I came up with the brilliant idea to go backpacking over memorial day weekend. We planned the route, checked the weather, checked when the trail was open, and researched backpacking with a baby. I carried Lars (22 pounds) and 20 pounds of equipment and Tor carried the rest.
Side note: there's always someone out there trying to out tuff you, and mumbling "i carried 60 pounds" to that person I say: shut the hell up, this is my story! (Yes someone said this to me recently and yes I am still bitter).
Back to story: Our trip started out beautifully, the weather was perfect, the trail was beautiful, Lars had a blast looking at trees and cooing (he is truly his father's son). Then we ran into campers who said "there's snow up ahead, be careful". We scoffed in our heads and continued on. After all, the book we had said that the end of May was the best time to hike this trail. It said that the wildflowers would be in bloom in the meadow... it was wrong.
We came upon snow about a mile later, it was very brief and again we scoffed (note to self: don't scoff at mother nature until you are positive she won't b*tch slap you for it later). We kept pressing on certain that a little snow would not slow us down. We lost and found the trail several times, and finally camped near a lake certain that the next day would be oh so much better.
Day 2 turned out the be the day that shall remain unnamed. The snow got deeper the trail harder to follow and find and my feet and legs got cold. Lars was still having a blast but I was not. Finally we stopped to rest at/on the middle of a hill/ravine and Tor decided we could no longer go forward. The trail was lost, we were nearly lost, night was coming and I was inconsolable. So, we turned around, hiked back up the mountain we had just come down, and camped in the middle of the trail (in the middle of the snow) so we would not lose it come morning. I cried a lot and Tor promised me tomorrow would be better.
The third day we turned around and hiked 12 miles up the other mountain we had just come down and back down the side we had climbed the first day. As we reached the beginning of the snow we spit on it and cursed at it and kissed the brown earth. We made it back to the car after 8 hours of hiking, drove home, ordered pizza, climbed into the hot tub at our apartment and promptly got the worst case of folliculitis ever.
I never got to see my meadow full of wildflowers, all I saw was dirty melting snow (which is impossible to walk in).
I swore the whole 2nd day and part of the 3rd that I would never step foot in the wilderness again, but like many things, the trauma has faded over time and we will be going camping this summer.
I had this recurring fear when I was pregnant and first found out that Lars was going to be a boy that I would be forever tired. I imagined my life as a long series of adventures in which I struggled to keep up with my adventurous husband and son. I am half delighted and half terrified that this prediction has become a reality.
Wish me luck...
At the beggining of our trip
Lars and I waiting for dinner in the tent
Lars' playpen of nature. We had to "fence" him in so he wouldn't crawl all over creation. He loved his little charlie brown tree.
Chillin' after dinner. Lars really liked drinking out of the camel pak
Camping in the snow. Mama was NOT happy.
Tor and Lars were much more suited to the cold weather.
Lars playing with another tree on a short break after we got out of the snow.
P.S. The weather was warm the entire time and we were never in any real danger of being lost. Tor is much too smart for that. Unfortuantely for us and some others it was a late snow season. That next day on the news I saw a report on two hikers who got lost for three days because they lost their trail in the snow.
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3 comments:
Holy crap. That IS hardcore. And I don't think you should have apologized for using the H-E-double hockey sticks. I totally would have used that one and more--especially to the Jacka$$ that mentioned they lugged 60lbs. (See, I'm trying to not offend Tor with my foul language and sassiness). :)
On the other hand, I'm way impressed with your adventures. See, I use having a baby as an excuse NOT to do anything overly time-consuming and possibly difficult. And if I didn't have a baby, I'd just have to blame it on laziness.
I LOVE this, blog, Leah. You are truly hard core, just to have married our crazy outdoor loving son. But he does have a good sense of humor, as well as a good sense of direction. Ann
Hardcore! I could NEVER carry 42 pounds. I had trouble in Yosemite when I had a 5 lb bag (water, sunscreen, hat, camera, shirt, snacks. Might not have even been 5 lbs). I'm glad you guys didn't get lost in the snow!
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