Off to a rocky start when I realized my hiking boots didn’t make it into the car. Type two fun begins.#firstbigmistake
But, with new reluctantly-puchased Jasper-priced shoes in my bag (that I am determined not to wear unless absolutely necessary, so that I can ultimately return them) and with socks and sandals on my feet, we cheerfully said cheese at the trailhead and set off. Notice that it is not raining. Or snowing. Yet. Forecast be damned.
The hills were alive with the sound of music on day one! And dancing. There may have been some dancing. Mostly to evade the swarms of mosquitoes. We consciously decided against the mosquito suits pre-departure. Not everyone can pull of the bug-net hat look. It’s a fact. #secondbigmistake
There is no prize for emerging from the trail with bug repellent left over, so we arrive at camp one and douse ourselves in deet. Again. And again. And feel pretty good. So far, the socks and sandals seem to be doing the trick. I look forward to my shoe-return refund. I am so clever.
And then it starts to rain. And snow. For the next two days. So, a considerable amount of time post-hike each day is spent inside the walls of the tent. While my backpack sits outside in the deceiving shelter of the trees. In the low spot. Where a small lake has now formed. #thirdbigmistake
We slap on smiles and are grateful that the snow (and yes, it is July) stays out of the tent at least. There just isn’t any room for it what with all the rainwater accumulating inside.
Fewer photos are taken by day because my fingers are too cold to operate my camera. Because I forgot my gloves. Naturally. #bigmistake. I’ve stopped counting them.
But we are still smiling. On the inside. Oh, and I did have to give in to the lure of the new shoes. It only seemed, well, sane. And dry.
We ascend from the lake below, up, over, and through the notch, and feel pretty accomplished. Despite the lack of feeling in our fingers.
We power through the descent, leave every curve of the cruel, seemingly endless logging road finish in our wake, and emerge at the other end of the Skyline Trail. Soaked to the bone. And already planning next year’s trip.
Thank you, J-dubs for persevering and striking poses through rain and wind and snow and wet and blisters and mosquitoes and a leaky tent and all the wrong words to all the songs from Dirty Dancing. Thanks, AK, for keeping us laughing, for effectively rationing TP, for proving that running shoes are only mildly more appropriate than socks with sandals for this hike, for bringing the beloved jet boil, for being a genius with your socks-as-mittens brainchild, and for the lime green coordination of all of your gear. It did not go unnoticed.
Type two friends are the best.