After nine weeks of long distance, Adam left Houston and all that comes with it: the congestion, pollution, heat, and barbeque, as well as the corporate job and the corporate paycheck. He spent two days driving a car full of miscellaneous items that had sustained our existence there: a laptop, a fold-out camp table, his ukulele, and some camping gear. Being the thriftiest and most efficient person I’ve met, he slept only a few hours in his car at a rest stop so as to save money on a hotel and not waste time unpacking. At 11 pm on Monday, March 7, he arrived in a suburb of Akron, Ohio at my mom’s house where I had been for a few days.
The last nine weeks had been a grind for him, while I adventured to Colorado to write for Alpine Modern and then to Peru to visit my best friend and explore the Andes. The past fourteen months had turned our lives upside down; we went from both working fulltime jobs in Washington, DC to planning a thru hike in the midst of a work transfer to Houston. Anticipating the PCT meant a lifestyle change: selling our belongings, learning to live out of a car, and saving as much money as possible. It also created space for me to throw myself into my own business, publishing and editing Catalyst Wedding Magazine, while also enjoying a number of adventures: completing my yoga teacher training in Colorado, living in a co-op with 19 adults in Houston, and traveling abroad. We became extra mobile and flexible, spending half the year doing long-distance. I, for one, lived in six homes in three states in 2015 (one was a tent) and then started 2016 in a new state.
Coming together now at my mom’s home in Ohio symbolizes a new phase of life: one that is more creative and adventurous, and more importantly, unified. Adam is zen. He has planned tirelessly for this moment, calculating our monthly budgets and expenses, while spending hours and hours researching the logistics and experiences of others in preparation for hiking the PCT. Not to mention, he is a competitive mountain biker, has sufficient backpacking experience, and is altogether an athletic person who doesn’t really crave junk food or even food with flavor.
I, on the other hand, am not a competitive anything, and I prefer to have dessert after most meals, which hopefully consist of something gourmet and spicy. Not to mention, I run my own business, which demands significant time daily… and access to internet. In summary, I am racked with anxiety, mostly about having distance from Catalyst, but also about my own physical capabilities, eating a bajillion lentils, foregoing an actual bathroom for six months, and wondering what the heck we will have to talk about for 2700 miles.
While I am so stoked to be able to enjoy this adventure of a lifetime with my accomplice, I wish I felt I had a bit more control over the many unknowns we are ushering into our world. I’d like to know the formula for how to be young, wild, and free, while also running a successful business. Adam is patient. He is giving me a week’s warning that I will need to pry myself away from the computer, where I am frantically trying to get ahead with editing and writing, in order to take the two hour drive to REI next week. At meals, he tries to get my opinion on gear reviews and drop box contents, while single-handedly organizing our pick up from the San Diego airport and even getting a lower car insurance rate.
For now, we are off to Florida to visit friends and family before we disappear for the next six months. Here's to hoping that a bit of sun and sand calms my nerves and provides some time for relaxation before this awesome undertaking.
Francy pants getting on board the dehydration train.
Just doing what we do.
Beautiful afternoon as I am leaving Texas for the big O-H!
Hitting the finest MTB trail in OH on a random sunny March day.
Good friends and things
