Sunday, December 31, 2017

Skyline Trail

August 4, 2017: Major sandwich-making going on up in here. The fam & I, along with some friends, but minus Pazely, are going on a hiking adventure up Skyline Trail tomorrow. I've already heard the horror stories. I'm scared.
I don't care HOW long it takes me. I will get to the top even if I have to crawl there! Leaving early in the morning. Can't wait! #skylinetrail #hikingadventure #imightdie #caniridepiggyback #slowpokeaintnojoke

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I am not a very sporty human. Not athletic in the least. I like playing some sports. I'm just not good at them. I like being a team player. But nobody wants me there. If I ever am chosen, it is last. It's no hit to my pride. I have embraced my awkwardness on the field, on the rink, on the court, & now...on the trail. 

About an hour & a half drive, near Cooper Landing, the 4-mile round-trip walking trek began. Two miles one-way to the east peak, with an elevation gain of 2888', & described as "very strenuous".
It is a steep one. Everywhere. All the time. Extreme terrain.
The whole hike took us 6 hours. And, technically, I don't think what we climbed was called "a mountain", but for today's purposes, & for all the times I ever talk about this trip in the future, I will refer to it as such.

I am not particularly what one would call a "fit" person. I hate exercise. I am slow, I am a whiner. And although the Mr. gave me several opportunities to back out, leading up to the day of the hike, I insisted on this challenge.

Thirty minutes in, I was in tears.
Up. Up. Always up. The vertical was never-ending. 
I couldn't stop breathing so heavy, so deep. I am sure I broke the record for most breaks taken on the ascent. Obvs. Nine in our crew & I was in the back of the pack all day. I was jealous of little Henry, in the toddler pack, strapped on his dad's back. Do they make those in my size? I need to look into that.
My lungs burned.

One thing I was sure of: If I heard the words "We're almost there!" one more time, I was gonna throw some sand. Or kick a wildflower. Or do something equally as intimidating. 

Now, I have not described in much detail the mental game of endurance that I was subject to, or the physical game of taking a stroll from hell through this forest that would JUST...NOT...END.
But those things were all there.

Hours later, we made it to the top. I made it! I was sweaty & giddy! We looked over the flatlands. Those views were my motivation. I wanted to be able to say I'd been there, seen that.

I set my toes set free on the summit. Wiggled them in the fresh mountain air.

There used to be a book at the top, kept in a box, which hikers would sign, but it was missing. Instead, we found some signatures scribbled on a weathered wooden board. With a blue-colored ink pen left by a stranger, I signed my name alongside the others.

I pulled the sandwiches out of my backpack for some lunch on the summit. They were smashed & soggy. I couldn't stomach eating them. They didn't even taste sandwich-like. I decided the next time I climb a mountain, which I'll never do again, I'm bringing a gourmet meal. Maybe even some fancy napkins.



After some more jubilation, some selfies, some consumption of water, it was time for the hike back. 

On the way down, we found an enchanted forest, thick trees covered in moss, tangled limbs swooping low, tempting hikers for a sit or a climb. I saw fuzzy blooms on flowers. And red waxy leaves growing on charcoal colored lichen. Bright yellow fungus. Mushrooms of several varieties.



Down-down-down we went. The slope of the trail was beginning to hurt my feet. I took photos to take my mind off the pain. Eventually I was in too much pain to take photos. I was sure my toes were a bloody mess. The pain was so intense that I decided to just walk in my socks. For over half the descent, I walked without my shoes on. I have tough feet, but still. Ouchie mama. I got several wide-eyed looks from passers-by. 

The Mr. softened his stride to walk with me, sacrificing his position in first place, to make sure his wife was ok in the last slot. Because, apparently, everything is a competition for all the healthy people of the world, & I'm all back here just trying to survive.

We also saw a bear. So, not only did I have to worry about blood loss in my phalanges, but also getting eaten by a wild animal. This day was getting better & better all the time.

As I continued on with the hike, I had two thoughts:
1. Lord Jesus, send a helicopter NOW!
2. I would rather give birth again, than do this hike.
This was an intense experience. This was THE hardest thing I had ever done in my entire life. 
Even though each step was more painful than the last, I kept putting one dirty socked foot in front of the other dirty socked foot.
Because that's what you do when things get hard: you make footprints on a mountain. 
You also sometimes slide down on your butt because your feet hurt too bad.
But then you end up with a big 'ol spot on your rearend that looks like you pooped your pants.
So there's that.

I called in the direction of several hikers heading up, "You're almost there!"
It was a cruel & false statement. Yet hilarious.
I snickered.
Loudly.

And then I saw it: telephone poles! I never thought I'd be so happy to see a telephone pole in all my life! Adorable cables connected to telephone terminals, all in a happy little row.
*sigh*
I cried.
It meant we were getting close. Not close enough, but my helicopter hadn't arrived yet.

Hundreds of steps later, I heard it: traffic! Vehicles whooshing by, right below us! 
I cried again. 
We were so close to making it all the way back to the cutest little parking lot where the cutest little mini van was waiting to take me to the cutest little house where I could take a hot bath, crank up the heating pad, soak my feet.
Where I could eat good things, & not walk.

Seeing the sign at the end of the trail, I cried.
Again.
They were weird happy-sad tears. Plus I was laughing, too. My emotions were a hodgepodge. It was pain & elation mixed all together. 
But I had done it.
Achievement unlocked.

On the ride home, we took account of our wounds & hot-mess status. Zoey had dirt leggings. Haha!
Though I was afraid to take my socks off, my toes were not bloody. (A few months later I would lose my big toenails. And I'm still tending my wounds: Hashtag fungus.)

After we got home, I hobbled around like an old lady for a few days. There were so many sore things all over me.
You can believe I bragged about this accomplishment for a very long time. I am so proud of myself. So stinkin' proud. Go me! And you can also believe I will NEVER do this hike again.

Yet even after all the pain, the hardship, the emotion, & misery this was one of my highlights of 2017.


I can do hard things.

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