Now, I want to go.
All last week, I've been telling Mike I'm his backup for his fifty-mile backpacking trip with the Boy Scouts tomorrow. I thought of the idea when Mike told me he wasn't sleeping and that if things went south for him, the whole trip would have to be canceled. He's one of two adult leaders. So, I told him that I would be his second.
I wasn't sure I could manage it. Last Monday, I hiked nine miles. At the end, my left foot was sore, but on Tuesday, I could have hiked again. I was too busy. On Wednesday, I hiked four miles in the time that I had available. I could have gone four more. I think I could have. On Thursday, I jumped on a trampoline at SkyMania for a full hour. I overdid it. Then suddenly, I hoped and prayed I didn't have to go.
Could I sleep six days on the ground? I'd probably have trouble sleeping the first night. After that, I'd likely be so tired I could sleep on a nail bed. I wouldn't like it, but I could do it.
Could I get up and walk another 8.3 miles after walking the two days before? I'm not an idiot. I know that it's the third day that counts. If I could hike the third day, I could continue indefinitely until my food ran out. The glorious thing about the third day is that you can really begin to feel your pack lightening because you've eaten a lot of the food out of it. It's a lovely feeling.
Could I manage my sugar levels? Sure. I've been exercising more and my sugar levels are evening out. Plus, I have a better idea when they go low since I've been paying attention for six or seven years. I'd probably eat just like the rest of them if I went. I'd need the carbohydrates.
Would I get lost? One trail, Mike says. Not a lot of places to go down the wrong trail. I've been noodling around here for years. I've always walked by myself, well, with a dog. I feel at home in the woods. I've gotten lost. Besides, there would be five other people on the trail ahead of me, watching out to see if I eventually come down the trail.
Suddenly, this morning, I remember how beautiful it is in the Olympic mountains. I remember looking out over Lake Quinalt at dawn. I would feel the beauty and the dampness of the temperate rain forest. I would be in Big Foot country if you need that to picture the place, ferns, old growth trees, and dew hanging from branches.
Plus, Mike found powdered peanut butter. Oh man. I want to go. I want to go. I want to go!
Thank you for listening, jb
All last week, I've been telling Mike I'm his backup for his fifty-mile backpacking trip with the Boy Scouts tomorrow. I thought of the idea when Mike told me he wasn't sleeping and that if things went south for him, the whole trip would have to be canceled. He's one of two adult leaders. So, I told him that I would be his second.
I wasn't sure I could manage it. Last Monday, I hiked nine miles. At the end, my left foot was sore, but on Tuesday, I could have hiked again. I was too busy. On Wednesday, I hiked four miles in the time that I had available. I could have gone four more. I think I could have. On Thursday, I jumped on a trampoline at SkyMania for a full hour. I overdid it. Then suddenly, I hoped and prayed I didn't have to go.
Could I sleep six days on the ground? I'd probably have trouble sleeping the first night. After that, I'd likely be so tired I could sleep on a nail bed. I wouldn't like it, but I could do it.
Could I get up and walk another 8.3 miles after walking the two days before? I'm not an idiot. I know that it's the third day that counts. If I could hike the third day, I could continue indefinitely until my food ran out. The glorious thing about the third day is that you can really begin to feel your pack lightening because you've eaten a lot of the food out of it. It's a lovely feeling.
Could I manage my sugar levels? Sure. I've been exercising more and my sugar levels are evening out. Plus, I have a better idea when they go low since I've been paying attention for six or seven years. I'd probably eat just like the rest of them if I went. I'd need the carbohydrates.
Would I get lost? One trail, Mike says. Not a lot of places to go down the wrong trail. I've been noodling around here for years. I've always walked by myself, well, with a dog. I feel at home in the woods. I've gotten lost. Besides, there would be five other people on the trail ahead of me, watching out to see if I eventually come down the trail.
Suddenly, this morning, I remember how beautiful it is in the Olympic mountains. I remember looking out over Lake Quinalt at dawn. I would feel the beauty and the dampness of the temperate rain forest. I would be in Big Foot country if you need that to picture the place, ferns, old growth trees, and dew hanging from branches.
Plus, Mike found powdered peanut butter. Oh man. I want to go. I want to go. I want to go!
Thank you for listening, jb
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