Wednesday, February 11, 2015

“Wild” Debates On The PCT (Part Two): Caches

The Pacific Crest Trail is a National Scenic Trail that stretches approximately 2,650 miles from Mexico to Canada through California, the State of Jefferson, Oregon, and Washington.  In the recent past, every year saw a couple of hundred “thru-hikers” attempt to hike the entire trail in one hiking season.  But due to the recent success of the book and movie “Wild,” many in the trail community have expressed fears that the trail will become overcrowded with people who aren’t “real hikers.”
This author doesn’t understand how imaginary hikers could possibly cause much impact (or any impact at all), but the impact is definitely there, mainly in the form of intense debates around aspects of trail life that formerly provided us with little to no drama over the winter.

Part One of this series focused on hikers carrying large pieces of furniture on the PCT.  In Part Two of this series, we look at another suddenly controversial feature of the Pacific Crest Trail: caches of office supplies.



A hiker relaxes at Third Hole Cache
The time is spring, 2008.  The place is the PCT in Southern California.  I roll up to Third Hole Cache, open a box, select a three-hole punch, and add it to my supplies.  After writing a short “thank you” in the register (and hole punching the crap out of it), I hike on towards Barrel Springs.

Not too long ago, this was an unremarkable event on the trail.  People who provided caches of office supplies were viewed by many as trail heroes, their efforts and altruism appreciated.  Recently, however, the need for (and existence of) office supply caches has been called into question as hiking the PCT rises in popularity.

“It’s completely unnecessary,”  says Wylie “Crazyhorse” Jones.  “Hikers should be self-sufficient.  They should be carrying all of the office supplies they need, not relying on caches for paper clips and staplers and desk blotters.  But with caches out there, they do.”

The Scissors Cache has long been a source of debate,
mainly because of fears that trail runners might
carry them.



Others disagree.  According to Rachel “DurrdayFeet” Abrams, “I don’t rely on caches, but lets say I break my scissors and I need to cut my hair or do some scrapbooking or trim some filo pastry for a nice baklava?  A cache of scissors can be a godsend.  Maybe only for hirsute artsy-crafty Greeks, but still.”

Some blame the reliance on office supply caches on the emergence of lightweight gear and the hiking mindset that surrounds it.  “There was a time when hikers with 50 or 60 pound packs carried all of the office supplies they needed,” says Junaid “Speshul” Dawud, “people were prepared to travel 30 or 40 miles without counting on someone else for highlighters, Post-Its, and toner cartridges.  Today?  If the question is ‘how many three-ring binders is someone really going to carry in a ULA Circuit,’ then ‘not enough’ is the answer.”
But even that perspective is open to debate.  “The thing is,” says Namie “LetItBe” Bacile, “every small town along the trail used to have a small stationary store or something, until the big box stores put them out of business.  The Saufleys used to loan out a Chevy Suburban for supply runs to an Office Max in L.A., but they stopped doing that years ago.  Today, if you need a ream of laser printer paper?  Good luck.  Unless you hit a cache.”



One way or another,  the Swarthout Canyon Office Depot cache
may become a thing of the past.
Ultimately, says Kathryn “A-Dubs” Nicole, while caches are appreciated its the combination of numbers and reliance that creates a dangerous situation.  “It’s a safety issue.  If you’re counting on caches for basic necessities like scotch tape, Sharpies, and tri-fold poster board, what do you do if there are forty hikers ahead of you and they’ve decided to have an on-trail science fair?  You’re screwed.”

For now, the future of caches is unclear, but the problem may just resolve itself.  The resources of the people who fill office supply caches are being increasingly taxed, and some may back away from helping hikers in this way.  And as once-dependable caches full of rubber bands and dry erase board cleaner are emptied by large bubbles of hikers, the caches may come to be viewed as increasingly untrustworthy sources, thus reducing reliance.

But until then, one thing is clear: office supply caches will remain a subject of debate for people sitting behind computer screens who would rather be out hiking.






Note: Thank you to the hikers who allowed me to fake quote them for this article!