10 Things I Learned While On a Group Backpacking Expedition
This summer I participated in a 7 day expedition for advanced high fitness backpackers.
You can go here https://andrewskurka.com/guided-trips/ to read about the Andrew Skurka guided trips.
I’ve found it extremely challenging to talk and write about this experience.
It’s hard to put into words the amazing challenges, vulnerability, and personal growth I experienced from spending 7 days with myself, 8 “strangers”, and Mother Nature.
Savoring the last night taking in the sunset over a waterfall.
The average age in my group was 30 with a few outliers – one of the guides was 42, another participant was 44, and I am, well at 61, old enough to be everyone’s mother.
I’m on the far left end
We covered over 60 miles of stunning, beautiful, daunting, and sometimes terrifying (for me) back country in Sequoia Kings Canyon in late July.
It’s likely we were the first people hiking through much of this area for summer 2023.
I’ve never backpacked in conditions quite as extreme due to an unprecedented winter season in the Sierra – ginormous amounts of water, snow covering everything, avalanche debris blocking access, maneuvering through suncups, meadows that were lakes, lake outlets that lacked room so spread out in numerous rushing creeks and waterfalls, lakes that were still 100% frozen at the end of July. It was crazy!
Lions lake is below us and completely frozen over requiring us to stay uphill and traverse above it walking sideways on sun cupped snow
Eddy line crossing of Roaring River – that’s me at the end.
Hiking through a “meadow” that is a shallow lake – that’s me at the end.
Moving “through” avalanche debris
So here are 10 Things I Learned…
1. Take the Time to Make More Conscious Choices. There is nothing like “type 2 fun” (click for definition) with its extreme physical and mental challenges as an opportunity for raising awareness and making conscious choices. Each step on this kind of backpacking terrain needs to be considered. Now my practice “off the mat” is to keep considering conscious choice for what might be considered the most mundane daily choices.
Side stepping carefully and painstakingly down a rocky slope after crossing a freezing river at 6am earlier in the morning
2. Use the Right Tool for the Right Job. When packing for a 7 day backpack trip each ounce carried is a crucial decision because ounces equal pounds. My goal was to be under 24 pounds. My crampons weigh 22 oz. and my microspikes weigh 12 oz. I struggled with the decision to carry that extra 10 ounces, but I’m sure glad I had those crampons! They were the right tool for the right job over and over again.
That’s me leading the climb and kicking in foot holds with my heavy and beloved crampons on my feet!
3. Tough Love For The Win! Every night our guide, Andrew, came to each of our tents for a personal check in. On day 2 I had been fairly sick with a headache and nausea. That night I told Andrew I was concerned I was old and holding the group back. He was extremely clear that in no way was I holding the group back, explained what holding the group back would look like, and assured me I was demonstrating the skill and fitness to be doing exactly what these 30 year old young men were doing.
On night 3, after falling treacherously in a late afternoon river crossing, I began to once again tell Andrew my fears of being old, holding the group back, blah, blah, blah… He quickly whapped the brim of my ball cap and said, “Are we going to do this again?”
My response was a quick “Nope” and I shut the hell up, got into my tent and began to pray to be relieved of self. Enough focus on yourself – not being enough, not being fast enough, being old, worrying about slowing the group down…. just get on with it girl, trust your guide, trust yourself, and stop letting the critical parent voice run the show in you head!
So grateful for the tough love.
Andrew in the red jacket after visiting my tent night 2 and reassuring me
4. The Inner Dialogue For Me was Complex and Took Place on Various Levels – while moving mile after mile through varying terrain, at camp with my great team, or at night in my own tent.
Sometimes that dialogue was critical, sometimes it was encouraging, and sometimes it was just pure exhaustion speaking to me. Sometimes the inner dialogue wasn’t silent and I spoke out loud to myself in order to coach myself through something I thought I couldn’t do.
As I was willing to share my vulnerability with others through words, actions, and accepting support, new perspectives and understandings occurred for me. Most importantly is that vulnerability is not a weakness and is quite beautiful. After the trip our guide ,Andrew, shared with me that by modeling vulnerability the group was able to better bond and be willing to share their own vulnerabilities.
Here I am using “hands and feet”, which is called a class 3 move. I am afraid of class 3 moves and 15 minutes prior to this I was sitting in a small heap crying because I was so scared. Inner dialogue was “I’m going to die”. Process was to share my fear with one of the guides and then get up and put my big girl pants on and trust I could do the hard work.
5. Wet Feet Do Not Have To Be A Problem when Backpacking.
Hiking in conditions where it’s impossible to keep your feet dry is absolutely fine if you do the right thing to take care of your feet. Our feet were constantly wet in our shoes for days on end. We never took our shoes off for water crossings, we hiked miles and miles in snow, and when we were on trail there was often water flowing right down the middle of that trail. Every morning I put on slightly wet socks. So… Take multiple daily breaks and get your shoes off quickly. Dry off your feet during these breaks. At camp dry off feet, put on dry socks, put feet into water proof bread bags, and then insert feet back into shoes without the inserts. Bedtime foot care for me was manual mobility work, foot balm, dry socks, and shoes and socks “drying” in the tent vestibule.
After climbing two passes, mostly snow covered, we sat at the top of Triple Divide (over 12,000 feet) and ate lunch while drying out our feet. I’m at the end of the row. Buffs are being used to protect our faces from intense sun exposure.
6. Don’t Look a Gift Horse in the Mouth. One of the gifts I received from this group trip was the ability to stop saying “I’m sorry” for simply being human and to start saying “yes, please” and “thank you” on a regular basis when help, support, or kindness was offered. There were always offers of support during creek crossings, hands to help pull me up onto something tall or slippery, verbal check ins, offers to fill my water bottle, hugs given if I was afraid or accomplished something remarkable, or help getting the fuel hooked up to my stove.
There was no reason for me to make an excuse or decide I wasn’t worthy and say “no” or “I’m sorry” to these acts of kindness. They were freely given and there was nothing patronizing about them.
Here is my group making sure I am going to be fine as I enter yet another creek crossing! One of the younger heavier group members always asked if I’d like them to go before and after me. YES, PLEASE!
7. There is a Connection Between Inner Dialogue and Capacity for Self-Regulation. I found this to be true and relevant in the group process.While I shared my vulnerability, sometimes spontaneously through tears, I also kept much of my inner thought process/dialogue to myself. I trusted that I had the capacity to truly “hold” that inner dialogue with curiosity and compassion. Thus, I was an interdependent member of the group so that everyone could get their needs met. I believe I found a true capacity to self regulate while being beautifully authentic and transparent. Yep, I just said I was BEAUTIFULLY transparent – I am owning that shit!
On the last night we were watching the sun set and spontaneously hooked our arms around one another. An interdependent group being beautifully transparent.
8. Mobility Is Key! While my partners during off trail hiking had the benefit of youth, testosterone, greater muscle power, and more endurance I won the blue ribbon for joint mobility!
My capacity to squat to the ground, to move from a squat, to crab walk, to crawl, to lunge deeply and stand up from that, to fall and roll (yep that happened), to bend my wrists and elbows for weight bearing and pulling was what made this off trail hiking possible for me.
My mobility was duly noted by my group over and over again. I am not sure how many times a 32 year old main in my group said “I wish I had your mobility”. He was especially flabbergasted as he followed me down a rocky scree filled ravine where I stayed low and moved from one rock to the next without ever really needing to stand up. I am so grateful for all the years of varied movement that has allowed me to stay this mobile.
Me squatting before heading down this slope like a little crab.
9. I CAN.
I now know, really know in my heart of hearts, that I can do pretty much anything I set my mind to.
I CAN Wake up at 5:00 am, pack up, and cross a freezing cold river by 6:00am. That’s me in the blue jacket up to my waist.
I CAN set up my own tent and sleep alone without Jim or Vida.
I CAN navigate, route find, lead, and conquer off trail passes – even in the snow.
I CAN be part of a group that quickly becomes family in a matter of days and trust that they see and accept me just the way I am.
I CAN Take this new found confidence and skill into new adventures like navigating this slot between a huge wall of snow and the side of a granite peak on a backpack with Jim in September.
I CAN make a decision that the slot is not going to work for me and try something else in order to get to the top of Granite Bear Pass!
10. I learned what it was to be completely cracked open by an experience that allowed me to be so intimately with myself.
I learned to respond, to deal with and enjoy conquering the physical and mental challenge, to feel the sense of self esteem and accomplishment of facing fears and real dangers, to appreciate the feedback and satisfaction of succeeding, and the joy of taking care of myself while also being part of a group.
I think the window opened and I chose to look through and really see and accept myself.
I am aware in a very visceral way that my life at 61 is so precious because truly my days here are limited and I understand that in a way that wasn’t even possible at 50.
The question that is burning bright is what do I want with the rest of my days here on earth?
I’m open to the layered answer of that poignant question, but I do know that I want the minutes of each day to be filled with the things I love and the people I cherish, including myself.
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