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Gear List This list is the gear I began my walk with. As weather became colder a lot of the autumn gear was mailed home to be replaced by equipment that could hold up to lower temps that often combined ice and snow with long days of rain. It really was fantastic how often I'd trade out one article like my Marmot sleeping bag for my glorious down Feathered Friends Eider -30 750 fill bag just as the last warm night passed. THE BEST GEAR THAT I DIDN'T BUY With miles and towns passing by in a trickling stream there is always an open store of supplies just beyond the guardrails, moose crossing signs, and poison ivy. The greatest wealth was usually found going up steep hills because my eyes naturally fell to the road beneath my feet. Just about everything that I needed could be found in the discarded objects along the road. I became convinced that if I just walked long and far enough whatever I lacked would arrive at my feet. Often the only trick was recognizing an item for what it was. I found a perfect pair of Nike rain paints in the middle of a rainstorm on the side of the road. I had already had rain pants, but I did not have rain protection for my exposed hands that held my walking sticks. In a second I had my knife out, cut off both legs of the found garment, tied knots in the inverted tops, and returned them right side out. In less than three minutes I went from cold wet hands to gloved fingers inside a weather-proof shell. The smile on my face sent extra warmth to my toes. While in Maine my bamboo spatula did a wonderful job blending into the leaves, as well as flipping perfect pancakes. It wasn't too many steaming flap-jacks into my trip before my natural spatula didn't make it back into my portable kitchen. That was the last plate of pancakes it made. One state later I was rewarded with not one but two small spatulas from a child's discarded play set found on a windy turn. They were more than happy to flip real world pancakes and small steaks. I can't tell you how thrilled I was over my found treasure. Quarters, dimes and hundreds of pennies (I never did bother with bending over with my heavy pack for pennies) were often found, but it was the things money couldn't buy in the middle of Nowhere, New Hampshire; Vacant Street, Maine; and Waiting On Winter, Vermont that brought complete joy. A found plastic water bottle cap to replace the top on a water bottle that seized up had the ability to make my day. That's when you know that you've really simplified your life. My list of found
and adopted objects is a wonderful collection of memories that far
exceeds any equipment that I paid top dollar for in a mountain supply
store. When I buy a hundred and twenty five dollar stove it is a
beautiful thing but it doesn't begin to shine in my heart until
we have shared a few storms, tumbled into a rain filled trench,
and made a titanium cup of batter into a golden pile of pancakes.
Until we have shared the making of memories a store bought item
is just a guest that hopes to join the team. When I spend a lot
of money for gear I expect a lot from it under field conditions.
Now a trail found piece of equipment has already skipped several
major hurdles. When I find a piece of gear it has to be really flirting
with my eye to get me to notice. After months of walking I am constantly
looking for any excuse to send a piece of equipment home. With sixty
plus pounds on my back I don't enjoy stopping to pick up things.
Whenever one of my hiking sticks falls I'll spend an extra few seconds
seeing if I can pick it up without bending or squatting. Usually
I'll find a way. The last thing I want to do is stop and pick up
every dirty item that I see. So if I adopt an item on the road it
is either a replacement, like a water bottle top, or it is something
just right for a need I have. Walking down the western border of
New York my survival staff wore through the last rubber foot that
I carried for it. At three pound plus the staff was instant unwanted
weight on my back. Half a day later I was cutting up an abandoned
tractor-trailer tube that was lounging in its new home in the dirt
along a country road. With some parachute cord and several small
discs of rubber cut from the tube my staff was set for a hundred
plus miles with a new custom rubber foot. One of the great joys
of each morning was wondering what token treasure I'd find that
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