An Unorthodox Approach

 From what I can gather, the motto of the Pacific Crest Trail is "Hike Your Own Hike," meaning don't try to keep up with the proverbial Joneses.  Hike at your own pace, experience your own version of the trail.  I'm generally good with doing my own thing, living my life at my own pace, and feel confident in the decisions I make.  And then I started reading other peoples' blogs about the PCT.  Holy crap.....
 January was brutally cold for a brutally long period of time in Interior Alaska.  While wiling away hours and days at a time with brief, bundled excursions outside, I had plenty of time to start thinking about the Pacific Crest Trail which, until then, had been this faraway goal:  something I told myself and others that I was going to do, but had not researched or planned.  It's just a backpacking trip, right? The extent of my research for the PCT had been to ask my friend Scott, who thru-hiked it in 2010, if it was safe to do as a solo woman.  He said absolutely, go for it....my decision was made with no more thought.  So with more than enough time on my hands in January I thought I'd browse the interwebs for pictures of the trail to get glimpses of the country I will be walking through and to remind myself that it would not always be so barbarically cold and dark and snowy. 
 I went to the official Pacific Crest Trail Association's website and found some awesome photos.  Now it's starting to feel real, I thought.  Then I noticed a "journals" tab and thought I'd peruse some peoples' reflections of their trail experience.  I found some well-written chronicles from years past as well as some narratives that freaked me the f@#k out.  The alarming compositions I found were journals written by people who are also attempting the PCT endeavor in 2012.  They hadn't even set foot on the trail and they were already blogging and the start of the hike was yet 4 months away!! What??!!! I'm not kidding you I read (read: skimmed) accounts of ounce by ounce gear purchases and considerations.  Menu tests.  Physical training regimens designed for professional athletes.  Weight loss tactics to pare down before kickoff.  Equipment tests designed for the Navy SEALS. I thought I was doing some early preparatory measures just by looking at a website........
  Those of you who know me well know that I am not a planner.  I'm an outliner.  I like to have a loose stratagem of what is going on, but I do not need to know what is going to happen on a day to day, hour by hour basis.  For example:  my vacation planning consists of buying a plane ticket.  I mean, I know I'm going to be in Louisiana (for example) what more do I need to know?? How do I know in advance if I'm going to want to stop at the boudain shop and who I might meet there who might tell me of a Cajun band playing down the road at a speakeasy?? You just never know what opportunities life will present you, particularly if you are open to them. Last year I packed all my food and gear for a 15-day ski trip in the Arctic in one day.  I'm not necessarily promoting this approach to life, just trying to explain that this is the way I function.  I tend toward procrastination.  I tend toward unscheduled adventure.  I tend toward seeing what happens along the way.  I tend towards going with the flow.
  I realize that different people are going to have different approaches to the same undertaking.  I know my style and I know plenty of people who are planners and preparers.  I don't feel either approach is right or wrong, I just think people function within different comfort zones and there are different degrees of these modus operandi.  I can get frustrated with planners just as I probably can drive them crazy too.  That's just life. 
  Maybe it was the -40 degree temperatures.  Maybe it was the incredibly short days.  I don't know how to explain it, but somehow reading the blogs of all these planners, dieters, detail-oriented fellow hikers I began to get worried.  I became paranoid that I wasn't doing enough to get ready for this hike.  That all my gear was way to heavy because I could have shaved ounces here or there.  That I didn't research every piece of equipment thoroughly enough.  I should be freaking out right about now.
  But then I came to my senses.  I've been walking this Earth long enough to know that this is how I function.  That, for me, I am planning, thinking ahead, and ready for this epic adventure.  I know my experience and my physical capabilities.  Barring injury or insanity, I can totally walk 2,650 miles this summer.  Maybe my pack will be heavier than Joe Blow's, but it will still be lighter than what I'm accustomed to carrying.  It's all relative, right? I can adjust my situation once I'm on the trail too....I'll just see how it goes.  As usual.

Cajun Mardi Gras run in Eunice, LA: a costume, chasing chickens thru sugar cane fields, and beer for breakfast.  Not your typical PCT preparations.

 SO, my training regimen for the Pacific Crest Trail has consisted of a 3-week vacation to Austin for honky tonkin',  Louisiana for Cajun food, music, and Mardi Gras (I gained at least 5 pounds), Seattle for Wintergrass bluegrass festival, and Juneau for more music and good times.  The most exercise I got was on a dance floor and walking to the drive-thru daiquiri shop in Lafayette.  Now that I'm home in Cantwell I'm back to daily cross-country skiing and the general physicality that it takes to live here, have a ski race planned to participate in, and a week-long ski trip with the Denali Ladies Ski Club at the end of the month.  I'm not, however, walking everywhere I go with a 25 pound pack on my back, just for practice. It's just not how I roll. And I'm not going to feel paranoid about it.  I'm going to start the PCT with a few extra pounds on my waistline and a blank slate.  To each our own and to each our own hike.