fancies itself a delicate orchid and is rejecting trail life very overtly. This reality does not please me. 

Today, regroup from frightful night day, I’m cleaning and purging. It’s shocking how much baggage I’ve managed to carry halfway through the province, how many things I haven’t used in almost 4 weeks on the trail, but shoulder mile after mile ‘just in case’. Letting go feels good. Taking stock and learning this about myself feels even better. 

Tonight’s trail angels are Lisa, Colleen, Chanda, and Jerry. Jerry is a motobiker who works with forestry and natural resources and has twice walked sections of the Camino. Jerry saw me struggling to clean my stove after trying a new fuel and offered me a bar of soap, and later a small amount of shampoo dispensed into a ziplock I had on hand because he loves his little travel containers, and so he wanted to keep the container. I loved that he loves his containers, that he was ok with the awkwardness of me accepting the shampoo in a ziplock. A place for everything, everything in its place, and only so much everything as you need. And clean hair on the horizon, to boot! 

Lisa is one of the strongest walkers I know; a human who walks everywhere for ultility more often than adventure but also and as much for adventure and the sheer pleasure of walking. I’ve had the great gift of walking and hiking and adventuring with Lisa on three continents, in every terrain and climate and season imaginable. Lisa is a voracious reader with an uncanny recall and strange penchant for ‘things-that-can-kill-you’ facts, always tailored for the local clime and fauna. Lisa was an obvious first-call after my night with the scampering screecher, which I deduced to bird or cougar, having been recently told that mom cougars make a bird-like screech when calling for their pups. In Lisa’s always wonderful words: “The bird thing is true, but you know what else sounds like a bird….birds! Beautiful birds! 

“Only 27 fatal cougar attacks in the last century. The only one even remotely near you was in the 70s and was a child, not adult sized you! 
“There was a study done with recordings of human voices (the control being frog sounds) and cougars ran away at the sound of voices 83% of the time. They’re scared!
“Do you want a list of all the things you did this week that are more dangerous than sleep in a tent? We’ll just say that the top causes of death BY FAR are heart disease, stroke, cancer, Alzheimer’s, and diabetes, all of which you are actively lowering your risk for everyday. 
“You are much more likely to die of a bee sting than a cougar attack, so listen for the bees at night.
“Also also, cougar method is the old stalk and ambush, so they really don’t go for anything they can’t see, like people sleeping in tents. Risk is almost 0. There is one event in recorded history (so like 100+ years) of an attack on somebody in a sleeping bag (no tent). He survived and even drove himself to hospital. And that was a one in a billion billion  weird event that drew attention from all over for its rarity.
“Is that enough? Want more? As special as you are, you’re just not that special. Lady cougar will likely have a deer for dinner.”  Amazing! 

And last but not least, Colleen and Chanda who hold keys to the universe and reflected wise perspective to me from the other end of a telephone wire. 

In gratitude and rollercoaster respect.

6 thoughts on “walk observations

  1. Hi Bonnie,
    You don’t know us and we only know of you. (we are friends of your Mom & Dad). It is an incredible thing that you are doing. Very courageous of you and this is definitely not something that we would ever consider. Maybe if we were your age………………..NOT! Just Kidding. Even though, we are enjoying your posts and pictures (you have some incredible shots). Keep the posts and pics coming. Wish you all the best. Take care and happy trekking! Rose & John

    Like

    • Hi Rose and John! I do indeed know and remember you. I think I saw you last at a wake last year, actually! Thanks for following and sending your warm wishes! Much appreciated!

      Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s