The Trailmaster Inc

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Excerpted from John McKinney’s The Hiker’s Way. The Wonder Years My unusual career path began when I was a Boy Scout in Troop 441 in Downey, California. I lived for the monthly hikes in the mountains, deserts and forest around California, and for weeklong summer hikes in the San Gabriel Mountains and the High Sierra. Hiking was far and away my favorite merit badge earned on my way to becoming an Eagle Scout. (It should have been a tip-off that I wasn’t cut out to be a Wall Street mogul when I needed three tries to pass the test for the Personal Finances merit badge.) When I was fourteen, my parents sat me down for what they characterized as a frank discussion about my future. “John, your mother and I appreciate how fun this hiking-camping-outdoors stuff is for you,” my father began. “But let’s face it, you’re not going to be doing this as an adult.” “When I’m a grown-up, I’m going to keep hiking,” I declared. “What your father’s saying,” my mother chimed in, “is nobody makes a living by hiking.” “You need to take up a sport that will help you in the business world,” my father continued in the persuasive manner that garnered him salesman-of-the-year honors at the huge corporation he represented. “So we’ve decided to help you out by—” “Not another tennis racket,” I whined. “No, you’re going to be surprised,” mother cautioned, as my father disappeared into the next room, soon re-emerging with— “Golf clubs,” I said glumly. “And a certificate for eight lessons at the club,” Father enthused. My heart sank. I had been hoping for a new backpack. I took the golf lessons to please my parents, but my heart wasn’t in it. For me, golf was a good walk ruined, years before I ever heard of the Mark Twain quip. Trails and Trojans My studies for a degree in broadcast journalism from the University of Southern California proved to be somewhat useful to my life’s work; more so were my collegiate extracurricular activities. I helped found, and lead hikes for, the U.S.C. Hiking Club. While the cheerleaders for the football team looked good on TV, the coeds who hiked looked great on the trail—and that made them the most interesting and attractive on campus—at least to my way of thinking. The post-hike beers with my fellow hikers, when we talked about our next hikes and where our life paths may lead, I remember even now. Hikes in the Hollywood Hills For a while, I did the Hollywood hustle, working as a location scout and nature film writer by day, writing the Great American screenplay at night (If you know a producer interested in biopic about John Muir, “John of the Mountains” is a great script…) Between film screenings and pitch meetings, I went for hikes in the Hollywood Hills. I discerned that the hills are blanketed with a green-leaved, red-berried native plant called California holly—which gave Hollywood its name. I discovered I greatly preferred being on top of hills and looking down at Hollywood than being in Hollywood and looking up at the hills.

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