Trip Report
(Editor’s Note: The June potluck drew a full house of about 120 Obsidians and guests to our newly renovated lodge, with diners overflowing into the new Scherer Meeting Room and even the upstairs board room. In appreciation for his leadership and hard work on the construction project, John Jacobsen received a lot of praise, a framed photo of the lodge and an all expense paid trip to the coast for himself and wife Janet.)
The clean-shaven Rob Rathmann who presented at June’s potluck bore little resemblance to the Rob Rathmann we saw in an engaging slide show about the Pacific Crest Trail. The latter was long-locked, bearded and an often bedraggled young man. As anyone loaded down with a backpack on a 2,658-mile, 146-day foot journey would be.
With self-deprecating humor, Rathmann told a colorful tale of his transformation from a computer analyst who worked in a cubicle into a stalwart hiker. Vicariously, we joined him on an often spectacular, sometimes perilous, journey on the PCT from the Mexico-California border to British Columbia.
Rathmann described the physical trail and shared his psychological journey. Friends and colleagues asked him about leaving a secure job and trekking from Mexico to Canada. But the 30-something "wanted to do more than live vicariously through others’ experiences."
The trail wasn’t all glory. "It’s easy to romanticize such an adventure," Rathmann says. "The silence can be deafening," he says. "On a clear night, you could read by starlight... (However) the trail is not all wildflowers and vistas." In fact, Rathmann advises anyone who might be contemplating the trek, "If you don’t like pain, don’t hike the PCT." He emphasized his point with graphic slides of feet with blackened toenails and oozing blisters; and a bloody knee, caused by rocks so sharp they "shave the skin off of you."
Although "the trails were incredibly well-marked," Rathmann soon learned that the best of planning doesn’t necessarily get a hiker from one scenic campsite to the next: "You camp anywhere - even near an outhouse."
Mother Nature was even less predictable last year, dispensing "a ton of snow in the Sierras, no snow in the Cascades and a wet Southern California." Bottom line: Be prepared for anything. And expect to be amazed "by the kindness of strangers... people leaving random gifts in the woods," such as a man who collects snow water for PCT hikers; and the couple who invites these travelers into their home to enjoy a warm meal, stay overnight and use their washing machine - at no cost. Rathmann’s notion that hiking the PCT would remove him from society vanished as he made numerous, good friends along the way.
Yes, he’d do it all over again... "in a heartbeat.
