This is not a hiker blog.

This is not a hiker blog. This is NOT a hiker blog.
So here’s a story about me hiking.

One of the first times I decided hiking sucked was going down from San Jacinto. It’s a massive, dry descent down from a beautiful mountain, towards the desert floor.
The day before, I was on top of my first ever real mountain, with snow and a great view. This day, all I could see was the desert floor, with a huge interstate crossing it. It looked like a scar across the world and was so far below me. And for mile after mile, I walked towards that road. It’s downhill all day, so after a while my knees felt horrible. But there was still more downhill to go.

And the sun was scorching. Oh, did anyone tell you that the desert has no trees?
Well, that’s actually wrong, but this section definitely doesn’t. No shade as far as I could see.

As I’m limping down this hill, my water runs almost completely out. All my friends are far ahead of me, and the next water source even further. There’s no way I can make it to our planned camping spot, where life giving water is, before night. I hated it, like “fuck me, why am I doing this?”. All memories of yesterday’s glorious summit were lost, and all I wanted to do was lay down and sleep.

I was hot, thirsty, and my ego was slightly bruised being so far behind everyone else. Right there I decided hiking is not for me. Not in a “I want to go home” way, more in a “this is not what I saw on YouTube” way. I did’nt feel enlightened at all yet. Just tired and hot. But the thirst was pushing me to go on, so I kept walking.

While I walked alone, with several miles to go and the sun setting, I met a guy. This tall man with a beard called out to me from the bushes and asked if I had enough water.
“No, I don’t,” I answered, thinking this could push me to my planned camp.
We got to talking, and after some stiff English, we figured out we were both Swedes! Amazing!
Then this tall, bearded countryman offered me more water, and to camp with him!

Of course, as a humble Swedish man, I said, “No sir, I can’t drink your precious water all night.”
He insisted, and then showed me something that would seal the deal.

This man had brought snus. Proper Swedish snus.

So I joined his camp, obviously. (We do love snus in Sweden.)

So, cowboy camping under the stars with my new best friend, I decided hiking isn’t that bad after all.

// Lumberjack