One night of Backpacking Without a Home
A blog on an assigned class reading
I started hiking at six thirty in the morning, summited Mt. Baldy at around one thirty in the afternoon. At five thirty that evening I strolled into the staff camp found a staffer and explained my situation. I cleaned dishes to earn my meal. When it came time to sleep that night I didn’t even have a campsite. They let me another guy who was waking up at three am to watch the sunrise from Baldy, sleep on their kitchen porch. We snuck into their kitchen halfway through the night because it was warmer. That was the only night in my three months at camp that I slept inside four solid walls.
That was the closest to the liminal hiker experience I’ve ever had. It was refreshing to have the hospitality of strangers who’s only commonality was a staff uniform shirt. I was freeing being unbounded by home, but it was also sad to not have a familiar place to return to at the end of the day. It was eye opening to need to have faith that a meal and shelter would be provided (even in July it was too cold to sleep unprotected form the elements).
At the same time, it was awe inspiring to hike solo through the woods, enjoying extra-human by myself. Backpacking gives insight into true homelessness and the beauty of the extra-human surrounding the journey. When backpacking the rhythm of your pack, breathing, and journey create an unmatched liminal experience.


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