Day 10

Red’s Meadow to Deer Creek

It was really hard to get out of the bunk. My plan was to be up at 6 and leave at 7AM. I didn’t get out of bed until 7. Then I took my time to pack, which meant I didn’t get out of my cabin until 8:30.

I think reality or what I’m doing was setting in.

I listened to Brian and Jennifer Johnson – only Jesus on repeat a few times to get motivated and headed out.

Ran right into Brett from last night at the backpackers camp. Brett is from Nevada and has done two summits of Rainer with RMI. He is planning on doing one of Denali and needs to do Expedition training before. We swapped contact info for when he comes to Seattle if we wanted to meet up.

I really loved my time at Red’s Meadow. It was like an unexpected treat to be able to shower, so laundry and eat salad and fruits. If I had to pick, I think Laundry was the biggest moral booster. My pink shirt after being not washed for eight days was stiff and almost starched to stand up on its own. My socks were crunchy and although I was rinsing out my underwear every night… it just didn’t feel clean. The shower could have been approximated by baby wipes and the food was easy to get… but having newly laundered clothes? Amazing.

This time out here gives me so much compassion for the homeless in Seattle. I am doing this by choice but many of them can’t afford housing. I wonder if it’s possible to get a generator, put a washer and dryer in a van, get a Costco stock of baby wipes and drive around offering to do laundry for the homeless. That way they can feel clean and a restart. While they wait for the cycles to complete maybe have someone who could give them a hair cut and feed them?

As I was hiking out, I was noticing the beautiful lupins (I think that’s what they were) everywhere. It looked like a fire had gone through the meadow at some point, there were a lot of downed and partial trees. As I was trying to get a perfect Instagram story format of walking through the lupins, my inReach rang. I pulled out the device to see a message from Nick. Nick’s message let me know that he decided to leave the trail. Combination blisters and missing his family too much. Not sure why but that messed with me for a bit. I think it was the difficulty of leaving Red’s Meadow, thinking how easily that could be me or the general heat of the day already … not sure but I felt myself get sad.

I’m working on my second week alone in the wilderness.

To be fair it’s hard to be “alone” here. You see people on the trail periodically and sketchy spots like water crossings people are always willing to look out for one another. It just feels alone when I don’t know anyone still on the trail from my start date.

I’m not sure if it was the thought about quitting or if I was running on adrenaline to get out of Red’s but I became aware of my heel pain again, my head felt a little achy and my pack felt exceptionally heavy. I had over 6 days of food crammed in there and each step I could feel each ounce.

When I’m feeling low, I put on music to help calm my heart and distract my mind. So, I put on Highlands by Hillsong and kept singing it to myself.

“Oh how I would climb mountains, if the mountains were where You hide. Oh how I would scale the valleys if You graced the other side.”

That’s pretty much what I’m doing out here. I’m looking to spend time with God. That helped the morale. I started to think about all of the times that I was down and God gave me strength to continue.

I kept the song on repeat until I reached Crater Creek. There, I decided to make myself lunch and air out my feet.

I’m learning I really enjoy hiking solo. If I’m not feeling well or need a break. I take one. If my body feels like it wants to take a nap. I take one. There isn’t anyone to disappoint or hold up.

At Crater Creek, I laid out my tent footprint (it is an optional protective sheet that goes under your tent that I use as a sit pad when it’s not under my tent) and stretched out on it.

I set my alarm in case I spent too much time there, and I’m glad I did, because between the warm sun and the sound of a rushing creek… I fell asleep.

I woke up 15 minutes later feeling refreshed, my previous aches and pains seemed to have been forgotten. I took notice of several welts from mosquitos that took advantage and packed up and continued hiking.

I started to inventory the benefits of hiking solo.

It’s easier to find camp sites.

I don’t have to worry about talking going up hill and sounding like I am fighting for my life while trying to maintain conversation.

I see more wildlife, since not talking I don’t shoo them away before I see them.

It’s easy to make new friends when people see that you are solo.

I can take random naps when I need them.

Cons.

No one takes photos of you doing epic things.

It gets hard to motivate myself to push up a pass and I inherently feel lazy when going up hill.

There isn’t anyone to laugh with when you see or do stupid things.

It’s nice to know someone knows you and would recognise you if you needed help.

I general I think I’d do this again alone.

We will see after Bear Creek, Evolution Creek and Muir Pass. Those three big obstacles remain. In a lot of ways segments 1-3 are the reward… segment 4 (82 miles with 16,000 feet elevation) is going to make me work for it. I’m a tiny bit nervous, but I’m not there yet, so there isn’t any need to worry yet.

I got some water before going to my camp site and noticed my pack was left open. Doing a quick inventory I realised I had lost a flip flop and sunscreen. I decided to get to camp, set my pack down, get out my bear canister and backtrack to see if I could find my lost items.

A mile later I got to camp and turned around for about a mile. No flip flop. I was surprised how fast I was moving, but realised not having 40 lbs weighing me down meant I could move a lot more naturally.

Giving up that I was only going to have a flop to my flip-flops, I got to camp and hoped someone would at least pick up the items and throw them away, rather than let them languish as trash on the trail. I set up my tent on a rock slab and watched the sunset from my sleeping pad and went to bed.