Thoughts on my first small solo adventure and making it through the rain.
Ha, ha, ha, ha!!! I made it. I lived! Okay, okay, it wasn't really death defying, but it was a grand and interesting experience, nonetheless.
I set out up a mountain on a 4 mile hike. My pack was whittled down to 40#, and I'm in good shape, so I figured it would be tough, but not impossible. I coached a weightlifting meet in the morning to good success, then after scrambling to find water-proofing spray, I gave up after 2 attempts and decided to hope for the best and wing it. Somehow I knew the idea I needed it was presented to me from the universe for a reason, but it was a good lesson to learn nevertheless.
As I am not yet an expert in land navigation nor reading topographical maps, I set out on a course with a known trail for my first excursion. I brought water, food, extra clothing, fire making tools, two knives, bear spray, a loud whistle, a tent, a sleeping mat and a sleeping bag. I also brought my cell phone just in case.
I am in really good shape, but moving up that hill with that pack on my back about kicked me in the ass. Not realizing I was only 1/2 a mile from camp, I surveyed the scene for water in the area (close to none, but I could lick the puddles from the rocks if need be) and decided to cache some water for the trip back. It was 2 hours already, and I felt like I was moving like a stuck raindrop on a dry windshield.
I hit camp well ahead of schedule, however. It was only 4:00 pm. Bummer! I really wanted to hike until 6, but this was the only campsite unless I wanted to hike another 4 hours. I didn't want to risk being out on the trail past sundown, so I set up camp.
After i got the tent set up, I realized how wiped out I was, so I lay down in my tent for a few minutes to rest.
A horse approached. I heard it jump over the large fallen tree just outside my tent that blocked the path. Cool. That's one bad ass rider. This is a tough trail for a horse. I was impressed to know I wasn't alone, as I had only seen one other hiker on the way up. I wanted to speak, "hello" to him, but I was honestly so wiped out I could barely even breathe, so I pushed by him silently. He did the same.
There was a massive storm cloud looming not too far away. I figured I had a few hours to explore the trail past my camp.
Within a few hundred yards, I saw my first snake. It wasn't a rattler. It was pale and thin--maybe only a few feet long. It slinked away quickly when it felt me coming.
Wow. Now THIS was wilderness! A firefighter I had spoke with a few weeks back had warned me that this trail was unmanaged. Now I knew what he was talking about. The trail had clearly not seen much human interaction since the huge fire burned most of the mountains in our area 6 years back. It was heavily overgrown and very difficult to follow.
About two years earlier, I had taken my first survival course north of Seattle, WA. I had learned that one could become incomprehensibly lost in only 100 feet. I could see just how easily I could wind up wandering here for hours. Fortunately some good samaritan and wilderness pal had set up a number of key ducks to strategically mark major turns in the path. Winding my way back, I was grateful, as I still barely made it back to camp on time before the monsoon hit.
Okay, I live in So Cal. We don't have monsoons, but this was a major thunderstorm. I had only seen this type of thunderstorm 4x since I moved to Los Angeles 30 years ago--1 happening just a few days back.
It started to pour. Sheets of rain quickly pooled in the top of my tent, and I realized if I didn't think fast, I was going to be wet, cold and miserable the rest of the night. I knew I needed that damned Scotchguard! This was an old tent. I knew all the pieces were here, but it was now leaking all over the place.
I put on my windbreaker (fortunately I'd thought to bring one) and set out to find a pair of large sticks I could use to prop up the inside of the tent. I got them in place, was thoroughly drenched and sat down inside to assess the situation.
It was a flash flood. A raging stream had already gathered outside of my tent, but it was a good 20' away, and I knew it wouldn't pose a threat. I had to decide if it would be smarter to stay or smarter to try to make it back down with the 2 hours of daylight I had left.
The stream was moving fast. I knew walking down the mountain in that much water with a wet pack (I'd brought a garbage bag to cover it, but some parts were still left barren) was not a good idea. When I descended the next morning, I realized I would not have made it, so staying was clearly the right choice. Besides, I was here to learn to deal with these types of situations, not to run from them!
Thank the Jesus that my two logs propping up the tent worked! Water mostly ran off the sides. I was able to diagonally position my mat so that it was mostly dry. After sitting there for about 20 mins, it was still pouring as hard as ever. I realized if I started to get a chill, it would be more difficult to warm up than it would be to get warm now. I opted for the latter.
I peeled off my wet clothes and hung them from my new tree friends. I put on the long-sleeved shirt and tights I had also had a premonition to bring as well as my 2nd pair of dry socks. Yes!! Better safe than sorry worked!
I felt plenty warm, but I went ahead and crawled into my sleeping bag anyway. Snugly and warm, it was still light outside. I had opted not to bring my weightlifting book to study b/c I knew it would add too much weight, but now I had way too much time on my hands, and I don't do well with that!!
I started writing about the days experiences in my journal for about an hour. I tried to get on my phone to read one of the many books I have on Kindle, but it was just too wet, and I didn't want to ruin the device, so I mostly just sat.
Surprisingly, I found myself a bit bored, so I thought about my life. I thought about how much in common this adventure had with running a business, coaching weightlifting and staying sober. All three require hutzpah, balls, courage, a dose of insanity, and a willingness to face down fears as they arise.
All 3 have to be taken a day at a time. They are all very hard, challenging and at times can seem nearly impossible. There are days and times I want to quit with any of these things. It was then I realized that this really is just life. All 3 are not things that can be conquered in a day. There are moments of glory, pain, embarrassment, frustration, vulnerability, elation, pride, joy and stress in all of them.
I realized that each thing I do in my life in an opportunity to be brave. I don't have to wrestle mountain lions to find a way to conquer my fears. I am presented with opportunities to do this daily.
Deciding to train each day, I realized, is no different. Picking up the phone to call back a potential client, the same. All of these require a moment of "courage in the face of fear". To me, the mental challenge for each is nearly the same.
So I laid down in my tent and vainly tried to sleep. The rain was still gushing down. The zipper on the flap on the tent was broken. I suddenly had a vision of a pack of 3 coyotes sticking their noses in looking for someplace dry and warm. I spent a full 40 minutes getting that damned zipper to close after that, but it stayed shut the entire night then!
I wouldn't even go outside to pee, opting instead for a rubber bowl I'd brought just for this purpose.
I realized I was truly, deeply, subtly,yet very really afraid. I set my knife, whistle and bear spray within reaching distance of my sleeping bag.
I seriously couldn't get the visions of mountain lions, bears, coyotes and snakes out of my mind. I'd push one thought of an attack out, then another would take it's place. Then finally, I realized I COULD change my thoughts.
I set about to visualize my spot as an animal free zone.I kept seeing no harm coming to me. I knew this was all in my head. I kept breathing deeply and seeing peace. I finally felt peace. I finally knew I was going to be okay.
I still didn't sleep all night. I was just too darned excited, but I did at least relax, and I was no longer afraid of any animals coming in.
The next morning about dawn, I heard it again. The horse! I opened the tent, to let the rider know I was okay. I had parked my car in the lot which clearly said, "Daylight Use Only", so I knew the folks who manned it, as it was locked promptly at 6pm, would be worried.
But it wasn't a horse at all. It was a deer.
Those were deer hooves I'd heard the day before.
I wasn't alone. Where there are deer, there are mountain lions, but I was no longer afraid.
I arose at 7 am, packed up my gear and headed down the mountain. Where there were mere puddles the night before, there were now full on streams. Loads of small trees had been knocked down by the currents making many of the streams more difficult to cross. I made it all the way down to the very bottom. There the worst damage occurred. The entire bridge to get from one side of a pretty wide stream had collapsed. I would have never been able to make it across at night. I had made the right decision.
I let the rangers know I was okay, then I set out toward home to get a much needed shower.
I made it. Day one under my belt.
I can't wait to do it again!
