I am a planner.
I prepare.
I excel at creating strategies and problem solving.
As I wrote about in small things adding up, I spent the last three months training and preparing to hike the Trans Catalina Trail. It was our longest backpack to date and the first that involved a juggle fest of logistics with planes, boats, permits, and more. Definitively not a jump in the car and go situation.
I was as ready as I could be.
I had studied the maps, the GPS, the weather, and I could tell you about the stats for each leg of the journey.
The first full day was the longest and steep from the minute we packed up the tent. We started early. We started strong.
It was hot. Far hotter than the numbers in the weather forecast. We knew this trail was exposed without shade for essentially the entire week. We had plenty of sun protection and a hydration plan.
Then the unforeseen happened.
This is why it was so shocking and humbling to me that shortly after the halfway point of the day I found myself struggling with heat frustration and tumbled straight into heat exhaustion.
If you’ve never experienced heat related distress, I can tell you it is a slippery slope into scary and miserable territory. Once it happens there is no antidote other than rest, hydration, and cooling down. None of these were available to me at that point (at least in any meaningful way).
Humbled. Scared. Vulnerable.
I am not the type of person to just lay on the ground defeated and yet I did that very often over several miles.
I knew I had to get from where I was to the first night’s campground. There were no other options. I certainly was not going to curl up with a cactus and wait for a rattlesnake or bison to come sniff my sorry self.
It was scary. A potent reminder of how insignificant we are in the circle of life. Important? Yes. Insignificant? Absolutely.
(An important distinction here is that we do matter – to others and to ourselves… At the macro level? We are flecks of dust in the cosmos.)
I threw my best mindset and endurance tools at the situation:
Let me try walking for 10 minutes at a time instead of the usual 20 minutes between water breaks.
Maybe I can try 100 steps.
Or 30.
Perhaps 10.
Ok I will take three steps, throw my pack off and sit on the ground again.
And on it went for several hours.
Event one step forward is progress.
Being the first day, both our packs were at their heaviest carrying five days of food. What we did not have enough of was water. I cannot emphasize how ironic this is.
I carry water everywhere. Even room to room in my own house! Short errand? I have a liter ready. It is almost laughable.
We made the mistake of taking someone’s advice (who had done this trail before) – to carry a liter each. Fill at the reservoir (only water stop in this section) and replenish at camp. That should be plenty. (Those words would come to haunt us.)
It was not nearly enough for us in these conditions and our hydration plan needed more complex electrolytes (beyond our base salts). We choked down our midday lunch just barely as the nausea was kicking in at that point. We had snacks but it wasn’t enough.
Trust the trail
Hikers know that trail magic and trail angels are not just the stuff of legend. It is real.
While I was sitting on the side of the trail debating for the thousandth time what to try next, three strong hikers came up the trail and stopped to talk to us. Keep in mind that we saw only one pair of hikers the entire day at that point.
They took one look at me and said – you do not look so great. How can we help?
If ever there was a lesson in dropping all resistance to receiving help gratefully and gracefully, this was it.
My heroes took the heaviest items from my pack. (They had to have taken over 10 pounds worth of weight.) They poured water over my head. They gave me some extra water. They encouraged me. Perhaps just as importantly they gave my wife a much-needed boost of confidence that we would make it to camp.
I was so grateful. Blown away thankful.
But not feeling much better.
Even one step forward is progress.
At this point my partner really earns the wife of the year award. I could put one foot in front of the other much easier without any pack even though my pack was lighter now. So, she would walk forward a bit. Leave her pack. Come back and take my pack while escorting me a few more paces forward.
The trail was still ascending at this point… in fact the entire 41 miles we hiked (the trail is officially 38.5 miles…but more on that in a future article) was either straight up or straight down with a few brief flat(ish) ridge walks in the blazing sun.
At a certain point we decided to split up. She would hike to camp. Drop her pack, fill up on water and return to get me and my pack. This is always a tough decision because you do not want to leave someone alone on the trail when there is illness or injury. However, rule #1 is do not become a second patient so off she went. It was under a mile to camp at this point.
I sat. I walked. I had a staring contest with a beautiful Catalina fox. The trail leveled out and that went a long way toward me being able to keep walking. By the time she returned with a gallon of water I had traveled almost half the distance to camp.
Accepting help and dealing with what is
When she got to camp without me the three trail angels jumped up from their campsite to help her out. When I arrived, they did the same.
Two other groups helped us get set up and shared encouraging words to help us focus on recovery for the days ahead.
It helped to know that I was not the only person guzzling down a gallon of water and electrolytes with dinner as everyone was stunned by the heat and difficulty. My pounding headache and I hit the pillow at 7pm and crashed.
Thankfully good sleep, nutrition, and hydration resulted in feeling much better and trail-ready(ish) the next morning. The start was, as would be the theme, uphill from the get-go.
The entire trip was mind-blowing, and this was just the start…but what a start full of powerful lessons it was.
Stay tuned. more trip adventures and musings are coming soon. I am still catching up on sleep!
Paula! OMG! I saved this to read when I could fully concentrate and I'm glad I did. For the few minutes it took me, I felt some semblance of the emotions you went through. Thank goodness you and Kim are so knowledgeable about hiking and thank goodness for the trail angels. I look forward to hearing more of your saga. Congratulations to both of you on your hiking achievements!