Don’t be grumpy. Be adaptable!
It was WET and COLD weekend for us. There is something amazing about the forest in the rain, to be sure. The mist and the fog can feel magical and surreal. And also, no one is going to argue that it’s comfortable to hike many miles with soaking wet feet. Or that it feels great to move gear around with freezing cold, questionably functioning fingers. Or that you feel excited to put on your soaking wet shirt in the morning hoping that it’ll dry while you hike. But, the thing is: fun doesn’t always equal comfortable! Sometimes it’s not about “finding the positive” but learning to exist in the “I am seriously uncomfortable right now.” We asked ourselves questions about why we choose to spend time in the backcountry, embraced the importance of putting yourself in uncomfortable situations, and allowed ourselves to feel gratitude for the opportunity we have to see such beautiful places.
It was too warm to hike in our rain gear without overheating, so we were truly drenched when we arrived to set up camp on night one in the fog and continuing rain. We realized we were missing the stakes for the tent, so we used our hiking poles, sticks and rocks and decided that our motto for the trip was officially: Don’t be grumpy. Be adaptable!
After an intensely rainy and windy night, we were happy the next morning that we hadn’t set our tent in the adjacent spot where a giant puddle had formed overnight. Kudos to Sarah for having a “feeling we shouldn’t set our tent down there.”
Neither of us really wanted to “call it quits”. We were frustrated by the weather, and sure that if it continued to rain we’d be setting up a soggy tent that night. Neither of us were going to be hiking in anything totally dry, and we had 15 miles to go that day in order to reach our next campsite. Our planned early start had been thwarted by the pouring rain, meaning we would need to seriously hustle to make it before dark. We took a look at the map and decided we would try for 5.5 miles, at which point there was a cutoff we could take back to the car if necessary.
We made it to the cutoff feeling somewhat demoralized, a little disappointed and very soggy. The rain just wouldn’t let up! Just as we had decided that given the mileage (and elevation gain) we had in front of us combined with the remaining available daylight, it wasn’t practical to continue, a tiny patch of blue sky appeared over the lake (sucker hole!). As it slowly grew in size, we decided we’d just go for it. We put the rain fly on the back of Sarah’s pack hoping it would dry out a little, grinned at the universe, chanced putting on a little sunscreen, and headed for the pass.
And BOY were we glad we did!
Not only were the views incredible, but we were lucky to encounter lots of wildlife. I’m grateful for an adventure partner who keeps a close watch on things while I’m looking through my camera lens.
We made it up and over the pass and decided that hiking all the way to our next planned camp in the dark wouldn’t be safe (a little bad math on our part meant it was about 4 miles more than we’d thought), so we stopped and set up (a mostly dry tent) at about 13 miles. It was a COLD night; much colder than we were anticipating! Cold and clear makes for amazing celestial views, though, and we were treated to an amazing glimpse of the Milky Way. Neither of us slept much at all because of the cold, and in the morning our tent was covered in ice! It was a clear morning, and we fully embraced that incredible feeling of watching the sun slowly make its way down the side of the valley before it finally reached us. We were oh-so-grateful for its warmth.
It took a good 3 miles before we were able to feel our feet, but the temperature rose steadily as we lost elevation, and by the time we hit the trailhead and the car 8 miles later, we were all smiles. We thoroughly enjoyed a soak in the hot springs before our drive back.
The view from the ferry crossing back to Seattle.
Moral of the story: Backcountry adventure is 5% preparedness and 95% adaptability. It’s true that 5% preparedness can carry a lot of weight, and there’s a fine line between uncomfortable and unsafe, but finding that balance while you explore the 95% adaptability can be a hell of a lot of fun!
Live like you mean it. This life is the only one you’ve got.
