Date: 2005-02-25
To: "Live Like You're Dyin'"
Miles today: 0.0

In my journal entry #32, I explored my reasons for going on this little adventure, and what I hoped to get out of it. What I did NOT focus on is what else the experience might do to ME ¢ ready or not, like it or not. I think maybe it¢s time for me to reflect a bit on that. When I first open up someone else¢s trail journal from an earlier year, I usually start with their ¢about¢ section, and maybe the origins of their trail name, and then read the first few entries to get a sense of who they are and how they see things. Then I skip to the last entry to see if they made it to Katahdin. If they did, the next pages I¢ll read are the post-Katahdin entries, if any. You see, I already have a sense of what it¢s like to hike the trail. The challenges there ¢ however difficult and demanding ¢ are relatively predictable. The really interesting thing is what happens to people AFTER they make it to Katahdin. It¢s about the adjustment to life after the trail, and my sense is that it is something akin to post-traumatic shock syndrome combined with humongous environmental and socio-cultural withdrawal pains.Alerted to this phenomenon, I asked one of my mentors what it was like after she had completed her through-hike. She said she went back to work right away, out of pure economic necessity, and while she liked her job and her co-workers, she also cried every day in the car on her way to work for about the first six months. She just wanted so desperately to be back out there on the trail instead of cooped up inside all day. Others have trouble adjusting once again to the normal rules of society, some of which are honored only in the breach out on the trail. (After six months, so it¢s said, if it weren¢t for the bacteria, some hikers probably wouldn¢t have any culture left at all!) Not surprisingly, one¢s tolerance for bureaucracy may be seriously eroded, and the baseline and threshold levels for the old B.S. detector will need to be thoroughly re-calibrated before one can successfully reintegrate into the communications traditions of the world of work. Bear in mind that people who decide to go off and spend six months in the woods are not what you might call ¢normal¢ in the first place, and I think you¢ll see the potential for post-hike adjustment challenges. I seem to recall reading that someone had done a post-hike survey of AT through-hikers, and found that quite a large number were not gainfully employed for a year or more following the completion of their hike. Of those who were employed, some had opted for trail-related service jobs -- working, for example, at one of the hostels that cater to the AT hiking community. Although I am officially retired, I am not yet ready to give up the financial rewards that come from gainful employment. My plan has always been to go back to work when I return from the trail. Not full time, perhaps; maybe three to four days a week, and with summers off. What worries me a bit is how hard it may be for me to do that. I mean, I can probably convince myself to sign up for something and have at it, but will my heart be in it the way it has been for the past 35 years? How painful will it be to go to an office all day instead of heading off up the trail? I mean, even today, given the choice¢¦ I was going to call this journal entry ¢The Downside Risks.¢ That would certainly be ¢Worrier Man¢s¢ title for it! After further reflection, however, I decided to steal the title of a currently popular country/western song ¢ ¢Live Like You¢re Dyin.¢¢ It¢s a song about a guy who has had to deal with some kind of life-threatening medical diagnosis, as a result of which, ¢I¢ve been sky dive¢n; Rocky Mountain High climbin¢; I¢ve spent 2.7 seconds on a bull named ¢Fu Manchu¢. It ends with the refrain ¢I hope some day you also get the chance to live like you¢re dyin¢.¢Part of the message is to enjoy life while we can. A more important part is to take some risks for a change, instead of always taking the cautious route. And one of the key points of the message is that taking those kinds of risks can be liberating and joyous and just plain fun! So, I think that¢s how I need to approach the risks inherent in this little adventure. There will be trade-offs, that¢s for sure. But I need to look less at the downside and more at the upside.From all I¢ve read, for example, hiking the trail is a very liberating experience. It¢s likely to open me up to new possibilities ¢ new ideas, new connections, and new ways of seeing things. Indeed, I have experienced that phenomenon already through these journal entries without having set one foot yet onto the approach trail at Springer. It¢s like Scholar wrote in her journal earlier today: ¢Your eyes play only a small role in how and what you actually see.¢ I¢ll be a different person when I get back. Still me, but different. And on balance, I¢m sure that¢s going to be a good thing. And I¢ll find a way to deal with the downside risks. I guess you could say that this hike is part of my chance to live like I¢m dyin¢.   Or, to paraphrase another of my favorite journalists, if I¢m not careful out there, I might just have myself a ¢Transformative Psycho-Spiritual Experience¢ that will make it all worthwhile.Stay tuned,