My First Backpacking Trip

I have big dreams of being a backpacker.  BIG DREAMS!

I dream of taking a sabbatical from work and hiking the Appalachian Trail.  I have spent hours researching exotic places like Thailand and Peru.  I envision Pack and I climbing up the Continental Divide and looking over the country in awe.  I dream of becoming one with nature in the most intimate way.  I picture myself loving life in “survival mode.”  

In theory, I would be an excellent backpacker.  I have a pack.  I have a sleeping bag and tent.  I have strong thighs.  And, I want it.  I want it bad.

Then....I went on my first backpacking trip.

Not only was I exhausted by the unbelievable amount of work it takes to carry 35 extra pounds on your back, but the maps lied about the mileage - and not in my favor.  Are maps allowed to lie?  Dang you National Park Service!!!  

Oh, and when you learn that water isn’t available, they aren’t lying about that. 

I’m the girl that drank (filtered) water from a mud puddle.

By the end of day one, I was exhausted and my fun limit had been hit.  I was excited to crawl into my tent, but sleeping under the stars isn’t as relaxing as it seems.  Nature had re-confirmed how much silence is important to my sleep.  Nature is really loud.  No, I’m not talking about the unfriendly rattlesnake I met along the trail.  I’m talking about mate-less birds who won’t shut up.  (Are you mate-less for a reason, bird???)  I’m talking about wind.  I’m talking about beautiful streams.  I’m talking about the imaginary animals you make yourself believe are roaming around outside your tent.  

Yes, I love nature, but I also love sleep.  And I can’t sleep when it’s loud.  

I also can’t sleep when it’s light outside.  After you have spent a whole day hiking with your belongings on your back, you go to bed around 7pm.  The sun, however, did not get the memo that I was exhausted and needed a restful night of sleep.  

By day 3, I mentally and physically beat by the 30+ miles of trail.  Then, the universe wanted to test me further.  Mother Nature opened up the sky, and rained on me.  Then it rained more.  It rained so much that my rain gear could not longer repel the thick drops.  My expensive, “rain repellant” clothing completely soiled my clothes and underwear.

And do you know what happens when you are soaking wet and continue to hike?  Yep, you get rashes all over your body from your clothes and your pack rubbing against you in the most private places.  It’s not pretty.  Two weeks later....it still isn’t pretty.  And now, I permanently smell like topical cream.

Looking back, I am thrilled that I survived the backpacking trip.  I feel like I accomplished something.  I also learned that backpacking might not be for me.  And that’s ok.  Just like I learned that winter mountaineering might not be for me when I climbed Mount Washington, there is a possibility that backpacking isn’t for me either.  

Maybe I’m more of a car camper and a day hiker.  

And, maybe I’m ok with this discovery!