Written by Michael Hasson
When I first decided to hike the Pacific Crest Trail, all I could do to keep my excitement in check was plan. I made spreadsheet after spreadsheet detailing how much food I needed to send and where, what every piece of gear was and how much it weighed, and how many miles I needed to be doing every day.
After months of anticipation, I knew where I would be every step of the way on my journey to Canada. I was filled with uncertainty when I started north from the Mexican border on March 31, 2014.
178 miles into the trip, I was perfectly on target. I had been making the miles I needed every day, often exceeding them and staying ahead of schedule. Besides some foot pain (which I figured must be normal after days of hiking), the hike was going perfectly.
342 miles in, I limped into a McDonalds at a freeway intersection. My foot was so swollen it barely fit into my shoe, and I had to admit defeat and call off the hike only two weeks into a planned five month journey.
After a few weeks and several x-rays and MRIs, I learned that I had three stress fractures in my forefoot. I would be able to start hiking six weeks later, but by that point I would almost certainly be too far behind schedule to finish before the first snows in Washington. Looking back, however, this experience was the most beneficial thing to happen to me during my gap year.
I learned that planning was largely irrelevant. Few things involve as much planning as a long distance hike, and the pressure to stay on schedule led me to not listen to my body, leading to fairly catastrophic results.
Although I failed to finish the trail when I returned in 2014, the trip showed me the mindset that I would carry with me on every adventure I’ve had since.
Adventure at its heart is about spontaneity. The best, most memorable adventures I’ve had have been when plans (or guidelines, as I like to think of them now) have shifted drastically. Take, for instance, last New Year’s Eve.
While traveling in New Zealand, a friend and I stopped by a farm I had worked at for dinner on Dec. 27. We left six days later after a flat tire and some Kiwi hospitality; the mishap allowed us to explore the area and experience the incredible community. Later on the trip, our van suddenly overheated, forcing us to take some time to absorb a perfect view of one of the most beautiful mountains in New Zealand while we waited for a kind stranger to help us fix the van.
I have found that unexpected changes in plans often lead to a glimpse into the best parts of humanity and the best stories. Next time you plan a trip, I encourage you to not know where you’re going to sleep one night. Don’t be crestfallen when something inevitably goes awry. Accept and embrace the change, and I can almost promise that you’ll get a great story out of it.
Guest Writer