A long walk

I find it funny that it takes me only moments to forget how painful a backpacking/camping/hiking/outdoorsy trip can be when I've climbed into the safety and comfort of our truck. Even though I have, like, JUST spent the previous two days in head-to-toe pain and agony wishing I were at home on my couch watching Dirty Jobs and eating popcorn out of my big polka dotted bowl.

These are the things I fantasize about while we're hiking many hot, sweaty, STEEP miles to and from our semi-remote wilderness campsite under the pretense of "getting away from it all." I guess we never sit down to define what "it all" really is, but if you were to ask me while I was transporting 40 heavy pounds of backpack from our truck to the middle of the woods via an unending maze of switchbacks I'd probably say that "it all" was my couch, iced tea, level walking surfaces and an environment not wholly comprised of mosquitoes. Because, really, that's what stands out.

It's only after the fact, when I'm prone, post-shower, on my couch admiring the many features of my remote control and TiVo, that I can appreciate the finer aspects of our adventures. You know, when I'm not tainted by blistered heels, bruised collarbone, itchy tumor-size lumps, filthy fingernails, irretrievably ponytailed hair and the phenomenon known as "camping colon".

You'll be happy to know that I've already successfully whitewashed last weekend's backpacking trip enough to regale you with photos and a few of declarations of triumph.

Declaration #1: We logged about 16 miles in two consecutive days. And I was only partially paralyzed the day afterward. Surprise, surprise! I didn't die of exhaustion as I (repeatedly) predicted.

Some photos:

Beautiful and patient butterfly
Nice little man sat still while I futzed with the camera
and took a bunch of out of focus shots before settling on this one.

Swarming ladybugs (the only acceptable swarm of insects I can imagine). Listen close for the buzzing of a million tiny lady wings and look at all the flickering bits -- those are ALL ladies!




A close up look at those shrubs from the video. So many ladies!



Welcome Wagon the Rattlesnake
waiting for us back at the truck

Sunrise at the campsite

A full creek for once in it's bone-dry life!

My swollen tootsies. This is the REAL 8 Mile, hoomies.

Declaration #2: I'm ready to go back and do it again! Almost. I mean, as soon as the blister on Big Toe heals. And the temperature drops below 100 degrees (What the F! This is Norcal!). And our nice friends forget how arduous this hike was.

See! Don't we look friendly? (And tired, I know.)