This morning, a small herd of 12 migrated out of the shelter to enjoy a glorious breakfast courtesy of Fresh Ground. This time, we knew Fresh Ground’s breakfast was coming because Fresh Ground also served lunch yesterday and told us a time and place to meet in the morning. The promise of breakfast kept the whole lunch group together last night – Moonpants, Bacitracin, Captain Chaos, and Bearded Frog, plus a host of other fine folks that we caught up to and have now pushed ahead of.
Fresh Ground’s routine
For six months of the year, Fresh Ground sets up two meals per day for AT hikers. His system is pretty elaborate, with drink coolers, propane stove and blaster, tables, chairs, and of course, gourmet food. I like to linger at Fresh Ground’s rather than rush in and out. I stuck around for the take down both days, learning about the process. I asked Fresh Ground if he gets tired of the repetitive set up and take down. “No,” he said. At various times in our interaction, he added these phrases: “I’m just thinking about other things.” “This gives me something to do. I need to do this.” “I love organization.” and “I’m good at repetition.”
Spices other than variety
Willingness to cheerfully or at least mindlessly do some laborious or undesirable task is a wonderful trait in a friend. But I crave variety, want to be mentally stimulated, enjoy trying something new. I tend not to stay in the same place for long, repeat the same running route, or enjoy menial tasks like doing dishes or commuting. This contributed to my desire to attempt a thru-hike. Each day, you wake up in a new place, something unexpected surely imminent. Maybe you run into Fresh Ground. Maybe you come across somebody new and strike up a conversation. Maybe you listen to a podcast on energy policy. Maybe you find a place of minimal mental distraction to think a thought. This potential motivates me.
At the same time, each day on a thru-hike is a sequence of tens of thousands of identical footsteps over a mottled carpet of gray oak leaves. The breeze blows, and I pass some streams. Nothing really changes. So there’s a contradiction: I dislike monotony, but I enjoy walking all day every day. Is there a parallel between my experience hiking and Fresh Ground’s effortless ability to pack up a kitchen, or are these activities fundamentally different?
When I approach a monotonous task, I often think constantly about the task, feeling bored or trapped by it. “What a pain,” I will think. I feel aware of my expenditure of self-control. Fresh Ground avoids this by executing the setup with the more robotic part of the brain, leaving the rest of the brain’s capacity open to listen or think. And he overcomes monotony by framing the task as bringing structure to his own life, putting himself in control. We all like to be in control. It’s possible to engage socially, to daydream, to process, or to be still and quiet while doing something else. I know more about what this feels like after 46 days on the trail, walking but meanwhile thinking of other things. I wonder whether my ability to walk while leaving most mental capacity open will translate to other routine tasks like doing dishes, cleaning the kitchen, or filling bags of beans at the food pantry.
It helps to be charitable
There is also something to be said about monotonous acts becoming easier when they are done for the sake of others. Psychologically, we more readily present a willingness to sacrifice when others will benefit. For ourselves, we are lazy. In Fresh Ground’s case, I imagine witnessing the satisfaction of those he feeds outweighs the tedium of repeating the same tasks twice each day, every day.
More broadly, then, focusing on the outcome of a necessary but boring task might make the execution of the task easier. For Fresh Ground, the set up and take down prepare and make possible the true purpose, the feeding of people. Setup and cleanup are necessary but not sufficient. A similar conclusion can be said of many menial tasks at every business or organization. For me, the footsteps enable the conversations, creativity, and physical challenge on trail. The ends make the means more palatable?
