MOUNTAIN LIFE - Coast Mountains | Fall Winter 2019

137 words :: Asta Kovanen We’re moving north along the eastern edge of Loch Lomond, one of the largest freshwater lakes in the United Kingdom, as well as a threshold into the Scottish Highlands. It has been raining on and off, so part of the morning is spent waiting in a bothy (UK version of a backcountry hut) for the downpour to abate. My friend Britt Vegsund and I are three days into a 155-kilometre walk along the West Highland Way and falling into the basic rhythm that arises when the sole obligation for the day is to make it to the next destination. We’re traveling light, having relinquished our bags to a luggage- transfer service, and feel joyously unburdened despite the development of blisters. Phones are on airplane mode, boots are laced up, water bottles filled, and there’s nothing to do but walk. It’s a welcome change from the high pace of “regular” life and the high-speed internet, connections that bombard us with inboxes infilling, to-do lists growing, notifications pinging, audiobooks, podcasts, and an ever-expanding news frontier. Humanity is in the midst of a technology boom and we feel both buoyed and bereft in this sea of newness. As a species, we’ve spent most of our 200,000 years on this planet moving ourselves around rather slowly and learning to survive in varying environments. New ways of being have come about fast and furious in the last few centuries, but how we’re coping individually and collectively is another matter. Much has been said, studied, debunked and confirmed about the addictive qualities of apps, social media, video games and other technologies. One study was self-explanatorily titled “Brain Drain: The Mere Presence of One’s Own Smartphone Reduces Available Cognitive Capacity” (check it out in the Journal of the Association for Consumer Research , Apr.’17, Vol.2, #2). As technology becomes an anchor to many aspects of our lives and society, some academics propose that the term Technocene “the age of the machine-human symbionts” is a better descriptor for this era than the more commonly used Anthropocene (the current geological age, viewed as the period during which human activity has been the dominant influence on climate and the environment). Fascinating? Freaky? Yes to both. Cal Newport is an author and professor of computer science at Georgetown University who advocates for cultivating skills of deep focus and attention by drastically reducing exposure to attention-grabbing technology. After reading a few of his books, I did what many do to test themselves—I took a break, shutting down accounts for a month, un-installing apps, and paying closer attention to compulsive tendencies to refresh email and check the time on my phone. I didn’t miss much except seeing updates from real-life friends on visual platforms, so after a month offline I went back, but with more attention to how and when I use various platforms, rather than taking Newport’s advice to turn away completely. And a 155-km walk is a great way to put my new plan into place. Leaving the bothy, walking in congenial post-lunch silence along a forested lakeside trail, I realize we have companions keeping pace with us. A pair of swans glides northerly along the shores, shadowing us for nearly an hour. It feels like the decision to take a long-distance, low-adrenaline, low-consequence, limited tech-access walk with a friend has been a good reboot for my nervous system. A reminder on how low-key living can feel very good. And how else would I have known that matching a swan’s pace was the exact speed I needed to go? WELLNESS BE THE SWAN Unplugging the phone and outrunning the Technocene era, as slowly as possible Google Earth was developed in the early ‘90s for a gaming software demo. The technology was purchased in 2001 by Google after they realized more than 25 per cent of their searches were of a geospatial character. Silence is golden. PABLO ORCARA