Hiking with a Camera
It's like a breath of fresh air. A breath that doesn't scorch your lungs as you inhale and dry out your nostrils to the point of discomfort. The sun no longer radiates its hellfire down upon me as I cling to whatever sliver of shade the waist-high shrubbery provides. The desert, and all the discomfort along with it, is finally behind me. It wasn't all bad. Through those 700 miles of winding trails and strenuous terrain, I was able to make a few good friends and share some belly laughs over our less-than-ideal circumstances at times. However, now that I've spent over a week in the Sierra Nevada, I think it's safe to say that I'm grateful that the desert section of the PCT is behind me. As beautiful as it was, my mind, body, and spirit have never been tested before to this extent. As grand of an accomplishment as it might seem, I have to keep reminding myself that I still have over 1900 miles until the Canadian border.
Even as I am in the middle of my hike, I still find it difficult to fathom that I've traveled such a great distance on foot. All the while, I've had a camera strapped to my chest and ready for use at a moment's notice. Part of the reason as to why I set out on this monumental journey is to document the entire process and create a film that encompasses what a thru-hike is all about in addition to raising awareness for wilderness conservation (hence my partnership with the Sierra Nevada Alliance).
I see now that this was a huge commitment on top of an already difficult task. Many hikers, for instance, care deeply about the weight of their packs. Oftentimes, they will spend hundreds or even thousands of additional dollars on purchasing the most lightweight gear on the market. Meanwhile, I'm having to hike with my camera, a lens, extra batteries, extra battery banks, hard drives, a portable back-up unit, and lens filters on top of the hiking gear necessary to complete the journey! My pack is heavy. Not substantially heavier than the average, but even a few pounds carried thousands of miles equates to a lot of extra work being done.
Carrying my extra gear is certainly a burden. Yet, since I am focusing on collecting footage, I oftentimes find myself slowing down a bit more than I normally would. By doing this, I am giving myself more time to enjoy my surroundings. In other words, my camera gives me a great excuse to pick my eyes up off of the trail in front of me and search for a frame that adds to the story. It might sound strange, but when hiking twenty or more miles day after day, it becomes difficult to enjoy your surroundings at times - even in a place like the Sierra Nevada. The filmmaking process has shaken me from this hiker's tunnel vision many times and has allowed me to take a second to really appreciate the journey in moments that I normally would not. Additionally, I'm collecting many hours of footage of not just the landscape, but also of my dear friends that I am making along the way. These are moments that I will always be able to cherish and even share with others.
It's not easy making a documentary, as one might guess. That's because there is no script or rule book. Essentially, all I am doing is capturing fragments of time over several months on the trail and having faith that by the end of it all, I will be able to connect these fragments into a well-formed narrative that also ties in with conservation. The great thing about being on trail is that there is little to do besides hike and think! I have a few ideas brewing as to how I might tackle this challenge, but need a bit more time to work out a few more kinks. In the meantime, I will continue to enjoy my experience in the wilderness, collect and create content, and do everything I can to help the Sierra Nevada Alliance and its mission!
