a kingdom built of seeds

The longest backpacking trip I’ve done to date is eight days in the Patagonia region of Chile, averaging around 10 miles a day when it was all said and done. Now, I’m planning to thru-hike New Zealand’s north island for at least two months, hoping to average more like 15-18 miles a day during the 1,000 mile trek.

I keep asking myself: Am I crazy? For the seasoned thru-hiker, it’s not so far-fetched. For me? Yes, just a little. Then there’s this: Why am I doing this? Walking for more than two months straight through various landscapes, in variable conditions, battling unpredictable weather? I don’t have a clear answer, as to the “why” of it. The first time someone mentioned Te Araroa (“the long path”) in passing, there was that internal spark (do you know it?). “Hm, maybe I could do that.” The idea didn’t flame out (as many of mine do), but grew, or at least remained steady.

So I bought a plane ticket.

I had never before considered a strenuous commitment like a thru-hike—the AT, CDT, or PCT. “That’s too much for me,” I always thought. And then this idea was planted, and blossomed. I currently have six months off annually, and two or three ski seasons of 100+ days the past few years. I love being on snow. But I got to thinking about it. There’s more to life than 100-day ski seasons. I won’t ever get this time back, and I don’t want to live out the same routine year after year, or for as long as I’m blessed with this freedom to go. For some reason, the change-up is a thru-hike (or, the first part of one; I hope to complete the south island next year).

More clearly answered than “am I crazy” and “why am I doing this” is what I want out of it. Throughout my life so far I’ve mainly been a gut-follower, led by intuition. My gut, my intuition, are leading me this way, this time—across the Pacific to walk the 1,800 mile length of New Zealand.

So, what do I want out of it? I want to learn physical grit and mental fortitude, get in over my head and rely on commitment and endurance to get me through. There’s always anxiety and fear when I set out for new or unknown places and experiences. This is no exception. I know I can’t be the only one who asks myself, secretly:  Do I have what it takes? I imagine that you too have asked yourself the same question. I find myself somewhat insecure and a little overwhelmed when I think about the two months or more as a whole. The beauty or lesson of thru-hiking—of life, no doubt—is that it’s only one step at a time. Just take that first step, and the next, and then the next, until you’re finished, reaching your hard-won goal. It’s that simple, though no less terrifying.

I might not complete it. I may hate it, be miserable, quit halfway through. I might certainly fail. And these are all terrible reasons for not trying something new and different and out of the ordinary, for not taking on a personal challenge. (This is mine; what’s yours?) How often do we assume defeat before we ever begin, frustrated and disappointed and hopeless without even trying? I have; I do. So I’m going to throw myself into something mentally difficult and physically demanding and generally uncomfortable, learning (hopefully) resolve and follow-through from one of the best teachers—perseverance.

You don’t learn from life abstractly, but through action and experience. Personally, I’m going to throw myself into the thick of a thru-hike (my present version of action and experience) to learn whatever it has to teach me.

What does throwing yourself into the thick of it look like for you? The smallest personal change or challenge might shake you out of paralysis or wake you from complacency.

You certainly don’t grow or change by sitting around and waiting for the lesson to magically appear, do you? It meets you when you move.