Date: 2002-11-22
Miles today: 0.0

My last horse left today.So, I want to talk about "stuff." As in, how did I get all this STUFF?"Everybody needs SOME Stuff. But how did this Plethora of Stuff creep up on me? I have more Stuff than I need, and it's weighing me down.That is one lesson backpacking has taught me - everything has Weight. Everything. Be it physical or psychological, everything has Weight. Stuff demands attention, and maintenance, and more attention. So, maybe I need to thin out the herd, and concentrate my focus. Make every bit of Stuff that I keep count. Some Stuff is worth keeping.I am noticing Stuff lately because I have to distill it all into little boxes and store it. What I don't store, I have to sell, toss or give away. And there is ALOT of Stuff.That is why this "hike thing" was so puzzling initially. It means ALOT ofdisruption: selling of the horses, the loss of beloved clients, the loss ofincome for most of a year, finding a safe home for the car, the herculeaneffort of evaluating, boxing and/or throwing out in order to stuff all one'searthly belongings into storage, the surrender of this fabulous farm lease and all the free-floating uncertainty Life After Hiking entails,the placing of the pets with good, kind people who will understand their subtlesignals, such as "Thunder makes me so scared; I need a hug NOW or I'll haveto run in the closet and puke in your shoes." And I worry about my father.My first hurdle was the horses. It is expensive to keep horses, and I wouldn't be earning Anything in 2003. Boarding them was out of the question, financially. (My friend Mara: "People ask - what is the cost of a thru-hike? And I tell them - it's not just what you spend while hiking. It's how much you are NOT EARNING while you are hiking...)Yet their individual horsey destinies have been entwined with mine for over a decade. Letting go in this aspect was the most painful, yet also liberating. Horses demand lots of time and money. As I wrote to friends today, after the last horse - my goofy, gorgeous stallion Lunar - trundled down the driveway toward his new life as a jumper in Massachussetts ..."I would be happy (about my new freedom), if I could just stop crying..."Horseless for the first time since teenhood. Very strange! My friends are in shock.The barn has to be emptied in December. A farm-sized life, distilled down to a few tubs of Essential Stuff.Then I have to uproot the apartment and sort through all of that. That's January's project. Enough said there.There is Lots More Stuff to account for.My new car: my friend Diane has offered to babysit the Subaru, keep it running every once in awhile so the oil sloshes over things, so the tires don't go flat. I must sell my truck, but she offered to babysit that too, if it doesn't sell. (She also runs me around the reservoir twice a week, and she's TOUGH!)Plants: My friend Steve is babysitting the plants (there are many), and will help me shovel out the barn. Now, THAT'S a friend!Pets are Stuff too. They are Special Stuff. They need Special Friends. Not Just Anyone will do.My landlords want to watch over my macho cat Rocket. Dottie and her husband Bob enjoy Rocket's chutzpah among the raucous dogpack here. Rocket is very farm savvy. "He walks through those dogs like a stallion," marvels Bob. "That cat is not leaving," says Dottie. My little dog Pogo is another matter. A willful, odd little beast, I love her to pieces. She's more like a cat than a dog. Very independent. Terrified of thunder. Jumps out of any fence, and refuses to come when called. If she escapes from someone's house, they will never catch her by chasing her. She will be gone. Instead, they must quickly jump in the car, start the engine and open a door. Who will put up with this wacky nonsense? Pogo is my second-to-last worry.My largest worry is father. He is Major Stuff, and most definitely a Keeper. Dad will be 85 in 2003, and is not always stable on his pins. At this age, six months is a long time to be away. An amazing, kind woman named Doris looks after his everyday needs, and my brilliant techie-genius math-head brother handles dad's finances. Altho I will be phoning home, the load this summer will fall on Doris and my brother's shoulders. I don't know how to get easy with this. I have to be mentally ready to fly home at a moment's notice.So, you see some of the issues/hassles involved in taking a trek of this magnitude. That's not even taking into acount the finances (and losses thereof), the paying of bills while on the Trail, the access to money and mail, the food and gear drops. The intense gear and Trail research undertaken before even taking that first step "out there."Then there is the "inner stuff:" the fears (can I do it?), the potential losses, the temporary loss of "identity," the unknown, the what-will-happen-after?.An AT thru-hike has to loom LARGE in the interior landscape. Or it will never happen. Life just won't hand you one. You have to want it, badly.Just don't ask me to fully account for it!