The Continental Divide Trail: What Are Hikers Talking About?

Thirty percent cow

“The words that reach your ears are whispered, not shouted.”
–Advice from a Country Farmer, Roy English

myeasy hiking. The low paths bordered dry creeks and creeks almost dead from the lack of snowmelt. We walked over dirt and rocks, occasionally jumping over a fallen tree or making sure a branch didn’t hit the person behind us. I was leading, slow and steady; Ten Percent followed close behind and Ice Cream was the tailgate. He was thinking about Ten Percent: «I can’t just do twenty, no offense,» he commented.

I asked him, «Ten, would you say you are a competitive person?»

The single file hiking conversation is a lot like a phone conversation. You get tone, but no face, no expressions. “Ummm,” the Ten Percent mused. «I don’t think so.»

«So why focus on doing longer miles? If it’s not the competition, what motivates you?»

Our steps marked for a few beats. «I’m not sure».

«What does it feel like when you’re walking and you see someone in front of you? Do you feel like you want to catch up? What happens if you’re in front and you know there’s someone behind you? Do you notice that you’re going faster to stay ahead?»

«Yeah, I guess so.»

«Because?»

Another round of footsteps as thoughts swirled. «I know I’m not going to be the best at everything, but I at least want to be in the top ten percent of what I do.»

I jumped over a small drop. «It seems like a very deliberate number. Why stop there?»

“Math,” said Ten Percent. «Diminishing returns to effort. For example, in college I played tennis with about fifty-five people. I could be the fifth best at tennis, but to become the best I would have to work as hard to beat the top four as I did to beat the bottom forty-nine.»

«Very logical. Intelligent.»

«Thank you.» I could hear the smile.

«What do you think motivates you in general? What do you value in people, in yourself? I see a certain respect for physical ability and intelligence. Anything else?»

This time there were no steps of thought. «Intelligence. Intelligence for sure. And yes, physical ability, I suppose. What do you mean what else?»

I have to think for several steps. «I’d say sociability, maybe. Prosociality. Maybe financial. What I’m researching is, what things do we measure ourselves and others by? People with money get a certain respect. Strong or fit people, smart people. What other things are there that we could include in a list of ‘things to measure people’?»

“Well,” Ten Percent restrained himself. «I think we have to say attractive. I wish that wasn’t important, but I think we have to add it to the list.»

«Yes? Why do we have to add it and why do you wish we didn’t have to?»

«It’s just real. It’s something that people are measured by, people get advantages for it. It sucks, but it’s real and it can’t be ignored just because it’s inconvenient.»

«Hmm,» I brushed a fly away from my nose. «Okay. So, we have: physical ability, physical attractiveness, financial ability/wealth, intelligence, and prosocial ability/emotional intelligence. Let’s do a thought experiment, maybe play a mind video game.»

«I love video games. Let’s go!»

«Okay, so the game is to successfully build an Egyptian pyramid, like the one at Giza. We are given twenty thousand people, each of whom can have twenty points spread across our five selected virtues. Do they all have the same point allocation, or does the allocation vary?»

We had almost forgotten about ice cream; She had been listening to us the same way she does podcasts. Just vibrating, absorbing, making sure we don’t get lost. «Guys,» she interrupted. «There is a twist here.»

«Thank you, dear!» I screamed. We turned around and continued.

Ten Percent said, «Okay, I definitely wouldn’t give everyone the same points. You probably wouldn’t even need that many smart people and maybe you would only need one really rich person to pay for everything, but you would need a lot of physically capable people.»

«What about good-looking or prosocial people?»

«Prosocial…yeah? Probably. There would have to be people to make everyone else work together. I’d have to take some intelligence points from some of the leaders and give them prosocial, and I think most workers would need a good prosocial. But attractive? Maybe I don’t put any points on that for anyone. Not to build a pyramid.»

“So just a bunch of horrible, strong people or smart, sweet people?” I laughed. “Is that good for us then?” I wondered, «Maybe appearances don’t really matter after all.»

«No, it matters. Not in the pyramid game, but it’s something we have to deal with in the real world, so it matters.»

«It sucks how our ideals of what should be real so often clash with what is real.»

«Yeah.»

***

More difficult hikes now. Steeper, rising towards the heights. Dark mountain fog and intermittent rain arrived. We put on our rain gear and continued climbing towards mysterious pine trees covered in fog.

“You’re good at math,” I told Ten Percent. “Ice Cream and I were wondering if a person ate nothing but beef for seven years, what percentage of beef could they achieve?”

Ten percent were excited. «Ah! Hank Green made this with lobsters.»

“I’m a Hank Green fan,” I offered. «But I only know him from SciShow.»

«Me too! But I know Hank Green about everything. There’s a lot of it. But anyway, you have to consider that you don’t fully absorb the lobster, but if it’s your only nutrition, let’s say you could actually live and be healthy on that diet, there would be a slow replacement. You’d always be mostly water anyway, and some of our glucose is made from the air we breathe, but all your protein and fat and stuff would be replaced by the lobster, so maybe, up to thirty percent?»

«You hear that thing about Ice Cream. You can get thirty percent cow if you try.»

«Yes! I love cows!» Ice Cream’s love for cows fought against bad weather like a rebellion.

I stayed at Hank Green. «Didn’t he write a book? The Fault in Our Stars or something.»

“The Fault in Our Stars. And his brother wrote that one. I read it. It was ok.»

«So you like reading? Me too. I love it.»

«Yes, but I shouldn’t read that much, at least fiction.»

To me this was like a person saying they shouldn’t breathe or sleep. «Because?»

«It’s inefficient.»

«You talk as if efficiency were a virtue,» I said. «It’s not.»

«How so?»

«Hitler was efficient at exterminating Jews, for example. Efficiency is like a knife. You can cut vegetables to cook dinner or you can cut your neighbor. That’s why it’s not a virtue. It’s just a quality, and if it doesn’t serve virtue, then it’s not a good one.»

“Well,” the Ten Percent thought for several steps. «What’s the point of reading fiction? Or I love Nordic skiing, but it’s not the most efficient exercise. I could be doing something else that would keep me healthier faster or better than skiing.»

«But you like reading fiction and you like Nordic skiing, right? That’s the point. Life is not a machine. It’s a life. You live it by finding joy in it. If reading makes life more beautiful, or if skiing brings you more joy than, say, lifting weights, then are be efficient to the extent that you efficiently live a meaningful life.”

Ten percent thought for a moment, then mentioned something he had said earlier. «Okay, so about joy and meaning and all that. You said earlier that you work at a job you don’t love, that you don’t find joy in it, that you would quit if you won the lottery. But here you are talking about meaning and finding joy in life. Why then do you work at that job, when you could be doing something else?»

«That’s a great question,» I admitted. «The best I can offer is this. In a perfect world, I wouldn’t do it. My job is the best thing I could find that I didn’t hate, that I would be good at, that would give me the ability to be here and hike or travel and do things that I love to do. I live in a world that has a certain objective reality of its own, and I have to deal with it, make peace with it.»

“Fair enough,” said Ten Percent.

We crossed a small stream. Ice Cream said, «Last good water for a while, guys. You guys want to get your fill.»

We did it.

***

Higher up in the mountains. Darkness came and the rocks became sharp, the paths narrowed and twisted. The climbs are steep enough to restrict conversation. No decent campsites came along, so we walked into the darkness and rain. FarOut reviews mentioned a decent spot for some tents hidden among some pine trees not far from the trail, but we were frustrated by the fog and darkness. The three of us split up and spread out, combing the area back and forth, pushing through soggy vegetation and soaking any clothing or equipment not protected by rain gear.

«I believe here,» I called. We had found two stands of pine trees with flat pads covered in pine needles. One place was better covered than the other and was flatter. “Take that one,” I called across the wind to Ten Percent. «It’s better, I think. Do you want it?»

«Sure. Thanks. Will you be okay there?»

Ice Cream and I took another look around and knew we would be. «Yeah!»

The wind was getting colder and some of the rain was turning to sleet and snow. My hands were starting to freeze and my fingers were getting sluggish. Ice Cream and I settled into the rhythm of the installation and were soon shivering on our quilts, warming ourselves with the patter of the cold rain and the slap of the Dyneema doors in the wind. «Good night, Ten!» Ice Cream called.

«Good night!» came the answer.

***

The morning was freezing. A world of white snow and ice enclosing pine needles. Ice Cream and I packed up and headed out. My buffalo skin hat was so warm I felt like I had a heating pad on my head and for probably the umpteenth time I said, «I love this hat.»

«Good,» said Ice Cream. I heard her smile. She likes it when I’m happy and calls it «cute.»

I puffed on the pipe I’d found in a rotting purse on a mountain outside Lincoln, Montana. Ice cream ate a jelly bean. The day began to warm up, the snow to melt, the sun to shine. The height was now the only cloud, and it was pleasant. «You know,» I said. «It’s hard for me to understand that Emilio Estevez and Charlie Sheen are brothers.»

“Are Emilio Estevez and Charlie Sheen brothers?” Ice Cream said in glassy confusion. “Why are they called that?”

«Stage names, I guess. They’re Spanish or something. Martin Sheen wanted an American stage name.»

«You mean Charlie?»

I shook my head. «No, Martin, his dad. The guy who was in The path on the Way.”

Ice Cream said, “Wait, Emilio was there too, the son who died. That Was he really his son?

«Yes. But he kept his Spanish name.»

«How strange,» Ice Cream said. It was, but we were also intoxicated, so it had that special feeling of weirdness that you’ll only understand if you’re high. As, Is it called sand because it is between the sea and the land? Wow. That kind of nonsense.

Footsteps were heard from behind. «Hi guys!»

«Hello Ten!» We salute the Ten Percent. «Good day.»

«Good morning! What are you talking about today?»

Ice Cream said, “Did you know that Emilio Estevez and Charlie Sheen are brothers?”

«I’m not sure I know who those people are, but no, I didn’t. I guess that’s pretty crazy?»

“Life is crazy,” Ice Cream said.

We all agreed. We agreed and finished the hike to Grand Lake together, taking the highway and avoiding the snow that still clings to the upper section of Rocky Mountain National Park. Our mutual friend Frito was up there somewhere, taking the inefficient path, seeing the snow-capped peaks, breathing cold, icy air. Move slower, perhaps, but live just the same.