Charlotte Clews Lawther Thru-hiking

Here's what Charlotte is carrying at the moment (August). We are sharing lots of gear so I included the gear that Charlotte uses but Jerome carries. I also included brand names to help trip planners compare and contrast. Patagonia provided out clothing and it has held up famously. Lowa provided our shoes and they are also first rate. Each pair is good for about 500 miles. Smartwool and Superfeet also gave us their products at no cost, and we are big fans of both companies!

My gear (including shared gear) came to about 12.5 pounds without food and water. This accounts for Jerome carrying the tent and the cooking gear (marked with *).

Item	Weight in oz.
GoLite Gust backpack	17.5
Feathered Friends sleeping bag (shared with Jerome)	40
1/2 Ridge rest sleeping pad	4
Homemade tarp/tent with bug netting	24*
Petzel Tica headlamp	2
Hike n lite alcohol stove	4*
Plastic bottle with alcohol for stove	5*
Evernew titanium 1.3L cook pot with lid	6*
Canon digital camera with homemade neoprene case	9.5
Patagonia capilene short sleeveshirt	5.5
Patagonia Silkweight long sleeve zip shirt	5
Patagonia expedition fleece pullover	8
Patagonia Supercell rain jacket	13
Patagonia Dragonfly pullover	3
Isis stretch tights	3
Patagonia Go II pants	5
Patagonia supercell rain pants	7
Patagonia light weight capilene gloves	1
Homemade fleece hat	2
Patagonia Go II shorts	3
Smart wool socks (2 pair)	6
Cotton underwear (2 pair)	1
Toiletries in homemade stuffsack	4
Firstaid kit in homemade stuffsack	5
Plastic spoon	0.5
Camelback 1.4L water bag with hose	4
Nalgene 1L Lexane waterbottle	5
Map pages	0.5
Reading material	1
Journal and pen	3
Jackknife	1.5
Sunglasses with cloth case	1.5
Lighter	0.2
Leki Makalu shock hiking poles (also used as tent poles)	in hands
Shoes	on feet
Total	200.7 oz = 12.5lbs

Mack's Inn, ID to I-15 (Monida Pass, ID)

We spent the first three days wondering where we were, (geographically, spiritually..) There were no signs of an actual trail used by walking humans, though we did find plenty of elk, moose, deer, and ATV trails. The views were spectacular and helped us navigate an otherwise very rough landscape past Sawtell Peak and down Hell Roaring Canyon over to Blaire Lake. It was after a very frustrating morning of bushwhacking down a canyon still looking for the trail (on day three) that we finally came upon our first trail marker! We documented the occasion well and ate extra pieces of wasa cracker to celebrate. After that the trail or a version of trail was much more obvious. Especially once we actually got on the divide where the trail is often an old ATV track or jeep track right along the stark ridge line. Climbing up and over Taylor Mountain was pretty challenging since we weren't yet fully acclimatized to the altitude (9,000 ft) and it was late in the day. On the way down I had some pretty bad knee pain and the mosquitos threatened to take Jerome back to Vermont. But somehow we made dinner and after a good night's rest we we're ready to hike again. I love the amazing transformation that can take place over just a few hours of rest. Even though we woke up to drizzle, we were ready to hike and see what was around the corner. Jerome carried most of my weight so I could figure out if my knee was going to get better. After a day of hiking with an empty pack, drinking lots of water, and icing with snow off the trail, it was much better. Because we hiked so few miles the first four days we anticipated needing to resupply somewhere before Leadore. The obvious choice was to hitch from Monida Pass to Lima, MT. When we got to the Interstate, like an angel from Montgomery (Ipsilanti, MI actually), a white van drove up and a man leaned out the window asking if we were hiking the CDT. Turned out to be Gordon Smith and his sister Sue Lockwood - Trail Angels petrodollar who have been helping hikers for over 20 years. They saw us coming down the road (visible for several miles from the highway) and ended up driving us to Lima. They were actually there to help another couple who were apparently hiking a short section of the CDT and were only a day behind us. Back on the trail the next day we were chased across the sage brush by violent thunderstorms. The hike to Bannock Pass was beautiful -- the divide through there was open and grassy. We ran into a NOLS course which was fun, and saw lots of elk, and a mother and cub black bear. Now for the cultural side of thru-hiking: We arrived at Bannock Pass around 6:30 pm having hiked 26 miles the day before and 23 on that day. We were hot, hungry, thirsty and sick of thunderstorms. Also Jerome's feet were looking more and more like hamburger every day (shoes too small). There was absolutely no traffic on the road and it was 15 miles of road walking to Leadore from Bannock Pass. Finally we spotted a car about 10 miles away headed our way! Excitedly, we got our sign ready, posted Jerome by the cattle guard and me in the middle of the road. As the van crested the hill I wildly waved my sign, Jerome dropped to his knees in prayer, and the car swerved to miss me and just kept going. It was the first time I wanted to cry on the trip so far. Left with no other choice (we needed water) we started walking. Jerome cheerfully pointed out that we could make it by midnight if we walked 3.5 miles an hour. Finally around 9pm, just when we found a trickle of cow-slime water in a culvert, a second car came down the road. Saved!! A nice Fish and Wildlife biologist gave us a ride into Leadore (pop. 62)

August 5 - Camped at MacDonald Pass, MT

Here we are back where we started with Bekah a few weeks ago. Sadly, she flies out tomorrow from Butte. We've had a very social last couple of days. First we were pleasantly surprised to find "Homeless and Unemployed" (aka Mary and Bob - AT 2001 - who we met in the laundry-mat in Lincoln and then again at the Two Medicine Ranger Station) waiting for us at the Many Glacier campsite when when got there after a very soggy and foggy day of hiking. They whisked us away to St. Mary's where they bought us a lovely dinner that included more greenery then the entire park food service orders in a year. They are a really neat almost retired couple from Illinois, they quit their jobs last year, sold their house, stored their stuff in their daughter's garage and bought a snazzy camper to travel in. After hiking the AT they took to the open road and appear to still be loving every minute of it! We we're inspired.

Also, while hiking into Many Glacier across Peigan Pass the same day, we happened to run into Pieps and Fiddlehead, two other thru-hikers that are attempting to hike the triple crown in one year (visit their website triplecrownoneyear.com) We recognized Pieps from previous hiker gatherings, and of course we knew he was a thru-hiker because he was wearing Frog Toggs (really ugly but very functional rain pants). They are van supported and offered to drive us down to Helena the next day. We couldn't pass up the great ride and a chance to hang out with the first thru-hikers we'd seen hiking the trail all summer, so we changed our hiking plans a bit and headed straight for the Canadian border the next morning. Because we had to hike 20 miles by 3pm to catch up with them at the border, Bekah opted out of the hike and enjoyed a more leisurely day and met us at the north end of the trail along with Pieps and Joyce - the van driver. It was another very foggy day and we could barely make out the trail 50 feet ahead of us - there were bouts of rain but we stayed warm because we we're moving pretty fast (we gave our packs to the van crew!). Suddenly as we came out into a field the clouds lifted for just a moment and Jerome stopped ahead of me. He said "Isn't this a great moment?" (He always says stuff like this). He was digging through his pack and before I knew it he was down on his knee proposing! I said "Are you serious?!" Then he produced two silver rings that he had bought in E.Glacier. Of course I agreed to marry him (in the middle of a down-pour), and we had a great time hiking the remaining 10 miles to Canada, newly engaged!

But our true adventure with Team Triple Crown (TTC) had only begun. Pieps and Bekah met us on the trail and hiked to the border with us. Despite border security Pieps did his best to video tape the customs building and even offered to sell us his footage. We took lots of pictures at the monument in 'no mans land' but it felt relatively insignificant considering we still have 2000 miles to hike! We were then greeted by Joyce (Fiddleheads girlfriend and the current TTC driver) with a steaming bowl of homemade split pea soup. Much appreciated. After picking up Fiddlehead from Two Medicine and trying to prevent Pieps from harassing some unduly snooty section hikers (hiking, god forbid, on the road!) we continued south. Jerome and I unsuccessfully tried to steal one of the many pairs of dry socks that TTC was hording in their van along with their clean cotton t-shirts, short-order cook, jacuzzi, and champagne. However, we were entertained by their excellent music selection, and treated to a second dinner at Serranos in E.Glacier (the best restaurant on the trail).

August 21, Dubois, WY.

We're in town for the day so that Jerome can recover from his week long bout with the West Nile virus (or something - maybe it had to do with our abduction by the Team Triple Crown spaceship a few weeks back). He's feeling much better and we still managed to put in some long days with him staring morosely at the map and feeling sick to his stomach. However this morning's breakfast is a testament to the healing power of walking - for breakfast Jerome ate two large pancakes, hashbrowns, two fried eggs, a large buffalo sausage, a serving of potatoes with cheese, seven pieces of rye toast, a quart of coffee, and a few sneaky bites of my pie and ice cream. Now, (four hours later) he's about to go get lunch. He was also spotted tapping his toes to the square dance caller at the bar last night, which means he's almost back to his old self.

We're very happy to finally be really heading south - back on track - so we don't have to explain our whole convoluted itinerary to passersby any more. We had just started to hitch from Salmon when a truck pulled over - turned out to be the NOLS Salmon Branch director on his way to Driggs, ID. We had a great two-hour ride getting filled in on all the NOLS gossip, and realizing, that at least for now, we are happy to be in the wilderness by ourselves! He dropped us on the road about 40 miles south of Macks Inn. Our next ride was with a reticent man in a jeep - possibly too many antidepressants - and next with a 16-year-old metalhead skate boarder - possibly not enough antidepressants - and finally a climber/geology student who took us right to Macks Inn - no need for antidepressants.

We spent about five days hiking through Yellowstone NP and the surrounding area. It was not nearly as glamorous as I thought it would be as much of the trail goes through the heart of the 1988 fires. I realize we're supposed to be amazed with all the new growth and greenery etc.. but to be honest it's still a pretty bleak landscape. However, the geysers and other thermal features were amazing! Shoshone Basin was particularly awesome as we got there right at sunset. There were about 30 hot springs with steam coming off them and geysers shooting up next to us out of oddly shaped silacaceuous mounds - it was spectacular. Otherwise, hiking through the park was hot, dry and dusty! One of the cool side benefits of the fine dust that covers everything throughout the park is that animal tracks stand out very well - which means you know a lot more about what's around you than you might want to. We followed several large sets of grizzly tracks (some with cubs), one pair of wolf tracks (as big as my hand), and lots of weasel-type tracks.

On the night that we left YNP and entered the Teton Wilderness we followed one particularly fresh set of bear tracks going the opposite direction up over a hill. We camped in a clearing on the other side of the hill right at dusk. While I was cooking dinner and Jerome was washing up in the river, I happened to look up in the direction of our tarp. That's when I noticed the lanky dark object about 100 ft from our tarp, at first I thought, "oh, another rock that looks like a bear", and then I thought - in quick succession - "shit, it is a bear - it's a cub - where's its mom - we're not sleeping here tonight - HEY JEROME WHERE'S THE BEAR SPRAY?!." It was pretty dark at that point and we didn't think that hiking further down the trail would make us any safer, but we didn't feel like sleeping 50 feet from a grove of trees that was possibly harboring a mother and cub grizzly, so we moved our tarp across the river about 1/4 mile, made the best bear-hang yet for our food, and called it a night - sort of. Due to the lack of light, Jerome picked a particularly humocky tarp site on a hillside, and we spent a lot of time that night rolling out of the tarp and groggily wiggling our way back into the tarp and on to our sleeping mats. The next morning (achy and still very tired) we woke up to a thick frost - and solidly frozen water bottles, but no sign of bears, fortunately they were warm enough without us.

Yesterday's hike south toward Togwotee Pass was particularly scenic. Though we woke up to a thunderstorm, the skies cleared and we got very hot as we climbed up over several 2,000 ft passes. Coming up to one pass (filled with a broad marsh) I saw the biggest bull moose I've ever seen (Alaska sized), we looked at each other with the same expression of surprise (we were about 30 feet away from each other) and I quickly backed down the hill toward Jerome (who was going slowly because he was nursing a bloody nose due to the altitude and dryness). When we came back over the hill, the moose had moved into the woods - it's amazing how well camouflaged they can be even when they are only a few feet away! We also saw what we think was a pair of sandhill cranes . The bird's raucous call and gangly body are so contrary to its perfectly synchronized, gliding flight. Another fun bird sighting was a pair of short-eared owls that we encountered a few nights ago. We noticed them at a distance at first but than they started swooping over us as we were cooking dinner - Jerome, convinced that he's heard of people being attacked by owls, decided no to risk it and dove for the tarp. While I washed up I kept noticing them getting closer and closer to my head with each eerily silent swoop - soon I got nervous too and took cover with Jerome!

The landscape changed dramatically in the last couple of days and we really feel like we're in Wyoming now - big layer-cake, conglomerate rock pinnacles line the horizon, and vast open parks and pointy fir trees fill the broad glacial valleys. It's been very dry here for the last eight years or so, and we definitely feel like we're in the desert. The vegetation is brown and dusty, and the water is becoming greener and less palatable - which is very unfortunate because we sent our water filter back to PUR a few weeks ago, and forgot to get more iodine in Old Faithful - however we did just order a new water filter that should get us through the worst of the desert pot holes further south.

We are both really enjoying hiking these days. It helps that our route - on and off trail - has been easier to follow, and that we are finally in good hiking shape and acclimatized to the altitude (about 9,000 ft.) We are still trying to find a pace that we both do well with - but otherwise we have settled into a daily routine - up around 7am, cold cereal for breakfast, on the trail by 8am (it's too cold in the morning to start earlier!). Hike at a sporadic pace for a few hours, and finally second breakfast around 11am (cheese and crackers, sometimes moose jerky or summer sausage, peanut butter, gorp, wasa with honey). Hike a steadier pace for a few more hours until first lunch (pretty much the same food as second breakfast.) Hike until 4pm or so, re-calculate where we can make it before dark (around 8:50pm these days), and eat pre-dinner. Hike a fast 3-4 mile an hour pace for another 3 hours or so and find a good camping spot (preferably close to moving water) by 8pm. Once we're in camp we wash off quickly so we can put on our warm clothes, then Jerome pitches the tarp and I cook dinner. We anxiously wait for the food to cool, and finally eat our last meal of the day - usually in the dark. In the tent we stretch a little, write in our journals and plan the next days route. . .asleep by 10:30 pm.

We're headed into the Wind River Range next, and then onto the Great Divide Basin.

August 30, Great Divide Basin, Wyoming

Right now there are millions of moths whapping my forehead at high velocity. The fact that there are insects out and about proves that it is much warmer down here in the desert.

We bought used bikes in Lander yesterday - John at the Free Wheel bike shop really helped us out, stayed open late, tuned our rigs, and gave us lots of pessimistic support for the venture. We decided trying to hike the Great Divide Basin after a five year drought, along yucky dirt roads, and with temperatures in the 90's didn't sound fun. So we rigged up the bikes with milk crates and bought a couple of gallons of water. We managed to hitch a ride back to South Pass with our bikes (no small miracle) and wobbled off down the road yesterday afternoon around 3pm. The first few hours were pretty funny as we tried to figure out how to balance our loads, steer, and avoid dislocating our butt-bones. The landscape here is sublime, and it is hard to catch the details of the desert landscape whizzing by on a bike. The sunset last night was amazing [see below] and a whole group of wild horses went running right by us. My friend Tess says the horses damage the local flora as much as the cattle do, but unless they have literally grazed this desert into oblivion already (definitely possible) we can't figure out what any animal would eat out here, even the sage brush is less than 3 inches tall.

September 2, South of Wamsutter, Wyoming

The curse of Wamsutter. We got a ride two miles from Wamsutter because after biking 80 miles on a dirt road we still couldn't find a place to legally camp and it was dark. This amazing family picked us up and put our bikes on the back of their truck (an oil field chemical spray truck) and talked our ears off the whole ride (made longer because they only drive their truck about 20 mph). They had four kids - all named after Wyoming towns, and all stuffed into the cab of the truck. They loved telling us all about life on the oil fields. The parents have worked as rig pigs, sprayers etc. since 1982. They reluctantly dropped us off in Wamsutter (a truck stop off I-80) where we found a very cheap and very decrepit motel room. We were grateful for the shower despite the extremely alkaline water. This morning, after a very authentic mexican breakfast at the only diner/gas station in town, we padded up our bike seats with towels and wash clothes taped down with an entire roll of tape, and headed off down the road toward Encampment. Unfortunately I discovered last night that I left my warm shirt at the gas station in Wamsutter. So this morning we hitched the 40 miles north back to our favorite trail town to pick up my shirt, and than hitched all the way back to our stashed bikes. It is windy and dusty and hot here, and the road has no shoulder. Biking is extremely uncomfortable (chafing! bruising!). We are headed to Briggs, 25 miles away, for lunch and shade.

September 24 - 26, The final few days in and around Salida, Colorado

Tuesday - We hiked down from Hancock Pass this afternoon. A chilly south western wind blasted our faces as we descended into a quiet forested valley toward Boss Lake. We hiked well after dark the last two nights but tonight we were sure we'd get to the road before dark and make it down to Salida for a hot dinner and a soft (warm!) bed. Well some of our wished came true . . . As we were hiking down the dirt road to the main road a big diesel truck rumbled up and a weather-beaten man poked his head out and asked where we were headed. After some conversation he invited us to join his enormous K-9 german sheppard in the back for a ride back up to a pair of Forest Service cabins that we had walked by about a mile back. He promised his wife would make us dinner and that we would enjoy a warm night in the cabins - he also offered to drive us down to their house for showers in the morning. How could we refuse John and his wife Maureen's hospitality?

Well soon after we had some burgers and chicken on the grill, I was talking to Maureen about the abundant mouse scat and casually mentioned a story about how I once woke up with a mouse stuck in my hair. Well Maureen wasn't thrilled with the prospect of the same thing happening to her, and ten minutes after packing up the TV (with DVD player) the generator, the dirt bike, the german shepherd and several half cooked pieces of meat, we were all headed back down the road toward town.

As we lumbered noisily down the road, we pieced together snippets of John and Maureen's life. John was a career fire fighter in D.C. and was one of the fire fighters that rescued survivors the the Pan Am flight that crashed into the Potomac in the middle of winter in the early 80's. He performed a score of other heroic rescues over the years but since retirement has also had a number of run-ins with the law. All of this "experience" has given John lots of character and lots of good stories. Maureen has her own story as well, but this is best left for the book (and a signed release). Both of them filled us in on the local gossip, and we got some good laughs over the Poncha Springs daily paper the Mountain Mail. The police beat in particular, which features some of the not so lawful exploits of the ex-second sheriff-current jail warden, was very entertaining and informative.

Wednesday - After a not so restful night (both Jerome and I are very sensitive to cigarette smoke) we got a ride into Salida around noon where we finally picked up our mail and got some fresh groceries. After a slow afternoon of debating new shoes (Charlotte's feet were "wrecked" as her cousin-in-law Ray would say) and a new sleeping pad (Jerome's hips were "wrecked" as well), we abandoned hope of making it back up to Monarch Pass by nightfall. Though we had invitations to stay with either John and Maureen or the woman at the outdoor store for a second night in town, we decided we needed a very quiet and less social place to stay - we desperately needed sleep! As we walked down the street contemplating our situation, a guy biked by and turned around to ask us where we were hiking. Soon we had a third invitation to spend the night. We were both thinking that we'd never been to such a hospitable town! But just in case, we grilled our potential host "Do you smoke? Do you drink? Is the place quiet?" We felt a bit ridiculous, and definitely not as grateful as we should be under the circumstances. However, in the end we were assured of a very quiet private bed in a camper behind his house, for which, come bedtime, we were very grateful! We spent the evening talking with Josh and his girlfriend Kate. Both Jerome and I were having second thoughts about finishing the hike all the way to Mexico. Over the past week we had gotten progressively more exhausted and just weren't bouncing back the way we did earlier on the trail. I began to wonder how much further I should hike given the tenderness of my feet (a stress fracture and some plantar fasciatis). Jerome was feeling generally wiped out both physically and emotionally. We were feeling progressively less inspired, and leaning hard on our egos to keep us going. Kate and Josh were great listeners, and told us their own stories about when they had doubted their own motives to complete specific goals. Simply hearing from other people that it would be "ok" to stop hiking, created a huge shift in our mentality, and that night we agreed that we would hike six more days to Creede and decide during that time if we should continue south from there.

Thursday - Josh and Kate dropped us off at Monarch Pass at 8AM. It was very foggy and snowing lightly. We went into the cafeteria at the top of the pass to finish our breakfast inside (it was COLD out!). The owner wouldn't let us eat inside so I ate my canned peaches sitting outside against the stone wall trying not to get too wet from the thickly falling snow. Just as I went inside to throw my can away and get ready to hike, a man came rushing in. "Does anyone hear speak spanish? There's been a 15-passenger van accident a half mile down the road". I leapt up (I was an EMT for six years, and I speak spanish) and the man drove me down to the accident site. In the meantime Jerome stayed behind and watched the cafe owner nearly get in a fist fight with another person trying to help with the accident victims. The owner yelled at the man "Don't bring those illegals in here, it's the damn rich bastards in Aspen that hire them, and they're the ones who should pay for this, not me!" Fortunately, those of us down at the van didn't hear this, and because it was snowing hard by now, and the 15 victims were wearing t-shirts and flip flops, we piled them all into various trucks and SUV's and brought them up to the cafeteria. Confronted by several badly injured and extremely bloody patients the cafeteria owner was helpless. We quickly turned the cafeteria into a triage station. It would take the ambulance half an hour to arrive. It turned out that the passengers were Brazilians on their way from Phoenix to New Jersey (?), and actually spoke Portuguese. Surprisingly, this wasn't as much of a problem as it sounds. I stood on a chair and yelled triage directions (in spanish) - "Really really injured people sit at this table, less injured people sit at this table, and if you have absolutely nothing wrong, sit over there!" A second ex-EMT woman was there as well (she had gloves and other supplies) and by the time the ambulance arrived we had stabilized most of the life-threatening injuries (crushed arms, severe bleeding, pelvic fractures etc.) It was this ambulance crews' first mass casualty event, but they did an OK job. One thing that really surprised me was the amount of racism we observed throughout the whole event. It took about three hours to treat and transport all of the victims with two ambulances going back and forth from Salida (20 miles away). Both Jerome and I felt pretty sure that had it been a van of white retired bird watchers, a second crew would have been called in with extra supplies and transportation, (but truthfully, we don't really know what resources were available at the time). I spent a lot of time collecting names, ages, and medical backgrounds, and interpreting "random distress signals" from the patients such as "Hey, stop kicking my ankle, it really hurts" (this from a young women who was strapped to a backboard on the floor). All in all it was a very satisfying experience - I felt very useful and was allowed to provide any care that I could. I also felt confident that within a matter of months all 15 would be completely physically healed (and hopefully somewhere safe).

After the last patient was packed onto the ambulance, we cleaned up the pools of blood, rearranged the tables, and it looked like new. Within minutes tourists were coming in who could have never guessed what had just happened. Jerome and I sat in the corner of the building (ignoring the glares of the owner) and discussed what to do next. It was blizzarding out by now, and the temperature was dropping. The trail started at 11,300 ft and gained elevation steadily for the next 20 miles or so. My eyes were twitching with fatigue, and we were just sitting against the wall in silence. Finally Jerome said "I don't want to walk, I think I'm done". I was looking forward to being out on the trail again (especially after our particularly eventful town stop), but I knew I wouldn't enjoy being wet and cold, and my new sneakers were not made for hiking in deep snow. Neither was our tarp, or our sleeping bag, or our stove. We quickly realized that if we were going to continue hiking we would require much more substantial winter gear - it was now officially winter in the high Rockies. Adding that much weight to our packs would slow our hiking pace significantly, as well as add stress to our already stressed bodies (especially feet). So with that knowledge, we headed outside, took a picture in front to the highway sign, and flagged down the first car on its way to Salida.

We got a ride with a couple from Newfoundland (I was delighted to discover that they knew the "Betta buy bawn" jingle - Downeast Maine and Newfoundland apparently share the same TV adds). It turned out they were driving all the way to Denver, and invited us to join them. So, four hours later we found ourselves hiking down the streets of the State Capitol - whoa... A short bus ride later and we were hiking to our friends house in Boulder to spend the night.

It has been a long and slow week readjusting, confronting the successes and failures of our trip, resisting the urge to hop back on the trail (it is snowing in Boulder tonight), and trying to carve a niche in the urban world.

We are both looking forward to hiking the southern part of the trail at some point, and we are both very grateful for the perspective all of the events and people we met leading up to our final day. They gave us the perspective we needed to respect our limits and make the right decision. It's really the first time I've ended something like this before accomplishing the stated goal, it is both incredibly confusing, and also a huge relief. Its as if my life has been trying to say something to me for a long time now, and finally I am starting to listen. Jerome, who has not historically chosen to challenge himself as much as I have, feels that the three months on the trail taught him that there can be a healthy balance between proactive decision making and contemplative examination. The greatest part of hiking together is that we had a lot of time to discuss and examine our ways of being in the world, and to help each other help accept what that means.