Bits and Pieces

There's going to be a preseason hockey game in Boise for the first time in many years. There was supposed to be one a few years ago, but that was the 2014-2015 season, aka the lockout shortened season. That game never got played. But I thought, just maybe, we could get tickets and go see NHL players, even if the big names probably wouldn't take the ice. 

However, I was not the only person in Boise with this idea. Tickets sold out so fast, I never even got past the waiting room before they were gone. I guess I'll just have to travel if I want to see an NHL game. Maybe someday I'll get to see one of Boise's "local" teams (at least according to regional sports networks), like Seattle, Colorado or Las Vegas. 

I've been playing the game Dead Cells a lot lately. It's a roguelike game, which means that if you die, you start all over. The game doesn't take that long to complete, even with my style of "must kill everything" which takes longer. It's got an interesting, new-to-me, system of difficulty. Essentially, you can't really finish the game until you play it on the hardest (of 6) levels. 

For a while, I thought I wouldn't ever make it past the 3rd level (called 2 boss stem cell), but then I did. And then I wanted to complete a puzzle that required taking a specific route through the game and finding hidden areas in specific dungeons. I got through that, and now I'm thinking, well, maybe I can beat the final boss with 3 boss stem cells activated. 

But the last time I tried, on what was otherwise a very good run, I just couldn't get the final boss. Yeah, I'll probably keep playing the game until it leaves Xbox Game Pass. 

When this blog goes live, I'll be out in the wilderness. If the trip goes to plan, I should be at the Moose Creek Air Strip, or getting real close. As I write this, I'm so looking forward to being out there. I've got a headache from letting things at work stress me out a bit too much. I need to do some hiring and there's an awful project I'm involved in because I'm the only one with the expertise to get it done. Or that's how it feels. 

Being out in the woods should let me re-center myself. To remember that nothing at my work is actually life and death. To remember that I am not my work. 

Songing Along

Last weekend, I went on a backpacking trip to do trail work with the Idaho Trails Association. During that trip, I came up with two little song-y things. One of them was inspired by another of the women on the trip, and the other just came into my head as we were working. And on the last night, I did share my bear song, though my voice totally cracked on it. I need to practice it a lot more so I can be performance ready. 

So the first one came about from the words "lopping and chopping" swimming through my head. They made such a nice rhythm and fit right into an old song, 'Wishin' and Hopin'' by Dusty Springfield. Now, I didn't remember exactly how that song went, but I fit a few things into the shape that I remembered and ended up with: 

We're loppin' and choppin' and brushin' and treadin' 

And sawin' and after we're through

The trail is clear

You know you've got to saw with technique

Let the blade do most of the work

You know there's just no need to use much force

You will get through

Working in a rhythm

Drawin' and a pullin'

Because we're diggin' and gradin' and cuttin' and drainin' 

And limbin' and after we're through

The trail is clear

I might work that one into fitting more of the actual lyrics and song, rather than just what I remembered out there. Especially if I can come up with some more tool/task specific things like with the saw. After I shared that little snippet, one of the other women said I should come up with something matching the 7 dwarves song, "Heigh Ho". After a little noodling and hiking, I came up with just a snip: 

Heigh ho heigh ho

WOW ITA we go

To clear some trails

And take no males

Heigh ho heigh ho heigh ho heigh ho

That one I may or may not return to. I might not have even shared it on the trail, but that little bit made me laugh so hard I had to share. (Note: WOW ITA is sung "wow eye-tee-ay" for this song, and stands for Women's Only Weekend, Idaho Trails Association.)

Passing It On

Last weekend, I took someone backpacking. It wasn't their first trip, but the actual first one was not the best experience, and put them off of backpacking a bit. This wasn't the first time that I'd gone backpacking with someone other than my husband, but it was the first time that I was taking someone out for a good "first" experience. 

I took them to the same place that Ambrose took me for my first backpacking trip, Skillern Hot Springs outside of Fairfield, ID. It has a lot of advantages for a first trip. The hike out is short, but includes some challenges, like stream crossings and climbs. The trail is open to motorcycles, so it is very well maintained, especially between the parking lot and the hot springs. Oh yes, did I mention the hot springs? 

The trip was great. I've definitely changed that person's idea of what a backpacking trip can be. I learned that I can lead a trip without Ambrose to back me up or advise me. And I got to enjoy a hot spring that holds a special place in my own backpacking history. 

I was nervous about going on this trip way back when I first suggested doing it back in May or April. I'm fine backpacking with Ambrose, and I adjusted to hiking with other backpackers and even their dogs. I don't have any issues backpacking by myself. But taking someone else, someone who had only backpacked once before and had a negative experience... That was a bit of pressure. 

On the one hand, I felt confident that this trip was the right "first" trip for this person. On the other hand, maybe the exigencies of the first trip weren't the only reason it wasn't a good experience. Backpacking isn't for everyone, after all. 

As luck would have it, I've been extremely busy at work. I'm not only lacking in boredom, I'm actively busy for the majority of the day due to a software implementation. And that means that I had absolutely no spare energy left for worrying about the trip. I didn't worry about whether I could actually lead a newbie out on a trip and make it a good one. I didn't worry about anything. 

When the time came to actually go on the trip, I just experienced it. I didn't compare it to a worried expectation. I was myself, and I experienced. 

While I'm not sure I could take someone out for a first trip if I didn't consider them a friend, I know now that I can take a friend out. And I know just how rewarding it can be to introduce someone to backpacking in a positive way. 

Radical Acceptance

 When you're out in the wilderness, there is no air conditioning. No heating either. 

Well, I guess you could say there's both. At night, the temperature does tend to drop. And during the day, it gets warmer. But you have no control over the temperature, and no way to change it. Sure, you can try to stay in the shade for a minor adjustment, but if you're following a trail, there's not always shade to be had. I actually find it easiest to hike when it's just a little bit colder than comfortable, because the work of hiking warms me up. But when it's hot out, that works against me. 

I have to figure out what I can do to adapt. At night, that's the tent and the down quilt and long underwear. During the hiking day, it's get up hella early to hike in the coolest weather possible, and, when it's hot, to simply persevere. Stay hydrated, wet my hat at every opportunity, but it comes down to adapting to hiking in the heat, you just have to accept that you are hot, and you will continue to be hot. 

I'm not talking about ignoring the signs of hyperthermia. But you can be a long way from medically overheating and still be just unbearably hot. Especially when you're on a ridgeline, carrying a pack with over 20% of your bodyweight in it, and the sun is directly overhead, beating into your skull and reflecting off of the ground and right into your face no matter how wide your hat brim is. 

It's not comfortable. It's not super fun. The views, and other things, compensate for this. I certainly wouldn't sign up for a hot, loaded hike with no rewards. That's one way to help yourself through that kind of unfun, by focusing on the good things. 

Another way is to really lean into accepting what's going on. You get a distinct line between things that are in your control and things that are not out in the wilderness. You take care of your gear and it takes care of you. You watch your step and where your steps are leading you. You adapt as best you can to the temperature and the weather. You accept that you can't control the weather, the temperature, the bugs, the condition of the trail, other people you may encounter, animals you may encounter, where the trail climbs or descends, how many times water crosses the trail... 

Knowing what you can and can't do and accepting it allows you to find a different kind of focus. In the time of COVID, I've been experiencing so much anxiety. I've written about it already, and I'll keep writing about it, because I don't want constant anxiety to become normalized. I want to radically accept that I cannot control a whole lot of things going on in the world around me. And look closely at the things that remain. The things that I might be able to change. 

If I'm willing to try. 

Walking and Writing

On my last backpacking trip, I made a conscious effort to write every day. I feel like I've been slacking in the note taking department on my backpacking trips, the ones that I take with other people at least. I don't have problems writing on my solo trips. 

I succeeded in writing every single day on that trip. It wasn't even that difficult. It was like falling back into a comfortable habit. I liked writing down our times for starting and stopping for the day, and just recording things that I might want to remember later. Like seeing a bat at one of our campsites, or reminding myself that I wanted to look up the etymology of bat. 

Although I used to bring a notebook for writing, I now bring loose sheets of unlined 8.5 x 11 paper, which I fold into quarters. I treat each quarter like its own page, with its own orientation. I use a ballpoint pen, carried in the same gallon baggie that holds the maps I write on. Usually a black one, for whatever reason I rarely take blue ink. 

On my next trip, I'll be solo, so I shouldn't have any trouble getting my writing done. I'm excited to be going on this trip, and also excited about writing the book about the trip. The whole process of writing, putting together pictures, and publishing the book lets me relive the whole thing well into the fall and early winter. It's one of the things that keeps me sane in the off season. 

The only problem I foresee is that I typically write on the back of the ICT maps on my solo trips. Trouble is, I also typically travel from south to north. This year, I'll be travelling from north to south. That means that I'll be starting on an ICT map that overlaps with a future hike, and ending on one that I've already started. Worst case, I run out of room. I guess I could go ahead and print out a new copy for the future hike, and use the whole thing this year. 

I'll be happy if the worst issue I have on this hike is running out of room to write on the ICT maps. After all, I'll be carrying more maps, and they're paper too. Sure, they're the topo maps, but we don't ever use the back :)

Floating Free of Anxiety

 I recently took an eight day, seven night backpacking trip with my husband. Eight whole days without internet access, cell phone, work, and, for the most part, other people. 

When we first started hiking, I felt an unfamiliar fear and anxiety attempt to attach itself to something out here. I'm comfortable being out in the Idaho wilderness on the trails by now. I don't usually look around for something to worry about; out there, there's enough that's real to think about without making things up. But this time, it was like I kept grasping for something to be scared of. 

I actually considered not going on my solo trip, because I was afraid that I wasn't ready or wasn't fit enough to do what I planned to do. I had to keep talking to myself about the difference between this year's trip and last year's. Last year, I planned on the aggressive schedule of 20 miles per day on average, which works well enough in the Owyhee desert, but not so well on mountain trails that haven't been getting the kind of maintenance that would make them easy. This year, with respect for both the large elevation changes of my trail and the disrepair of several sections of it, I planned to average 14 miles per day over 7 days - with the first day being only 8. 

It wasn't until the 3rd or 4th day that I was able to let go of that anxiety and start to feel comfortable about the upcoming solo. By the time I finished the trip, I was feeling ready for the solo, but not ready to go back to the electronic world. I even avoided turning on my phone for several hours after I got back home, and I left it in airplane mode for days and didn't open social media. Although I did play games and catch up on some of my favorite websites. 

I just wanted to keep avoiding the world as much as I could. I wanted vacation to last forever, and to forget about the world for as long as possible. 

And while vacation can't last forever, I can at least try and maintain that connection to the side of myself that the wilderness brings out. The side that knows she can hike the hike, and doesn't much care what anyone else thinks. 

Weekend Unplugged and Lightly Scheduled

Over the Memorial Day weekend, my husband and I usually do a car camping trip, but this year we did a backpacking trip. Since we knew we wouldn't be able to get far into the Wilderness at this time of the season, the idea was to hike a short distance out and, essentially, do a car camping like trip except that we're backpacking in.

I've been keeping up with 4 runs a week for several weeks now, and I didn't want to lose that streak for a backpacking trip. So I organized myself around that goal. I did my fourth run of the week on Friday instead of waiting for Saturday, since we were travelling on Saturday. And I decided to do trail runs while backpacking, which meant packing extra clothing and shoes and preparing, mentally, for a tough and limited run.

To get a good start on the week's runs, I planned to run Sunday and Monday. Those were the only things that I really had scheduled for that weekend. I've been recording all my runs on the Map My Run app through my phone, but I did not want to bother with my phone out in the wilderness. I don't have a very protective case, and if I break it I will need to buy a new one. So I left the phone in the car and made some guesses after the fact on my run distance (I did time both runs with my watch).

I know I could have brought my phone and recorded my runs that way if I really wanted to. I could probably have managed not to break it. But it was good for me to be unplugged. No games, no apps, no phone to pull my attention away from the awesome natural surroundings. I did bring my kindle this time. Even though it is electronic equipment, on a trip like this when I'd have a lot of time to read, it was much more efficient to bring the many books in my kindle than one or two paper books that I would have ripped through in a day or two.

Since the stay at home orders, I've been seeking refuge in structure. I needed to hold onto a schedule of my own in order to keep going. But it's hard to keep that up. As the end of May approached, I needed a change. Backpacking has its own structures (for me anyway), but they're different than the ones at home. Being outside and unplugged for a weekend was an important refresher for my brain. I'm looking forward to more backpacking this summer, even as the trips get more structured. But I'm rather dreading the fall, when we may be facing more waves of virus, more stay at home orders and I won't be able to get outside - but I can still unplug and look for other ways to destress.

Write on Time

I finished up my first draft of this year's solo book right on time over the weekend. My husband is taking on the duty of first reader and going over it for typos and places that could use some extra attention, whether that attention be the machete or some polishing.

I'm happy with what I wrote, and I'm also happy to have gotten to relive some of those moments from over the summer. The ending of the trip wasn't what I'd planned, but there were so many incredible moments. I had a chance to hang out with rafters from across the country. I pushed myself hard on a difficult trail. I hiked through rain and camped alone in a thunderstorm.

And next year I'm going to do it all again! Well, sort of. While the original plan was to hike all the way through to the Magruder Corridor, I discovered when we drove out there that there aren't really services out there. Once I got off the trail, we'd have a four hour drive down to a real road, then another half hour or so to a tiny city. But, if I started hiking from the Magruder Corridor, then I could come out at Big Creek and get myself another $8 shower within an hour of leaving the trail.

Plus, there's a part of the trail where the elevation changes about 5000 feet in about 4 miles. Northbound, I would be climbing that. Southbound, I would be descending. Now, I like climbing and all, but that's a lot. And the trail is no longer maintained. So I'd rather hit it on the downhill when I'm fresh than on the uphill at the end of my journey. Especially since I'd need to haul water up with me.

So next year I'll be doing a southbound segment from the Magruder Corridor to Big Creek. That will get me to about 420 miles of the Idaho Centennial Trail completed; nearly halfway.

But for the rest of this week, and pretty much until I'm done with publishing, I've got to focus on the other part of the solo book. The pictures! And the formatting. And the cover. And the back cover copy. And all the other little joyful minutiae of self publishing. I actually do like these parts, but they can be fiddly. Especially considering I typically only do it once a year so I need to remind myself how to do things.

Book Focus Time!

I didn't start writing my solo book until late September this year, and I wish that I had gotten started sooner and could be finished now. Unfortunately, I can't go back in time and change this, so I'm just going to set myself some word goals and strive to hit 500 to 1000 words a day on weekdays and 2000 a day on weekends. That should allow me to finish by the end of November at the latest and then get the book formatted and ready for release in time for Christmas, as usual.

I think I was reluctant to start this one because a part of me was so disappointed in not finishing what I set out to accomplish. But I did make progress on my goal of finishing the Idaho Centennial Trail. Every step is another step closer to Upper Priest Lake Falls. I made some mistakes in my training and preparation last summer that I won't soon repeat.

The experience was incredible, and I learned a lot. Can I really ask more out of an 87 mile hike through the wilderness?

My husband helped me work through an introductory section that will hopefully be a good hook for readers. And I'm trying to think more in terms of hooks in each section of the book as well, so the goal is to have this book be the best written one yet. With every book, I learn more with the practice of writing it. Hard to believe I have eight of these things already, and plans for several more as I continue on the ICT.

Progress Is Progress

I wanted to be done with my Queens River Loop guide book by June 4th. I guess whether I succeeded or not depends on the definition of the word done. The writing is complete. All the pictures have been captioned and placed into the template document. The cover has been designed. The files were submitted for review and accepted.

I could have been done by June 4th, but I decided to order a proof copy instead. This is only the second guide book that I've done and I want to make sure it looks good and has minimal typos before I release it into the world. So it's done. Mostly. There's just the final review to complete (and any little fixes to implement).

I feel accomplished.

Not only that, but I finished drafting out my solo trip book. I'm still working on transcribing my handwritten notes, and I might add to the draft if I discover that I forgot something vital, but the bulk of the work is done faster than I thought possible.

While I had been thinking to combine the write up of this trip with the write up of the segment I'm going to complete later in the season that will bring me as close as possible to the Frank Church wilderness, now I'm leaning the other way. Rather than one huge book, why not make one medium and one small? They will be on totally different segments of the ICT. Hiked in different months. Written in different months. 

And if I do a Hike with Me book for our July trip to the Washington Coast, then I could be releasing three Hike with Me books in one year. I kind of like that idea. 

Queens River Guide Progress

There has been progress on my writing of a Queens River Loop guide book, but not as much as there could be. I've been sick - again! - and there have been some other stresses going on as well. But writing is fun, and I'm working on getting my butt into the writing chair.

I'm going to start the 100 words a day minimum challenge again that got me through the last guide book. It is such a low bar that it's easy to surpass it on days when I'm feeling good and easy to reach on days when I just want to collapse into bed instead of writing anymore.

Plus, I need to start spending a little more time on preparing for my solo hike. The plan is to go at the end of April/beginning of May, but that isn't going to happen unless temperatures start warming up around here. Most of this year's segment will be in the desert, and I don't anticipate any issues with access, but the last 20 or so miles (of 70-ish) will be getting up over 7000 feet and is currently under snow according to the forest service. Plus creek crossings are running high.

My husband and I will be doing a scouting trip later in the month to see if the conditions warrant pushing the trip back. This is a tricky little segment to time.

But even with looking up information on the trail and reviewing the maps and my supplies, I should be able to carve out 100 words per day on the guide until I finish it up. We don't have a Queens River trip scheduled this year, but maybe we can get out for a wham-bam long weekend somewhere in the summer or early fall. Once I get the guide up, I want to keep it up to date.

Written Word

I haven't been getting my butt in the writing chair over the last week or so. Ambrose and I did go on a short backpacking trip last weekend, so I have a partial excuse, but that's not really enough. I want to finish my solo write up by the end of the month and have the book for sale before I visit family in October. Though I won't likely have finished copies to give them at the visit.

I know once I finish the write up, the photo part can be accomplished in a weekend's steady work. Formatting the book and getting the layout right for print is not a hard part for me. I enjoy creating the photos and captions and making it all come together. It's simple work, repetitive, steady. When a mistake is made, it is simple, if not always fast or easy, to correct.

The writing part is different. I don't have a template. I don't have as much structure to dictate what I should or shouldn't be doing. I look at the photos I took as I write, but they don't provide the narrative. They can't convey the harshness of the wind, how cold it was and how it sometimes drove particles of sand into my face or blew so hard that I had trouble walking forward. Even the video I took of the wind whipping my tent doesn't tell as much of the story as my words must bear.

I have to find the story, create it and frame it without knowing exactly what its shape should be before I start. I know what I want to do - I want to share my adventure. And I want to share how these adventures have changed me and how I approach life. Hiking alone grows self reliance. It makes me more confident and sure of myself. It proves to me that I have the ability to do more than I realize.

And, if I write my book right, it will give others a taste of those results, and encourage others to strive and try to do things that they never would have thought possible.

On the Road

When this blog posts, I hope to be about two fifths of the way through my solo trip for the year.

The sun would have risen by the 8:15 posting time. I'll be already an hour or so on the trail if everything goes according to plan.

And I'll be heading to the rendezvous with my husband at the halfway point of the journey. Maybe I'll make 10 miles by 10 am, a feat often desired by long distance thru hikers.

Or maybe it will take me a little longer.

I hope to wash my hair when I meet up with him, because I tend to get headaches if I go for more than three or four days without washing my hair. Leaving the shampoo with my husband and the resupply allows me to save a little weight.

I spent Saturday finalizing my packing. I had been working on it in a piecemeal sort of way that I'm pretty sure drove my husband to distraction in the last couple weeks, but Saturday is when it all came together. I checked everything on my list and weighed the pack.

On Sunday begins the drive. On Monday begins the hike. Today will mark the halfway point.

Prioritization

In just over a month, I'm going to be hiking over 100 miles of the Idaho Centennial Trail from Nevada border. The Owyhee Desert.

And so, while I want to make sure that I use what I've learned from the depth workshop going forward, I am putting less priority on writing than I am on preparing physically and mentally for the challenge of the early season desert hike. It's been a snowy winter, and a wet spring, so I have hope that there might be decent water supplies. But the truth is I'm likely to encounter less water than would be ideal.

I'm increasing the amount of running I'm doing to try and prepare my legs. This weekend will be the start of hiking conditioning where I'll seek out trails if it's dry and go for the incline treadmill at the gym - with boots and pack - if it's wet.

Writing is still important for me, but it's not a high priority at the moment. I'll be keeping up with my blog entries and there's two stories I really want to finish along with three more from the workshop that I really ought to start. Plus there's the nonfiction project of writing up a kind of guidebook for the Chamberlain Basin Trail and there's also work to do putting some works into wider distribution.

There's plenty to do. And I know I need to set goals if I want to get it done. But I'm not setting any strict ones until after this solo trip - and, of course, after the solo trip I'll have a write up to do. I am thinking about another fiction writing challenge for the summer, along the same lines as last year, but more words. I could start May 8. Go for 750 words a day on home days and 250 words on backpacking days. Fiction words - I won't count the work on the solo trip.

But for now, it's all about conditioning, training, mentally preparing for a dry, desert hike with little water access. Planning the meals, planning the meet ups with my husband. Getting the maps I need and figuring out the places I would want to camp. Solving the puzzle of my journey.

Written Draft Complete

The first draft is complete! And I've reviewed some of Ambrose's suggestions. I write 'some,' because after I addressed them, he went back to read the whole thing again, so I'll have one more set of them to work through.

In the meantime, I'm working on selecting the photos that I'll include in the book, and, if he's still working on it after I've selected, then I'll work on captions as well. I've started work on the cover, but I can't get very far on that until I choose the cover photos.

I wish I could use photos of the beautiful lakes I hiked by on day 3, but that day was particularly smoky. I will include some of them in the book, but they aren't clean enough to use for the cover image. I definitely want a nice mountain shot for the front cover, preferably one that shows a nice "Sawtooth" type mountain.

For the back cover, I'm thinking of a shot with water. Perhaps Fern Falls, but the time of day that I passed those meant that those shots weren't lit the way I'd prefer. If I were going to photograph them, I'd want to be there in the late afternoon, with the sun shining on the water and not into my camera lens.

There were more blurry shots than I realized this time. The pressure of hiking long distances in a tight time frame made me a little more careless with the shutter. I sometimes re-took a blurry shot, but more often I didn't - I'm sure it was a good idea at the time, but I do regret being so hasty now.

Well, I do forgive myself for the haste. I remember the pain in my feet. Even in good boots, they got swollen and sore and complained. And they were just the loudest among the complainers of my body. I pushed myself hard on that trip.

I did get a lot of good pictures. It's not going to be easy to winnow them down for the book. I know I can at least eliminate all the blurry ones, but that won't be enough of a bar. I took over 1000 photos! Only one way to do it - I better get to work.

A Reasonable Pace

Before the Thanksgiving break, I was concerned about whether I would finish writing the first draft of my solo trip before the new year. But as I relaxed into the writing, I found that the words came without much prompting, and I feel that I may well finish within the next two weeks - still cutting it close to get a book published before January, but I could get it done.

I think the main reason that it's easy to write about my trip is that it makes me happy. The trip was hard. Hard on my body and hard on my mind. But the memories make me smile, even the memories of the pain and the difficulties. And especially the memories of the incredible views, the solitude of nature and the animals I spotted in passing (no bears!).

Creating these books started as a project to share the trail with my mom, and the rest of my family, who probably don't understand this whole backpacking thing any better than I did before I started it. It seems a little silly to travel with your legs over the course of days what you could travel in a car in an hour or so. But there are no cars allowed where I like to travel, and the world looks different when you travel 1 to 3 miles per hour instead of 30 to 70.

I appreciate the conveniences in my apartment so much more after I've been deprived of hot, running water, toilets, refrigeration, chairs and beds. And as I sit in my apartment, typing up the adventure of that trip, I appreciate what I purchase with the lack of conveniences.

I purchase confidence, accomplishment, breathtaking views, new experiences, challenges and summits, and the feeling of surmounting those.

It's an exchange I'll take. Sometimes I even think about taking it further, haring off to live somewhere less convenient, where the winters bring feet of snow and the summers mean hard work. Maybe someday. For now, I'll remember my summer experiences during the winters. I'll plan my next year's journeys. And I'll keep writing.

Trying to Ramp up

I've been very low energy the last week or so. It's hard to get to the writing desk and work on the various projects that I have going. I'm keeping up with work, school, exercise and the 30 day diet challenge that I'm halfway through.

I'm not keeping up with the writing of my solo trip as much as I want to, but after having so many weeks sick in September and October I'm a little more confident that once I'm past this slump I'll be able to get the work done that I want to get done. And there won't be any classes over the week of Thanksgiving, so as long as there's not too much homework, I should be able to get some serious writing done while I'm off work for the holiday.

I'm not as far into the writing of the solo trip as I wanted to be at the beginning of November, but I believe I can catch up and still get the book out at my customary time of December/January. I'm trying to write captions as I go, when they occur to me, saved on the photos themselves in the metadata (my husband's idea). That should help speed up the process once I'm ready to start putting words and photos together into the master file. I also did a lot of work on the look of the cover last year that I'm not going to try and change this year.

The writing itself isn't difficult. In fact, when I get my butt in the seat and settle into writing, it goes surprisingly quickly. I'm trying to be more conscious of the trip as a personal journey and not just a series of places and things. I came up with various theme statements for each day and I'm keeping them in mind as I write, considering how they relate and which ones relate best. I'm also trying to be less stringent in how I tell the story; chronological order is great, but I'm not going to be wed to it if I see a way that a different order would better serve the tale.

Reviewing the pictures as I go along brings me back to the steps of that journey, the smells of the woods, the tastes of the energy bars, the sounds of water flowing and birds tweeting. I remember the bruise on my back from the metal bench at Willow Creek Campground and the bruises on my shins from an ill-advised, missed box jump a few days before the trip began. The pictures themselves become windows to the wider view in my memory.

I just have to focus on how nice it is to think about that trip and then maybe I'll get my butt in the chair a little more frequently.

Recovery

While I was on the trail last week, taking five days to cover over seventy miles on the Idaho Centennial Trail, I never felt very tired. Most days, I hiked between eleven and twelve hours. (The last day was a mere eight.) And, because my body hurt a lot by the end of the day, I ended up sleeping less than eight hours every night. I mean, I went to bed on time, even early, but I never fell asleep before nine, woke up every night in the middle of the night and was up for at least thirty minutes before going back to sleep and waking up before six.

And yet, I would get up. I would get my butt on the trail and start hiking. My energy never felt particularly low; I was sore in my body, but not tired. It was a strange way to feel.

I think now that I was somehow holding all my tiredness at bay. I was able to convince my body that it only needed to go a few days with less than ideal sleep and constant motion during the day.

And now that I've stopped moving. Now that I'm sleeping in a bed next to my husband at night and working at a desk all day.

I find myself exhausted.

Perhaps, I need some recovery.

Writing and Hiking

Ambrose is still working his way through my longer story. I guess I can forgive him, because he's helped me prepare for my solo trip instead of reading. And he did get started on it. But I really want to know his opinion.

I'm writing to entertain myself, but I'm also writing to entertain him. He's my first reader, and I trust his opinion. If he told me that I shouldn't publish something, then I wouldn't. If he tells me that I should, then it's going to go up, no matter how nervous I feel about it or what I think of the work.

I'm not creating as much work as I wanted to with my current challenge, but I am constantly creating. I'm writing way more than I would have without the challenge. Even though I spent a lot of time preparing for my solo trip in the couple weeks, I always made time for the fiction goal. Actually, I had to curb my fiction writing in order to make time for the solo prep.

When this posts, I'll be on that solo trip. The third day. The plan is that I'll be starting my shortest day of 11 miles toward Benedict Lake.

As I write this, I still feel nervous about the trip. It's hard to believe that I'm undertaking such a long trip on my own. When I've told co-workers about it, I've gotten reactions that vary from admiration to confusion.

But the central question is, why would you do that?

And I think that I do it to answer that question. The solo hike is the question, and undertaking it is the only way to find the answer.

What's Playing in Your Head?

On my last hiking trip I asked my husband if he has a soundtrack in his head while he hikes. See, I tend to repeat a song in my head, over and over, while I'm hiking. I adapt it to the beat of my steps. I repeat only the lyrics I know or make up my own or listen to an instrumental version. If I'm actively thinking, talking to myself silently, then the music quiets, sometimes. But as soon as my train of thought stops, the music is there again. 

I did consider that this might be a natural thing, something that happens to everyone, but I know that I can be a bit strange. So I asked my husband, who can also be strange, but usually in different ways. 

Apparently, this is not one of the strangenesses that we share. 

And so I shared with him, throughout that trip, the music playing on repeat in my head. I keep meaning to write down all the songs that pop through my head when I'm hiking, but I never get around to it, and I usually forget them by the time I'm home. Talking about them to my husband has helped me retain a smattering. 

One of the songs I tend to get when I'm near the beginning of a trip is "Run" by Collective Soul, because it has a line about having a long way to run. And that tries to slip into "Ways to Go" by Grouplove, because I like that song, but I can never remember the tune while I'm on the trail and it fades out. 

When I was hiking up the start of the Blackmare No Trail, I had "Frosty the Snowman" on. I don't know why. There wasn't any snow in sight. That transitioned, naturally, to "O Canada." (I do watch a lot of hockey.) That took me through to the next ridge, where, on the descent, I had an elevator music version of "The Girl from Ipanema" going, perhaps as a result of the cautious steps I had to take going down the steep, unkept trail. 

And even when we weren't hiking, I still had songs running through my head on repeat. Sunday morning started with a persistent rendition of "Heartbreak Beat" by The Psychedelic Furs, which only went away when it was replaced by the "Main Theme from Star Trek: Voyager." (My husband wanted to hear how that one went and I gave him a humming rendition that he quite enjoyed. But I suspect he only asked to hear it because he didn't believe that I was listening to it in my head.)

On the way back to the car the next day, and I know this was because of the clouds of mosquitoes that I was hiking through (I think I inhaled one), I got Jimmy Buffet's "Margaritaville" going and replaced the words to part of it: "Eaten alive again in mosquitoville/ wishing I had more repellent on me/ some people say that there's a woman to blame/ well, they're right/ only females bite" 

Mosquitoville doesn't quite scan, but it got me through the hike pretty well, interspersed with "Little April Shower" from Bambi. 

And no. It wasn't raining. But I may have been drip drip dropping sweat...