Apologies for the late post. After scheduling this one to go live, I spent a weekend actually backpacking, including the drive to and from, and realized that the post I had intended was not the post that I had written. What follows is my second attempt at expressing this consuming compulsive disorder.
On the fourth of July, someone asked me about my hike, and I didn't even bother hiding how excited I was that someone--anyone--wanted to talk about it. "It's all I think about," I told him. "Whatever I'm doing, my brain twists it to somehow be applicable to backpacking. When I go to bed at night, I think about going to bed on the trail, and advantages of the tent over shelters, or shelters over tents. I think about the bedding I have, and the bedding I'd like to get to replace it, and how much each of them weighs, and how much the new stuff will cost, and then I wonder about whether the pad will be comfortable, and how long it should be, and whether the quilt will be warm enough, and then I remember the leggings I need and still haven't selected." And it goes on and on.
When I'm on long drives (usually between where we live now and where one or both of us used to live, but sometimes just up and down the east coast for sundry reasons), I'm always on the lookout for where our route crosses the Trail. If we don't cross the trail, I try to see the ridge the trail follows. If it's too far away, or if we've already passed out of sight, or aren't in sight of it yet, I see it in my mind. I may be piloting my beloved Tardis, but in my head I'm hiking somewhere, surrounded by green, enduring whatever weather is actually outside the car. I think about how I'd handle the current weather if I were backpacking. I think about the gear I've bought--or still need to buy--to cope with the conditions. I continually hope it will be sufficient to keep me healthy enough to keep hiking.
As I make dinner in our apartment, I think about dinners on the trail. Is there any way to increase the caloric density of my pack? Will butter survive August in food tubes? I usually make my own trail mix so I can get exactly the blend I want, but without access to a well-stocked bulk section in a grocery, I'll have to buy a lot more than I really need to get me to the next resupply opportunity, which means carrying more weight than necessary. I've been careful to train myself on foods I'm pretty sure will be available everywhere along the route, rather than limiting myself to very particular menu items, but there may come a time when my only resupply option is a gas station. Can I get enough out of such a food paucity to get to the next store? Will I be able to get the stove fuel I need (I did check before buying my stove to see whether the fuel was readily available along the trail, but there's no way to be sure until I'm out there)? I've had enough practice at this mental acrobatic act to consider all of these things while monitoring the food I'm cooking in the real world, and that alone impresses me to no end, knowing as I do how much of my brain is consumed with these questions.
Every time I pull on a pair of shoes--any shoes--I remind myself that I need to order a few extra pairs of Brooks Adrenaline trail runners and distribute them to the people who have eagerly volunteered to act as my support team. I also need to investigate sturdier insoles, get a pair, and train my feet to be happy with them. I'm trying to get in the habit of stretching each night (especially when actually backpacking) to keep my body healthy and limber enough to avoid the surprise muscle pains that crop up when I'm not as diligent in my fitness routines. I've given serious thought to sleeping without pillows to get my body used to that as well, but this past weekend I learned that my new rain shell, when packed into its own stuff pocket, doubles as a handy camping pillow.
By now you've gotten your own taste of what it's like to live in my brain as I transform from someone who has a general love of doing things outdoors to a person with a singular, obsessive focus in every single aspect of my life. Perhaps I should apologize; I struggle to not mention backpacking to anyone, because if I talked about it as much as I think about it, everyone I know (and several complete strangers) would be sick of hearing about it months before I hit the trail. But if they bring it up... well, that's different. Then they're asking for it.
Eventually, I reached a point where I was no longer surprised at my own ability to link anything I'm doing to backpacking. Now I'm curious about whether it will ever stop. Is this an obsession based on one trip, or am I cultivating a new pastime? Will I forever be doomed to look at a suitcase, coat, or book and first think "way too heavy"? Will I always be more comfortable slogging through mud in the woods with thirty pounds on my back than I am sipping cocktails with well-dressed bon vivants and discussing the current political situation and fashionable attire?
Man, I hope so.
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