Lessons from the backcountry.
I wasn’t sure how this week was going to play out.
I entered our week of vacation exhausted. Depleted. Weary, worn out, bone-tired, and fatigued. I found myself, when I’d stop to take notice, breathlessly moving from moment to moment, from task to task. The feeling of rushing to keep up a constant source of “encouragement” pushing me ever forward.
I have felt that questionable, self-imposed encouragement my entire life, without ever really stopping to wonder if that was the most effective way to cheer myself on.
Jordy reserved three nights at our favorite campground, and obtained a permit to backpack for three nights in Desolation Wilderness. He did all the menu planning and grocery shopping. He unearthed our long-ago used backpacking gear, made sure it was still worthy of a trip, and packed it all up into his cleaned-out car. He made us breakfast and watered the garden before we left, then did all the driving to our first destination in the High Sierras. I rode in the passenger seat and knit.
I had had a chat with myself earlier in the week. It sounded like this: “Listen. He is doing ALL the work for this trip. He’s planned it and shopped for it and packed it. I don’t care HOW tired you are, you are going to have a good time, and you are NOT going to complain about a thing.” I agreed with myself. “yes…that sounds like a good idea.” It wasn’t until day three out in the woods, with the wind and the sky, the trees and the many cold lakes, when I realized I hadn’t had to force myself to enjoy the days, or force myself not to complain. We were having a great time together, and were refilling all sorts of energy stores that had been lacking attention and affection. I told him about my chat with myself and thanked him for all the work he had put into our trip.
In the retelling of my personal “pep talk,” I realized that instead of berating myself, sternly ordering myself to shape up and have a good time, I could have said something like this: “Listen sweetheart, I know you’re tired. I know you’ve been going and going without much time to recharge. I know you believe you have so much to do at home that maybe you should take this week off to organize yourself instead, but you deserve this vacation. Jordy’s been doing all the hard work and all you need to do is be there. So try to get ahead of yourself: if you’re feeling pushed to do something you don’t have the energy for, accept it and say it kindly to him. Trust that he’ll understand. You’re a team. Now go, eat a snack. You’re doing great.”
Ah ha! Speaking kindly to myself. Showing myself empathy and compassion. Understanding where I’m coming from, and what exactly I actually have the energy to do.
That was one wonderful lesson of our trip. The other:
Have what you need, and use what you have.
I was so burnt out before our trip, I did not even pack a first aid kit. One of our assignments at herb school was to organize an herbal first aid kit. One would think that would be an easy thing for me to grab. It was not. I thought about plenty of things I would like to have for camping and backpacking. What I ended up gathering in the minutes before departure was a facial oil I’d made for time in the sun (rosehip, marula, seabuckthorn, and echinacea-infused jojoba oils, with carrot seed and helichrysum essential oils), a few bandaids, gauze pads with a tiny pair of scissors, a jar of tea. And my tweezers. Because whiskers run rampant these days….
So. When we ran into needs, we had to just do with what we had. Thankfully, we didn’t run into anything serious. I would have liked to have had some cinnamon along in case either of us cut ourselves and needed the coagulating properties to help stop the bleeding. Or to flavor our oatmeal. Whichever seemed most necessary. I didn’t pack that, and no one bled.
The four-hour car ride, 7,000-foot elevation gain, not drinking enough water, and campground food made me wish for my bitters tincture. Constipation is a real challenge of travel, and bitters usually helps mitigate the problem. Without my tincture, I needed to be creative. Chomping on celery and especially its leaves turned out to offer a great amount of the bitter flavor. And our herbal tea blend (chamomile, tulsi, damiana) made a sweet, mood-lifting bedtime tea. If left to steep long enough, the bitter properties came out to aid digestion and encourage the downward motion I was missing. We decided to name it Wanderers’ Delight in gratitude for the comfort of a cup of delicious tea and the digestion/elimination aid it offers in the realm of pit toilets and campground realities.
As we started the backpacking part of the week, we knew staying hydrated would be important. Luckily, our UV-light steripen still worked. For day one. Then it just…stopped. So we put faith in the filtration of rushing water over granite rock, or boiling the lake water, hoping our gas cans would last long enough to purify enough water for our dehydrated dinners, instant oatmeal breakfasts, and, most importantly, Laird’s Superfood Lattes, the only instant coffee we hoard and will drink even when other options are available. Our gas lasted, nature’s filtration seemed to have worked, and thanks to some grey sea salt and the Tea Drops my mom shared with me, we had some electrolytes to add to our lake water in the form of peppermint and spiced hibiscus teas. Like the Kool-Aid and Tang from my childhood camping trips, sometimes flavored water is a necessity.
And the final focus of the “I didn’t pack a first aid kit, what will we use” part of our trip: sun. Sun, sun, sun, and wind exposure! The wind was blessing us with the AC experience needed on those blue sky, hot mountain days. Without that soft wind blowing, I don’t think we could have made it as joyfully as we did. But the wind and sun dried me out! My skin has definitely leathered, much like the jerky that never left the bear can. I dreamt of coming home to vigorous salt scrubs and herbal steams just to soften myself up again. What I used while hiking was that little bottle of facial oil that I’ll now call High Sierras Remedy Oil. It helped from head to toe. The skin on my thighs chafed from hiking with semi-rough shorts. And where the shorts weren’t rubbing, the sun and wind irritated. I developed a slight, itchy rash on my thighs, and by day four, my neck, face, and arms felt similarly dried out and sad. I slathered on that orange oil under my many applications of sunscreen and was grateful that if my first aid kit was non-existent, my toiletries included something that helped to rescue my skin.
After over a decade without backpacking, I have rediscovered the joy of carrying everything on my back like a turtle. The simplicity of having just so much, and figuring out how to take care of my needs with just what I have, refreshed my spirit more than I knew I needed. I hope to carry this attitude of gratitude and self-reliance through the easy days of showers, running water, and soft beds.
I made a promise to myself years and years ago: always jump into cold, mountain waters. The rejuvenating bite of cold, fresh water awakens my spirit every time. Even when the wind is blowing, JUMP IN! I vow now to remind myself of the strength and appreciation I felt this past week by dousing myself in cold water at the end of showers. Keep me honest– when you see me, ask if I’m still “cold-plunging” and tell me your tricks for staying alert and alive to the joys and blessings of our every day lives.
And by the way, shall we DO SOMETHING?! I’ve been watching snippets of the Democratic National Convention, and if there’s a time to politicize this space, it is now. OH MY WORD! So much inspiration and so much hope. I will keep you updated as I plan to organize a gathering to write postcards together. Check this out and see what you think. “Decency and respect are on the ballot in 2024.” Let’s bring it home, friends.
