Sunday, June 28, 2015
BACK!
I am headed back to the Tundra. I do not want to count the number of too few days I have been home. I will feel more guilt for leaving my daughter behind. But, my husband and I did manage to figure out how I could get onto another tundra trip.
I am going on a river trip in ANWR, on the Kongakut. It is the same river I floated on my first trip to Alaska in 2009. This time we are likely to encounter large numbers (as in tens of thousands) of caribou while we float.
I am excited. I am worried that I won’t be able to deal with being away from Xo. This will be my longest backcountry trip since I had her. I will be in the field 10 nights. Previously my longest was my first since she was born which was 7 nights. But her and I have been spending a lot of time together, a lot of good time. It makes me happy to have those moments with her. It makes me happy when I am having them and after, it’s like the benefits of exercise. My whole soul is warmed. By my daughter, not the exercise.
As with any trip like this that I embark on when I am getting out with strangers, I have concerns. Concerns I will be out with insufferable people. Or that I will be insufferable. That everyone will be too polite. That I won’t enjoy myself. To prepare for this I tell myself it’s a trip about introspection, I bring extra journals, pens, and books to read, just in case. I brought headphones so I can listen to music if I want to. I brought booze. I might even bring a bottle of wine (packed in a soft case), it is a river trip after all.
If I were less tired, I would write about feeling the tundra. Rolling around on it during days that promise to be warm and dry. At least in the current weather forecast. I would write about the majesty of caribou. But because I am on a late night flight to Fairbanks, I am getting to the point where I can’t think that deeply. And it is time to shut this down. I can post when I get to the hotel, it always makes me happy to actually get this posted. It makes for a good start to the trip. Then when I write on the trip I know I can type it up on the way home and get it posted ASAP. No nights left behind.
Getting Out of the Backcountry
It’s dark right now, and this is the first real darkness I have seen in over a week. I am on the Alaska Airlines flight from Fairbanks to Seattle. Then I will board a flight for SFO. I started at the Hula Hula river, had a pit stop in Arctic Village then on to FAI for a shower, a meal, and a nap.
How Can I Get Back This Season?
How Can I Get Back This Season?
I was ready to be warm again. I was ready to not have to worry about my feet freezing or my hands becoming disfunctional. I was ready to eat some vegetables and some meat. But I am not ready to go home. I am not ready to leave the tundra behind for untold numbers of days. I am not ready to leave the idea of the far north to these pages.
Now I wish I had planned less into my summer so that I could plan more tundra into it RIGHT NOW.
Fuck.
I have to get home and figure it all out with my family.
I was ready to be warm again. I was ready to not have to worry about my feet freezing or my hands becoming disfunctional. I was ready to eat some vegetables and some meat. But I am not ready to go home. I am not ready to leave the tundra behind for untold numbers of days. I am not ready to leave the idea of the far north to these pages.
Now I wish I had planned less into my summer so that I could plan more tundra into it RIGHT NOW.
Fuck.
I have to get home and figure it all out with my family.
Arctic Bingo
We had Arctic Bingo two ways: Animals and Weather.
Animals: Caribou, Wolves, Grizzly, Dall Sheep, Moose. Add Red Fox for the bonus.
Weather: rain, sun, freezing rain, snow, strong wind. Pilots getting us out in what looked like impossible weather to me for the bonus. Thank you Wright Air Service.
Gear Review: MSR NX Hubba Hubba 2 person tent
This tent rocked my world. We had all the weather: rain, frozen rain, wind, snow, sun. And it weathered all the weather. Even when I didn’t get the pitch quite right with the strong winds, it managed to keep two of us dry. It managed to keep most of the blowing rain off our stuff stored in the vestibules.
I have been skeptical about using a two-person backpacking tent for two people since a rainy backpack in British Columbia when I was 18. I remember a night or two spent figuring out how to keep my sleeping bag dry. And everything else dry. It seemed as if I moved I would touch the wall of the tent which would touch the wall of the fly and then all the water would come in. It was too small, there was no room. And this was for two tall but average sized women. What would you do for two large and tall men? My previous solution was to use a three-person tent.
But now I have this MSR beast. Weighing in at only 3.5lbs., she’s keeping it tight.
Here is a link to some information on the tent: MSR NX Hubba Hubba for 2
Grains
Corn, Buckwheat, Wheat (Pasta), Wheat (couscous), Oats, Muesli, Quinoa, Rice, Rice (Noodles)…
I think I ate every possible grain this week. At least within reason. Does anybody know what spelt actually looks like?
At breakfast: grain with nuts while they lasted, dried fruit, turbinado sugar, milk, and a touch of butter. Thank goodness for the touch of butter.
At dinner: with cheese, dried vegetables, and assorted other things.
This may be generally how most backpacks go. But what about the bacon? The pouch of salmon for the pasta? The freeze dried eggs? The tortillas? The bagels? A little bit of salsa? A touch of pesto?
I fucking hate grains. Right now. And I don’t mean that. But I ate a piece of salmon on top of salad tonight for dinner and I would like my dinner to be some variation of that for the time being. And probably my lunch. Maybe even my breakfast.
Leadership
What is leadership? I think it’s a question NOLS deals with a lot. It is a question more places should ponder. It is a question more leaders should ponder.
I think leading is difficult. For some people it comes easily. You don’t even know you are being led. Others try for that effect and fail miserably. I don’t know if there is a formula. There are things you can do to try and adjust your style of leadership to what you think it is people want. But you are probably wrong.
Don’t play at being easy going if you aren’t. You might want to be, but if you aren’t, we all know. And you lose credibility because trying isn’t really working for you.
Bush Pilots
So, they flirt with all the girls, right?
My friend assured me that there was flirting and then there was flirting. And this was the second kind.
I like sitting in the front. Ever since I became much less afraid of flying in those planes. I like to wear the head set and ask the pilot questions and hear them talk to each other. I think it helps me remember that I have gotten more brave about the flying part of these excursions.
And sometimes the pilot is hot, or cute or all of it. And that is fun too.
This is not Night 16
When I woke up this morning I thought for sure I would be spending night 16 in ANWR. Only nights 10-15 were scheduled for ANWR. Around 7:00a.m. I unzipped the tent only to look out and see what the weather was like. I could not see the peaks around me. I could not see down or up the valley. The day before it had snowed most of the day. There were some blue holes that poked through but they did not last, and they did not get big. Before bed last night I proclaimed there was a river of blue for a short stretch of the valley. Then I revised that declaring it was a creek of blue. We were an optimistic group. As much as we didn’t want to leave the refuge, we also didn’t want to get stuck there in the cold. Because it was cold. I had another evening of warming my feet on Rebecca’s stomach. She is a good friend. She said the wild thing is that when my feet go from total numbness to feeling, she can feel the difference in my tissue. She knows as much as I do when they are functional again.
I had not had anything that bad happen to my feet since the first night. But before that, I can’t remember the last time something like that had happened. It might have been 20 years. It might have been never. They were really bad.
Night 15: Is It Going to Stop F*cking Snowing?
Night 15/25
It’s June. I know I’m in the Arctic Circle. I know it’s not technically summer. But there is plenty of day light and enough mosquitos to think more relaxed moments laying out on the tundra would be at hand.
But it started snowing as we broke camp and snowed on and off until we were lifted off the refuge by Daniel and Matt in two separate Helio Couriers after night fifteen.
It was a short hike and we had two stream crossings. One was the most significant of our entire hike. At the beginning our guide had told us there would only be one stream crossing, but there were many. That there would be one stream crossing in 30 miles of Alaskan Arctic hiking seemed wrong to me, and I was right, by a lot.
It’s June. I know I’m in the Arctic Circle. I know it’s not technically summer. But there is plenty of day light and enough mosquitos to think more relaxed moments laying out on the tundra would be at hand.
But it started snowing as we broke camp and snowed on and off until we were lifted off the refuge by Daniel and Matt in two separate Helio Couriers after night fifteen.
It was a short hike and we had two stream crossings. One was the most significant of our entire hike. At the beginning our guide had told us there would only be one stream crossing, but there were many. That there would be one stream crossing in 30 miles of Alaskan Arctic hiking seemed wrong to me, and I was right, by a lot.
Night 14: Somebody is Frustrated
Night 14/25
Some of us were hiking too slowly. Some of us did not know how to put up a tent. Some of us did not get up early enough. And some of us did not know how to manage this group.
But only one person seemed really frustrated. And half the team seemed oblivious to this.
But we saw a grizzly that day. We watched from across the valley as it made its way up to an impossible looking saddle and popped over to the other drainage. We had two pair of binoculars on the trip. A really good birding pair and a less good but lighter weight backpacking set.
Some of us were hiking too slowly. Some of us did not know how to put up a tent. Some of us did not get up early enough. And some of us did not know how to manage this group.
But only one person seemed really frustrated. And half the team seemed oblivious to this.
But we saw a grizzly that day. We watched from across the valley as it made its way up to an impossible looking saddle and popped over to the other drainage. We had two pair of binoculars on the trip. A really good birding pair and a less good but lighter weight backpacking set.
Night 13: Leaving the High Peaks Behind
Night 13/25
So we woke up and it had snowed a couple of inches. Frozen rain had come down the night before but I don’t think any of us were expecting snow to stick to the ground. I did not expect to wake up, get outside to pee and see the yellow remnants marking the spot i had chosen.
That was supposed to be our layover day and our chance to hike up a high peak and see the rest of them. But it had snowed. We had stayed in bed late because it was cold and there had already been a lot of cold and we wanted to stay warm. And the snow makes the scree slippery. Michael did not want to take us up the peak on the slippery rocks so we decided to hike on. I don’t know if it ever really cleared up at the very tops of the peaks.
We had some fun at the little peak playing Arctic Mardi Gras.
So we woke up and it had snowed a couple of inches. Frozen rain had come down the night before but I don’t think any of us were expecting snow to stick to the ground. I did not expect to wake up, get outside to pee and see the yellow remnants marking the spot i had chosen.
That was supposed to be our layover day and our chance to hike up a high peak and see the rest of them. But it had snowed. We had stayed in bed late because it was cold and there had already been a lot of cold and we wanted to stay warm. And the snow makes the scree slippery. Michael did not want to take us up the peak on the slippery rocks so we decided to hike on. I don’t know if it ever really cleared up at the very tops of the peaks.
We had some fun at the little peak playing Arctic Mardi Gras.
Night 12: The Pass
Night 12/25
Day 3 of the hike was our pass day. We had to climb about 1500 feet. Which didn’t seem like a big deal to me, after all, I ran a race that had 3200 feet of climbing. And the elevation gain was not such a big deal for me. But the terrain was difficult. Some of it was scary. And the ground was wet, the rocks were slippery. That didn’t help. I had a moment.
A moment where I thought about myself slipping, then tumbling, then falling off the cliff the scree gave way to. I pulled it together pretty quickly. I reminded myself I had a Xochitl at home expecting me. I reminded myself to not look at the cliff but just at the next step in front of me. And I got through it. I don’t know how Kelsey got through it. She described that hike as the hardest thing she had done in her life. It was scary, she took it slowly, but she kept going.
Day 3 of the hike was our pass day. We had to climb about 1500 feet. Which didn’t seem like a big deal to me, after all, I ran a race that had 3200 feet of climbing. And the elevation gain was not such a big deal for me. But the terrain was difficult. Some of it was scary. And the ground was wet, the rocks were slippery. That didn’t help. I had a moment.
A moment where I thought about myself slipping, then tumbling, then falling off the cliff the scree gave way to. I pulled it together pretty quickly. I reminded myself I had a Xochitl at home expecting me. I reminded myself to not look at the cliff but just at the next step in front of me. And I got through it. I don’t know how Kelsey got through it. She described that hike as the hardest thing she had done in her life. It was scary, she took it slowly, but she kept going.
Night 11: We Saw Wolves
Night 11/25
I was told we were only going to hike a mile or a mile and a half. And maybe that’s only as far as we did hike, but it seemed to take us quite a long time.
Our guide could hike. I can hike. Rebecca can hike. Kelsey had hiked before, in Hawaii, where she is from. Ron used to be able to hike, but he has slowed down quite a bit. This isn’t really a huge problem except that at Ron’s pace I could not keep my extremities warm. If we stopped for a break I had to do jumping jacks or keep walking around everyone in circles. It helped that Ron is awesome, not to keep me warm, but to keep my attitude positive.
This day we did catch a break. It warmed up, the sun came out. We pitched camp and had those tundra moments that I’ll remember for as long as I can hold onto them. Everything dried out. We saw wolves. We went for a short day hike up a short peak near where we had spotted the wolves.
I was told we were only going to hike a mile or a mile and a half. And maybe that’s only as far as we did hike, but it seemed to take us quite a long time.
Our guide could hike. I can hike. Rebecca can hike. Kelsey had hiked before, in Hawaii, where she is from. Ron used to be able to hike, but he has slowed down quite a bit. This isn’t really a huge problem except that at Ron’s pace I could not keep my extremities warm. If we stopped for a break I had to do jumping jacks or keep walking around everyone in circles. It helped that Ron is awesome, not to keep me warm, but to keep my attitude positive.
This day we did catch a break. It warmed up, the sun came out. We pitched camp and had those tundra moments that I’ll remember for as long as I can hold onto them. Everything dried out. We saw wolves. We went for a short day hike up a short peak near where we had spotted the wolves.
Night 10: Arctic National Wildlife Refuge (ANWR)
Night 10/25
Getting dropped off in the rain sucks. It sucks more when an airplane is dropping you off in a remote wilderness and then you have to wait for the plane to go fetch the rest of your party and all you can do is stand around and wait. Or put up a megamid, get out of the wind and make hot drinks. Or walk around in circles to stay warm.
Also, it was cold. Last time I went backpacking in Alaska it started raining promptly as the bush plane flew away. But it wasn’t that hard, it wasn’t sustained, and it wasn’t that cold. None of that applied to this day.
I spent that night with my feet on Rebecca’s stomach they had gotten so numb. I explained that that had not happened in two decades.
But I was happy to be on the Tundra. I was happy to breath the ANWR air. I just wanted to also be warm.
On our hike we encountered Auf Eiss. It is very blue. I think I would have been even more impressed if the sun had been out. Or if I could have felt my toes. Better luck next time. But I have photos.
We were dropped off at Collins Strip on the Chandalar River. I feel like I had heard Michael say Chandalar 100 times, and now I have a picture and a sense of where it belongs in the scheme of ANWR and my mind.
We didn’t hike very far the first day, we needed to strike camp. It was cold, we were wet. And cold. I think I said we were cold. But there was a lot of cold on this hike.
Getting dropped off in the rain sucks. It sucks more when an airplane is dropping you off in a remote wilderness and then you have to wait for the plane to go fetch the rest of your party and all you can do is stand around and wait. Or put up a megamid, get out of the wind and make hot drinks. Or walk around in circles to stay warm.
Also, it was cold. Last time I went backpacking in Alaska it started raining promptly as the bush plane flew away. But it wasn’t that hard, it wasn’t sustained, and it wasn’t that cold. None of that applied to this day.
I spent that night with my feet on Rebecca’s stomach they had gotten so numb. I explained that that had not happened in two decades.
But I was happy to be on the Tundra. I was happy to breath the ANWR air. I just wanted to also be warm.
On our hike we encountered Auf Eiss. It is very blue. I think I would have been even more impressed if the sun had been out. Or if I could have felt my toes. Better luck next time. But I have photos.
We were dropped off at Collins Strip on the Chandalar River. I feel like I had heard Michael say Chandalar 100 times, and now I have a picture and a sense of where it belongs in the scheme of ANWR and my mind.
We didn’t hike very far the first day, we needed to strike camp. It was cold, we were wet. And cold. I think I said we were cold. But there was a lot of cold on this hike.
Friday, June 5, 2015
Predicting the Weather
I studied geology in college and grad school. Petrology and mineral physics to be more precise. But after I moved to Boston I have often thought that if I had grown up there I would have studied meteorology.
People from the east coast liked to tell me that California doesn’t have seasons, or at least not “four true season”. And before I lived on the east coast I would argue they were wrong. However, it’s not so much that they are wrong, it’s that I don’t care. Whatever seasons we have in California, they are what I know. And they are generally harsh enough, or not, for me.
But prediciting the weather is difficult, especially in places where weather moves through swiftly. Boston is one of those places. As are it seems like any mountain range I have ever spent time in. And the Brooks Range is a doozy, it will snow whenever it feels like it. Like today in Arctic Village.
I am scheduled to fly through Arctic Village on Saturday.
The weather for my upcoming 6 nights in the Alaskan bush is predicted to have some weather. I meant to write that, it is not a typo, or a mistake. And the highs are a little low for my taste. But I am ready. Mentally. And likely physically, and gear wise. I am ready to be snug in my tent, warm, and possibly clammy for the duration. I have gear packed in plastic bags inside stuff sacks inside my backpack. I have gear in lightweight dry bags. I will have a positive attitude and remember to enjoy the physicality, the scenery, and the hot chocolate.
Some trips I forget to prep for the very wet. Or more accurately, I don’t think of it. I like to say that you pack for the last trip you were on, not the one you are about to participate in. Since I live and backpack in California, those previous trips were often dry. Or, it might have rained for an hour, or a bit overnight. But end of the summer trip to Wyoming last year, is a huge reminder to batten down the hatches. Sometimes I don’t want to add the weight and become too optimistic as a result. But more than that for this trip, i want dry socks. So all the socks went into a dry bag. And having dry socks while backpacking in Alaska is a bit of a losing game, but if I play my cards right, I might be able to start every day wearing dry socks. And not the ones I save for only at night out of the wet, in the tent, and maybe, but probably not, in my sleeping bag.
People from the east coast liked to tell me that California doesn’t have seasons, or at least not “four true season”. And before I lived on the east coast I would argue they were wrong. However, it’s not so much that they are wrong, it’s that I don’t care. Whatever seasons we have in California, they are what I know. And they are generally harsh enough, or not, for me.
But prediciting the weather is difficult, especially in places where weather moves through swiftly. Boston is one of those places. As are it seems like any mountain range I have ever spent time in. And the Brooks Range is a doozy, it will snow whenever it feels like it. Like today in Arctic Village.
I am scheduled to fly through Arctic Village on Saturday.
The weather for my upcoming 6 nights in the Alaskan bush is predicted to have some weather. I meant to write that, it is not a typo, or a mistake. And the highs are a little low for my taste. But I am ready. Mentally. And likely physically, and gear wise. I am ready to be snug in my tent, warm, and possibly clammy for the duration. I have gear packed in plastic bags inside stuff sacks inside my backpack. I have gear in lightweight dry bags. I will have a positive attitude and remember to enjoy the physicality, the scenery, and the hot chocolate.
Some trips I forget to prep for the very wet. Or more accurately, I don’t think of it. I like to say that you pack for the last trip you were on, not the one you are about to participate in. Since I live and backpack in California, those previous trips were often dry. Or, it might have rained for an hour, or a bit overnight. But end of the summer trip to Wyoming last year, is a huge reminder to batten down the hatches. Sometimes I don’t want to add the weight and become too optimistic as a result. But more than that for this trip, i want dry socks. So all the socks went into a dry bag. And having dry socks while backpacking in Alaska is a bit of a losing game, but if I play my cards right, I might be able to start every day wearing dry socks. And not the ones I save for only at night out of the wet, in the tent, and maybe, but probably not, in my sleeping bag.
Alaska in the Summer
The sun doesn’t set.
I feel like I need to write that again.
The sun doesn’t set.
I mean, we know this. Intellectually I have known this. I can explain why. But until you are there it just doesn’t make sense. In the way that some things you cannot know until you experience them because it does not make sense to your body.
Right now I am on an airplane, an hour and fifteen minutes from landing in Fairbanks. It is 10:00p.m. and there are no signs of twilight, evening, sunset, nothing. I am extraordinarily tired. Tired for sleep. I want to shut my eyes and sleep. But my body will not let me. I need all the other things that mean sleep: horizontality, freshly brushed teeth, ear plugs, a blanket on top of me, or sleep is just not going to happen.
Headache be damned.
And I have experienced this before. I have been to Alaska in the summer, I have felt the sun not set. Day after day. But every time it is new.
I have never been to Alaska in the winter, and I do not know if I could handle that. To never have the light, seems really unpleasant. How would you ever have any energy to do anything?
I feel like I need to write that again.
The sun doesn’t set.
I mean, we know this. Intellectually I have known this. I can explain why. But until you are there it just doesn’t make sense. In the way that some things you cannot know until you experience them because it does not make sense to your body.
Right now I am on an airplane, an hour and fifteen minutes from landing in Fairbanks. It is 10:00p.m. and there are no signs of twilight, evening, sunset, nothing. I am extraordinarily tired. Tired for sleep. I want to shut my eyes and sleep. But my body will not let me. I need all the other things that mean sleep: horizontality, freshly brushed teeth, ear plugs, a blanket on top of me, or sleep is just not going to happen.
Headache be damned.
And I have experienced this before. I have been to Alaska in the summer, I have felt the sun not set. Day after day. But every time it is new.
I have never been to Alaska in the winter, and I do not know if I could handle that. To never have the light, seems really unpleasant. How would you ever have any energy to do anything?
Missing My Little Bean
So, yeah. This is the thing I want to overcome. I don’t want to not miss her, (as Rebecca points out, and which I always like to hear, helps to remind me of the coping strategies) I just want to not freak the fuck out. I don’t need to hyperventilate, I don’t need to jump into a rabbit hole of anxiety laden tears. It doesn’t do Xochitl any good. It doesn’t do me any good.
I still feel good about her and my love for her if I don’t freak out. She feels my love. She wants my hugs. She wants to spend time with me. And I want to hug her and feel her love. We miss each other. That is ok. She will be ok. I imagine her in pain. And she may be in some emotional pain, but it will be short lived. She will get up, and go to school in the morning and her friends will distract her. Or her father will comfort her. She’ll bury her head in his voluminous beard and wish for me like I am wishing for her. And then she will fall asleep. And hopefully I will too. We will wake up in the morning I’ll be thinking about bears, and peeing, and getting ready for the day of hiking, and her. And she will be wondering if it is 7:00a.m. or later so she can have her iPad. And maybe she is thinking of me. And if not, that is ok. It is not her job.
It has come down to freaking out because I can’t just hug her. I can’t drive an hour and be hugging her at school while she pushes me away so she can run out to the slide or play with her friend.
I guess I freak out, in particular at the beginning of a trip because the days stretch ahead to seeming infinity. However, they are not infinite. They have a finite number of hours (because in AK the sun is not rising and setting right now) and the trip will end. And I hope that the trip will end and I will have enjoyed it, loved it, cherished it. I want to have stories and descriptions for her. Soon i’ll be home telling her all about my trip, showing her photos, and telling her that I can’t wait to take her.
And wishing I were back on the Tundra.
I still feel good about her and my love for her if I don’t freak out. She feels my love. She wants my hugs. She wants to spend time with me. And I want to hug her and feel her love. We miss each other. That is ok. She will be ok. I imagine her in pain. And she may be in some emotional pain, but it will be short lived. She will get up, and go to school in the morning and her friends will distract her. Or her father will comfort her. She’ll bury her head in his voluminous beard and wish for me like I am wishing for her. And then she will fall asleep. And hopefully I will too. We will wake up in the morning I’ll be thinking about bears, and peeing, and getting ready for the day of hiking, and her. And she will be wondering if it is 7:00a.m. or later so she can have her iPad. And maybe she is thinking of me. And if not, that is ok. It is not her job.
It has come down to freaking out because I can’t just hug her. I can’t drive an hour and be hugging her at school while she pushes me away so she can run out to the slide or play with her friend.
I guess I freak out, in particular at the beginning of a trip because the days stretch ahead to seeming infinity. However, they are not infinite. They have a finite number of hours (because in AK the sun is not rising and setting right now) and the trip will end. And I hope that the trip will end and I will have enjoyed it, loved it, cherished it. I want to have stories and descriptions for her. Soon i’ll be home telling her all about my trip, showing her photos, and telling her that I can’t wait to take her.
And wishing I were back on the Tundra.
June 4, 2015
two months ago today i was on my way to my NOLS canyoneering course. I freaked out about the prospect of not seeing Xo for so many nights. I panicked. I started panicking tonight at the airport in Seattle. Right before my flight boarded. It is one thing to be in Seattle, it is not that far. it is another thing entirely to be in Fairbanks. Today, I head to Fairbanks then Saturday to the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge (ANWR) for 6 nights of hiking.
I am using the coping strategies I learned when I took my panic class so many years ago: no catastrophizing, mantras like: just because you are panicking doesn’t mean there is something to panic about, deep breathing, etc.
i am rereading my journal from Red Mountain about how my life felt like it was just about Javier and Xo and their needs and wants. And I don’t feel like that right now. I feel like I have things going in my life for me. For us. For her. I don’t want her to think I don’t do anything. That I am nobody. I want my daughter to know that I am somebody, that I was somebody, that I made something of myself. All of the things that I did before she was here or had a memory. And that I keep moving forward, because that is what one does.
I am using the coping strategies I learned when I took my panic class so many years ago: no catastrophizing, mantras like: just because you are panicking doesn’t mean there is something to panic about, deep breathing, etc.
i am rereading my journal from Red Mountain about how my life felt like it was just about Javier and Xo and their needs and wants. And I don’t feel like that right now. I feel like I have things going in my life for me. For us. For her. I don’t want her to think I don’t do anything. That I am nobody. I want my daughter to know that I am somebody, that I was somebody, that I made something of myself. All of the things that I did before she was here or had a memory. And that I keep moving forward, because that is what one does.
The Water Method
I’m almost certain I had heard about the water method before. But I think that maybe I wasn’t ready to listen until now. I finally tried it.
I think I was ready because of the itchy bottom problem I have had since I gave birth. My dermatologist told me I have to stop blaming things on having had a baby, but I like the notion that there are no problems to blame on anyone better.
Enter the water method.
It’s a method of cleaning yourself after you poop.
Joe Frost from my NOLS almuni canyoneering trip taught it to us, and I committed myself to trying it for the duration of this season. Not just that hike, this entire season. I believe in giving things a real chance. Set it up for success and all that. Joe said it might be life changing, and I think he is right.
Because i don’t just do it in the field, I have been doing it at home when it is an option and it has improved my bottom problem dramatically.
It’s like this:
you go.
no, wait, that is not how it starts.
you prep. make your hole. lay out your tools. water and soap. make them easy to access, easier than you think they need to be.
then go.
then reach one hand around from behind you under your legs. put water into your cupped hand. clean your bottom with it. repeat until it’s clean.
yes, you will have poop on your hand, the dirty hand, the one you used to do the act of cleaning. not the hand you poured the water with, that one is still clean.
fill your mouth with drinking water, hold it there. use your clean hand to do this.
get your soap, soap your hands. scrub like you are a surgeon. like. you. are. going. to. be. doing. surgery. dribble water out of your mouth onto your hands to rinse. while this is happening, your bum will dry (this part is more of a fantasy of mine).
your very clean, happy, will not be itching in the future, bum will dry.
Hike on sister, hike on.
I think I was ready because of the itchy bottom problem I have had since I gave birth. My dermatologist told me I have to stop blaming things on having had a baby, but I like the notion that there are no problems to blame on anyone better.
Enter the water method.
It’s a method of cleaning yourself after you poop.
Joe Frost from my NOLS almuni canyoneering trip taught it to us, and I committed myself to trying it for the duration of this season. Not just that hike, this entire season. I believe in giving things a real chance. Set it up for success and all that. Joe said it might be life changing, and I think he is right.
Because i don’t just do it in the field, I have been doing it at home when it is an option and it has improved my bottom problem dramatically.
It’s like this:
you go.
no, wait, that is not how it starts.
you prep. make your hole. lay out your tools. water and soap. make them easy to access, easier than you think they need to be.
then go.
then reach one hand around from behind you under your legs. put water into your cupped hand. clean your bottom with it. repeat until it’s clean.
yes, you will have poop on your hand, the dirty hand, the one you used to do the act of cleaning. not the hand you poured the water with, that one is still clean.
fill your mouth with drinking water, hold it there. use your clean hand to do this.
get your soap, soap your hands. scrub like you are a surgeon. like. you. are. going. to. be. doing. surgery. dribble water out of your mouth onto your hands to rinse. while this is happening, your bum will dry (this part is more of a fantasy of mine).
your very clean, happy, will not be itching in the future, bum will dry.
Hike on sister, hike on.
Trench Foot
Sounds shitty right?
It is painful, it is waxy, it is pink, and I have experienced it first hand. This fact seemed to impress a few people in my WFR course.
The thing is, not only because it was a long time ago, but also because I don’t remember it being that big a deal when I was actually in the field, I don’t think it’s very impressive. It did hurt a lot when I got back to town and my feet, “thawed”. It fucking hurt. The quality of pain was that it burned. My big toes burned. As in the fire type of burning. I have not forgotten that.
But mostly I think about having had trench foot because it was written in my evaluation, it counted against me. And that bothered me. I felt like there was nothing I could do about it. I had done everything I could with the gear I had, the gear they told me to bring. I slept with socks in between layers, on my person, i kept them anywhere I thought might get them dry. But ragg wool socks don’t want to dry unless it’s warm or sunny or they are in a dryer. I put my feet on whoever had a willing belly. I did everything they told me to do. It just didn’t work. I needed more socks or different socks. Or?
What was not taken into account when we were gearing up is that my feet are horribly sweaty. Or maybe not. But sweaty enough that I got trench foot in our 21 days winter camping in Yellowstone. I wasn’t alone, 3 others also got it. One pretty badly as I recall, but she did not need to be evaced. And neither did I. No one was sent out of the field because of that condition.
Success!
It is painful, it is waxy, it is pink, and I have experienced it first hand. This fact seemed to impress a few people in my WFR course.
The thing is, not only because it was a long time ago, but also because I don’t remember it being that big a deal when I was actually in the field, I don’t think it’s very impressive. It did hurt a lot when I got back to town and my feet, “thawed”. It fucking hurt. The quality of pain was that it burned. My big toes burned. As in the fire type of burning. I have not forgotten that.
But mostly I think about having had trench foot because it was written in my evaluation, it counted against me. And that bothered me. I felt like there was nothing I could do about it. I had done everything I could with the gear I had, the gear they told me to bring. I slept with socks in between layers, on my person, i kept them anywhere I thought might get them dry. But ragg wool socks don’t want to dry unless it’s warm or sunny or they are in a dryer. I put my feet on whoever had a willing belly. I did everything they told me to do. It just didn’t work. I needed more socks or different socks. Or?
What was not taken into account when we were gearing up is that my feet are horribly sweaty. Or maybe not. But sweaty enough that I got trench foot in our 21 days winter camping in Yellowstone. I wasn’t alone, 3 others also got it. One pretty badly as I recall, but she did not need to be evaced. And neither did I. No one was sent out of the field because of that condition.
Success!
Night 9: Babies Cry
Night 9/25
This night, my sister and brother-in-law had had enough of their own kiddo! Around midnight when she was crying, they drove home. They left most of their gear. In the morning, when I discovered they had left, I figured I, along with help from everyone else, would be cleaning their stuff up and brining it home.
But then they showed up! They drove back up for breakfast, and to get their gear. It was really fun to see them show up again.
It wasn’t my favorite camping trip. There was too much eating and not enough activity. But, the kids loved it, and we got out. We all got out together. I’m glad we went and we are trying to pick a weekend for a follow up trip.
This night, my sister and brother-in-law had had enough of their own kiddo! Around midnight when she was crying, they drove home. They left most of their gear. In the morning, when I discovered they had left, I figured I, along with help from everyone else, would be cleaning their stuff up and brining it home.
But then they showed up! They drove back up for breakfast, and to get their gear. It was really fun to see them show up again.
It wasn’t my favorite camping trip. There was too much eating and not enough activity. But, the kids loved it, and we got out. We all got out together. I’m glad we went and we are trying to pick a weekend for a follow up trip.
Night 8: Turn Around and Get Back Out
Night 8/25
It seemed like a good idea when I planned it. My sisters wanted to go camping and I wanted to take them. I got back from Canyoneering on Sunday morning and we were headed to Memorial County Park in San Mateo for two nights of camping Friday.
It made for a really busy week of laundry, packing camping gear, grocery shopping, etc.
That my sisters don’t camp much was a big reason why I wanted to make the push. I know the kids love camping and I want to go camping with my sisters and our families. It is funny for me, after a lifetime of camping and outdoor activities to see them in the great outdoors, they seem somewhat out of place.
Memorial Park sits up on top of the hills/mountains between the bay and the coast, i think of it as above Redwood City. It is a park of quiet redwoods and a stream that flows in less drought stricken years. I can remember swimming there when I was a kid. The carpenter union picnics were held there and i very distinctly remember pie eating contests and swimming with my aunts (who are only about 10 years older than me). It is some nice camping. There are flush toilets, water spigots and usually showers. Although this year, due to the drought, there will be no showers available.
I showed up early and put up my tent. It’s our new tent that Javier picked out. The mTn Glo one with the fancy lights inside. You can read my review. I do very much, dig, that tent.
Xochitl got really into peeing outside. She even wanted to do it in the daytime when it was really only appropriate to use the toilets. She even got Jack into it.
My sister and her husband brought their 11 month old daughter who had a tough time over night. And they were really concerned that her crying would keep all the people at the campground up. Or at least our nearest neighbors. But miraculously, I slept. Which is an event in my life.
It seemed like a good idea when I planned it. My sisters wanted to go camping and I wanted to take them. I got back from Canyoneering on Sunday morning and we were headed to Memorial County Park in San Mateo for two nights of camping Friday.
It made for a really busy week of laundry, packing camping gear, grocery shopping, etc.
That my sisters don’t camp much was a big reason why I wanted to make the push. I know the kids love camping and I want to go camping with my sisters and our families. It is funny for me, after a lifetime of camping and outdoor activities to see them in the great outdoors, they seem somewhat out of place.
Memorial Park sits up on top of the hills/mountains between the bay and the coast, i think of it as above Redwood City. It is a park of quiet redwoods and a stream that flows in less drought stricken years. I can remember swimming there when I was a kid. The carpenter union picnics were held there and i very distinctly remember pie eating contests and swimming with my aunts (who are only about 10 years older than me). It is some nice camping. There are flush toilets, water spigots and usually showers. Although this year, due to the drought, there will be no showers available.
I showed up early and put up my tent. It’s our new tent that Javier picked out. The mTn Glo one with the fancy lights inside. You can read my review. I do very much, dig, that tent.
Xochitl got really into peeing outside. She even wanted to do it in the daytime when it was really only appropriate to use the toilets. She even got Jack into it.
My sister and her husband brought their 11 month old daughter who had a tough time over night. And they were really concerned that her crying would keep all the people at the campground up. Or at least our nearest neighbors. But miraculously, I slept. Which is an event in my life.
I'm a WFR!
When I was 19 a WFR seemed like quite a thing. A Wilderness First Responder sounded like a lot of training. An accomplishment. An expensive time commitment. Something I could not afford in either money or time. They also seemed exoctic. The only WFRs I knew were NOLS instructors. I had a WFA, wilderness first aid certification, and among the folks I traveled in the backcountry with, that was a lot.
Well, I finished my WFR less than a week ago! I am officially certified as a Wilderness First Responder by the Wilderness Medicine Institute (WMI). I am proud, and excited, and glad I did it.
It was a really fun class. I signed up on the NOLS web site, but it was run through a company called Ready SF. 30 of us started the class, 28 finished. It is intensive. At 10 days, full, long days, I was ready for a break by the end. And we had a day off in the middle. But I spent the whole day doing tasks that I had not had a chance to do during my class.
We had two night sessions. One was indoors, learning splints. One was outdoors, a night time scenario in small groups. That was my favorite part of the class. It was just really fun. Even though it was a chilly night (the whole course was cold, windy, and foggy) I managed to stay fairly warm (thank goodness for hand and foot warmers) and enjoy the view of SF from the Marin Headlands. The city lights poking through the fog are pretty awesome.
I met a bunch of really great people and learned a ton. A ton I hope I never have to use. Not for lack of backcountry time, but for lack of accidents.
Well, I finished my WFR less than a week ago! I am officially certified as a Wilderness First Responder by the Wilderness Medicine Institute (WMI). I am proud, and excited, and glad I did it.
It was a really fun class. I signed up on the NOLS web site, but it was run through a company called Ready SF. 30 of us started the class, 28 finished. It is intensive. At 10 days, full, long days, I was ready for a break by the end. And we had a day off in the middle. But I spent the whole day doing tasks that I had not had a chance to do during my class.
We had two night sessions. One was indoors, learning splints. One was outdoors, a night time scenario in small groups. That was my favorite part of the class. It was just really fun. Even though it was a chilly night (the whole course was cold, windy, and foggy) I managed to stay fairly warm (thank goodness for hand and foot warmers) and enjoy the view of SF from the Marin Headlands. The city lights poking through the fog are pretty awesome.
I met a bunch of really great people and learned a ton. A ton I hope I never have to use. Not for lack of backcountry time, but for lack of accidents.
The Day You Go Back
You hike to the trailhead. Maybe you are crying. Maybe you don’t know why. You get in the car or bus or van or airplane. Your dust covered or soaking wet gear gets stowed and your dust covered or soaking wet, but certainly smelly body gets into the vehicle. If you are lucky you have your “city hat” to change into. Otherwise it’s big floppy hat or beanie the whole way back.
If it’s a van you roll slowly out on the dirt road until you hit the pavement where you can speed up. Everyone’s body smells filling up the cavity of the vehicle. It can be unpleasant, but you probably don’t care that much, unless you kind of hate the people you were hiking with. I did not. I very much liked them. And when you very much like them on the last day, it was a good, good trip.
Then you drive and drive.
If my trip was really good I lose my appetite. I might be hungry, really hungry, but I still don’t want to eat. Then sometimes I get around food and I start shoving it in my face like an animal. Results will vary depending upon how I ate while on the trip. But there is a time frame where eating just doesn’t seem like the thing to do.
On the canyons trip we had a van and I had a window seat. As we pushed back towards Grand Junction I got to keep staring out at the Canyon Country: Comb Ridge, Comb Wash, the Bears Ears, The La Sals, The Henrys. Places that fill up much of my memory of my NOLS semester. They were huge for me when I was 19. They still are huge for me. I hope someday they can be huge for Xo and I together.
I think about how I don’t want to go. How I want to stay out. Maybe go back, get a house in Blanding, Moab, Vegas? Just a jumping off point. All kinds of life fantasies fill up my brain…
If it’s a van you roll slowly out on the dirt road until you hit the pavement where you can speed up. Everyone’s body smells filling up the cavity of the vehicle. It can be unpleasant, but you probably don’t care that much, unless you kind of hate the people you were hiking with. I did not. I very much liked them. And when you very much like them on the last day, it was a good, good trip.
Then you drive and drive.
If my trip was really good I lose my appetite. I might be hungry, really hungry, but I still don’t want to eat. Then sometimes I get around food and I start shoving it in my face like an animal. Results will vary depending upon how I ate while on the trip. But there is a time frame where eating just doesn’t seem like the thing to do.
On the canyons trip we had a van and I had a window seat. As we pushed back towards Grand Junction I got to keep staring out at the Canyon Country: Comb Ridge, Comb Wash, the Bears Ears, The La Sals, The Henrys. Places that fill up much of my memory of my NOLS semester. They were huge for me when I was 19. They still are huge for me. I hope someday they can be huge for Xo and I together.
I think about how I don’t want to go. How I want to stay out. Maybe go back, get a house in Blanding, Moab, Vegas? Just a jumping off point. All kinds of life fantasies fill up my brain…
Night 7: I still have my hair.
Night 7/25
There was another brief swim on today’s hike. Very brief. I was more confident, it was easier. I kept my shirt on, having learned from the previous swim that I would only get everything wet if I were going to wear my bra.
I got my hair caught in the rappel device on our second to last rappel of the trip.
I”ll repeat that.
I got my hair stuck in the rappel device.
I was almost at the bottom and there was a tree and I started a conversation with the belayer so I turned my head to the left. It swung my braid around and as I continued to lower myself my hair was consumed by the ATC. I noticed right away and stopped myself and started saying, “Hair, hair, hair.” as some sort of explanation. Visions of lopping off a braid with my pocket knife started dancing in my head.
I love my hair. I spend money on my hair. I do all kinds of fun things with color and cut. And I love my hair. So, I was thrilled when Mesa suggested that somebody come over and stand up underneath me (that’s how close I was to the ground). The captain (John Wagner did) and then Chris did and Chris worked my braid out of the rap device.
It was scary for me. I thought about how it would have been if I had been higher up on the wall. Or if I had been descending more quickly. When I got down I was shaking. I needed to not belay the next person. I needed to take a break. I walked around a little. I curled up in the fetal position on the ground for a minute. I thought I was going to cry and then realized I could not and explained that I would save my cry for later.
I love my hair. I love not falling. I love not making mistakes rappelling 60 feet.
There was another brief swim on today’s hike. Very brief. I was more confident, it was easier. I kept my shirt on, having learned from the previous swim that I would only get everything wet if I were going to wear my bra.
I got my hair caught in the rappel device on our second to last rappel of the trip.
I”ll repeat that.
I got my hair stuck in the rappel device.
I was almost at the bottom and there was a tree and I started a conversation with the belayer so I turned my head to the left. It swung my braid around and as I continued to lower myself my hair was consumed by the ATC. I noticed right away and stopped myself and started saying, “Hair, hair, hair.” as some sort of explanation. Visions of lopping off a braid with my pocket knife started dancing in my head.
I love my hair. I spend money on my hair. I do all kinds of fun things with color and cut. And I love my hair. So, I was thrilled when Mesa suggested that somebody come over and stand up underneath me (that’s how close I was to the ground). The captain (John Wagner did) and then Chris did and Chris worked my braid out of the rap device.
It was scary for me. I thought about how it would have been if I had been higher up on the wall. Or if I had been descending more quickly. When I got down I was shaking. I needed to not belay the next person. I needed to take a break. I walked around a little. I curled up in the fetal position on the ground for a minute. I thought I was going to cry and then realized I could not and explained that I would save my cry for later.
I love my hair. I love not falling. I love not making mistakes rappelling 60 feet.
Night 6: Check it Again
Night 6/25
Today was our first day of hiking with packs and rappels. Lowering packs takes time. We were pretty efficient, but every drop took over an hour. And you are not covering much ground during that time. I was nervous rappelling. We had our longest most exposed rappel, and i went close to the end. I realized that was a bad strategy. I spent a lot of time waiting up top getting nervous. I implored Joe to, “check it again.” Meaning my harness and knot set up. My OCD kicks in when I am nervous, and I am a checker.
It was a pretty incredible day though.
It was also the point in our hike when we started to head for home, back to the trailhead. We had turned around. After that part of hike it often gets emotionally easier for me because I know I am headed towards Xochitl. And that feels good.
Today was our first day of hiking with packs and rappels. Lowering packs takes time. We were pretty efficient, but every drop took over an hour. And you are not covering much ground during that time. I was nervous rappelling. We had our longest most exposed rappel, and i went close to the end. I realized that was a bad strategy. I spent a lot of time waiting up top getting nervous. I implored Joe to, “check it again.” Meaning my harness and knot set up. My OCD kicks in when I am nervous, and I am a checker.
It was a pretty incredible day though.
It was also the point in our hike when we started to head for home, back to the trailhead. We had turned around. After that part of hike it often gets emotionally easier for me because I know I am headed towards Xochitl. And that feels good.
Night 5: Being Nice to Myself
Night 5/25
I had a choice of hike groups today. One was going over and one was going around. The over route looked impossible to me. It did not look like a hike but a climb with packs. One of our leaders explained, “it’s not as vertical as it looks”. Which became one of my favorite phrases from the trip. Because they ended up needing to rappel a lot more than they had planned. So, basically, it was pretty fucking vertical.
Our hike was pretty easy, it did seem long, but I think because we were not going that fast. I think if we could have gone my pace we would have knocked it out in a few hours. I remember being somewhat annoyed at our pace. Mostly because i don’t think mesa hiking is all that fun. It’s dusty, and dirtier than canyon hiking needs to be.
The weather was not good. It was our coldest day, it looked like it would rain. It did not. But Kim and I put up our megamid and it looked like a decent set up, like it could handle some rain. we even slept under it, I could see stars from underneath the bottom. That’s the thing about sleeping on top of the mesa, it’s flat and you get 180 degrees of clear beautiful star gazing.
I like that night. I loved seeing the stars peak in.
I had a choice of hike groups today. One was going over and one was going around. The over route looked impossible to me. It did not look like a hike but a climb with packs. One of our leaders explained, “it’s not as vertical as it looks”. Which became one of my favorite phrases from the trip. Because they ended up needing to rappel a lot more than they had planned. So, basically, it was pretty fucking vertical.
Our hike was pretty easy, it did seem long, but I think because we were not going that fast. I think if we could have gone my pace we would have knocked it out in a few hours. I remember being somewhat annoyed at our pace. Mostly because i don’t think mesa hiking is all that fun. It’s dusty, and dirtier than canyon hiking needs to be.
The weather was not good. It was our coldest day, it looked like it would rain. It did not. But Kim and I put up our megamid and it looked like a decent set up, like it could handle some rain. we even slept under it, I could see stars from underneath the bottom. That’s the thing about sleeping on top of the mesa, it’s flat and you get 180 degrees of clear beautiful star gazing.
I like that night. I loved seeing the stars peak in.
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