Log Books and Sketch Books and Ledger Books, Oh My!
“Art is time spent doing some little thing that tells you something about yourself. ”
ULTRALIGHT SCHMULTRALIGHT
Sometimes I think my trail name should be Notebook.
I carry three on every hike.
So much for ultralight.
I know, I know. Everything I do in a notebook I could do on my phone.
I could log daily miles on my phone.
I could record random observations, thoughts and ideas that would otherwise escape into the interstices of my brain on my phone.
I could sketch lunchtime waterfalls and sunbathing box turtles and rare orange orchids on my phone.
But don’t we all do too much on our phones as it is?
Plus, hiking is an analog activity that pairs well with analog documentation. And at the end of the hike, I have a tangible memento that is a distinct pleasure to hold in my hand. I like the feel of holding and perusing a completed notebook, pages warped by watercolor and ink and love.
CAPTURING THE EPHEMERAL
Also I like the feel of a pen in my hand. I like the way ink flows across paper. The nib of my fountain pen—a white Lamy Safari with waterproof gray ink—glides over the fine paper of the Japanese notebook that rides in my shoulder pouch, kept close for quick access, to capture those random thoughts before they escape. I get my best ideas while walking and dedicate time each morning to cultivating them.
LINGERING OVER A LONGER SKETCH PROJECT
Compare the smoothness of pen on Japanese paper to how it skips over the bumps and valleys of my sketchbook, with its rough paper thirsty for color. It’s a book to linger over, usually with the small palette of watercolor paints I also tuck into my pack.
Sketching helps me better see my surroundings. Sketching cajoles me into looking more closely and, as a perk, remembering in more detail later, long after the pack has been put away.
IT’S ABOUT MORE THAN WALKING
It’s not just the walking I want from a long distance hike. I’m not there just to churn out miles, though churning has its charms at times. The downside of churning, though, for me, at least, is the not remembering.
When I bend my head to the trail, blinders on, I cease to pay close attention to anything but the ground moving beneath my feet.
It’s easy to be seduced by the forward momentum, but the dirt and rocks and roots flying by. But then I’m left at the end of the day wondering, “Where did the day go? What was the point? What did marvels did I notice?”
AND IT’S ABOUT MORE THAT JUST DATA
At the end of the day, I want to have more to commit to my log book than just the facts I can look up on a map. I want that data, too. Where I started. Where I settled for the night. How many miles I hiked. How many total miles I’ve accumulated on the trip. The meta-data helps maintain momentum.
But I want to be able to look back in three months or three years and reminisce over the little details that slip through the cracks of memory. I like to include a simple drawing, usually silly, definitely no da Vinci, because those are the funnest to skim back through.
I want to remember at a glance the guys standing around an actual percolator. The three little bears up a tree, stacked one on top of another, heads all turned in my direction. The orange flower I’d never seen that turned out to be a yellow-fringed orchid, elusive and ephemeral and rare.
THE SYSTEM
It’s taken me a while to perfect my notebook system.
THE DAILY LOGBOOK
My most important notebook is my daily logbook, where, at the end of the day, I track the meta-data and reminisce about my day. It’s only recently that I’ve realized what I love about the logbook are the little sketches that accompany the words. So later I can flip through and, with no effort at all, glance at a picture and let the memories wash over me.
That daily logbook is a Moleskine Cahier soft cover lined notebook, size 5” x 8.25”. One notebook lasts about 250 miles.
THE QUICK-DRAW NOTEBOOK
I carry an Oasis Notebook, but Profolio, A6 Size (4.1” x 5.8”) in my shoulder pouch. This is the one I reach for most, stopping frequently to jot down ideas or things I want to remember about the day. Sometimes sketching turtles that look like they’re gonna bounce.
At the end of the day, when I’m filling my log book, I’ll pull this one out to flesh out the entry in my log book.
At the end of my hike, It serves as a prompt book, full of personalized writing prompts and nuggets of ideas that I want to explore more fully in my writing practice.
THE SKETCHBOOK
Finally, my sketchbook, a Stillman and Birn soft cover Alpha, size 3.5” x 5.5” or 5.5” x 8.5” if I’m feeling strong. To be honest, this is the one I could probably leave home, along with all the small palette, tiny water bottle, travel paintbrush.
For all my good intentions, I don’t actually sketch that much on trail. I make a lot of excuses—too hot, too cold, too many bugs, gotta do the miles, and, always, at the end of the day, too tired.
But I just can’t seem to quit the idea of being someone whose job it is to record, in hand-generated images, the details of her day.
It’s an image of myself I just can’t release.
So I carry the sketch kit. All 8 ounces of it.
And when I do sit and sketch, I never regret it. And not once have I not made my miles because I stopped to draw and paint.
Maybe I carry all these notebooks in my pack precisely to give my pack heft. My hefty pack slows me down. Thus slowed, I’m sure to stop frequently, to pay attention, to witness. For my extra effort, I’ll be rewarded for years with memories I refuse to let slip by.
