#110: Let The Ocean Handle It.
When compared to a whale, your physical problems look tiny.
In the summer of ’69… no, just kidding! But I still got you, didn’t I?
It was in ’98, which was a much better summer for me anyway considering that I wasn’t even born in 1969. We had just graduated from Business School and decided to hit the road and go off-piste in Western Canada. The West Coast Trail, «Hike of a lifetime», was the main attraction for us. A week in the wild, on the edge, around bears and nowhere else to go other than the end of the 75-kilometre long trail.
The Park Ranger instructing us upon arrival left me with two life-lessons, which I have been carrying around with me ever since.
Let The Ocean Handle It
There are no official restrooms along the trail. So one of the obvious questions was where to do our business. The Park Ranger explained to us that there were lots of whales on the coast line. If we were lucky, we would see them when hiking on the beach. Now those whales would do their business in the ocean. Obviously. Comparing their presence to ours, we would only be little nothings. The same applied to our «business dealings», hence the suggestion that we should «let the ocean handle it». Get out there far enough and get it all done.
What it taught me was to put things into perspective, to look at the relative impact of us versus nature. As with other things in life, it always depends. Be considerate and then do what feels right without causing any lasting damage.
Commit Yourself To The Mud
The hike leads through temperate rain forest, which makes humidity a challenge. It rains a lot, but even if it didn’t rain, the ground would often be wet and humid. That makes keeping your hiking boots clean outright impossible. If you asked yourself who would ever want to keep his/her hiking boots clean, then I couldn’t give you an answer. However, the Park Ranger was clearly speaking from experience. Trying to tiptoe from one rock to another in order to avoid the mud would apparently be a recipe for disaster. The risk of sliding and landing in the mud face down was just too high, hence her suggestion to «commit ourselves to the mud».
The lesson for me was to avoid the worst by confronting what looked bad. And it turned out that walking in the mud was actually much more fun than anticipated.
Go ahead. Do that tour. Take that ride. But please, speak to those who know the deal. They do have a lesson to share with you.
Listen to them and then go full monty!
