Sun Blogs: Ithaca is Outside
The Paradox of Packing
September 16, 2009 - 2:00am
6:00 p.m.: 30 minutes ‘til I depart for the ‘Dacks. I briefly survey the disaster that is my bedspread from behind my laptop screen, and decide that I should probably start packing. Reaching to grab the cord to plug in my MacBook, I realize with a start that I can barely see it over the volume of clothing, food and gear that litters my floor and bed. With only a half-hour before my ride arrives, I have a lot to accomplish. Separating out the flotsam and jetsam, I tell myself that I probably should have realized that packing for two trips takes longer than packing for just one.
Scattered amongst a random array of gaiters, iodine tablets and maps lie two abnormal additions to the familiar melee: a suit and a resume. A casual observer might stop and stare at such a strange melange, wondering why I was planning on attending a career fair in a bog.
My bed has now become the perfect metaphor for my life - an inexorable combination of the familiar outdoors and a beckoning but unknown future career.
Planning for a backpacking or rock climbing trip has become second nature to me at this point: I can recite from memory every exact piece of equipment or clothing that I will need, and could pinpoint the exact location of it all in my house, in the dark, in under twenty minutes. Thus, the talismans that keep me safe in the woods and on the cliffs may appear to be a garbage midden slowly accumulating on my checkered bedspread, but it is actually the makings of a successful outing.
Planning for my future, however, has always been unknown, untried. The only talismans I have against the big bad career fair are my old wrinkled suit and a cobbled-together resume, both of which currently lie pitifully intermingled with random camping gear. Regrettably, none of this high-tech climbing/hiking gear will be of any use to me on Tuesday, when I walk out of the well-known woods and into the unfamiliar realm of the corporate world.
For now, I’m hoping for the best and preparing for the worst for both of my upcoming expeditions. I hastily edit my resume on my laptop and throw together Cliff bars and a moleskin into my hiking backpack. Tomorrow I will attempt the most challenging hike of my life: the Great Range Traverse. This trip will encompass climbing eight major peaks while traveling more than 20 miles, all in a single day. Yet I know I’m prepared: I have the experience, and I have the gear. For my upcoming career fair, I feel like I’m missing something crucial, akin to walking out the front door sans hiking boots.
Yet half the draw of the outdoors is the unknown. Maps and photos can only tell you so much: the rest is for you to discover. Over the past few years the 'Dacks have become more and more familiar, so my adventures have gotten longer and more grandiose to incorporate more of that unknown that I seek. Yet all during this time I’ve ignored the bigger adventure sitting on my doorstep: my future. And while I may never feel “ready” for the real world, perhaps its time to lace up my black leather shoes and step in to a whole new jungle. But first, it's time for one more trip to that familiar wilderness up North…