From the moment I first heard of
the Sophomore Backpacking Trip, I looked at it with much trepidation. How could I hike so far?, I wondered.
How could I wear such a heavy backpack?
How could I learn to live in the woods? Although I had enjoyed a several
short hikes around Portland during the summer, and was looking forward to some
nice hiking, I canÕt honestly say I was tremendously excited for the trip.
Thursday of my sophomore
backpacking trip I was, indeed, pretty miserable. The air was hot and I was
sweating heavily. The path, devoid of shady trees to keep the sun from beating
down, went steeply uphill. Each step took more from what already felt like
empty energy stores. As I struggled to put one foot in front of the other, I
imagined a conversation with my parents when I returned home, a return that
seemed so far away then. How was the trip?, theyÕd ask me. A little better than
miserable, IÕd tell them. I
remained the caboose for most of day, as I had expected and feared before the
trip, and at a few had to stop almost literally every few yards.
It
was Friday morning, however, that made the whole trip worth it – worth
ThursdayÕs misery, worth sleeping uncomfortably. . . . This is part of the trip
I will hold closest to me, the epitome of what I wanted my experience to
be. The weather Friday was cool,
and the path this time was downhill and shaded. I hadnÕt really thought about
being pacesetter the day before, but felt so glad our trip leader had asked me
to do that job, because had she not, I donÕt think my experience would have
been nearly as incredible. Exhilarated, I charged down the path with
determination, tightly gripping my hiking poles and feeling like I could
continue on forever. I soaked up the beauty of the woods as soft snow fell on
my face, enjoying the quiet of the woods or feeling happy inside hearing a
fellow trekkerÕs singing. That day, I got to simply enjoy the path ahead of me,
wondering what would come at the next turn, instead of looking at, or more
probably, desperately trying to catch up to the backpack in front of me. When we stopped to rest for a moment,
classmates greeted me with high-fives, and ÒYouÕre a champion!Ó I was filled
with euphoria as I thought to myself, ÒThis is the essence of the sophomore
backpacking trip!Ó
As
the day wore on, though, the weather became rainy. My feet slowly got soaking
wet and I was not looking forward to
another night in a Kiva, the floorless tents we used. The rain wasnÕt supposed
let up that night, and I wasnÕt the only one with some wet stuff, so, stopped
by a stream, our group decided that at least some of us would go home that
night. When we reached what would
have been our campsite that night, more than seven miles from where we had
started that morning, we all decided to head home, which meant we had to hike
another couple of miles or so to the trailhead. Despite my feet being wet and
tired, I really enjoyed those last two miles, they were truly magical. The sun was close to setting, and moss
covered the trees. If there were fairies, I thought to myself, this is where theyÕd live.
When
we arrived at the trailhead, with great delight I eyed what now seemed like a
luxury. ItÕs just a hole in the ground, my trip leader, who used it first, had
told me. But a real seat? A real seat. Never had I appreciated a simple toilet
seat so much.
The ride home, so tired I felt delirious, I laughed as my seatmates tried to learn cuss words in Korean and Chinese.