Day One - June 28th
(Pachena Bay Trail Head)
No one dare tell me what to wear, how to pack a back pack, how to adjust it. Why didn't I ask? Because I am a wilderness warrior and should know those things!
My last real smile of the week. Victoria, four a.m., we depart luxury in pursuit of muck, pain and deprivation.
Our glorious moment of bravado at Pachena Bay Trailhead, one for all and all for one!
And then away we go for a wilderness triumph. It is lightly drizzling after a week of hard rain.
In her excitement Verity finds it hard to contain herself so bolts off and away like a shot!
Felicity lags behind to get that last picture of her supremely confident father marching into the forest for a good humbling.
Some referred to that week before as a monsoon. We saw the survivors as we set off. Ending the long trek from the other end, the Jordan River end, a file of zombie hikers stumbled by us, glazed eyes, mechanically lifting one foot after the other, plodding through the last day of their journey from hell. The trail was a disaster. I was unprepared, over confident, over dressed, ready for a fall.
When passing the marker for Km 2 I was tired, sweating, breathing heavily and, for all that effort, fully expecting to see Km 4. It deflated me. Would I survive this seventh level hell? But the girls were strong.It would be hours later, all a rather blurry memory to me now, that the girls decided I needed to make changes if I was to survive. I would need to share some of my pack, rebalance the rest, reduce my ridiculous absorbent cotton clothing and reset my ego.
Hours later again, nearing dark, we march into Michigan Creek. I had survived but barely. The girls were right to worry that the old goat might falter.
Pitch the tent, take off our sodden and sorry boots, and eat. Then sweet deep sleep.
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