Seth Speaks

It’s been a rainy day in Philadelphia, and my strained Soleus muscle prevented me from running. So, I walked an 8 mile loop in the rain and thought about ethics. I remembered a cute aphorism from Philosophy class in college:

“Imagine I approach a stranger on the street and say to him. “If you please sir, I desire to perform an experiment with your aid.” The stranger is obliging, and I lead him away. In a dark place conveniently by, I strike his head with the broad of an axe and cart him home. I place him, buttered and trussed, in an ample electric oven. The thermostat reads 450 F. Thereupon I go off forget all about the obliging stranger in the stove. When I return, I realize that I have overbaked my specimen, and the experiment, alas, is ruined.
Something has been done wrong. Or something wrong has been done.
Any ethic that does not roundly condemn my action is vicious. It is interesting that none is vicious for this reason. It is also interesting that no more convincing refutation of any ethic could be given than by showing that it approved of my baking the obliging stranger.”
-William Gass

Well, last week’s spring break did not kick off to an auspicious start. I may have been the bowling, or the run up vail mountain, but I managed to strain my Soleus muscle. This little nugget of flesh underlies my calf muscle, and therefore underlies my entire self worth. The plans Maureen and I had for a long hike and bike ride rendered null and void. Bummer. So, we decided to make a week of it anyway, and ended up touring south of Shenandoah National Park. We stopped by the Copper Fox Distillery – producers of a notorious Virginia produced American Single Malt Whiskey. Driving down a series of winding dirt roads, we approached a nondescript warehouse and immediately precieved the sweet, rich smell of freshly malted barley. As it turns out, Wassmund’s harvests barley locally, and malts it on site. Here, you can see raw barley soaking in water:

A lot of the breweries I’ve been to have really strict hygiene standards.  But, in a distillery, the yeast generates a huge volume of alcohol and heat immediately, and when it’s distilled there isn’t a germ around that has a chance.  The fermentation vat is open, and the distiller gave it a stir right in front of us:

Next, we checked out the barrel room, where barrels of whiskey are laid down to age and mellow.  The entire room smelt of whiskey and warm wood – positively reeking of vanilla, oak and maple syrup.  The incredible thing was amazing resembelence the ambient aroma of the room had the aroma of the Wassmund’s Whiskey I’ve had in the past.  Seriously – the smell was immediately recognizable.

Alcohol tourism as an acceptable substitute to athletic adventure?  I’ll reserve judgment until after my headache fades….

Last night, after some focused discussions, I decided to run up the “hill” from the house I’m staying in. The “hill” is a 500+ foot incline that streches about 2 miles. As I plodded up, I caught a draft of something quintessentially western – the smell of sage in the evening. To me – it smells of the whole west. Cowboy hats, “complex” attitudes about mineral extraction, big mountains, ski towns, lonley high desert, all of it wrapped into one complex aroma. It smells a bit fresh, a bit minty, but also profoundly earthy, and vaguely dank. It’s like a wad of old herbs stored in a basement right before a thunderstorm. I resolve to grab a fistful to take home with me, so at least my backpack will smell of the western frontier.

So, yesterday, I went snowshoeing again.  I’m finding it oddly easy. The snowshoes I remember from years ago – the ones that looked like badminton rackets,  seemed to make it harder to walk.  They tended to tangle, and mad you adopt a goofy “cowboy” stance.  Now, newer snowshoes make walking on snow seem like walking on a sidewalk.  It’s unnerving how easy it seems.

I’m digging snowshoeing for a couple of reasons.  One – snowshoes allow you access to the deep woods in the winter.  Here is the view heading up a well-used trail near Minturn.  I was immediately struck by the sun, which looked like a cold flare behind a thin screen of frozen cloud:

The trees, which my native Mainer knee-jerk identified as birch, are actually aspen.  For some reason older marks in trees don’t look like graffiti, they remind me of organic petroglyphs.

This hike made me think a lot about dogs on trails.  From my perspective, dogs represent un-needed complications in a lot of different areas of life, but on the other hand, they make life a lot more interesting and complicated.  Here is Cynthia enjoying the complexity of dogs on trails:

Sill, there were some moments of absolute scilence that only occur during the winter:

It was a great walk.  I resolve to walk in the winter ore often – in that stark, suppressed landscape.

I had a conversation with someone a few days ago about how appearances shape others’ perception of oneself. So, I have decided to compile:

My beard.

Various advantages of having a beard:

1. My neck is much warmer.  The thick mat of hair forms a “gasket” that keeps warm air from escaping from the neck of my shirts.
2. Homeless people have stopped asking me for change, and now offer it.
3. Store clerks watch me very closely.
4. At night, walking home, women will cross the street to avoid encountering me.
5. This one time, in New York City, an Ultra-Orthodox Jew looked at me with an expression that seemed to convey a feeling of recognition and dismay.  Like – “Dude, why are you are you even pretending you aren’t one of us?  That beard is a dead giveaway.”
6. People no longer ask me to buy weed.  Now they ask to buy weed from me.
7. I am “randomly” selected for screening every time I fly.
8. Hipsters say “Sweet beard, dude.”
9. Outdoorsy people say, “Wow. That’s a big beard dude.”
10. Girls say…nothing……..nothing at all…….and make pathetic attempts to not appear like they want to stare.
11.  I am no longer tempted to eat hummus, ice-cream, peanut butter, chili, or any other potential beard-clogging foodstuff.
12.  I am occasionally granted discounts in coffee shops, record stores, and outdoor stores.  I can only assume this is a “sweet beard, dude” discount.
13. On occasion, a complete stranger will ask to “pet” my beard.
14. The latter is more properly characterized as “creepy” and not “advantageous.”

15.  I left a movie to go to the bathroom.  Upon returning, I realized that I had forgotten my ticket stub.  The attendant looked at me and said, “Don’t worry about the ticket.  I saw you come in.”

This afternoon, I decided to hike up Vail Mountain for a little lark.  Well, a quite substantial lark actually – because the hike begins at about 8,000 feet and ends at well over 10,000.  It was a strange sensation walking up in snowshoes – my gait was wider than I’m used to and the thin air burned my lungs as it entered.

My hiking partner Patrick quit smoking not so long ago – and climbed like a machine:

As I turned around – I saw a pretty cool view in the growing shadow of the setting sun:

After more than 2 miles and 2,000 feet of climibing loose, poorly consolidated snow – we paused at the summit, and Carl, Uber-Athlete among all of us,  gloated for a moment;

The sun was racing down, and the air was in the low teens up there at the summit – but I could see the neighboring Beaver Creek Ski Area in the distance:

We took the lift down – and it wasn’t until we got to the car that I realized this was the first time I had ridden a ski lift without paying.  I suppose they figure if you’re willing to walk up – you get a free ride down.

Well, having been back from the Appalachian Trail for more than two months has given me some perspective on life.  I have come to an important conclusion: Not hiking is hazardous to the health.  Seriously.  I consider myself to be a pretty healthy guy – eating reasonably well, running 10 miles (!) a day, maintaining a positive attitude, but, compared to the radiant health I enjoyed on the AT, I am now a certifiable Metabolic Syndrome X sufferer!

Here are some examples of how the “conveniences” of so-called “modern life” are gradually ruining me.

Artificial Light: When I was hiking, I had a headlamp and a candle.  It got dark around 4:30 PM most evenings, so I would read by candlelight for a while, then fall asleep, usually around 7 PM.  I’d be up about an hour before dawn, usually awoken by raging hunger, after a rest-full 10-11 hours of sleep.   Now, I’m staying up too late every night, dilly-dallying about on the internet, reading, etc…and waking up ill-rested and cranky.

The Preponderance of Caffeine and Alcohol: Wow.  I really missed good coffee and good beer.  So much so that I am trying to make up for lost time apparently.  Not so much with the beer, I suppose, as with the coffee.  I am drinking nearly 2 pots a day, with no acute effects, but it can’t be good for me, and I’m sure the excess carbohydrates from the beer can’t be good either.

Jobs:   I am amazed at the amount of time people spend at work, talking about work, worrying about work, and resenting work.  I am not so naive as to assume, like Thoreau does, “that to maintain one’s self on this earth is not a hardship but a pastime,” but at the same time, I see so many that prioritize career over life that I begin to be depressed by the whole endeavor.  Being so recently satisfied with so little, it seems sad to me that many work so hard in service of the elaborate infrastructure required to maintain a modern life.

People: Damn, there are a lot of people in the world.  Pushing, rushing, ignoring – millions of ‘em, everywhere!  How have I simultaneously multiplied and reduced the quality of my interactions with others?  Now, instead of 1 meaningful conversation a week, I have 50 meaningless ones.

Hygenic Bathrooms: During my hike, I visited a tree at 6 AM every morning, like clockwork.  In snow, freezing rain, bright sun, hail, wind, thunder, mosquitoes, etc…it did not matter, my 6-6:05 timeslot was an ironclad ritual.  Now, with unlimited access to clean bathrooms, yards of toilet paper, running water, magazines, etc…there is nothing to keep me from wasting time, idling in the bathroom, when I should be doing something, anything else…

Distractions: When I first began my hike, I spent at least a week in “distraction withdrawal,” a pernicious condition characterized by hyper-vigilance, twitchyness, boredom, and exaggerated facility in recalling bad sitcom theme songs.  Hour-long mental replay of the theme-song from “The Greatest American Hero,” anyone?  But after a time, the mental noise quieted, and I began to relish the stillness.  Now, I have access to Pandora, GrooveShark, NPR, books, magazines, and the stillness I have relished so much is…fleeting.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad to be back, but some of these “advancements” just take a bit of getting used to.

Well – I’m back in “Civilization,”or what passes for it these days. I’m in Colorado, staying with some friends, and loving the thin air, sun, and attitude. People in Colorado seem fitter, nicer, and….healthier. It took more than 3 days to drive out from DC, and the winds in Kansas were so bad I had to keep the wheel turned hard to the right the whole state, just to stay on the road. I hope to follow up this entry with some thoughts on transitioning off the Appalachian Trail and into the “ordinary world.”

Well….it’s been a good hike. A more articulate update will likely have to wait until I’m off trail and have a chance to digest the experience. But for now I’m in Hot Springs, NC, having the time of my life. It’s the first day i’ve taken off entirely in quite some time, and i’m enjoying doing the myriad of little tasks that one does in ordinary life. More soon. For now, my tentative finishing date is December 13th-ish.

Seth Tours His Empty Apartment