The Uphill Climb

Do you have any plans for the summer?" I asked Jamie as he finished examining the foundation at one of our upcoming listings. "Gonna do a little hiking?" I added wryly. (Jamie doesn't do a "little" hiking; this guy tackles mountains.)

"Yes," he enthusiastically responded. "In fact, I'm off on a 9-day solo backpacking trip next week."

"You're going alone?" I asked. "Is that safe?"

"I'll have a GPS locator,' he said, "but my friends no longer join me. They know I like a good hard challenge." (Sounds grueling.)

Years ago, I ventured into the mountains near Big Sur for a backpacking weekend with my then boyfriend (Cliff absolutely does NOT backpack), and by the time we made camp hours later, my feet were blistered, my back was in PAIN, my shoulders were raw, and the idyllic setting near the river was swarming with gnats, requiring netting to keep them out of my eyes and ears.

In spite of the beauty (and it was beautiful), the day was hot and miserable, and hours into our adventure — with no clear end in sight — all I could focus on was the certainty that in 48 hours, I'd have to hike back out, blisters and all. (Come to think of it, I'm not sure I lasted 48 hours.) I couldn't wait to make it back to civilization to a hot shower, and to a comfortable bed.

Not that I haven't done my fair share of camping or day hiking. I'm on the Redwood Regional trails most mornings with our dog, Riley, and I love a good long walk on the beach anytime of year. Ready to explore The Headlands for a few hours? Sign me up. Cliff and I have even tackled the Swiss Alps, but between you and me, it wasn't exactly "The Sound of Music."

"Today, we're going to climb above the tree line," the fit, young guides would say, gesturing WAY up the mountain, as we gathered for our morning prep. At which point I would cast my eyes upwards from our starting point in the valley and think, "that's gotta be eight or nine miles UP" (and so it was). No matter, everyone, regardless of their condition or skill level, successfully tackled the climbs and lived to tell the tale. By the end, we were all fast friends.

Here's the thing, whether you're an enthusiastic climber or a downhill specialist like me, you quickly learn that you can get anywhere simply by putting one foot in front of the other. It may be slow, it may be uncomfortable, it may even be tedious, but you will absolutely reach the goal if you set your mind (and your feet) to the task at hand.

When Sarah and I meet with Sellers who are clearly overwhelmed at the prospect of moving, and don't know where to begin, we tell them to focus on what's right in front of them. Purge, pack, donate, and toss, but move into action. The important thing is to start.

Still stuck? There are plenty of folks who can help. From packers, to haulers, to organizers, to gardeners, to cleaners; there is an entire cottage industry of specialists who tackle these types of chores on a daily basis and make their livings doing so. In other words, "call in the troops!" And while there is a fee connected to other people's expertise and labor (that's only fair), what you'll save in time and anguish should more than make up for the cost to unload your stress. Believe me, they're worth it.

So pick up those hiking poles and let's get started. Admittedly, there's a mountain to climb, but remember, you won't be doing it alone. Like our fearless Backroad's leaders, we're here to guide you every step of the way.

How can we help you?