Weight matters. When you're carrying a backpack the length of the United
States, from the border with Mexico all the way to Canada, across deserts
and mountain ranges, then you count every ounce. And every ounce must count.
Hiking the 2,658 miles of the Pacific Crest Trail with my partner Liz was a
harsh lesson in what we did and did not need. Sometimes we shared a sleeping
bag. We rationed toilet paper. We even cut down the handle of our toothbrush
- all to save weight. And yet our Pocketmail composer was such an essential
piece of equipment it went with us every step of the way.
That was not the original intention. I had agreed to write a monthly column
for a UK backpacking magazine called TGO-The Great Outdoors, and planned to
ship the Composer ahead of us from town to town. I'd mail it General
Delivery to a Post Office, collect it when we arrived, write and send my
story, then mail it on again. Except it didn't work out like that.
I mistakenly assumed it was just another writing tool. Instead, this little
silver device became our mission controller, our planner, our lifeline and
our indispensable electronic confessional.
The Pacific Crest National Scenic Trail, to give it its full title, passes
through the wildest, most remote parts of California, Oregon and Washington.
Every 3-7 days we'd step out of the mountains and into a tiny community.
Usually these were too small to have a supermarket selling the light weight
high calories meals we needed, but they would have a Post Office. So we had
prepared thirty three boxes of food which our friends Paul and Heather were
mailing to us. However, timing was everything. It was essential to ensure
the boxes arrived in a town just before us, but not too early or they'd be
returned. Thanks in large part to Pocketmail we never once missed a box or
went hungry.
What's more, we never felt isolated. Liz and I love being in remote
backcountry but spending six months away from family and friends could have
been a strain. Instead, fresh news from home was waiting for us whenever we
reached a payphone, and we could reply either with personal messages or, by
using the Group feature, could send an update bulletin to everyone we knew.
It was by far the most economical way to stay in touch and, had there been
an emergency back home, it would have been the most efficient way to contact
us.
Just before embarking upon this adventure I decided to keep an on-line
Journal. It was so family and friends, or at least those who were
particularly interested in our hike, could follow it closely. I had no idea
how many people would end up reading it. Complete strangers stumbled upon
the site while searching the internet. Every night I'd lie on my back in our
Tarptent and, typing with my thumbs, put all the days events into the
Journal. I even confessed mistakes which experienced hikers shouldn't make,
in the hope prospective PCT hikers might learn from them. Indeed, when I
admitted that the dust and heat of Southern California had given me a nasty
case of chaffed buttocks, e-mails with suggested remedies came from across
Europe and the USA! (Nappy rash cream worked best.)
However, this Pocketmail Composer is not alone in having travelled the
length of the Pacific Crest Trail. We've met several people, particularly
solo hikers, who would not undertake a long journey without their small
silver companion. My only problem will come when I return to work. Will I be
able to switch back to a full size keyboard? And can I stop typing with my
thumbs?
Simon Willis flew to the USA with America Airlines.
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