But Saturday morning, I was completely unaware of and ignorant to the state of the terrain I was about to cover for the next 12+ miles of wilderness.
We were all content and full of bliss due to the fantastic scenery we enjoyed the night before: the sunset, the green, the rolling fog, the star-gazing. We were also full of Scum-playing, mint Oreos, and fruit-by-the-foot.
It was a happy state of affairs.And then we slowly began to discover that a leisurely stroll with our packs on was not going to be out fate. Instead, we spent a lot of time carving steps out of the sides of mountains--
mountains complete with killer shoots and lots and lots of snow pack. And since my scare in White Pine Canyon a couple of years ago where I slid more feet than I care to remember down a snow patch, I honestly have a rather intense fear of crossing these snow packs. So being faced with having to cross 20+ snow packs in one day really tested my limits and made me feel completely vulnerable. But the mind really does drive the body and while I hated crossing each and every snow pack, I stopped myself from reverting to my toddler-self and sitting down on a rock to pout--as tempting as it was at times.
The hike would have also been much easier if we hadn't gotten lost and had to bushwhack through mud and bushes or had frightening, tense, hopeless moments watching Kristina and Ryan slip and fall.
Eventually, we were not as happy or fresh as we were at the beginning of our trek. Seeing a big horn sheep was a bright spot. As was the company.
The dog, Diego, definitely mirrored all of our feelings when we got off that mountain. We were exhausted--both body and soul.And yet, Kristina and I are already discussing our next trip. I'm voting for a leisurely stroll in the mountains. I think she may second this motion.
I'm hoping that it doesn't exceed these expectations.
1 comments:
I love that first picture of you. You look so sweet... and vulnerable. :)
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