Backpacking self discovery

Nancy and the boys getting ready to hit the trail

It has been several years since I have been on a backpacking trip. Backpacking has always been a huge love for me. After 16 years I finally got Nancy to accompany me on a trip to see the wonders and joys of carrying your stuff into the wilderness and living a minimalist life for a few days. I did, however, discover something about myself. I no longer enjoy backpacking.

Let me explain. I love the hiking. I don't mind the heavy pack...well, I mind it a bit more than I used to. I love the cooking not-so-hot meals on a one burner stove under the canopy of trees with no one else around. I love being able to strip off my clothing and jump bare ass naked into a freezing lake. All of this is over shadowed by missing really cushy sleeping mats and chairs. My body no longer enjoys sitting on the ground. I can't get comfortable enough to enjoy my book.

My hips hurt, my shoulders hurt, I can't sleep...

I never thought it would come to this.

Here is what happened. Since it was Nancy's first trip (first of many I was hoping), we strapped on the packs and hiked to the top of Upper Priest Lake. I figured that would be a good one for her; six miles with only one serious hill at the very end. The walk was great. Walter and Elliot went with us. It went downhill from there. Neither of us slept. We were on the light weight thermarest pads. They are expensive and not cushy enough for middle age. We wanted to sit on the beach and read and relax but it was impossible to get comfortable. I remembered the extra sleeping pads and folding chairs in the box on top of my car. We discussed our plight and decided to tough it out. The lake was beautiful and no one else was around. It was peaceful and quiet. Then I looked at Walter and (freshly shaved) he was shivering even though he had a sweater on. It was pretty darn cold for July. We simultaneously decided we needed to save his life and sacrifice our time in the wilderness to make him comfortable. The upper lake has its own climate. It is a lot wetter and colder. So we packed up, hiked out (me messing up the IT band in my left leg again), and went to Reeder Bay and paid for a spot overlooking the lower lake. It was noisy, crowded, and expensive but we were warm as we watched the jet skiers from our lawn chairs. Oh, and there were 5 jillion less mosquitoes.

The revised plan. When we want to camp away from other folks we are going to pack up our canoe with all of our luxury items and find some lovely beach on one of the many lakes we have around us. I mean, we have a bloody 19 foot tripping canoe. Last time we went for a weekend we took our big tent, a bbq grill, big cooler, cushy sleeping mats, big sleeping bags, the deluxe camp stove, a table and chairs and two dogs. Sounds a lot more comfortable, huh?

Elliot showing off his form

Cool old cabin

The beautiful upper lake



The upper lake again







Nancy and Elliot attempting to get comfortable (note the stocking cap and long sleeves)

A huge blowdown

The actual camping (Navigation) area with bear box in the back left

Walter walking through the big blowdown area. Some say it was a tornado.

Reeder Bay: ok, this is more like it

Still life with Elliot


On a hike along the Lakeshore trail

Mama in the water

Poodles on guard

Up

The other day I went and parked my butt down by the river for about 5 hours. I finished one book and started another. I stared at the sky. Here is what I saw from my back on a blanket...

What I saw when I sat up

Shirtless on Snow Peak

Yup, that's right. Hey, it was hot and no one was around. Walter and I got back yesterday from a three day hiatus in the Kettle Mountains. It was glorious. We stayed at the Canyon Creek Campground off Highway 20, our usual spot when we are up there.

We took a long hike (about 11 miles) on Tuesday. There was absolutely no objective to the hike. One day I started thinking about my 50 peaks by the time I am 50 thing. I was figuring out how many I had to do for the upcoming summers before I turn 50. Then I started thinking about how many weekends there are in the summer and realized that every summer and early fall weekend for the next 5 years would be consumed with this venture. I started feeling like a prisoner. There are too many places I want to go and too many things to do. Some of those 50 peaks do not even have a view! So my new thing is "A Number of Different Things Outdoors by the Time I am Older than Today." Pretty vague but it works.

SO ANYWAY...We took off on the Sherman Peak trail to see what was on the other side. Perhaps we would climb to the top of Snow Peak (we have already done Sherman Peak), perhaps not. When I got a look at the saddle we would have to go up and the rocks and tons of blowdowns from the White Mountain fire, I decided a colonoscopy sounded more fun. Instead we hooked up with the trail to the Snow Peak shelter, thinking we would check it out. Well, we were less than a 1/4 mile from the shelter when I was distracted by the mountain's summit. The way up was nice a grassy, but it sure looked steep. I told myself I would hike uphill for 40 minutes and if I was still not at the top I would turn around. I still had 5 miles or so to walk to get back to my car. But it was not I, but Walter who turned the tables.

Walter is a good dog. A grand dog. He rarely complains and he follows me to the ends of the earth with good cheer. Not once has he given me any indication that he was not happy stomping around in the woods...until Tuesday. It was damn hot on the side of Snow Peak and the only shade was from some very small trees dotting the hillside. That is why I had my shirt off. Anyway, I was doing a sort of switchback side slope thing to get up the hill because straight up was killing my Achilles tendons. I would pick out little landmarks to walk to and often these were the small trees. I turned around at one of them and realized a few moments later that Walter was not with me. He had stopped in the (barely any) shade of one of the trees and laid down and was looking at me like I was insane. At that moment I realized that he was no longer having fun and I could not possibly force him to continue. I sat down where I was and he came and wedged himself behind me and used his feet against my bum to keep from sliding down the hill. It then took us 50 minutes to walk down what took 30 minutes to go up because it was so steep. Up is far easier. Once we started walking down he cheered up greatly. And to be honest, so did I. The older I get the less of a masochist I am. The view from the sides of the mountain were just as good as the view from on top.

Walter was one tired puppy by the time we got back to the campground. He was so tired he did not even see the bear. Yes, a bear and it was cool. Actually he did not see it because he is short and could not see over the bushes. But I saw it. Right by the toilet. Right where I was heading. In desperate need. So I backed up slowly (oh, he was watching me) and I put Walter in the car and grabbed a pan and spoon and chased the little bastard away. Then he came back. Evidently he had run the wrong way. So I chased him again. I think I interrupted his snack time at the adjacent camp spot where Daryl and Dorothy (names I gave them because they look like a Daryl and Dorothy) had left out a cooler, bucket of huckleberries, trash to burn in the fire pit and other assorted goodies. He just got the huckleberries (the first of the season) and the paper plates in the fire pit. He sure was cute though.

Columbine and Lupin, my two favorites

The North Cascades are way in the distance...they don't really show up in the picture but can be seen in the flesh



Snow Peak Cabin


Snow Peak...yup, the crap in the foreground is what I would have had to go over to get up there


Looking towards Canada...I was about right here several years ago when an F-16 was buzzing around in the valley below me. It was weird.

Actually, I was just leaving


Columbia Mountain. There is a cool old lookout building on top.

Mama and the boy resting on the side of Snow. Walter had his feet jammed up against my butt so that he would not slide down the hill. It was that steep.

So tired he was resting his back-end on a rock. Those orange things are at a trail junction with an emergency barrel that has a sleeping bag and other stuff in it. I think they are used in the winter to mark the trail because this is a big backcountry ski and snowshoe area. Big avalanche area as well. One of the other trail junctions has a sled for emergency evacuation.

Pretty little wet spot

Huckleberries and grape nuts. Evidently, according to Dorothy and Daryl this area has the earliest ripening of any part of the country. They were pretty good.

The slope we were walking up with I think Edds Mountain in the background