An Exchange of Soles—Ten Days in The Wilderness of Idaho

“Paul, what size of shoe do you wear?”

“Around a 9, why?

It’s two days into mine and Paul’s 100-mile backpacking trip and I have a blister the size of a quarter on each of my heels. We’ve traveled all of 16 miles and I’m starting to limp.

We spent over a year planning this trip, I trained for months, we researched and planned our food down to the calorie and ounce. And now I’m starting to wonder if we’re going to be able to finish this trip.

Defeated before we had even made it through our second day.

“How would you feel about trading insoles?” I ask.

Paul, in his never-ceasing compassion for those around him, agrees without complaint.

We start walking again and I immediately feel better. Within an hour I’m almost pain-free.

Camaraderie and Kindness

This last month (August 2020) Paul and I took a dream backpacking trip through the Selway-Bitterroot Wilderness of Northern Idaho. Ten days on the trail of spectacular sights, sounds, and conversation.

Of everything I experienced on this trip, mine and Paul’s exchange of soles is the event that best characterizes two of the greatest outcomes of time spent in the outdoors—camaraderie and kindness.

Being in the outdoors is one of those rare activities that bring people together in ways most activities don’t. Part of this is due to the shared interest in an activity. But more so I believe it is because experiences in the outdoors are stripped down to basic universal concepts felt by everyone: change, survival, beauty, growth, and so forth.

This means that while people may be in the outdoors for different reasons, there is a feeling of us all being in it together.

As the National Park Service puts it, “not all people will agree on the meaning of or share the same perspective towards a universal concept, but all people will relate to the concept in some significant way.”

Helping Others in the Outdoors

In reflecting on this concept, I thought back to experiences I’ve had in the outdoors where I’ve bonded with or been helped by my fellow humans—

A stranger giving me painkillers halfway up Mount Saint Helens.

Advice and support to and from fellow rock climbers in Joe’s Valley.

New friends sharing their hiking poles or stoves with me so I could experience them for myself.

Many experiences asking or being asked for directions or distances

Just last week I met a woman at a trailhead in Olympic National Park that had some concerns before starting off on their first solo backpacking trip. We ended up hanging out for hours when our paths crossed that night and the next morning, making two solo trips much more interesting.

And the list goes on.

A Government of Two

This camaraderie in the outdoors is one of the reasons I love the outdoor community so much, but even more so it’s why I love backpacking.

When backpacking with others you are all looking out for each other. The wellbeing of the individual benefits the whole group. You share supplies, you share tasks, you navigate and make decisions together. It hurts the group when there is impatience, frustration, or selfishness. Paul and I like to describe this as our own government of two.

Of course, this sort of camaraderie exists in other situations but backpacking heightens the experience. There are fewer tasks to be done, more time spent together, and few supplies—I couldn’t just go buy new insoles while on our trip, we made do with what we had.

Luckily, Paul is an ideal person to have a government of two with. He is always looking out for others, eager to help, eager to make sure everyone’s needs are met, eager to learn and to teach, and he’s a good outdoorsman.

A Model for Life

I finished our 100-mile backpacking trip with increased gratitude for many things.

One was increased gratitude for the amazing friend Paul is.

Another was gratitude for the outdoors and how it facilitates so many people of different backgrounds and interests to work together. Sure, there are still jerks in the backcountry and there are many different viewpoints on how public lands are used. But the outdoors has a way of bringing people together who may not cross paths otherwise.

On mine and Paul’s last night of our trip, we met a gunslinging cowboy who had been out scouting for elk on horseback with his son. We talked for a few minutes and he told us how he had shot a rattlesnake the night before. When he left he said they were camping just down the trail and if we needed anything to holler.

Other than growing up in Idaho, I doubt Paul and I had much of anything in common with this man. From our brief interaction, I would bet we have drastically different world views as well as differing opinions on the purpose of public lands. But that didn’t matter. I had no doubt if we had needed anything or been any danger, he would have helped me and Paul. His offer was sincere.

The next day, as we passed his camp, we greeted each other as friends and he told us how he had shot another rattlesnake.

Putting Differences Aside

There are many differences between the people in the world but being out in public lands lessens those differences.

Personally, it helps give me a model of how I want to live my life and interact with other people. It makes me want to share those public lands with others. And I believe sharing these experiences will help bring people of different backgrounds closer together and on a common footing.

Conclusion

On the last day of our trip, Paul ended up getting some blisters too. He stopped using any insole at all and doubled up on his socks and was much more comfortable.

Needless to say, I returned the terrible insoles to REI quite disgusted with them. They did however facilitate a lesson, so I guess it wasn’t all bad.

Do you have experiences where you saw how the outdoors brought people closer together? We’d love to hear about it! Leave a comment, send us an email, or share your experience on Instagram with #slowtheparks