I did a lot of walking in the last two days, and I’ve come to a decision.  Video game characters have it easy.  They don’t carry heavy backpacks or tramp through bloodthirsty bushes.  They don’t get sunburned or eaten by mosquitos.  They don’t even have to wear sensible footwear because there’s always a tidy path.

I just got back from what consitutes an adventure (for me, anyway) and I had to carry a heavy backpack, tramp through bushes, slather on greasy sunscreen and bug repellent, and wear sturdy boots because sometimes there really wasn’t a path and I was rock climbing instead of gently hiking.

It was fun anyway.

I went up to the Granite Chief Wilderness and hiked into the Picayune Valley to camp.  It was about six miles from the trailhead.  Even though I’ve been running and I’m in pretty good shape I figured I’d be dead on my feet by the end.  Backpacks are heavy.  But technology is my friend, and packs these days have all kinds of straps here and there to adjust weight placement so it’s wasn’t bad at all.

I stopped on the way up to learn how to skip rocks, then set off with my giant pack and sensible supplies.  No smores, no pastry cookers, just freeze dried food, a water filter, and a hiking partner.  I almost stepped on a snake but I managed to perform a difficult squeal+strafe maneuver to avoid it.  It was a small snake, but that doesn’t matter.  Wildlife thirsts for human blood.  It just does.  We must always be on our guard.

Next I had to cross a river that did not provide tidy stepping stones.  I couldn’t even doublejump across.  After getting stuck on a rock in the middle of the river I bravely took off my very sensible boots to wade the rest of the way.  I took one step in the river, and immediately fell in.

I don’t know if you know this, but mountain rivers are not heated like swimming pools.  In fact, they are mostly cold because the water was recently snow.  I learned this firsthand.  I didn’t panic when I fell in, but I got close to it because I’m not that brave, especially when it’s cold.  I grabbed onto the nearest rock and held on for dear life while I shrieked for help.  There wasn’t much to be done but pull me back up through the current.  I was saved.  I crawled through the rest of the river because I worried I’d fall if I tried to stand again.  I was already soaked anyway.  My pack somehow stayed completely dry through it all.  Good thing, because I had a book in there and I hate trying to read water damaged books.  My left heel was numb and my foot hurt even after thawing out, but I didn’t want to try crossing the river of the damned to go back home so I kept going forward.

There weren’t any more rivers to fall into.  It was much safer.  Except the one time I took the lead I accidentally snuck up on a bear that had come out for a drink.  It demonstrated its burning hate for humankind by running away as soon as it saw me.  I’m that scary.  Don’t mess with me.  I wondered if it had gone ahead to plan an ambush, but I didn’t see it again.

When it started getting dark we set up camp on the flattest rock in the vicinity.  I traded my wet shorts and t-shirt for jeans and thermals and a sweater and hunkered down in sleeping bag while I waited for the freeze-dried lasagna.  It’s not bad.  If you’re in the wilderness I recommend it.

Day One: survived. barely.

I decided to hike up to these three little lakes that were nearby before heading for home.  We crossed a smaller river, hiked through a bunch of rocks, and encountered “chaparral,” which I quickly learned stood for “carnivorous vegitation.” Climbing through them was like trying to cut through the thorns to reach Sleeping Beauty, except no princess was waiting on the other side.  After coming up on waterfalls and cliff dead-ends and scaling streambeds I finally got there, or I got to where they should have been.  There was nothing but snow up there.  The nerve.  So I had a snowball fight in July and learned to glissade.

Instead of going back the way I had come up I took a more direct route.  I had overshot the lakes and had to backtrack, so this would save time and distance.  It was pretty fun, and not nearly as steep, until the land dropped down a couple of cliffs.  Ugh.  I took the opportunity to take a picture of the campsite.  After that it was not so much fun, and steep as it could get without requiring ropes and other rock climbing gear.

It was getting on into the afternoon by the time I was down the cliffs, through the chaparral that kept knocking me down and collapsing on me, and to the river.  It had been pretty easy to cross in the morning; however, it seemed that snow had been melting during the heat of the day, and the river had gotten higher.  My narrow crossing place was not so narrow anymore.  I had to leap from one side to the other, probably five or six feet.  It took a while to work up the nerve after my last aquatic mishap, and I think I psyched myself out because I didn’t jump as far as I should have.  My hiking partner caught me on the other side, but I banged my right knee up pretty bad.  Weak.  So now my left foot and my right knee both hurt.

After getting back to camp I napped, showered outside with solar-heated water, and had more freeze-dried pasta before heading home.  There was only one close call at the river of the damned, two snakes, no bears, and a lizard doing push-ups (seriously).  There were a lot of mosquitos and a curious burning sensation in my feet.  Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to hike all the way up and down a mountain, then strap on a heavy pack and walk another six miles in one day.  Oops.  I didn’t even try walking on rocks across the last river.  I just walked straight through and thanked the water for numbing my feet.  The trailhead was just beyond, and so was my dirty car.

Day Two: survived. my feet hurt.

- jinx

gotta get down because i want it all