And now the rest of the story...
Everyone in a backpacker camp looks a little bit like a serial killer because many of them have been on the trail for many days without showers of a clean pair of clothes. They are unshaven, and emotionally deep inside themselves because of the hours of solitude on the trail. It took some time then, to figure out just who was okay to talk to and who was not. In the end, it turns out, everyone was okay to talk to and had a story or two to share about their journey. As is the case even in the city, breaking the ice is usually the toughest part.
I finally set my sights on a guy who looked alot like Eddie Vedder, the lead singer of Pearl Jam, who was quietly enjoying a bottle of wine by himeself near the campfire. His name was Michael and he and his hiking partner Alex had hiked the same route that Trevor and I were about to embark on, except in reverse. We learned that they had finished a little early and were waiting for some friends to deliver their car so they could get back to civilization.
Of course, neither Michael nor Alex were in any hurry whatsoever.
Trevor and I soaked in story after story about their travels. We were so inexperienced that we didn't really know what to expect, but after hearing about a 125 pound man who had a 90 lb pack (He nearly fell over every time he tried to put it on), or a man who washed his underwear in the lake each night, only to wake up with it frozen solid, we figured that we would probably find a way to survive. Perhaps most interesting to us was the fact that they had overpacked and decided to discard some of their gear half way through the trip. Because this would be our experience as well.
But where I would ultimately discard some of my more extravagant items (like 100 ft of rope, some clothes, extra band-aids and a 5 gallon water container), there was one item that I would be unwilling to discard of ever...
My Hatchet.
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