It didn't hurt that it looked like everything beautiful and rugged and glorious in the world.
The trail we took first meandered over a river and through the woods (no joke), following a glacier carved canyon up to the granite, alpine meadows and lakes. For the first leg of the hike, we skirted a steep cliff with a raging river fed by snow-melt at it's bottom. Achingly tall conifers shaded the path while the glowing red skin of the madrones added a burst of colour to the mix.
The poison oak added the danger. And the anxiety. Darn poison oak.
We ate our mid-hike snack of oranges and trail mix at the foot of a waterfall and after four miles of hiking, basked in the cool mist spraying our faces and clothes. We also tried desperately to maintain solid footing. I am pleased to report that we did indeed succeed. After that, we wandered through soggy meadows full of thigh-high grass, soggy earth full of ankle high mud and more soggy, little creeks and water ways then I could possibly count. All the while, we chattered and laughed, enjoying the incredible sights and beauty that God had laid before us and praising Him for mercifully providing hiking poles because without them, we would never have managed. Most especially when it came to the river.
That glorious, raging beast that we had seen the entire way (and managed to avoid), suddenly rose up to meet us in manner we couldn't escape. She had crossed our path and risen so high that the pine that once laid across her width, now only covered 3/4 of the way. Now, the only way to our destination was to throw on the water shoes and skedaddle across. At this point, the poles, though with a tendency to not stay where I wanted to if I didn't manhandle them to the river bed, were instrumental in getting me across. Don't misunderstand me, they didn't get me across very quickly and by the time I did get there my feet were very cold and very asleep, but they kept my little blonde self from getting caught with a wave and flowing back down to the car - 7.5 miles below us.
Once we had made it across the creek/river/Mississippi/Nile that stood in our way, it was a short half mile jaunt across alpine terrain. And straight, exposed granite.
In an effort to let our feet dry, Nathan and I had kept our water shoes on. Which in my case, with slippery, wet feet in sandals made for a sometimes interesting climb. Or scary. You take your pick.
Nathan on the other hand was loving life in his.....
[Insert commercial break]
....Vibram Five Fingers. For over a mile (when you factor in there and back), he hiked in those silly looking shoes, but never once did they hurt, even across the rock, and his grip on things was stellar! He said it was like being barefoot and comfortable. Thank you Vibram!
[Back to your regularly scheduled blog post]
Then, almost as soon as we had started we were at the end and a cerulean blue lake smiled at us, framed by the craggy mountains covered in snow and a thin smattering of trees. Never has a pepperoni/swiss cheese/honey wheat bagel tasted so divine. We inhaled our lunches with the ferocity of two 20-somethings hungry after an 8 mile hike and proceeded on quickly to picture taking and memory making. It was a good lunch.
Having never hiked such a long distance before I had sustained myself through the first eight miles with hardly any bad attitude at all. Any fear I may have had at completing the hike had been dampered by the intense beauty and commitment to the challenge. I could see the Grand Canyon, I could see the kids in Chuka, and I knew I wanted it bad. Aaaand... it had only been eight miles.
Through the remaining few miles, I experienced the following:
Once we had made it across the creek/river/Mississippi/Nile that stood in our way, it was a short half mile jaunt across alpine terrain. And straight, exposed granite.
In an effort to let our feet dry, Nathan and I had kept our water shoes on. Which in my case, with slippery, wet feet in sandals made for a sometimes interesting climb. Or scary. You take your pick.
Nathan on the other hand was loving life in his.....
[Insert commercial break]
....Vibram Five Fingers. For over a mile (when you factor in there and back), he hiked in those silly looking shoes, but never once did they hurt, even across the rock, and his grip on things was stellar! He said it was like being barefoot and comfortable. Thank you Vibram![Back to your regularly scheduled blog post]
Then, almost as soon as we had started we were at the end and a cerulean blue lake smiled at us, framed by the craggy mountains covered in snow and a thin smattering of trees. Never has a pepperoni/swiss cheese/honey wheat bagel tasted so divine. We inhaled our lunches with the ferocity of two 20-somethings hungry after an 8 mile hike and proceeded on quickly to picture taking and memory making. It was a good lunch.
The hike back, well, that wasn't quite so merry.
Having never hiked such a long distance before I had sustained myself through the first eight miles with hardly any bad attitude at all. Any fear I may have had at completing the hike had been dampered by the intense beauty and commitment to the challenge. I could see the Grand Canyon, I could see the kids in Chuka, and I knew I wanted it bad. Aaaand... it had only been eight miles.
Through the remaining few miles, I experienced the following:
- Realization of what I had committed to.
- Extreme anxiety about my general athletic ability.
- Bitterness about having to walk so far.
- Pain from every, single, bloody part of my body.
- A strong desire to smack Nathan in the back of his leg with my hiking poles.
You know, the usual things people think.
It wasn't until mile 14.5 when I started singing Amazing Grace to myself through my big, fatty tears that the urge to berate my kind, helpful, encouraging husband and generally quit the hike altogether, left me.
After 16 miles, thousands of calories. a few bajillion blisters and some incredible sights later, Nathan and I walked across the finish line together. It had truly been an incredible day. We were well aware of the many miles that still lay ahead before we could crawl up the south side of the canyon, but it was a good first step.
