HIKER TRASH

"Hiker Trash" is a term of endearment between long distance hikers. You might be hiker trash if...

• your wallet is a Ziploc baggie
• you can "feel" a storm coming
• you can be alone and still be happy
• your spoon is your fork
• most of your friends don't know your "real" name
• you mail things to yourself
• your REI dividend is your retirement fund
• you can survive for days on nothing but Ramen and gorp
• you can't walk straight without your pack
• you choose restaurants in town based on free WiFi and electrical outlets
• you’ve had to lie down for a few hours after eating a meal in town
• you wear $20 socks but wash them in the Dunkin Donuts bathroom
• you eat enough sour candy to talk about them like they’re drugs
• a pint of Ben & Jerry’s is a normal serving of ice cream
• you break your titanium spoon on Nutella in cold weather
• you try to fry a Honey Bun in butter to add calories
• you’ve been given money because some thought you were homeless
• you completely forget what an ‘inside voice’ sounds like
• you have run stark raving mad through the woods because the stalker bee that has been flying around your head for hours finally "got to you"
• you’ve spent a cold or rainy night in the restroom of a state park
• you’ve repackaged the food you just bought into Ziploc baggies in front of the store
• you’ve searched restaurants for "free" packets of condiments in trail towns
• you have duct tape somewhere on your body
• you’ve suspended the 5 second rule when food dropped on the ground.
• you find an M&M in the dirt and eat it
• you consider Snickers bars a food group
• you consider it perfectly normal to go weeks without bathing
• you’ve diced Spam or Vienna Sausages into your Kraft Mac & Cheese
• you’ve begged food from strangers in state parks

And my favorate...

• you’ve been mistaken for a homeless person by an actual homeless person and you’re too embarrassed to tell them that you’re only on vacation

Anyway...this post isn't really about that. It's about real hiker trash...you know the stuff left over after you've eaten the candy bar, or blown your nose, or used a band aid, or... I work hard to minimize the amount of trash I'll produce and just to give you some idea of my waste footprint, below is a picture of five days of my hiking trash in a quart zip-lock baggie. I think there is room for another day...don't you?

For additional content, check out Flickr for images, YouTube for video, SoundCloud for audio, and the Postholer Map with my most recent location.

Thanks for following along!