But nobody could go with me. Did I really want to do this alone? Winter backpacking means a LOT of time in your tent (unless you like hiking in the dark) and though I enjoy my alone time, I do have my limits.
At around noon on Sunday I suddenly decided, "screw it, I'm going." I threw my stuff together and headed out. I had been researching Talapus Lake and knew the 3.5 miles of road walk to the parking lot would be easy. From there I could decide if I wanted to camp in the parking lot like I did at Kelcema Lake or try to push on the to the lake, which is another 1.7 miles.
There were just a few cars at 3:30 on the side of the road where you have to park (almost immediately after you get off of I-90 because the forest road is closed in winter) which was a relief because there is not a ton of room and I had read it could get busy. I also read you didn't necessarily need snowshoes, so I tried to see how far I could comfortably go without them, which lasted all of about one minute. That lasted all of about 15 minutes, until the road became mostly snow free, so they came off again. That lasted about a mile, then back on with the snowshoes. This was putting me in a bit of sour mood because taking snowshoes off and on is annoying as hell in my book.Is there video of me peeing somewhere? ;) |
And they were...VERY gone by morning. I expected some snow, but holy shit, it looked like close to a foot! (And yes, it was a LONG night. In my tent at 5:30 pm. Ugh.) Good thing I downloaded that map. But wait...wow it REALLY drained my battery. Good thing I brought a battery pack...and no cord. UGH!! Why even bother going to the lake when I can't even take a picture!
1%?!? Take a picture, quick! |
That's sad, I know. It's not about the picture. Life actually happens regardless of whether you have proof. Life might happen even more genuinely without that damn phone, right? And wow, what a day to experience life. So, I left my dead phone in the tent and promised myself I'd turn around as soon as I didn't feel confident I was following the trail.
"This is easy! This trail is obvious!" I thought to myself as I went further and further in. "Maybe not to your average hiker, but clearly all my time in the woods has heightened my ability to read the trail," I told myself as I gave myself some serious mental back patting. After what felt like a couple miles, I got to a sign that warned hikers not to cut switchbacks. "I must be close...looks like a clearing ahead where a lake might be!"
And just like that, I had no idea where the trail was. I kept going anyway. I couldn't get this close without seeing the lake! But then I remembered my promise. I had to turn around.
But wait. I saw some other person's snowshoe prints coming up over there! Someone must have been camped at the lake, and I just missed them when I got off trial. I got out my paper map, and yes, it did seem like the elevation goes down to the lake. Cool, I just need to follow these and I'm golden.
I almost turned around a couple of times, because I didn't like how far down I was going; but then I'd see something that looked like a clearing. The tease of the lake being "just ahead" kept me moving. When no lake would appear, I'd get out my map again. Did this person come from a different trail? But there were none. What's it going to hurt to keep following a bit further.
When I saw an opening ahead with a bathroom, I knew I was finally there. But still no lake--just a large clearing. And the person's tent is still here! Weird. My mind whizzed around trying to make sense of it. "They must have hiked in really late. Wow, what a bad ass! No wonder they are still asleep. But maybe they aren't okay. Maybe they are dead! Oh, don't be dramatic...but I really should make sure, huh?"
I approached the nearly snow buried tent hesitantly and was just about to call out to the mystery person inside when it hit me like a bullet. This is my tent.
The sensation that came over me is hard to fully convey, but the first thing I did was laugh my ass off. How in the world did I not realize I was following my own prints? (In my defense, everything looked so different! And the trip back felt SO much shorter!) But besides feeling unbelievably stupid, I felt utterly amazed that this mystery bad ass was actually me. Looking at that tent (it was seriously almost buried because of melting tree snow falling on it while I was gone) and realizing I was the one who slept there made me feel a new appreciation for myself; even with my dingbat-ness. Such a strange roller coaster of emotions, going from confused to stunned to relieved to embarrassed to proud. It felt like a real mind fuck to be honest. (The scene where Harry realizes it was actually him and not his father who fought off the dementors came to mind for those of you who are Harry Potter nerds like me.)
Before going to bed...notice the rock in both pictures |
Last picture in the morning before my phone died |
Needless to say, I was super stoked I didn't have to turn around and go back. Can you imagine if I had actually done that! And I nearly did! But let me tell you for certain, a second time around and I would NOT have been laughing. But thankfully all I had to do was pack up and make my lone tracks back down to my car in the beautiful, powdery, virgin snow. And though I do wish I had more pictures, they wouldn't have made this trip any more of a crazy, wonderful, and slightly fucked up experience. Though I will be sure to bring a camera when I go back this summer to finally see that damn lake! I bet when I pass that "no cutting switchbacks" sign I'll still have another mile to go, ha ha. Until then, happy "always be able to laugh at yourself" trails! (P.S. The first picture of the lake isn't mine, but I couldn't let you know I didn't make it to the lake and wreck the story ;))
Glad I could get my car out, and charge my phone ;) |
I've always known you are a bad ass!
ReplyDeleteIt is always good to be able to laff at ourselves. good story. glad it turned out the way it did. I could have had a very different outcome.
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