This trip was highlighted by Hanging Out. If there was a perfect jazz song, this has got to be in the running. 10 minutes of joy.
Music was a heavy influence on this epic trip. There’s something unique about nature and music. Deeply felt presence and attention.
So frequently a song I’ve heard a dozens of times would cycle in, and I'd consume it in a completely different light. Rat Salad. This album is one of the cornerstones of my foundation in music, in regular rotation for well over 20 years. My more recent jazz baptism gave a completely new perspective to this song. The DRUMS!
And many more beloved albums where I’d find a new song that made itself known. Dusklight Movement, Moonlight Drive, Honey Pie, Good to Know That If I Need Attention All I Have To Do Is Die. All buried gems on epic albums. Newly discovered and appreciated. Uncovered in a moment in time when everything aligned in perfection.
I felt true joy in that moment where the world stopped and I drifted into peak state. I live for those moments, and I have them at volume.
Here’s the full playlist from the trip.
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It’s now been a week since I wrapped. The lessons and takeaways appear as ocean waves. Slow rollers with an eclipse of revelation. Sporadic and beautiful.
There were many times I considered the lessons and takeaways while on the trail, with previous knowledge that these types of trips are the source of growth. And many times I felt blank. The truth was I felt true presence and joy in the moment, with faith and understanding that the takeaways would eventually present themselves.
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The hike was epic. ~80 miles in total (~Etna --> Mt. Shasta on the northern border of CA) with all my little side missions, disc golf sessions, and camp lingering.
True pleasantries from start to finish. Flat. Beautiful views, ridge lines, forest, snow, watering holes, and alpine lakes sprinkled the trail, with something interesting at every turn. The weather was hot and pleasant.
The glamping of backpacking. Good weather, flat, beautiful.
The true testament, was the through hikers highlighting how much they enjoyed this section of the 2,650 mile PCT. Consistent feedback, that we were on their favorite section. Something I appreciate with these long hikes is the chit chat with fellow dirtbags. You’re only running into people every ~30-60 minutes, so those stranger chats are a reprieve for both parties, and enjoyed. And an interesting mix of characters and personalities. This sport attracts a type. My type (dirtbags).
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Deep down I was wishing for more. I wanted to get hit with some gnarly thunderstorm where the whole situation shifted to turmoil. I wanted to go further. We walked 10-15 miles each day, and I was fully torqued and wishing that would have been 20-30. I could have gone ALL DAY. I wanted to hurt more.
But hey — not going to complain about a luxurious week of good weather, good people, epic views, and beautiful camping at alpine lakes.
It was initially pitched as a 94 mile hike. I was hit with a mix of emotions. Anxiety, doubt, and excitement for the challenge.
Dan promptly replied with an email to the group:
Sounds great. I think I will just bring a fanny pack and run the whole trek in 1 day.
Dan is a 67 year old legend. He’s hiked K2, he’s participated in ultras around the world, a high school teacher, a former olympian, and billionaire. Unlike any human I’ve ever come across.
I had genuine curiosity on how I would perform on this hike. I love this stuff. I’m in good shape. My knee has been giving me problems for a long time. I was eager to attack the challenge. In some respects, you do need to be in good physical shape to be able to do this stuff. But physical is very minor compared to mental.
I was proud of myself for the strength and endurance physically and mentally through the week. I was the front runner and I came out of each day wanting more.
I have a lot more in me than I ever really knew. My well is deep. My mindset is strong. My desire is there. And the ceiling is far higher than I would have ever guessed. A massive unlock in my understanding of myself.
Dan was right behind me. A true inspiration for where I want to be in 30 years and how I want to live.
In the days since, I’ve been pushing myself. Going an 8 mile run instead of 4. A 20 mile hike instead of 10. Big and hard (unlike my weiner). I hope that continues.
At the end of the trip, I circled back to that initial email from Dan.
His response:
You could run the whole thing with me.
Damn fucking right I can.
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As we get older, the luxury and comfort in life continues to improve gradually. My house is spotless. The bed is comfy. The pillows are dialed. The temperature in the house Is always 69. The morning coffee is curated. The closet and fridge is full. The shower is a steam shower. I also have a hot tub.
Which makes the uncomforts of backpacking a comfort challenge.
Waking up cold. Moments where you’d have to do heavy breathing, completely wrapped in your sleeping bag, hoping to raise the temp of your cocoon so you weren’t shivering. Spending the night with your head on a down jacket as a pillow. Waking up with that nasty knot in your neck.
Spending an hour meticulously packing every single item you have at 7 AM. With a somewhat quick turnaround for the 10-20 miles ahead on the day.
Eating trail mix for lunch every day. Throwing a hail mary on the packet of coffee to jumpstart you (it never really hits the spot). Bear squatting in the middle of the woods when it’s cold. Seeing trail mix in your poop. And smelling like shit in parallel.
Sounds terrible. Is terrible.
And I LOVE it. It’s a prized, degenerate, treasure that is me at my core. It’s something I hold onto tightly. In these moments, I get to bring out my favorite piece of myself. The dirty, raw, degenerate. In this state, luxury presents itself in the adventure and pursuit of pain.
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Mornings were designed around stretching, music, and finding that spark for the day.
Finding that little sliver of sunlight. Putting the music on loud. And stretching. And stretching. And stretching.
In the first couple of days, mornings started with beautiful piano music. Listening to Passando in the early morning fog. Slow and intentional. All of the pieces for the day start to come together.
With each day my body would be a little more sore. The compounding effects of the wear and tear. The music adjusted in parallel.
With the next couple of days starting with the Beatles. Not sure if you’ve ever tried this one, but Twist and Shout might be the best morning stretch song of all time. And the last half started with electronic music, progressively heavier with each day. A nod to Inspector Norse which got every single limb moving in full motion. The creativity of stretching on these big nature adventures is always a form a self entertainment. Big music and big movements. Manifesting the energy and muscles to work for me.
A process of converting pain to pleasure.
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A final nod to the strangers that have become friends. A memory for all, that we’ll collectively share for a very long time.
A huge mix of personalities and characters. Deep connections with the people I shared the mountain with. The time, depth, environment, and lack of distractions really amplified the speed for connection and friendship.
The intimacy of “hey…..does this blister seem okay to you?”. Showing these new friends my nasty ass feet.
The relief after a long haul, decompressing over a nice conversation, laugh, and smile.
The fun in trading stories and past adventures. The memorabilia of a life well lived.
I’m blessed for the experience, and thankful I was able to share it with other good humans. And I hope this spark blossoms into rich friendships that I have for years and decades ahead.
