|
編按：本文作者露意莎是聖城培德中學與法界佛教大學的英文老師
當漢娜‧彼德森一年多前決定開始步行時，她住在亞利桑那州的一個名叫「陽城」的高地沙漠小鎮，距離最近的巴士站是在八十哩外。
這位二十三歲的婦女解釋道：「我開始步行，是因為我的良心不能讓我上車！只要良心讓我無法坐小汽車，我將會步行、騎單車及搭乘公共運輸工具。」
我感到驚訝，我以前從未見過一個存心反對私人交通工具的人。身為一個選擇燃料的積極份子，我了解被石油工業所蹂躪的衝擊；但是在加州鄉下（這是個由汽車工業所開拓的州），過完全無車的日子，卻需要修改主要的生活方式。她甚至不搭乘我美麗的銀色生化柴油轎車!我知道自己必須從這個女人身上去學一些道理。
當漢娜在一個森林救火隊工作時，她周遭環境及她的生活，由於交通工具的衝擊，使她變得越來越沮喪。
她說：「這真是弄得我快要發狂！我在這些漂亮的地方，只能注意卡車的窗外──他們總是開地這麼快！那不是我要的生活方式。」
這個年輕女人很勤奮地計劃她的單人徒步哩數：從一個蜿蜒且人煙稀少的小溪河床，越過杉木、矮松和大牧場，到達位於「星球市」的巴士站。當時她的朋友們非常耽憂，並且慷慨地提供車乘，但漢娜已經有所準備了。她請教一些長期的居民，而且查照櫻桃溪地帶的森林地圖手冊。
漢娜坦承：「起初我覺得害怕，所以我盡最大努力去做好計劃。」
當消防隊在夏末暫時解散的時候，漢娜揹著她的所有物和兩加侖的水，開始動身。她在涼爽的時段步行，熱的時段她睡在蔭涼處；並且通常每隔十哩，就找到了有水的洞穴，她用碘淨水，然後裝滿她的水壺。天氣是超級的熱──幾近一百度。
漢娜解釋道：「『陽城』是一個高地沙漠，海拔五千一百二十九英呎。但是在你一路走向『星球市』之際，它就絕不是個沙漠了──它真的是個讓人熱得汗流浹背的東西。我步行的第一天，擺脫掉了這個高漠；接下來兩天的徒步在一個混合區，那裡依然有一些矮松及杜松，但溫度更高而且遮蔭處更少。那些由河川支流所造成的峽谷，變得更陡峭而且更崎嶇；但是在支流的尾端，仍然有油沃的綠洲。在最後的兩天，已不再看到高樹景致，只有仙人掌、多刺的梨和各式的其他仙人掌、響尾蛇以及「多毛毒蜘蛛」（俗稱「舞蹈蜘蛛」，狼蜘蛛屬，乃產於義大利南部的毐蜘蛛）。有一晚我步行至深夜，並且看到一個令人吃驚的景象，生長在路旁的砂礫中 ── 一個潔白的磨菇，那是一種沙漠磨菇。真令人驚訝！」
漢娜預計徒步旅行會不到六十英哩，因為從陽城到星球市的砂礫路只有四十二英哩。她瞭解迂迴的河床路線（一段結實的八十英哩路程）是遠得多了，所以她每天步行超過十二英哩。
「我在那時拼命地趕路，急著要見我的男朋友克理斯。」漢娜難為情地補充。
自從初次以六天步行到巴士站算起，漢娜已有數次揹著所有物步行的經驗，包括一個和她同伴克理斯‧肯尼至聖塔巴巴拉市區的一百二十英哩的徒步旅行。
她說：「它真是改變你的眼界！現在十五英哩只是一日行。」
漢娜和克理斯跟我約在瑜珈市這個小城共進午餐。她們必須步行三英哩的下坡山路到達巴士站，然後搭乘舒適的迷你巴士越過群山，才能抵達瑜珈市。當我們細讀精緻的有機菜單時，低醣飲食觀念，在我眼前突然顯得荒謬而可笑，步行的人是不須要低醣飲食的。
我想到那些只吃少量精緻味美的沙拉，並開著他們那足以燃燒卡路里的車子離去的人；然後我意識到自己也是其中之一，也想我是否可以在沒有車輛的情況下掌控生活。
漢娜說：「關於步行有一件事就是：它也改變了你的生活型態。它讓一些事變得不可能，你得要習慣於不四處亂逛──你必須非常滿意你所在之處。有時候在星期六晚上，你想出去；但你就像整個星期一樣，待在家裡靠在暖爐邊烤火。」
或許選擇步行最棒的一件事是：能了解路況，是多麼的有趣。現在我非常熟悉路況，並且可以看到微小的改變，我開始欣賞我所持的立場。」
樸素的衣著、咖啡色的長髮、鐵框的眼鏡，使漢娜看來像個典型的大學生；然而她散發出一種特別充滿健康活力的光輝，而且說起話來，就像理路清晰而充滿責任感的人那麼言簡意賅。
「最近某日我想著去北蒙特拿的界河駕獨木舟，」漢娜愁悶地回想著：「但是我無法到那裡。之後我了解到，我全然忽略了我所經過的田野」。
她的意見給了我一點啟示，她使我體會到每週我花了多少的時間在車上，用我對周遭環境輕漠的心，充滿壓力地往返於目的地之間。
漢娜對於她哲學的總結論仍停留在我的耳畔：「步行須要一種完全不同的生活步調。你必須用時間和空間來計算人類的步伐」。
我和我的丈夫，以身為兩輛生化柴油轎車的擁有者為傲。那可愛的一九八九年廠德國VW牌捷特型車，已經到了無法修復的地步；從我和漢娜的談論之後，我們就決定不更換它了。住在距離小鎮十英哩遠的地方，而沒有私人交通工具，總需要有許多長程機智的折衝方式可行：在山丘間的長途單車騎乘、在人跡稀少的巴士站長時間的等候，及長途的平靜步行……但這些方法，都必須試著去身體力行。
|
|
Editor's note: Louisa is our ESL teacher at Developing Virtue Schools and Dharma Realm Buddhist University.
When Hannah Peterson decided to start walking over a year ago she was living in the tiny high desert town of Young, Arizona. The closest bus stop was 80 miles away.
“I started walking because my conscience wouldn’t let me go in a car,” explained the 23 year-old woman. “As long as my conscience makes it impossible for me to get in a car I’ll keep walking, biking and using public transportation.”
I was astounded. I had never met a conscientious objector to private vehicles before. As an alternative fuel activist, I knew the rap about devastation caused by the petroleum industry. But a completely carfree existence in rural California - a state colonized by the automobile industry – requires major lifestyle modifications. She wouldn’t even accept a ride in my spiffy silver biodiesel car! I knew I had something to learn from this woman.
While working on a fire crew for the forest service, Hannah became increasingly frustrated with the impact of vehicles on the environment and her life. “It was driving me crazy,” she said. “I’d be in these beautiful places and just looking out the (truck) window…they were always driving so fast. That’s not how I want to live.”
Diligently the young woman planned her walk along miles of a winding sparse creek bed through cedars, pinon trees, and ranchland to the bus stop in Globe. Her friends were very concerned and profusely offered rides but Hannah was prepared. She consulted with long-time residents and examined forest service maps of the Cherry Creek area.
“I was scared at first,” she admitted. “So I tried to plan as best I knew.”
When the fire crew was laid off at the end of the summer, Hannah set off with all her possessions and two gallons of water on her back. She did her walking in the cool hours, slept in a shady spot during the hot hours, and usually found a water hole every ten miles. There she purified drinking water with iodine and refilled her water containers. The weather was “super hot – in the upper 90’s”.
She explained: “Young is high desert, it’s elevation is 5129 feet. By the time you get to Globe however it is by no means high desert, it’s the real ‘hot sweaty thing’. I spent the first day of my walk ‘dropping out’ of the high desert. For the next two days of hiking it was a mixture. There was still some pinon and juniper but is was hotter and had less cover. The tributary canons became steeper and more rugged, but there were still nice lush oases in the canon bottoms. The last two days there were no longer trees in the landscape, just saguaro and prickly pear and an assortment of other cactus, rattlesnakes and tarantulas. I walked late into the night one night and saw an amazing sight growing on the side of the road out of the gravel, a pure white mushroom, a desert mushroom, amazing.”
Hannah was expecting the hike to be less than 60 miles because the gravel road from Young to Globe is only 42 miles. She learned that the twisty river bed route is much longer - a good 80 miles, so she was putting in over twelve miles a day.
“I was pushing it. I was in a hurry to see my boyfriend Chris,” she added blushingly.
Since that first six-day walk to the bus stop, Hannah has taken several walks with all her possessions on her back, including a 120-mile walking trip into downtown Santa Barbara with her partner, Chris Kinney.
“It really changes your perspective,” she said. “Now 15 miles is a day hike.”
Hannah and Chris met me for lunch in the small city of Ukiah. To reach Ukiah they had traveled three miles down a mountain road to the bus stop, and then had ridden the cozy mini-bus 25 miles over the mountains. As we perused the elegant organic menu, the absurdity of low-carbohydrate diets was suddenly revealed to me. People who walk don’t need low-carb diets.
I thought of all those people eating dainty little salads and driving away in their calorie-burning cars. Then I realized I was one of those dainty salad-eaters, and wondered if I could handle life without a vehicle.
“One of the things about walking is that it becomes a lifestyle change,” said Hannah. “It makes some things impossible. You have to get used to not going places – you have to be super content where you are. Sometimes on a Saturday night you want to go out but you stay home close to your fire like you did all week.”
“Probably the best thing about choosing to walk is that it’s so fun getting to know the road. Now I know the road well, and see little things change. I get to appreciate where I’m at.”
With her modest clothing, long brown hair, and wire-rimmed glasses, Hannah appears to be the quintessential college student. However she exudes an uncommon glow of vibrant health, and speaks with the focused clarity of a person whose mind is not cluttered with excess obligations.
“One day recently I was thinking about canoeing in the Boundary Waters in Northern Montana,’ she recalled wistfully. “But there was no way I could get there. Then I realized that the whole time I hadn’t been noticing the fields I was walking through.”
Her comment opened a little door in my brain, as I realized how much time every week I spend in a vehicle, stressfully destination-bound, with my mind oblivious of my surroundings.
Hannah’s summation of her philosophy has stayed in my ears: “Walking requires a totally different pace of life. It takes time and space and puts it in the measurement of a human footstep.”
My husband and I are proud owners of two biodiesel cars. The beloved 1989 VW Jetta has passed into the irreparable zone, and since my discussion with Hannah Peterson, we have decided not to replace it. Living ten miles from town without a personal vehicle always available, requires a lot of long tactful negotiations, long bike rides on hills, long waits at a lonely bus stop, and long peaceful walks, but we’re going to give it a try.
|
