January 15: Logistics, Grounding, and the Long View
Today is January 15, and something has shifted. Not dramatically – no cinematic breakthrough – but enough that the pieces feel more organized. My thinking is clearer. Preparations are moving from abstract intention into actual systems. That alone feels like progress.
The most important preparation has nothing to do with gear or mileage. It’s communication – specifically, communicating well with my wife and partner, Sharon.
Sharon has agreed to take point on resupply preparation about one month ahead of me on trail. That’s not a small thing. She’s a natural planner with decades of experience running complex operations: managing staff, curriculum, and food service at scale. At one point she oversaw a certified Department of Agriculture kitchen producing roughly 500 meals and snacks a day for up to 150 kids. Logistics is her native language.
She’s retired now and – somewhat to my relief – is relishing having a project that stretches her again. I trust her judgment implicitly. Most hikers don’t have this kind of support, and I’m deeply aware of how fortunate I am.
She also bought me an inReach for Christmas – communication insurance while I’m on the trail. And a few weeks ago I realized that my Verizon Samsung phone’s satellite texting feature actually works under open skies, including GPS coordinates. Redundancy matters. Peace of mind matters more.
The current plan is simple and generous: Sharon will drop me at Campo, then meet me for a zero day roughly every two weeks. She’s tightly bound to grandmommy duties with Chloe and Taylee – six and five – and she is determined not to miss a minute of that life, except when resupply logistics require it. I wouldn’t want it any other way.
I know how rare this level of partnership is. I don’t take it lightly.
Developments
My twin brother – an MSW who pivoted into software engineering – now lives in Porto, Portugal. Like many, he left the U.S. in response to the domestic climate. He’s applied for a PCT permit with a March 3 start date, which is early. There’s a chance our applications could overlap or link up in some way. Nothing certain yet – but it’s a thread worth holding.
I also submitted my mid-January PCT Association application. My requested start date is March 17 – the last available day with open slots. Every date from March 18 through mid-May was already capped at the 50-permit limit.
That reality pushes my planning up by at least a month. But strangely, it also removes pressure. There’s no need to rush now. Once I’m on trail, I can let my body do what it does best – adapt. Ligaments, muscles, joints, bones: all coming online in their own time. I’ve never started a long trail without some external urgency hanging over me. This will be new.
The World Beyond the Trail
The domestic situation in the national news grows more troubling by the day. The killing of Renee Nichole Good by an ICE agent has finally pierced mainstream consciousness—perhaps because she was a white woman. Immigrant communities, meanwhile, have been living under terror for nearly a year.
From where I sit in the intermountain West – here in St. George – it feels distant and immediate at the same time. Wars and rumors of wars. I’m safe. Unaffected. And largely isolated from meaningful ways to express dissent or solidarity with immigrant friends, families, and workers.
That dissonance is hard to sit with.
Training, Slowly Becoming Real
Sharon also got me a 20-pound weight vest. I’ve been wearing it on my 1.5-mile dog walks. The goal is three walks a day. Reality so far: once a day, maybe. I need to step that up.
I’ve made it to the local climbing gym about every other day and – finally – started meeting people. I’ve lived in St. George for three years and, until now, known no one outside of family. Grandkids have ruled our lives, happily and completely.
This feels like a re-entry into the wider world. Small steps. Literal ones.
Nothing here is dramatic. No bold proclamations. But the systems are forming. The support is real. The trail no longer feels theoretical.
I’m getting closer – by doing the unglamorous work first.
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