Limits

Jeff and I ventured out on another backpacking excursion on Saturday afternoon. We ignored the weather warnings, and decided to hike the four and a half miles to Reed Lakes. I already had the "not so up for backpacking again, but went anyway to make my love happy" feeling, when we heard a big rumble of thunder about a mile into our hike. We hardly ever hear thunder up here in Alaska (this was only my third time ever hearing it up here). I was suddenly giddy from the roaring thunder, but my spirits were soon crushed by the immediately down pour. I looked at Jeff and told him I didn't want to hike anymore. He encouraged me to push through, and said it would be an adventure. I said OK, and kept on truckin'.

We got soaked pretty quickly, and I started to worry about our back packs. Only our clothes were in dry bags, and we didn't have rain covers for our packs. I looked at soaking-wet Oscar and wondered how we would sleep comfortably with him in our tents with us.

We stumbled over wet rocks and slippery mud, and were very grateful for our brand new trekking poles. I started to gain a little confidence when BAM!! I slipped on the mud and fell all the way to ground. I was shocked, and immediately started crying. I was officially miserable. I declared that I wanted to go back, and Jeff didn't argue this time. We started back down the hill when BAM!!! down I went again. Then BAM!! down Jeff went. We decided to take some of the trip back on our bums. Yep, we chose to just slide down the hill, careful not to slide all the way down.

I was disappointed that I didn't want to finish, and camp in the wet mud. I kept apologizing to Jeff, but he said that he was proud of me for knowing my limits. I guess I don't like hiking in the pouring rain and mud. Who knew?

Oscar, on the other hand, could have hiked for ten more miles in the stuff. That dog loves being wet.