I am slowly adjusting to being back in Portland, but I have discovered some jarring differences between my trail life and city life. For starters, people here don’t wear the same thing everyday and tend to take showers more than twice a month. I’m still getting used to this. Recently, I was hugging a friend of mine goodbye and he told me, “You stink, You smell like musty salt.” And I realized that I am now around people who notice and care about these things.
It’s not entirely my fault that I smell so bad (right?) My hiking clothes, despite being washed many, many times continue to reek and I can’t wear them in public. This is sad for two reasons: 1. My hiking clothes are very comfortable and functional 2. I have grown emotionally attached to them like a kid to a blankie and would prefer to wear them all of the time. So now I am the smelly kid that gets picked on at recess. My other friends must have noticed how bad I stink because without asking I have been given three shirts, a pair of pants, a sports bra and a sweater. I consider them “hint, hint” clothes.
People in the city also sleep very far away from the ground, a reality I find disconcerting. When I first got off the trail, I visited a friend in Boston and stayed in her multi-floored apartment building. Each night I would wake up with a mild sense of panic, and it was all I could do to not set up my tent in her living room. Now that I am in Portland, I have thought about setting up a tent in Laurelhurst Park, but, as I am not seeking sexual favors or trying to buy meth, I probably wouldn’t fit in.
Fitting in is difficult anywhere in the city. A friend of mine said to me recently, “Do you know that you are speaking to yourself in the 3rd person and then replying?” I hadn’t noticed. Apparently I have adopted peculiar habits as a way to deal with being alone, but, honestly, is it my fault that I am such a good conversationalist? The worst part is that I keep talking to myself out loud as I walk down the street and I can’t seem to stop. I’m thinking of wearing a Bluetooth so that it looks like I’m on a call and not crazy.
One of the biggest things I am having to get used to is the constant stimuli of city life. Backpacking solo can be pretty simple. You get up, carry something very heavy for a while, put it down, and then go to sleep. In between you eat and go to the bathroom. Sometimes you see pretty things and sometimes you just walk. City life is full of hundreds of things vying for your attention. There are stores, advertisements, bright lights and sounds from every direction. And, of course, there is the computer, which is a wonderful tool, but also a source of infinite distraction. I mean, if I’m not going to read icanhazcheeseburger.com then who will? I have responsibilities, people.
Seeing this many people is strange, too. When I was visiting my friend Kate in Boston we went to a huge apple orchard full of tourists. In that one day, I saw more people than I had in the last three months. It was pretty overwhelming. It seems I have grown accustomed to being by myself. Don’t get me wrong, I was super lonely on the trail and am excited to be back with my community in Portland, it’s just a huge transition to be home. I think that there is a certain level of grief that comes with ending an adventure and I am trying to have compassion on myself when I feel sad.
For now, I am just trying to get used to showering, changing my clothes every day, and sleeping on a bed. I’m glad to be home, but I will miss my smelly, forest-dwelling self.
