Log Man

Why Shawn Mahoney chooses his own burden

When man becomes myth, it almost inevitably ends poorly. The hubris of Icarus kindled his fall, Midas’s greed tied his hands, and Narcissus reflected the true consequences of conceit.

But when myth becomes reality, it is an entirely different story.

I live for moments where I can appreciate each of my available senses. Outside the Wānaka A&P Show, I watched a stout, prideful man in a striped bolo tie canter past me on a chestnut mare. Beside them, a produce stall campaigned for its ‘Black Pearl Peacharines’; the remnants of a punnet lined my gums as second skin. New Zealand is never silent. The world hums with harvesters and waterfalls, whistles in winds and shepherds, and cries among kea and children. If you close your eyes and cross your heart, you can hear a distant German whisper, “how long will you be travelling for?” I had asked the fabled Shawn ‘Log Man’ Mahoney to meet me in Wānaka so I could hear his story straight from the horse’s mouth. As he turned the corner, my heart beat out of my chest and I prayed the smell of burnt toast was real.

Up in New Zealand’s hippie haven, a heterochromatic fire dancer told me that the eyes are the windows to the soul, but when they’re shrouded by mountain fog, the palms come a close second. I’m getting more woo-woo by the minute, but I’m still no palm reader. As if it would have mattered anyway. The whites of his right hand flickered quickly like a flame. Too swift, too eager to be analysed, yet these emphatic motions did well to complement his confidence and charm. His left hand was glued to the log, resting on his shoulder.

Twenty-two years ago, Shawn first carried the log. His family had a strong military history, something which ripples through his life with the permanence of the celebratory ‘Triple-Crown’ tattoo printed across his chest. But long before hiking over 12,700 kilometres to complete this incredible feat, his first big three were eczema, allergies and asthma. Purpose is double-edged, a self-fulfilling force that breeds ambition alongside anxiety. A young, clumsy Shawn knew he must work to achieve his military ambitions, and built his own cross to bear.

Enter Larry the Log, stage right.

Potential is immaterial. It cannot be measured. Yet, for Shawn, the daily burden of this ten-kilogram log is far lighter than the silent weight of what he could have achieved. And so it quickly became routine to test himself and run with Larry. As he improved, Shawn collated the ‘Log Squad’, a range of logs tailored to his every need. For seventeen years, this continued relatively unnoticed. The log began a journey that carried him from the VIP tunnels of Wembley Stadium to a feature in a Matt Damon film, and even a beer brewed in his name. Now an Iraq veteran, Shawn has achieved his military goals and served valiantly as an Air Force medic.

There is something inherently martial about running with a log; no one questions a man in uniform. It was only when Shawn slowed down and began actively hiking with Larry that people had time to ask him about it. Whilst completing the 48 high peaks of New Hampshire in five weeks, sleeping in his car and often conquering multiple in a day, Shawn attracted the attention of a New Hampshire hiking group, who affectionately provided it with the nickname ‘Larry’.

Tents, hikes and huts became habitual. Opportunity followed this attention. Reflecting on his life, his passions, and his history as a military medic, he spent months completing all 3,540 kilometres of the Appalachian Trail and raised over $10,000 USD for veterans through the Wounded Warrior Project. He followed this with the Triple Crown, raising funds for St Jude Children’s Hospital and Alzheimer’s research in honour of his grandmother, totalling over $15,000. Now, at the time of this piece, Shawn has just completed Te Araroa in order to raise money for Make-A-Wish New Zealand.

The log used for this trek is fossilised in discipline, with cracks drawn tight like the thin lips of a sergeant. It is sourced from a 2,500-year-old kauri tree and was gifted to Shawn by a Trail Angel at the northernmost point of the trail. Carved in the shape of a tuna, cream pāua shells mark its eyes and pounamu stones trace its jagged jaws as emerald teeth.

On its body, stories and signatures are inscribed like the cast of a broken bone. A medic at heart, he cannot help but heal. Victims of fatigue, struggle and indifference are uniformly met by this reminder of individuality. In signing it, they are offered the chance to reignite their own.

Behind the myth, Shawn was always real. It was not shaking his hand which confirmed this, but the individuality of his mission, so deeply entrenched within his unique person and history, which is quintessentially human.

For better or for worse, contemporary society offers a series of desire paths, which have been sculpted from role models and the journeys of those before us. Each footprint is unique, just like its owner, but they combine along the same proven route, cementing it and ensuring it becomes even more established.

Nonetheless, individuality persists. Shawn presents an incredibly unique combination of passions, interests, loyalties and goals. These only come from careful introspection, the patience to cultivate them, and the courage to accept them. These opportunities, his wonderful achievements, and the countless people he has soothed and supported would all be abandoned without his pre-eminent and profound self-awareness. For him, there is no defined role model. No desire path. Only an intrinsic desire to help others, a driven, ambitious spirit, and the eccentric skill of inhibited hiking.

Like many soldiers, he is a man of ritual. He thumbs a fifteen-by-fifteen Rubik’s Cube. He rises before the sun. He sleeps as it sets. His travels undulate slowly, like breath drawn on ascent and expelled on decline. There is wonder in the myth; larger than life, but the reality is simple. Personally, I find solace in the fact there is no secret path to fulfilment. Ambition is only a man and his log, with the courage to bear it himself.

If you’d like to support Shawn’s cause, journey, or ambitions, you can follow him on Instagram @larry.the.log and make a donation here.

Cheers, Shawn.