What to carry in your pack

We walked and walked and walked. There was a good deal of puffing, frequent stops to oxygenate, groans as the pack landed back on shoulders already feeling the weight, regular pauses to regroup and refire and rejoice, for no matter how hard the last stretch of trail had been, everywhere around was beautiful. The trail behind us. The view in front of us. The smiles and the gasps of wonder. Have you seen the coastline in the southwest of Victoria? It’s truly glorious! 

I felt every step, every kilometre, every ‘undulation’. My clothes reeked and I smelled far worse. I ate rehydrated meals and muesli bars and a ration of one carrot per day and we filtered tank water to drink. I began to eye my pack with a confusing mix of fear and adoration. None of this is unusual if you’re an experienced hiker but for newcomers like us every bit of it was novel and exciting. Setting up and packing away our tents every day became easier, packing them back into our backpacks somewhat trickier. We compared the relative strengths of quilts vs sleeping bags, the R value of sleeping mats, the shape of the footprint of the tent when trying to jigsaw them into tiny camp pads. We studied the map and calculated distances and pinched ourselves in wonder that we were really there. On the trail. Hiking the beautiful Great Ocean Walk.

Somehow a confident answer, clearly made up, was enough to give the impetus to take the next step. And the next one.

So what’s all of this got to do with the Desiderata I hear you ask? Thank you for asking, it’s a really good question and I’d love to talk to it. 

Wise hikers remind you to look back at where you’ve been before you head off on the next part of the trail. There are a few reasons for this. Firstly, you really don’t want to forget anything. Every single item you carry in your pack has been carefully chosen. It’s vital for nutrition or comfort or safety. Trust me, you wouldn’t carry it otherwise, your pack does not need a single gram more than is necessary when hoisting it on your back! 

It is sobering to gaze at where you’ve come from to be astonished by what seems an incomprehensible distance travelled in a relatively short period of time. Every time we looked back to where we’d started walking that day we were shocked to see just how far we’d hiked. Gee, we were thrilled! Such pride in this achievement every single time. Ditto with life.

And, always, a surprise. The trail (both the Great Ocean Walk AND the one you’ve walked through life thus far) looks unfamiliar when you view it from the other direction. Seeing that place that now bears the imprint of your feet from a completely different perspective is a reminder that there are many ways to see and experience things. This is the bit that has kept me thinking even since returning home. Five of us walked the same trail at the same time but, in reality, five different trails were hiked. Five different stories will be told and the five of us returned with starkly different highlights from the same trail.

I once listened to a CEO describe her career progression in reference to a life changing hike she took early in her tenure at a Hawaiian hospital. She’d climbed higher than she’d ever believed she could and she felt literally on top of the world. I have succeeded she thought. Around her the seasoned hikers were taking off their packs, emptying out their equipment, changing their gear. Why are you doing that? she asked. Surely we’ll need our gear to finish the hike? Ah, she was told. The things that brought you this far aren’t the same as what you need for the next bit...

I’ve never forgotten those wise words. When you look back you can see how far you’ve come and you can also see the ‘things’ (tools, skills, talents) that helped you get to where you are. When you look ahead… are those same ‘things’ still the right tools for the job?

I think I’ve nearly got my hiking pack sorted. Out went the water bladder in favour of a tougher drink bottle. In went a lightweight coffee filter (obviously). The pen and paper stay despite little use but the second pack raincover was overly cautious and doesn’t need to be carried from here on in.  More lollies, more bandaids, exactly the same amount of instant porridge, and do not forget the insect repellant. 

The pack for the next stage of life? Hmm. That’s trickier. I’m getting better at accepting there are things that can be left behind (caring too much about what other people think, fear of being wrong, bikinis) and things I absolutely must keep in my pack of tools into the future (confidence, self-discipline, moisturiser). The rest is a bit experimental. I’ll pick up and test a few bits and pieces as I go and let you know what works. Any recommendations from your experience?

Clearly I can wax lyrical about this experience for ever and a day but I won’t put you through that (unless you ask, and then you’d best bring sustenance, it could take a while). I’d love to just leave you with a question. What do you need in your pack to do the next 400 metres?