There and back again

Okay, so I didn't encounter any elves or trolls, but it was an adventure in my book. I got back last night from my birthday backpacking trip. It was as I had hoped, full of challenges, learning curves, and inspirational beauty. Although I had intended on going to Hackberry Canyon, I later reconsidered it due to water scarcity. I knew whatever I did would be a challenge in and of itself, and the last thing I needed was to worry about finding water. I decided on the La Verkin Trail in Kolob Canyon (part of Zion National Park). When all was said and done we covered the La Verkin Creek, Willis Creek, Kolob Arch Trails, and Beartrap Canyon. All in all, we hiked about 23+ miles of backbreaking, thigh burning, amazing beauty.
I started out as all optimistic nature lovers do, fearless and completely confident in my abilities. That lasted for about 4 miles.



When we arrived at the Visitors Center, we realized that we were competing with others for the last remaining camp spots for Memorial Weekend. We were given the last camp spot on the trail, 10 miles into the park. It was almost 2:00p.m. and we felt we had enough daylight to make it. Plus the trail starts at the highest point and works down to the canyon, about 800 feet. No big deal, right? Wrong! At the beginning of the hike, a sign is posted showing a map and distances, etc..., but then I saw a word that I hadn't expected, "Strenuous." I could have sworn that the stuff I had read at home said moderate, but it didn't matter, I wasn't about to let a little sweat get in the way of my birthday trip.




The first few miles were deceptive. It was beautiful scenery, virtually all down hill with unbelievable shades of red, green, and blue. I found myself repeatedly taking 5 minutes breaks to take photos. This was the beginning of our problems. We made it down to the water, and found that it was almost 6:00p.m., and we had only gone 4 miles! This was not good. So I put on my "ass-kicking" face, and went full force towards our spot. I set the pace. Even my husband was impressed at my speed, full pack and all, but then we hit sand, deep sand. It was like watching a toy run out of battery power. It kicked our butts. The sun was starting to set over the canyon wall, and we both hit our collective panic button. We passed campsites one after the other, some with miles in between. Occasionally, we would unknowingly skip a campsite and come across the following one. For a moment, it felt like we had gotten away with something, until we realized we still had about 7 more campsites to go.
Larry got out the compass and topo to see just how much further we needed to go. The sun had set, we were missing the trail, going back and forth over water, and we still had 2 km to go. I was dead. My legs were beat. To add more punishment, the Willis trail was not marked as well due to the scrambling required (up steep hills, over boulders, etc...). It only got worse as the night progressed. I actually started crying. I kept going, and didn't give up, but I was actually crying from being in so much pain. My pain had to go somewhere. At one point my husband actually strapped my pack onto his front. I think they once wrote a song about him....called him Camouflage.



A few times we thought about just stopping along the water and setting up camp, but as soon as we would find a nice flat area, we found the ant hills and the millions of ants that lived in them. Finally, at about 9:30p.m. we found our spot and sat up our tent. All I wanted to do was wash my face off, take out my contacts, brush my teeth, and hit the bag. I began to dig around in my pack, and quickly realized that all of our bathroom stuff (outside of toilet paper) was back at home on the bathroom counter. Oh my God! Could this day get any worse! We were both too tired to begin blaming each other. I guess I would have to get dirty and stinky, Marine style. My only concern was having nothing to clean my contacts with, nor any glasses to see with if something happened to my contacts. I managed with some water, and a very gentle rubbing in between my fingers. It was tenuous, but they made it. I will say that this was the first time, since my first tooth was cut, that I didn't brush my teeth. It was absolutely disgusting.
That night, I just laid in the tent looking up at the moon, feeling every little muscle and joint scream in pain, and oh, did I mention that we hadn't eaten anything since 1:00 p.m.? Tummy was aching as well. Even my ribcage hurt from all the lung expansion. I quickly realized that if I want to do this as much as I think I do, I am going to have to get in better shape.



The next days were much better. We did smaller, more manageable hikes, about 5-6 miles a day. I even had a nice birthday dinner:



On the menu was Spaghetti and Meat Sauce, Green Beans, Mashed potatoes with garlic and herbs, a glass of Merlot, and for desert...Blueberry cheesecake! It was actually all very good, and after working so hard, it tasted extra, extra good!

As we made our way back up on the last day, I realized that I had come up that canyon a different person that the one who went down. Humility, perseverance, and having confidence in myself to see it through were learned, and learned quickly. I also found the 3 things I will never go without on my next hikes; walking sticks (they became a second pair of legs when mine could no longer get over the large rocks), a water bladder built into the pack (makes it much easier to stay hydrated), and a good pair of shoes (it is absolute pain when your shoes don't fit properly).

Overall, I couldn't have asked for a better way to spend my 35th birthday. It was an amazing adventure, and if someone asked me to pack up and go again today, I wouldn't hesitate a big "let's go!"