The Last Englishman: A 2,650 Mile Hiking Adventure on the Pacific Crest Trail by Keith Foskett

Author:Keith Foskett [Foskett, Keith]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Sport
Amazon: B007EDIAY4
Published: 2014-02-12T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11

Setting the limits

I found things in the woods that I didn’t know I was looking for … and now I’ll never be the same.

Jennifer Pharr Davies, 2011 record holder for the fastest ever thru-hike of the Appalachian Trail

I left Brains to snooze in the morning and made quick progress down to Belden, a small community established when the railroad was built. Hemmed in to one side of the surrounding hills by the familiar sight of the Feather River, it was a sleepy little place with a population of just 22. The original iron bridge spanning the river was a useful reference point as I made my way down from the hills. The few people I had spoken to about Belden were none too enamoured with the place and told me it wasn’t worth stopping there. I was glad I did, though.

I was under the impression that a diner and store could be found two miles down the highway, so I was excited to find a restaurant, bar and simple shop in Belden proper. Resting on the bench outside, I was surprised to see Pockets emerge.

“Where the hell did you come from?” I said.

“Got in last night, me ol’ mucker. Walked through most of the morning and slept in that old rock-crushing building over the road.” He pointed to a restored structure on the far side of the river.

Pockets had taken my accent to heart and by now had a string of English words and phrases to his bow. “Me ol’ mucker” was his favourite; he’d also come up with bizarre concoctions like “You gonna ’ave a bacon buttie, then, mate? Wiv sum, yer know, braaawn sauce and a cuppa tea?”

Brains strolled in shortly thereafter, and we all settled down for breakfast, which became lunch. Before we knew it, it was afternoon. We swam in the river and I thanked the Feather for giving me two good baths in as many days. The old monument provided us with some secluded shelter for the night.

I often pondered the juxtaposition of technology and the outdoors. Certain gizmos were carried by most hikers: head torch, mobile phone, iPod or similar musical device, perhaps a GPS. All designed to make our lives more comfortable, and some, like the head torch, could be considered necessities. I wondered how far this kind of technology might advance, and what equipment would be around 20 years from now. Tents with solar panels in the fabric? Body implants that monitor temperature, energy, pulse and other functions and give advice on improving performance? Kinetic-energy trekking poles that produce electricity from movement? (I think I might copyright that one, so don’t tell anyone.)

The need for gadgets on the trail can be considerable, but is always balanced against their usefulness, weight and energy consumption.

Escaping computers, mobile phones and other annoyances was a motivation for me to do the PCT. Although I would find life difficult without my computer or my mobile, especially as I use them for my business, retreating to nature was a beautiful and enlightening way of realising what I actually needed.

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