Lessons Relearned - Rationing

Many of life's lessons must, unfortunately, be relearned.

It was several days before we hit the Devil's Ridge trail deep in the Pasayten Wilderness that we knew our food was low. The scenery, the terrain, and the weather had all conspired against us. We had spent extra days in locations too spectacular to linger only briefly. That splendor derived, at least partially, from the grueling elevation changes we encountered daily. And it was September in the North Cascades – when not spitting on us, the clouds loomed forebodingly, the wind howled, and the elevation warned of snow.

We carefully estimated calories, allotting similar amounts for each of the meals remaining before we would arrive back in “civilization”. We planned aggressive hiking days over Tatoosh Buttes, Sky Pilot Pass, and Devil's Dome. At the same time we talked of caution on the trail, for accidents and injuries happen when low blood sugar leads to poor judgment. Our independent, stubborn personalities would be a problem. When only one of us wanted to push forward an extra mile or two, frustration mounted.

Our final meal consisted of a few handfuls of dried carrots and celery floating in thin vegetable broth. Not a very satisfying supper after hiking a dozen miles with a pack in fall weather. Your body needs calories to burn to keep you warm while the rain on the tent keeps you awake. Carrots don't have much fat and celery is pretty lean in the protein department.

That was the only time we ran out of food on the entire PNT. While we had been continuously burning more calories than we ingested, this was the only time when hunger could find no relief – the food bags were bare.

When we look back on that week in the high country we are reminded of how profoundly it affected our abilities. Cold fingers take longer to set up camp. Cooperation becomes an effort rather than second nature. Perception distance shortens. No one chooses to live like that.

Yet families in your own community look at the calendar every month and must start rationing food. Sacrifices are made until payday arrives. Like us on the trail, supplies don't just materialize out of thin air - you fight through to them as best you can.

Think about all of the benefits regular, healthy meals provide: Kids are better able to pay attention in school developing knowledge and social skills that will benefit society for decades to come; Parents have more patience and more energy, making them better role models; all of us are more capable at everything we do, creating success, improving self-confidence, and laying the groundwork for higher achievement.

Now is the time of year when new calendars go up. The time when we record vacations, birthdays and other special events. Now would be a great time to add a food bank reminder. Now would be a great time to take food rationing off the calendar of a local family. Should you donate every month? Every third month? That is up to you. How much to give? Again, give whatever you feel comfortable with.

We always hear how charitable giving goes up around the holidays and tax time. Hunger isn't so predictable. So plan to give throughout the year. And while you are placing reminders on your calendar, look up the address and phone number of your nearest food bank or shelter. When February or April comes and that reminder jumps out at you, call them up and ask what they could use – make the most of your effort.

We've all needed help from time to time. Let's remember to give back.

Happy Holidays. And may your only rationing this season be of cookies and fudge.

Support Local Libraries!

Imagine two dusty, grimy, fatigued hikers coming into a small town in northern Washington after 100-some miles on the trail. They are hungry and stinky. They look forward to the simple pleasures civilization can offer - the possibility of a shower, a bed, and a hot meal. If they pass a library sign on their way to achieve cleanliness and satiation, however, they may do a little jump for joy despite the weight on their backs. In fact, our 1200 mile trek would have been far more challenging without libraries to support us along the way. We owe many libraries in the remote landscape of the Northwest a great deal of thanks.

For Dale and me, libraries offered a refuge. At often tiny libraries in small towns along the Pacific Northwest Trail we found a warm, comfortable shelter where we could sit down in a chair for a few moments and catch our breath before connecting with the outside world. Thanks to libraries we learned they finally buried Michael Jackson after far too much hoopla, as well as Senator Ted Kennedy, an event we took more somberly. In libraries we corresponded with friends and family via e-mail, and posted new stories to the blog. Before heading out into town we got recommendations for local eateries and accommodations from friendly librarians. Whenever we came into a town to pick up our food box, we kept a sharp eye out for the local library.

We encountered our first library in Eureka, Montana. After admiring the detailed three-dimensional mural on an external wall we took over one of the few tables in the small building to catch up on our lives outside of the hike. We were thrilled to access free WiFi in a place that lacked any cell phone coverage. We even thumbed through a few books – a tantalizing peek into stories and images otherwise inaccessible on the trail.

Mural depicting historical events on wall of library in Eureka, MT

Some libraries along the hike were so small as to have limited weekly hours. The tiny Northport, WA library – once the town jail – was staffed just a couple days a week. We felt fortunate to show up at a time the small building was open. There we caught up on e-mail, thumbed through magazines with pretty, glossy pictures, posted blogs, and enjoyed the unique atmosphere of a library/historical museum. The jail cell had been converted to a children's reading room – I think I know a few moms who wouldn't mind an opportunity to lock up their kids somewhere they can read quietly. Dresses on display from the early 1900s hung incongruously with neon-pink signs proclaiming “Animanga Club meets Tuesdays”. The librarian offered to keep the WiFi signal turned on when she left for the week so we could continue to work outside the building after hours. Thank you, kind librarian!

Entrance to library/museum in Northport, WA

Children's reading room in converted jail cell of Nortport, WA library

The slightly larger library in Concrete, Washington, also opened only a few days. Yet we were able to connect to the outside world via a WiFi feed broadcast outside the building. Large posters on locked doors provided the access password and external outlets offered a valuable power source. While our rears got sore sitting on the hard concrete sidewalk, we were very grateful to be able to connect to the internet.

We came across the largest library along the PNT route in Port Townsend, WA. Their two story, stucco building hummed with activity, even in the middle of a weekday. The library was so busy, in fact, we never even found a place to sit. While most visitors seemed to be on computers, others prowled the stacks, and read in one of the scarce chairs about the place. We escaped the midday-crush of visitors and gratefully returned to fresh outside air where we discovered a sweet, feline statuette just outside the library's entrance.

Library in Port Townsend, WA

Cat sculpture outside Port Townsend, WA library

In Forks, WA – yes, that Forks - the librarians seemed pretty used to strangers hoping for an on-line connection. Yet despite (or perhaps on account of) the small town's heightened “Twilight” popularity, Forks' librarians greeted us with warm, wide smiles - no pointy canines or incisors to be seen.

While Dale and I both always liked libraries, we really came to appreciate them over the course of our hike. The proliferation of public places reminded us that local libraries offer a multitude of services to the general public for only a nominal yearly tax. For one, they open a door into the wonderful world of books, and books offer escape, or background to our histories, context for our lives, and promise for our futures. Movies and music are free, and you can peruse a variety of magazines and journals without needing a subscription. Libraries are where mothers can bring their young children for story time and retirees can research that hobby they've always wanted to try. It's a place where students can study, or simply lose themselves in daydreams. It's where people gather to talk about books, or share community concerns. People go to libraries to research new careers. And more than ever, in today's economy, libraries have been invaluable to so many who find themselves in the strange and uncomfortable position of looking for employment. It seemed appropriate and fitting, then, that we gave our first public presentation about our PNT hike in a public library.

Sadly, libraries around the country are feeling the devastating impact of our current economic troubles. Libraries are closing, and like too many others right now, many wonderful folks are losing jobs they love dearly. Since the librarians I know are so deeply passionate and enthusiastic about their work it seems like an extra blow to remove them from the thing they love best in the world. In addition, invaluable services to the community at large are disappearing. Many librarians are as devastated about the loss of library services to patrons as they are about being out of work.

The stories we've heard about branch closures and lost jobs reminds us to consider our own local libraries. We fully support the institutions that provide so much to the community, and offer refuges for locals and transients alike. So here's a big Thank You to all the libraries who offered respite during our long hike. We also want to give a special Thanks to the Aurora Public Library for letting us share our PNT experience a week ago. It meant a great deal to us to be able to share our story in a place that holds so many other stories. We hope we'll be able to pass on more of our PNT experience in future library presentations. In an effort to keep these institutions up and running we will certainly support library initiatives in future voting opportunities. In the meantime, one of the first things we do when we settle will be to get a library card!