But I did try to stop at moments during the hike to reflect on the journey, and mainly to appreciate the fact that I was out here on the Pacific Crest Trail, not sitting at my computer at work or stuck in traffic on my commute, or even just cleaning the house on a weekend. We were fortunate to get the time off to complete the hike. It didn't just happen, of course, we worked for it, saved for it, planned for it, and made it happen. So I wanted the hike to be about the actual trail, not the excitement of getting to town and being able to shower, get real food, etc. I didn't take headphones or electronic gadgets with me, because I always wanted to be aware of the sounds and sights around me (easy to do in the beautiful Sierras and Washington, less so in the dry scrubby desert and other nondescript areas). Sometimes I would just stop and listen. The only sound would be the wind and an occasional bird call. Remarkable, considering the noisy world we live in.
I hike for wilderness and solitude. (Family and spouse still count as solitude) This year saw a record number of hikers on the PCT, almost quadruple the number of just a few years ago. I wonder what it would have been like with less people on trail. Still, I liked my fellow thru-hikers, and you can hardly complain about all the trail traffic when you're part of it yourself.
As for wilderness, the West Coast has an abundance of it. I'm always grateful to the John Muirs of the world, people who saw the value in preserving wilderness for itself, and who fought to create parks and wilderness areas. There are always those who want to develop and exploit every natural resource, and those of us who are environmentally aware need to continually fight to protect it. I don't see the need to justify wilderness preservation in terms of human benefit: tourist dollars to local communities, health benefits from clean air and water. Wilderness should be protected because it has intrinsic value. Because animals live there. Because future generations need to see it. Because 'beauty is it's own excuse for being.'
Fine writing, Bonnie. I especially like your concluding quote from the poem "Rhodora".
ReplyDelete“You cannot stay on the summit [trail] forever; you have to come down again. So why bother in the first place? Just this: What is above knows what is below, but what is below does not know what is above. One climbs [hikes], one sees. One descends, one sees no longer, but one has seen. There is an art of conducting oneself in the lower regions by the memory of what one saw higher up. When one can no longer see, one can at least still know.”
ReplyDelete― René Daumal