Change of Plans
As the first ration period came to a close, fatigue began to set in. Even though the map shows less then 15 miles from the start to where we were, our bodies and minds were worn down. Setting up camp was becoming easier. Cooking was not as scary as the first few days, and we felt that we were moving more efficiently.
The map said that we were close to making it out of the s'wack, and spirits were up. In the early afternoon we reached the first snow of the trip. All heartache from the first few days was forgotten as we had finally entered the mountains.
Sort of...
Turns out there was a few more miles to be covered before we reached the pass, but we didn't care. We were now graduates from Bushwhack Academy; Twist Creek certified. Continuing onward, we slid onto the snow slope, traversed scree and boulder fields, and went through the remaining alder where we rested on snow. We were tired, but excited.
It was not, however, all smiles. Over the previous couple of days one of our team members had an issue with one of her feet. Enough that the team helped take weight so it would be easier to travel. The decision was made to make camp down by the river and call it a day.
It was exactly what the doctor ordered: a good night's sleep, good food, and warm clothing. Life was good. Good. but not perfect. The student that was having foot problems had to be evacuated. An unseen mist fell over camp, thick and heavy, threatening to choke the group's momentum. One of the team was leaving. We still had time to say our goodbyes, but it still hit us hard.
There are no trails where we were, and certainly no roads. To get where we were required the gift of flight. A helicopter is the perfect vehicle for this, able to land and take off anywhere flat, and shuttle people and equipment where it needs to be.
As one might imagine, paying for the services of a helicopter is not cheap. The original plan was to climb the pass and have the helicopter drop food off at an agreed upon location. Climbing would be easy because we would have two days worth of food in our packs. Like any plan, it never survives first contact. Revised plan was for the second food ration to be flown in, then they would evacuate the student. Time was passed learning a few knots, and our first day of snow school.
After being taught how to use the ice ax for self-belay, we practiced self-arrest. Both are techniques that would keep us safe when we moved on the snow. The sun marched ever onward and soon left the sky hues of blue and gray. The unseen mist settled back over the camp. Before we knew, it we were watching our friend fly off, There was nothing left to do but press onward.
In Retrospect
It's warm inside, and gentle lighting sets the atmosphere as the flavors of the coffee slide across your palette. Home, this is home. You could travel to a different coffee shop, order the same thing, doctor it the same way, and yet it would not be the same. That's how it felt in the days after the student left. The group was ready to get out of that camp and climb the pass between us and the glaciers, but would have traded it all to keep the group together.
As Mandeep, our Indian guide often said: "It be that way sometimes."
First Game of the Season
The Life Giver, the Sun, marched in from the East. We dawned our heavy packs and moved with new energy. After a quick two hours, and a crash course in rope team travel, we topped the ridge to a snowfield that led us to the pass.
We had covered a lot of ground that day and ended up spending the night just above the snow ramp. We were scared, and on edge to be sure, but we were loving it. That day was 12 hours in the saddle but all went well. After choosing a camp site and probing the area for safety, we set about putting camp together for the night.
It was no longer a dream. After so many days in the weeds, to be here was incredible. Everything went so well the first day on the snow in rope teams. Hot cocoa fought with the cold as I stood looking out over the setting sun. I watched as the mountains turned into dark shadows, back lit with yellow, then red, then pink. Life was good. Next order of business: UP.
Z
Sunday, July 17, 2016
Tuesday, July 12, 2016
Waddington Trip Report; Part 1; Trail of Weeping Eyelets
So Far, So Good
I was amazed. For the most part everything thus far had gone according to plan. Getting to my flight was painless. Changing my bus ride because of airplane delays was just as simple. I had a good meal (my last one for a while), and had helped a fellow NOLS student out in the process.
Huh. Things never go this smoothly.
The 1st morning arrives, and there is a mad scramble to repack so we are ready for to roll when the van pulls up. There were a couple of trips going out on the same day, one to the Waddington Range, the other was a nine day backpacking trip along the coast. We got the usual welcome speech culminating in breakfast.
Next thing that I know, we are packed into a van and a pickup truck headed north. Two days later, we arrive at the campsite because the 'trail head' was still a few hours away. The first night in a tent, with three other people whom I had never met, went pretty well. The next morning, we were in the car bright and early to get to the REAL step one.
So far, so good.
From the Frying Pan...
The van and truck disappeared and it started to sink in that we are all in for what ever lies ahead. Our tent group was shown how to work the stove and pack our bags.
Packs on backs and off we go.
If it is true that a butterfly's wing beat can change things on the other side of the world, then that could be a plausible explanation as to how things moved so quickly. We were so eager, ready to move, stoked to be there, but... little did we know what was coming.
I decided right then and there that I would not give up. No matter what happened, I would not stop. It's a good thing I made that choice because right out of the gate we had a river crossing. Turns out that our boots - our $500 boots - weren't water proof. As the sun was setting in the distance, we found camp and had a moment where we were unsure exactly what we had gotten ourselves into...
With the night still young we crawled into our bags knowing that we would start the next day cold, and that we would hike the next few days with wet feet. Our socks were soaked. The boots had a leather and foam liner for "warmth" that acted as a big sponge for river water. The outside of the boots would dry, and water would seep out of the eyelets, It looked like the boots were crying.
...and Into the Fire
The next few days were Bushwhack Academy 101. Imagine weeds - TALL weeds - not trees, but not ground cover either. Just tall enough that you can't see over them. And thick enough that the dead fall beneath your feet can't be seen. That doesn't even begin to describe what lay all around us. In an eight hour day, we covered three, maybe four miles distance as the crow flies.
It was miserable, but we soldiered on.
It was slow progress, but the team didn't quit or give up. We crossed one more major river, finally getting to the correct side that would allow us to go up and over the pass between us and the mountains.
Reflection
Right off the bat the team dynamic was good. Ten plus hours in a van helped us mesh. After five days of bushwhack, we all knew that there was something about this group that would allow us to do great things. It was encouraging to know that the culture we would create was going to be strong and healthy. The perfect environment for learning. It would be hard, but we knew it was going to be worth it. And so we trudged on toward the mountains that had captivated us for so long.
Keeping You In the Loop
The Waddington Trip Reports are the final posts that started with the NOLS Dispatches. If you would like to read the entire story you will find the first dispatch under the January 2016 tab. If you enjoyed the story please post the url on your social media of choice so others may read my story.
Thanks,
K
I was amazed. For the most part everything thus far had gone according to plan. Getting to my flight was painless. Changing my bus ride because of airplane delays was just as simple. I had a good meal (my last one for a while), and had helped a fellow NOLS student out in the process.
Huh. Things never go this smoothly.
The 1st morning arrives, and there is a mad scramble to repack so we are ready for to roll when the van pulls up. There were a couple of trips going out on the same day, one to the Waddington Range, the other was a nine day backpacking trip along the coast. We got the usual welcome speech culminating in breakfast.
Next thing that I know, we are packed into a van and a pickup truck headed north. Two days later, we arrive at the campsite because the 'trail head' was still a few hours away. The first night in a tent, with three other people whom I had never met, went pretty well. The next morning, we were in the car bright and early to get to the REAL step one.
So far, so good.
From the Frying Pan...
The van and truck disappeared and it started to sink in that we are all in for what ever lies ahead. Our tent group was shown how to work the stove and pack our bags.
Packs on backs and off we go.
If it is true that a butterfly's wing beat can change things on the other side of the world, then that could be a plausible explanation as to how things moved so quickly. We were so eager, ready to move, stoked to be there, but... little did we know what was coming.
I decided right then and there that I would not give up. No matter what happened, I would not stop. It's a good thing I made that choice because right out of the gate we had a river crossing. Turns out that our boots - our $500 boots - weren't water proof. As the sun was setting in the distance, we found camp and had a moment where we were unsure exactly what we had gotten ourselves into...
With the night still young we crawled into our bags knowing that we would start the next day cold, and that we would hike the next few days with wet feet. Our socks were soaked. The boots had a leather and foam liner for "warmth" that acted as a big sponge for river water. The outside of the boots would dry, and water would seep out of the eyelets, It looked like the boots were crying.
...and Into the Fire
The next few days were Bushwhack Academy 101. Imagine weeds - TALL weeds - not trees, but not ground cover either. Just tall enough that you can't see over them. And thick enough that the dead fall beneath your feet can't be seen. That doesn't even begin to describe what lay all around us. In an eight hour day, we covered three, maybe four miles distance as the crow flies.
It was miserable, but we soldiered on.
It was slow progress, but the team didn't quit or give up. We crossed one more major river, finally getting to the correct side that would allow us to go up and over the pass between us and the mountains.
Reflection
Right off the bat the team dynamic was good. Ten plus hours in a van helped us mesh. After five days of bushwhack, we all knew that there was something about this group that would allow us to do great things. It was encouraging to know that the culture we would create was going to be strong and healthy. The perfect environment for learning. It would be hard, but we knew it was going to be worth it. And so we trudged on toward the mountains that had captivated us for so long.
Keeping You In the Loop
The Waddington Trip Reports are the final posts that started with the NOLS Dispatches. If you would like to read the entire story you will find the first dispatch under the January 2016 tab. If you enjoyed the story please post the url on your social media of choice so others may read my story.
Thanks,
K
Sunday, July 10, 2016
NOLS Update
Hello friends,
Can not wait to share my experiences with you it's been a great month and will break the trip report in to a handful of posts.
K
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