Portrait 15: Flash

I first heard Flash in NorCal. I have to say that I heard him because he rolled into camp in the middle of the night. When I woke up for the day, I couldn’t find anyone else around. There were plenty of open sites for a hiker to set up, but they were all empty. When I finished breaking down, I walked the 30 yards back to trail and I found him: a rumpled sleeping bag mushed into a lumpy slope of rocks right next to the trail. It was the worst place I’d seen anyone sleep on trail. He looked equal parts hiker and accordion. I’ve hiked around 2000 miles since then, and it’s still the worst place I’ve ever seen anyone sleep.

I never got a chance to talk to him. The weird hiker who looked quite content as a sleeping contortionist was just a vague thought sometimes. Why the hell would anyone voluntarily do that? I couldn’t decide if it was a weekender who didn’t know any better or a thru hiker who just couldn’t be bothered to look around. I finally got my answer at the Canadian border.

I was sitting at the northern terminus with my partner, and we were surprised by another hiker coming out of the forest. We started trading stories and I realized that Flash was the hiker I had heard in NorCal. He also remembered that terrible spot. He just likes night hiking and he didn’t want to disturb us when he arrived. He made it work, and we got to laugh about it together months later. That’s thru hiking.