[at-l] Tradition

[wb4pan@mindspring.com (Chase Davidson)]

Excellent post Jim,

	I really enjoyed reading that. Thanks for taking the time to write it.

chase

Jim and/or Ginny Owen wrote:
> 
> Lately we’ve seen a whole lot of words about “tradition” or “traditionalist
> thruhiking” here.  And most of them have been pretty much meaningless
> because – as I was taught – if you can’t define what you’re talking about,
> then you’re just blowin’ smoke.  And I haven’t seen much in the way of real
> definitions from those who are preaching “traditionalism”.  So – just for
> grins – these are some “dictionary” definitions:
> 
> tradition -
> 1.  a long-established custom or belief, often one that has been handed down
> from generation to generation
> 2.  a body of long-established customs and beliefs viewed as a set of
> precedents
> 3.  something that people always do or always do in a particular way
> 
> There are a lot of things about thruhiking (and/or section hiking) that
> might be called traditional –  and it can be asserted that those traditions
> derive specifically from what was common to thruhikers in the 50’s, 60’s,
> 70’s, etc. - and to section hikers all the way back to the 30's.  The past,
> after all, is the ONLY legitimate origin for anything that one might want to
> call “traditional”.  And "section hiking" is, as the saying goes - the
> Senior activity.  So – what was common practice back then?  What might we
> want to accept as “tradition”?
> 
> The most obvious “traditions” might involve the equipment – the 6# boots,
> the leaky canvas “pup” tents, the external frame packs, the wool
> “itchy-scratchies”, the canvas pants and wool shirts, the ax (or hatchet),
> and yes – it could even be considered “traditional” to carry a gun (many, if
> not most of the early hikers did so).   Hmmm – how many of you want to go
> back to carrying that kind of equipment again?   I have carried it.  I don’t
> anymore.  And I don’t think most of you would enjoy it much.
> 
> Or maybe we’d like to be “traditional” in the way we camp?  Little things -
> like cooking over an open fire?  Do you have any idea how long that takes to
> prepare a meal?  That’s what the ax was for, gang – and an ax is heavier
> than a Whisperlite – or an alcohol stove.  To say nothing of the difficulty
> in finding wood for your fire in many places along the AT.  Anyone know what
> happens to the forest in high use areas when everyone builds a fire?  And I
> didn’t even mention the iron skillet, did I?  Been there and done that – I
> was hiking the Trail in the 50’s – and cooking over that open fire.  And I
> don’t really want to go back there.
> 
> Or maybe we should go back to “ditching” our tents. That’s “traditional”
> too.   At one time it was considered “necessary” for those who didn’t like
> sleeping wet.  In fact, there are still people who do that – but I don’t
> think it’s a “tradition” that we want to carry on.
> 
> Or maybe some of you like “baseball bat” shelter floors?  If you haven’t
> slept on one of those you’ve missed one of the more miserable experiences in
> life.  But, you see, those baseball bat shelters were built back when it was
> “normal practice” to cut pine boughs to provide a comfortable bed.  That
> could be considered “traditional” too – but I don’t think it’s really a
> viable option anymore.  Nor is it considered environmentally friendly.
> 
> How about the tradition of burying garbage, especially the tin cans that we
> used for food, out in the woods beside our campsite.  You can still find
> buried caches of rusty cans near a lot of popular campsites.  And this is
> still practiced some places.  Is this a tradition worth carrying on?
> 
> Or what about the tradition of killing rattlesnakes?  That used to be common
> practice on the AT as elsewhere.  Not environmentally friendly, not even
> smart - but traditional.
> 
> Sorry, gang, but “tradition” isn’t always a good thing to hang onto, to
> carry into future generations.  On the other hand, there are traditions that
> might well be desirable, but are not always possible to carry on.
> 
> For example, “traditionally” AT hikers were welcomed by the local people –
> if you read the journals of those who hiked 30 or 40 years ago (like the
> Rodale books, for example) you’d find that there were no “hostels”, that the
> hospitality along the Trail came from the people along the way – the woman
> who gave a whole ham to a thruhiker, the farmers who allowed hikers to sleep
> in the barn, or more likely in the house, the people who kept private trail
> registers and would wait on their front porches for the hikers.  Those were
> the original Trail Angels – and that was ”tradition”. It was a tradition
> that I miss, that I’d like to see continue into the future.  But it’s not
> generally possible, because those wonderful people would be overwhelmed by
> the sheer numbers of hikers today, and besides, in the search for a more
> wilderness type experience, the trail has been moved away from the rural
> farms and homes.
> 
> Or maybe Warren Doyle’s bathtub would be a good “tradition” to carry on – it
> was another form of Trail Angeling – a bathtub that was sunk into a creek
> and kept filled with beer and soda during the summer.  But if you did that
> today, you’d be arrested for littering or environmental damage or
> contributing to the delinquency of minors or some other bit of nonsense.
> 
> And then there’s the kind of “tradition” that started with Earl Shaffer’s
> faith in the healing power that the Trail confers.  And that tradition lives
> on today – and works wonders for those who have the faith and the guts and
> the perseverance to pursue it.  I think that tradition will live on
> regardless of the efforts of those who would replace the real Trail
> traditions with their own silly ideas.
> 
> And then, these are what I believe are the “real” traditions – the daily
> walking, the wonder of the mountains, the beauty of the trees and the
> wildlife, the weight of your pack, walking in the rain and the snow and the
> sunshine, learning about who and what you are, learning to live – and being
> and becoming.  Those are the traditions that predate the AT and will endure
> even if the Trail itself doesn’t.
> 
> There are, of course, the false traditions that today are being foisted on
> the young, foolish and ignorant.  The idea of “purism” as the only “true”
> way to hike; the worship of those who were only men, not gods, and not quite
> as wise or witty or brilliant as some imagine them; the belief that the
> Trail is fragile and will not survive without the protection of a small
> “elite”; the disdain for the humankind that makes the trail possible; the
> constant striving to resolve the “issues” that they themselves have
> manufactured.  These are the ideas of those who lack the perception to see
> reality; the "traditions" of those who lack the faith to understand the real
> meaning of the Trail; the precepts of those who would control not just
> humanity, but even God; the teachings of those who fear what they cannot
> control.
> 
> I understand some of their fears, because I’ve lived through as many changes
> in the world as they have, I’ve seen the death of many “traditions” that
> were worthy of keeping – and I’ve seen the growth of much in the world that
> is worthy only of contempt.  But, for myself, I cannot and will not allow
> fear to control me or the world I live in.  I will not accept the
> revisionist “traditions” of those who have neither the imagination to
> generate original ideas, nor the wit to understand the writings and precepts
> of those who actually had the vision.  I will not accept “traditions” that
> are derived by “reading between the lines” of the writings that they claim
> to revere.  I don’t need and won’t accept the kind of false High Priest who
> interjects his own fears and prejudices into the original writings and then
> says “Look at me – Look at how clever I am – I’ve re-interpreted what the
> Master said and it's so much better than the original!!”
> 
> Bull.
> 
> There are those of us who mourn parts of the past – but not all of it.
> There are others who think they can turn back the clock - or stop it.  And
> there are those who are arrogant enough to believe they can change the past
> by injecting their own version of reality continuously at high volume.
> Maybe they can - as someone said - the most revolutionary idea in America
> today is a long memory.  God help us if it's true.
> 
> What follows are selected verses from a poem that was written just 100 years
> ago – before the tremendous changes that the last century wrought – before
> airplanes or radio or television or computers, from a time when automobiles
> were rare and electricity was still new, from a time before the Appalachian
> Trail was even a vague glimmer in it's founder's mind - but long after the
> first "thruhikers" had blazed their way from the Massachusetts Bay to the
> Ohio valley to the beaver streams of the Rockies and the gold fields of
> California. Even MacKaye had precedents to follow.  The poem expresses the
> nostalgia, the fear, the longing for the familiar and comfortable, the
> anxiety that change brings – and it laughs at those fears because the author
> saw clearly that change is inevitable and should be embraced with joy and
> hope.  Enjoy.
> 
> Walk softly,
> Jim
> 
> ***********************************************************************
> 
> “Farewell, Romance!” the Cave-men said;
> “With bone well carved He went away.
> “Flint arms the ignoble arrowhead,
> “And jasper tips the spear today.
> “Changed are the Gods of Hunt and Dance,
> “And He with these.  Farewell, Romance!”
> 
> “Farewell, Romance!” the Soldier spoke;
> “By sleight of sword we may not win,
> “But scuffle ‘mid uncleanly smoke
> “Of arquebus and culverin.
> “Honor is lost and none may tell
> “Who paid good blows.  Romance, farewell!”
> 
> “Goodbye, Romance!” the Skipper said;
> “He vanished with the coal we burn,
> “Our dial marks full-steam ahead,
> “Our speed is timed to half a turn.
> “Sure as the ferried barge we ply
> “’Twixt port and port.  Romance, goodbye!”
> 
> “Romance!” the season-tickets mourn,
> “He never ran to catch His train,
> “But passed with coach and guard and horn –
> “And left the local – late again!
> “Confound Romance!” … And all unseen
> Romance brought up the nine-fifteen.
> 
> His hand was on the lever laid,
> His oil-can soothed the worrying cranks,
> His whistle waked the snowbound grade,
> His fog-horn cut the reeking Banks;
> By dock and deep and mine and mill
> The Boy-god reckless laboured still!
> 
> Robed, crowned and throned, He wove His spell,
> Where heart-blood beat or hearth-smoke curled,
> With unconsidered miracle,
> Hedged in a backward-gazing world:
> Then taught His chosen bard to say:
> “Our King was with us yesterday!”
> 
>                --- selected verses from
>                        “The King” by Rudyard Kipling
>