I lost my camera during this trip. Pictures below are what I was able to scrounge up after camera loss from others and from the Internet. They may not be in perfect linear order yet. Written account coming soon. A quick summary is that this hike began in Glacier National Park, Montana, USA and ended at about the same latitude as Prince George, BC, Canada north of Jasper, AB. I hitch-hiked around a few sections due to time constraints and to make up for time lost due to an injury. I also hitchhiked back to Glacier NP to meet up with the Rocky Mountaineers of Missoula, MT for some mountain climbing.
Below is from an old write-up:
"Little boys love machines; girls adore horses; grown-up men and women like to walk." -Ed Abbey
"There is this to be said for walking: It's the one mode of human locomotion by which a man proceeds on his own two feet, upright, erect, as a man should be, not squatting on his rear haunches like a frog." -Ed Abbey
Because I know that all that's really important nowadays are the numbers, here are the grand totals: 505 miles walked (I had planned on about 700). The longest I went without seeing a human: 7 days. The longest I went without crossing a road, town, or any human artifact beside campsites: 16 days. The longest I wore the same clothes continuously (with very few changes of socks and underwear): 16. I think I had wet shoes for at least 5 days straight. Bear count: 15 (3 blacks and the rest griz), 1 wolf, a couple coyotes, a few moose, some porcupines, and the like.
Below is from an old write-up:
"Little boys love machines; girls adore horses; grown-up men and women like to walk." -Ed Abbey
"There is this to be said for walking: It's the one mode of human locomotion by which a man proceeds on his own two feet, upright, erect, as a man should be, not squatting on his rear haunches like a frog." -Ed Abbey
Because I know that all that's really important nowadays are the numbers, here are the grand totals: 505 miles walked (I had planned on about 700). The longest I went without seeing a human: 7 days. The longest I went without crossing a road, town, or any human artifact beside campsites: 16 days. The longest I wore the same clothes continuously (with very few changes of socks and underwear): 16. I think I had wet shoes for at least 5 days straight. Bear count: 15 (3 blacks and the rest griz), 1 wolf, a couple coyotes, a few moose, some porcupines, and the like.
Final thoughts: This hike was one of the most difficult and most wonderful things I have ever done. Never before have my senses been so engaged and my will so tested. I had known for some time that for the most part, civilization, and the technological shell which defines it, dull and negate the necessity for acute sensation, but I had never before experienced this fact as directly and forcefully. I became 'like the deer' - weary of my surroundings, aware of the slightest changes, ever broadening and deepening my perspective. This is the effect of a substantive length of time 'out there', especially alone. I realized more fully how our bodies are basically useless in this world. We need fingers to push buttons, and bodies to drape mass-manufactured, fashionable-for-today-gone-tomorrow clothing on. And for the disciplined among us whose bodies aren't completely wasting away in front of screens and filled with fast food, a bit of fun can be had in the form of recreation, whether in packed gyms or outside. In the wilds, I was reminded of my body - my body was everything. I can extend my hand in front of me and behold its mineness and its necessity. I was pulled into my body by my surroundings. I had to keep account always of where I was, what my body was doing. The bear threatened by body. I knew its claws could tear into my flesh, break my skull, ending my mortal career. I knew that life and death hung on the preservation of my body, thus my body recieved the great attention it deserved. I came back with fresh perspectives on everything. Along the way I read 'The Abstract Wild' by Jack Turner and 'The Monkey Wrench Gang' by Edward Abbey which combined with my experiences really affected me. I longed, futilely, to throw off the shackles of civilized life (to embrace the constraints of wilderness).
Often I would wake during the night and my heart would sort of skip a beat and the blood would rush to my head and I would recall where I was and what I was doing. The gravity of my situation was immense, especially when I was in the most remote sections. This 'gravity' is illustrated in a slogan I often repeated to myself whilst hiking, 'do or don't - but to fail is to die - thus do or die'. I was alone, carried no form of electronic communication (thus could not use satellites as a crutch [except regretfully the rare GPS use]), and thus my fate rested completely on my abilities and the conditions of the environment around me. This is the original condition of man. At the beginning of my hike I was scared of sounds, especially at night, but I gradually became used to it and attuned to what was truly threatening and what not. I confronted something raw and primal - the fear, the sensory engagement, the gravity, the beauty - I have come to realize that true wilderness is the rarest and one of the the most precious (somewhere behind direct confrontation with God and passionate sex) experiences on earth. I long for more.
"I think that I cannot preserve my health and spirits, unless I spend four hours a day at least - and it is commonly more than that - sauntering through the woods and over the hills and fields, absolutely free from all worldly engagements...When sometimes I am reminded that the mechanics and shopkeepers stay in their shops not only all the forenoon, but all the afternoon too, sitting with crossed legs, so many of them, - as if the legs were made to sit upon, and not to stand or walk upon, - I think they deserve some credit for not having all committed suicide long ago."
-H.D. Thoreau
"Methinks I am getting a little more strength into those knees of mine; and, for my part, I believe that God does delight in the strength of a man's legs."
- H.D. Thoreau
Often I would wake during the night and my heart would sort of skip a beat and the blood would rush to my head and I would recall where I was and what I was doing. The gravity of my situation was immense, especially when I was in the most remote sections. This 'gravity' is illustrated in a slogan I often repeated to myself whilst hiking, 'do or don't - but to fail is to die - thus do or die'. I was alone, carried no form of electronic communication (thus could not use satellites as a crutch [except regretfully the rare GPS use]), and thus my fate rested completely on my abilities and the conditions of the environment around me. This is the original condition of man. At the beginning of my hike I was scared of sounds, especially at night, but I gradually became used to it and attuned to what was truly threatening and what not. I confronted something raw and primal - the fear, the sensory engagement, the gravity, the beauty - I have come to realize that true wilderness is the rarest and one of the the most precious (somewhere behind direct confrontation with God and passionate sex) experiences on earth. I long for more.
"I think that I cannot preserve my health and spirits, unless I spend four hours a day at least - and it is commonly more than that - sauntering through the woods and over the hills and fields, absolutely free from all worldly engagements...When sometimes I am reminded that the mechanics and shopkeepers stay in their shops not only all the forenoon, but all the afternoon too, sitting with crossed legs, so many of them, - as if the legs were made to sit upon, and not to stand or walk upon, - I think they deserve some credit for not having all committed suicide long ago."
-H.D. Thoreau
"Methinks I am getting a little more strength into those knees of mine; and, for my part, I believe that God does delight in the strength of a man's legs."
- H.D. Thoreau