Into the Wild.

2 Oct

This has been sitting in my drafts for a while. Pretend it’s still like 3 weeks ago:

We got back from the wilderness a little while ago (um like 36 hours ago) and I’m still recovering from like 3+ hours of hilly hiking in and out of redwood forests. My legs hurt from hiking, my shoulders and back hurt from carrying a too-heavy pack, and my butt hurts from sitting on a log for too many hands of rummy. Everything else hurt from sleeping on the hard ground. My hips and knees and ribs stick out far enough that it was a problem. Sleeping on my stomach was my best option until my arms got squished and I even woke up on my back and I NEVER sleep that way.

We didn’t have the crazy bonding sleepover secret sharing of my dreams, but we had fun and I learned how to use the guns and I only thought Marshall might be dead once. We only saw one unidentified animal (it was dark), no bears or mountain lions. A lot of unidentified poops on the trail though: a bunch of deer poops and two that were bigger than Lady’s and pretty fresh.

We brought a water purification system, but wound up being able to drink straight from the creek we set up camp right next to. Today I felt really sick for a little bit, but I think it was hangover related and not from the gross creek water. The water was actually very clean and clear and under control crisp and all the other c-words you want water to be. Cold was a big one. We crossed the creek to hike up the other side and had to take our shoes and socks off to make it over. We left them on for the trip back when we decided that’s where we were staying.

The hikes were bad for me – I’m getting over a cold and had a lot of mucus in my sinus cavity and chest, plus I’m not used to that sort of thing – but the drive in and out was THE WORST. We were on old highway 1, what used to be the highway before they built some bridge in the 1930s. It’s one lane wide and not paved. I drive a 1994 Chrysler LHS and luxury sedans were not made for such things. I don’t like driving/being in cars in general, and I especially panic on winding mountain roads. So let’s take my grandpa-mobile on the gnarliest, most windingest road imaginable. It took us over half an hour to go 10 miles on that road.


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