This is all interfering with my path toward hermithood

I've been thinking about trail events.  Trail Days (or Trail Daze as the smoker crowd thinks of it), Trail Dames Summit, The Gathering, the AT Kickoff, and a few more.  They're for people who love the trail and want to hike.

I love the trail, and I hike.  "Want to" doesn't so much come into it.  Every one of these events that I go to means time and money taken away from actual hiking, which is what I like to do when I have time and money.

The only real reason for me to go to hiking events is to see friends that I've made along the way.  I am almost completely uninterested in the activities associated with them.  I don't want to square dance.  I don't want to sit in a class room.  I don't want to be lectured yet again on "Leave No Trace".  (I'm pretty sure I learned that one as a six year old in Camp Fire.  Although I would like somebody to explain to me how we're supposed to dig 6-8" holes in caliche, or rocky soil, or through rhododendron roots.  So far everybody just pretends that trowel is doing the job, or they give up and claim that if bears shit in the woods, so can they.  It's only natural, right?  Not.  I do my best with the trowel but seriously we need like a Star Wars light saber setup.  Or something. Maybe a backhoe.)

On the other hand, I can't exactly round up fifty of my favorite hikers and go backpacking with them.  That's not good backcountry practice.  You need to move about in much smaller parties - definitely under ten.

Maybe it's that I'm not now, and never have been a party girl.  Nor do I like mandatory fun.  I just like to go do my own thing and enjoy whatever happens.

I like hiking.  I like hikers.  I just don't like "events".  I think my ideal gathering would be a bunch of folks just hanging out with nothing scheduled other than perhaps some meals.

Although, I must say, if it weren't for hiking I wouldn't have spent any part of my evening doing this:

It felt like thousands of tiny needles.  Or being licked relentlessly by a kitten.

the hike between Bear's Den and Harper's Ferry having kicked my butt in the foot.  It was still a bit sore today (despite my not hiking this weekend!) so the chiro hooked me up for a few minutes.  I'm hoping it will be happy soon.

Ultralight Women's Gear: Only In My Mind

I've been thinking about ultralight backpacking gear.  As one does.

I love my Zpacks Exo pack in most ways, BUT it pokes me in the butt.  I emailed Joe Valesko and he's offered to modify the pack for me.  I may take him up on that.  Only problem is, I don't know if the modification I have in mind (shortening the pack frame so it ends before my butt starts) will really do it.  The pack needs to be braced on my pelvis, and shortening the frame means it won't.  With no bracing on the pelvis, it's pretty much a frameless pack again.  Me and frameless packs don't get along so well.  I've tried.  Seriously, I've tried.  I've hiked hundreds of miles in frameless packs.  And I've had seriously achy shoulders.  And an achy back, for that matter - my back does much better when it's stabilized by the pack frame.

Other options might be using a metal frame and curving it away from the pelvis (but metal is heavier, and a curved frame involves more complicated sewing in the pack I think), using a V frame so the point is at the less  voluptuous center of the spine, or adding cushioning around the tips of the frame (again more weight and more sewing).  Or other things.  I don't know, I'm just spitballing here.

I don't think I've run into a woman specific ultralight pack yet.  And there really needs to be one.  More than one, even.  We have proportionally bigger hips.  We store fat in our butts which means they protrude out the back, interfering with traditional frames.  Our shoulders are narrower and less muscled, which means that the straps pretty much HAVE to sit closer to our necks and therefore closer to the nerves emerging from the spine. (Ow.) Our torsos are shorter, not even taking into account the butt thing.  Our breasts interfere with both the shoulder straps and the sternum strap.  (For a number of years I used TWO sternum straps - one above my breasts, and one below.  It kept the pack more tightly strapped to my torso.)

Of course not all women are shaped the same.  Women who are shaped effectively like boys can use a man's pack with no problem.  Apple shaped women will have breast issues but probably no hipbelt issues.  Pear shaped women will need the larger hipbelts but won't have as many breast interference issues.  All the Marilyn Monroes out there will have problems with both.

It would be helpful if I could sew.  Or design things.  Mostly all I can do is try things on and say if they'll work.  And generally I can't even do that quickly, because it takes a few hours or even a few days before a pack really begins to sag into its final position.

The last is why trying something on in the store isn't that helpful.  It's not like I can try on a shirt and know right away if it fits or not. Backpacks CHANGE.  They bulge, they sag, they shift.  You really have to use one in field conditions to know if it works for you.  For the same reason, I'm reluctant to ask for modifications to the packs I already have.  I have no way of knowing if they'll improve the situation.  They might.  Or I might end up with a completely unusable pack, rather than a slightly painful one.

Being homeless = :(

I didn't hit yoga tonight.  I felt a little too pitiful, with cramps and nausea.  A bean burrito and a couple of beers set me right.  (Go figure.)  And I've been doing extra yoga this week anyway.  Mostly because I had to. I got a freaky pain in one arm that (according to Marsha) is likely due to a pinched nerve.  So I was stretching away, doing the towel under the neck thing, and not doing upper body work to avoid aggravating it.  And so far so good.  I had the opportunity to get adjusted today and skipped it, so I hope agonizing pain doesn't come back over the weekend.

I had been thinking about getting "my" thruhiker a flat rate box in which to send a care package, and today I finally got off my duff and did it.  I'll put it in the mail tomorrow.  I hope he likes it!  The care packages I got last year were a huge big deal to me.  Out on the trail, you spend so much time alone that any contact with somebody who actually cares is enormous.  So, Goose, I hope you like it as much as I liked mine last year.  If not, spread the wealth.

I was thinking today about thruhiking (as one does.)  It's very hard on the body, of course.  One day of hiking is no big deal.  One week of hiking is a lot.  One month of hiking starts to turn you into a hiking machine.  Three months of hiking starts to see serious wear and tear on your joints, your skin, and your equipment.  Many thruhikes have been ended prematurely due to ACL tears, broken ankles, giardia, Lyme disease, and other afflictions common to those getting physical in the great outdoors.

I think, though, that the biggest strain of thruhiking is emotional.  Very few hikers have a partner the whole way.  Those who do, may not actually *like* their partner the whole way.  Spending 24x7 with someone doing something strenuous is pretty stressful.  When the reason you are doing it is internal, and you may have different reasons for doing it, conflicts can arise.  I want to take time off to rest and heal, and you want to push your physical limits.  I want to get to the shelter 20 miles away, and you want to stay in this pretty glen.  I need to be done by September 15 and you need to be done by October 11.  Hiking with somebody else is tricky.

So a lot of people end up hiking alone.  Not ALONE alone, there are still people out there.  But with no constant companion.  That can be a very lonely thing.  Most of us are used to having a home.  Being set adrift is alienating.  It leaves you feeling lonely and at a loss, for no readily definable reason.  Sometimes you just want to see someone and have them already know your name.

Home doesn't have to be much.  It can range from a full on mansion to a townhouse to an apartment to a trailer.  It doesn't matter.  Everybody knows what home feels like, and it's a good thing.  "Coming home" every night to a place where you feel you belong is such a subtle and accepted thing that I doubt you ever think about it until you don't have a home anymore.  It can be freeing.  But it means that you never get the feeling of safety and security every night that most people take for granted.

Not all hikers are truly homeless, of course.  I had a home to go to.. I just wasn't anywhere near it.  My tent or my spot on the shelter floor was my home every night.  I got used to it, but it definitely did not leave me feeling as safe and warm and welcome as coming to my house every night.  I woke up when coyotes howled, when trees creaked, when thunder rumbled.  When I was camped with friends I got a fleeting sense of security from the mass of humanity around me.  Even one hiker (Cody!  Miss you!) was enough.  But I spent a great deal of time alone on my hike, and it was hard.  I had no idea how hard it would be until I did it.  It wasn't enough to make me quit, but I did recognize the strain.

I know I will encounter this feeling again.  And I know there are thruhikers out there right now experiencing it.  Keep it up, my friends.  It is not a comfortable feeling.  But it is worth it to experience it.  It may make you more appreciative of friends and family.  It may help you reach out to strangers with a smile and a kind word.  It may help you appreciate humanity.