Respect the 13.1

A funny thing happened recently. Okay, maybe not haha funny. Or maybe not really funny at all, maybe more of an anomaly. I had not been running as much as I like to in the warmer summer months and then I signed up to run a trail half marathon. Rather my guy & I signed up to run a half marathon. We had tossed this idea around for a while but didn’t commit until maybe six weeks before the race.

Having done five halves over the past three or four years this wasn’t a super intimidating thing for me. Still, I’d prefer to be physically and mentally ready for a challenge of that magnitude. I said as much a few times leading up to race weekend but my schedule was just crazy. Three weeks before the race I was up to around 20 miles a week but then the next two weeks got extra crazy; I was only able to get four runs in…over two weeks. I know tapering before a big race is part of a lot of training plans but that only works when you actually have a training plan.

My guy was preparing for the half even less than I was. In the past he’s been able to go out and do some pretty tough races without batting an eye even though he doesn’t run regularly. A lot of the time he has more energy and speed than I do even when I am running often. It’s super annoying!!!

We’ve done lots of basic 5ks, some 10ks, a couple “doublers” or 15ks including a brutal trail 15. Earlier this year we had a back to back races with an easy 5k on Saturday and a not so easy 5 mile trail race early Sunday. He still killed the 5 mile trail run; I struggled a bit. (Like I said, it’s super annoying.)

A half marathon is different though; 13.1 miles feels like a lot more than even a 15k. I mean, it is. More than just 4 miles, 13.1 is a different level of mental challenge and stamina. It requires at least a little preparation!

But life is…life and preparation did not happen. The exact opposite of preparation happened. (Negative preparation? Reverse preparation? De-preparation? Idk. One of those.)

The day before the early August trail half marathon my guy had a golf tournament for work. No big deal. Except that he was out in the sun all day, drank more than is smart the day before a long race in the hot sun, and probably didn’t eat very well either. See, negative preparation!

Saturday morning come 6 A.M we were trying to get out the door for the race and he was not feeling so hot. Using all my previous experience and half marathon knowledge I told him to eat a decent breakfast and hydrate like hell on the way to the race. Oh, and to let me set the pace. He’d never make it if he set off at his usual race pace. (Heck, I wouldn’t make it either.)

Of course we were later than we wanted to be getting to the course. We started towards the back of the crowd and the first couple miles guy trapped in a group. The narrow trail made passing a challenge. Maybe that was a good thing though, it gave us time to find a nice, steady running groove. By the fourth mile the crowd had thinned out a bit and we were able to settle in at a slower but okay pace.

The course wound around the outside of the state park including some short road segments. There weren’t many hills other than a good sized one somewhere around mile four but the trail surface itself required some attention while running. There were a lot of pits and uneven areas which kept the pace a little slower.

In a trail race if it’s not the hills slowing you down it’s the terrain.

Somewhere between miles 7 and 9 the lack of preparation started to show. Well, for my guy they did. He was really starting to slow down. I was being a good girlfriend and mostly staying with him, trying to encourage him along. In a half marathon the last three or four miles are the toughest. Besides, I didn’t really have any goals for this race. Because I was running this half marathon without really training the goal was to have fun and finish.

My efforts to make this half marathon thing a more pleasant thing for my boyfriend dropped off sharply right around the ten mile marker. I was stuck behind a cluster of runners we had been back and forth with for two miles because I had slowed down to stay with my guy. (First time ever that I was feeling better and faster during a race than he was.) I turned my head to see something behind me and BAM! My foot hit something and I went down, skidding on the dirt trail.

I jumped up, super mad, and assessed the situation. Blood running down my right leg, dirt everywhere but mostly okay. My boyfriend and another runner were asking if I was alright. I responded briefly, yanked a dangling piece of skin off my scraped and bloody knee and took off. No more of this slowing down and waiting around thing, it was time to finish this race!

While I wouldn’t call my last three miles fast, they were definitely quicker than the previous few. I finished the race alone and went straight to the first aid tent to get the dirt dug out of my wound.

By the time that was done my guy was crossing the finish line. I had had plans to find him in that last terrible mile but the timing just wasn’t right.

One of the first things he said to me is “That was brutal!” And then maybe I’m not doing that again any time soon.

I think we both learned something that day: You’ve got to respect the 13.1!

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The Great Birthday Backpacking Adventure: Day 3

I know it’s been a hot minute since I (finally) posted about days 1 & 2 of my early June backpacking trip along the coast of Michigan’s Upper Peninsula; time gets away from me and the summer days are packed with both fun and obligatory happenings. Hopefully you haven’t been holding your breath in anticipation of a conclusion after reading about Day 1 and Day 2. (If you’ve been a regular here you definitely know better. We’re very slow but steady eventual bloggers.)

The second night of the trip we camped in an area called Mosquito River. As I said, that was not a misnomer. The camping spot was basically a mini campground with designated spots and a very rustic outhouse (which was still better than having to dig a hole in the ground). It was right on the Mosquito River in a lush, brilliantly green forest.

Day three’s hike started here with some more mini bluffs and a steep uphill climb. Both Adventure Guy and myself were well rested and ready to go after another breakfast of oatmeal and insta coffee. With only ten or eleven miles left to Munising Falls we knew we’d be done hiking by the end of the day. That put a little extra pep in our steps. Not that we weren’t enjoying this adventure but I, for one, was looking forward to hot showers and cold beer. The fierce hoard of mosquitoes that began swarming as soon as we hit the trail added to our motivation to move quickly.

After a few minutes of hiking and probably half a can of bug spray we stopped so I could put on one of the head nets we picked up on our way up North. The guy didn’t want his…or any bug spray at first (he did cave on the bug spray after a few more minutes of fighting the swarms). Mosquito Valley spanned the first four or so miles of the day. Apparently there’s also a Mosquito Falls but we decided not to take the detour to see it. The bugs along with the lure of showering and hot food played heavily in that decision. (Maybe we’ll get back up there sometime soon for some more hiking. The area really is amazing.)

We stopped as infrequently as possible on this patch of trail. Finally, after close to an hour and a half, we emerged from the trail into a parking lot with freshly cleaned porta-jons. I never thought I’d be so happy to see one of those things but they were so clean and the bugs couldn’t get in. There was a great little boat launch here (not a small launch, rather a launch for small boats like kayaks or canoes). On the other side of the parking lot the woods began thinning a bit and soon the shore of Lake Superior was in view again. Miner’s Beach was a short mile from there and finally we were out of the high intensity bug zone. What a relief that was!

When we got to the information center and “overlook” at Sand Point a few miles later a thick fog was rolling in. Like literally rolling in. We watched the view across the bay disappear.

It went from this…

…to this…

…and then this in maybe five minutes. Maybe.

And as you can see by the angle of the trees in those pictures the wind was picking up too; rain was about to happen. Despite our hunger, the shelters, & running water available we decided to just grab a quick snack and keep moving. There was some debate over whether or not to break out rain gear; jackets, but not rain pants (actually I was already wearing mine) were donned and we picked up the trail again as it headed back into the woods.

The ground was pretty wet throughout this last section of the trail (between Sand Point & Munising Falls). Some of the very muddy areas had boardwalk but much of it had a variety of branches, rocks, & tree debris to hop and step across if you wanted to avoid the thick black mud. And believe me, you wanted to avoid that mud! I did a so-so job of it and was damp and muddy from almost my knees down.

Along with mud and seemingly younger forest in this section there were these awesome fern sprawls. They looked like something straight out of Jurassic Park…

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Can’t you just imagine a T-Rex photo shopped into the background?

The last three miles of the day (and the trip) seemed to take forever, partially because cautiously picking a path over the muddy spots slowed us down. Sometime in this stretch it started to rain. It wasn’t too cold but we definitely ended up thoroughly drenched. Adventure Guy and I agreed that if this wasn’t our last day of backpacking the rain would really suck! As it was we were kind of enjoying it; it added to the sense of adventure as we trudged through the very wet woods.

Another cool feature of this leg of the journey was the waterfalls. There were so many of them! And a lot of them were very tall. While there are a couple falls noted on the map, most of these were not marked or named. They were just out there along the trail.

Sometimes the trail went right along the edge of the falls. It was crazy and somewhat intimidating for someone who doesn’t exactly love heights (such as myself).

That tree on the right is growing straight up out of the ravine.

It’s hard to tell but the line of yellow moss is the cliff edge. All that other stuff was waaay down there!

At the very end of the trail there was a detour. That was quite the disappointment because we were having a debate over where the North Country trail came out at the Munising Falls visitor center. I thought we might hike right behind the falls where we saw the frozen falls back in February but the guy thought we might pop out right by the visitors center. I guess we’ll have to go back to see someday because we were directed out of the woods and onto a small stretch of road that put us in the visitors center parking lot.

And finally we were done!

I was hoping to get to the visitors center in time to stamp our National Parks passports… We just missed it. By maybe two minutes, probably less. There was still a park ranger inside but the doors were locked. This was our second near miss with the stamps at the Munising Falls visitor center.

I was pretty mad about not getting stamps and also very wet and tired. We threw all the soaked gear in the back of the car and turned up the heat. Sitting down on a cushioned seat felt amazingly luxurious.

We did it!!!

On day three we hiked from Mosquito River to Munising Falls, roughly 11 miles, for a total of 42 miles on the North Country Scenic trail (from Grand Marais to Munising) plus all the side run-offs for scenic overlooks and campsites… 45 miles of backpacking in three days.

Not the Time

It’s just shy of four-thirty in the morning; I’m sitting at work, a little bored. Some stray thought wanders across my idle mind, I’m not even sure what, and suddenly I want to know what her last post on Facebook was. Actually I just wanted to see her page in case there was something significant there. And then I felt a need to see what the last thing my sister posted on Facebook was. I need to know.

But knowing means I have to dig through all the other posts. The ones from people remembering her; the ones from the day of her memorial service, that emotional, hot Saturday a month ago (just about exactly). The ones in between too, in that dead period (pun only slightly intended), the void spanning the space before the memorial service. And, of course, the many many thoughtful, sad, tragic posts from friends, family, a community reeling in shock in the immediate aftermath of my sister’s sudden death.

But I’m at work. And it’s four-thirty in the morning.

This is not the time. I don’t have the space for what this look-back stirs up. It seems to be a theme of late.

Because I’m not the husband, not the parent, not the children, life allegedly moves on and fast. I’m not a part of the local community that may or may not be still coming together over the loss of their power house, my sister. I’m just out here on my own trying to carry on, politely thanking the few aberrant “I’m so sorry for your lost” type comments that occasionally trickle in.

There isn’t space for all the tears that refuse to stay in. They’re seeping out as I move from one place to the next. At work. At the grocery store. At the 4-H fair. Here, there, everywhere. But it’s not the time and this isn’t the place.

(This post is in relation to this…)

The Great Birthday Backpacking Adventure: Day 2

Day 2 of the three day, two night backpacking trip in Michigan’s Upper peninsula was my favorite day. I suspect that having slept, albeit somewhat poorly, for close to eleven hours the night before played a large part in that but it was also a day of fun discovery.

As mentioned I did not sleep well the first night; it was totally my own fault. Both my boyfriend and I were exhausted at the end of the first day. When I went to bed I was seriously dreading waking up and putting that heavy, heavy pack back on my aching shoulders. There was a slight feeling of What the fuck did I get myself into? and I was so tired that I decided against changing into the insulated underlayer I had brought to sleep in. I rationalized that it wasn’t really that cold and my new sleeping bag is rated to 35 degrees, almost freezing. I’d be fine sleeping in my capris length running tights, a tank top, & thin moisture wicking long sleeve shirt. I may have even taken my socks off…

Big mistake, folks. Big one!

I woke up maybe an hour or two after crashing because I was cold. So so cold!

I was shivering and struggled to get back to sleep. A wise person would have taken that opportunity to get out of that inefficient sleeping bag and put on warmer clothes. That same wise person would have then slept peacefully the rest of the night.

Apparently I am not a wise person. I continued to toss and turn and attempt to curl up into a ball inside my sleeping bag for warmth. I kicked my boyfriend who was totally unaware of my misery in his own warm bag. I even woke him up once or twice to tell him my feet were freezing. He didn’t even remember it in the morning. He may have been as exhausted as I was.

We didn’t start moving around until close to nine that morning; it took an hour to prepare breakfast (oatmeal, a little dehydrated fruit and Starbucks via), get cleaned up and our campsite packed back up. When I hoisted the pack on I was happy to discover the dread from the night before was gone. In fact, I felt good and ready to go see what was out there. Our goal for day two was to get as many miles in as we could while still taking the time to soak up our surroundings and enjoy the experience.

All fresh faced & caffeinated for the second day of hiking

Once again our hike for the day started in the woods but it was immediately more interesting than the first part of the first day. Pretty early on we came across an old car smack in the middle of the forest.

It very clearly had been there quite a while. The names and dates scratched in its rust patched surface dated back to the early 1980’s. Hundreds of explorers had left their mark somewhere on the vehicle. My guy and I spent a good fifteen minutes looking over the car and gawking like the tourists we were. A couple other hikers passed us by; I think they had a nice little laugh at our enthusiasm. (But really it was so cool!)

The next exceptionally cool thing we came upon was the gorges. And boy were they gorgeous!

Basically they’re a rather large cliff/rock formation/mini cave in the woods. So of course we climbed them.

At this point we were somewhere in the Beaver River Basin area. Everything was extreme green with great views of Lake Superior and the many rivers and small streams that feed into it. The day was near perfect, sunny & cool. It topped out around sixty degrees that day with most the morning in the low to mid fifties. We had lunch at this beautiful rustic campsite and then continued on to spry falls. And let me say we did not take enough pictures.

The path continued right along the coast and the elevation kept increasing, sometimes gradually sometimes abruptly.

We stumbled on a seagull’s nest on the edge that we could have walked right up to.

Yet another cool feature of day two was castle rock.

We approached it from the higher side then climbed down around it until we reached the beach.

The white water on the right in the above picture is the river shown below.

The beach was a perfect spot for a snack and a mid afternoon rest. We took our shoes off and waded in the cold water of Lake Superior.

Okay, I went in. My boyfriend more dipped his toes than waded. The cold water felt great on my tired legs and slightly sore feet. The river flowing into the lake was warm and more my guy’s speed. To get off e beach we had to climb a sort of ladder of logs set into the ascending side of the sand dunes surrounding it.

The rest of the afternoon was filled with amazing upclose views of the Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore.

Towards the end of the day we had to choose which of the many overlooks and side paths to explore. There was so much to see here and all of it was phenomenal.

Eventually we got back into the woods and started counting down the miles to our campsite goal. Because my Garmin battery was low the day before and I had not tossed the charger for it in the backpack, I wasn’t tracking our miles on day two. We had estimated the distance to the Mosquito River campsite. While that did not sound appealing the next campsite was miles away. Apparently that made it a popular destination, that and it being part of a ten mile hiking loop. There weren’t any designated spots in the Mosquito River camping area so we pitched our tent in a random spot between trees.

And let me just say, Mosquito River was not a misnomer. Unfortunately. That night was the first time the whole trip that the bugs were bad and they were probably no where near as bad as they typically are or would be just a few weeks later. By bugs I mostly mean mosquitoes. They were plentiful. At least the campsite had easy options for keeping the bears away…

…or at least not attracting them. There were signs posted telling of a bear being sited in the area. The only interesting wild life we saw was a deer that literally walked through our camp site.

At the end of the second day I was tired, we had hiked far, but I still no where near as exhausted as I was the day before. That night I made better choices and changed into the warm sleep clothes I brought. And I slept like a baby…

Actually, better than a baby, like someone who had hiked 17 hilly miles carrying a 25lb pack.

The Great Birthday Backpacking Adventure Day 1

The great birthday backpacking adventure happened, though not as expected. Unfortunately my writing about it has been delayed, first by a crazy week of work (which of course became crazy weeks) and low data on my phone and then by the shocking and untimely death of my sister (which I’m sure you’ll hear much more about… eventually). So now, over a month later, I’m finally getting around to writing about the backpacking trip.

Long story short, it was amazing.

Not making it to the Appalachian Trail was disappointing but it gave us the opportunity to log some miles on the North Country Trail. We noticed this equally impressive though less popular National Trail on other trips to the Upper Peninsula this past year and had even hiked a short ways on it once. So when the forecast for Virginia promised rain for all three days we were planning on backpacking, the North Country Trail made sense.

There’s a popular section that books and stuff call the Lakeshore Trail; it runs along the coast of Michigan’s Upper Peninsula (and I do mean right along the coast) from the National Park’s Grand Sable Visitors center near Grand Marais to Munising Falls (which is where we saw ice caves and frozen waterfalls back in February). You can park on one end, book a shuttle service to the other, and hike back. It’s just over 42 miles of trail with designated backwoods camp sites scattered throughout plus whatever side paths you take for the various scenic overlooks and whatnot.

The Lakeshore trail is that dashed line that runs…wait for it… Right along the lakeshore.

We had three days, three and a half max, to get back to Munising Falls. This meant we had to cover at least fourteen miles a day, I was hoping we’d get a little farther and get a night in a hotel (and a shower) before the 7ish hour drive home. Because this was our first experience backpacking we really weren’t sure what our pace would be. Hiking with a 25-30lb pack for the entire day is very different from the light couple hours at a time hiking we had experience with previously.

It was still chilly in the UP on the first of June; forty-two degrees which was startling after leaving eighty plus days. The start of the trail was nothing too exciting, a grassy field that fed into a woods with a river. The trail wound around a lake by way of the highway for a couple miles before returning to the forest. We stopped a couple times to adjust the packs, turns out placement of the weight is crucial for comfort. Well, relative comfort. It wasn’t until we reached the “log slide” six miles later that we saw the great lake we had been hiking alongside all morning.

And what a breathtaking view of the lake it was! Quite literally. The wind up there was a little intense.

This part of the upper peninsula, like most of it, used to be a booming logging area. The steep dunes were used to slide logs down to Lake Superior’s shoreline for transport. There was an old logging shed nearby with a sled for dragging logs in the winter and a giant cart thing for when the ground was less frozen. According to the signs most the log harvesting was done in the winter.

(I took pictures of this and a few other features of the beginning of the trail on an older digital camera but somehow managed to either delete or thoroughly hide them from myself. Doh!)

We sat at the top of the dunes, ate lunch and rested about half an hour before continuing. Lunch consisted of tuna packets, baby bell cheese, and some trail mix.

The trail was very well maintained with scenic steps built into the steeper hillsides and plank bridges covering the small crossing rivers as well as the muddy areas. It was super nice to not have to worry about wet or muddy shoes especially when we were less than half way through our first day.

The next point of reference on the trail was the Au Sable lighthouse on Au Sable point about four miles away.

It was cool because it’s a lighthouse but as far as lighthouses go it was kind of meh.

We poked around at the lighthouse station for a minute, used the rough outhouses, and continued on. Shortly after that we found the stone foundation of an old structured in the woods. It was covered in moss and underbrush type growth but you could just make out the outline.

(I had pictures on the camera of this too.)

Our goal for day one was to make it to a rustic campsite a little past twelve mile beach. We had started hiking around 9am, if I remember correctly, it was close to 4pm when we reached twelve mile beach.

I was using a hiking app on my Garmin to track our progress throughout the day but at this point its battery was running low. As were ours; both the boyfriend and I were exhausted. Twelve miles with heavy packs on low sleep was a lot! So we got out one of our fancy lightweight quick-dry towels, laid it on the sand at the top of some steps leading down to the beach, and took a nap.

We set an alarm and woke up 45 minutes later, right around five o’clock. After another snack & some water we moved on.

The group campsite just before the Beaver River basin area was about an hour away & by then we were so beat neither of us felt like hiking just a little further to the non group campsite. Plus we were starving again. At least I was. The guy wanted to start a fire; we didn’t need one, he just wanted one “for warmth”. It was admittedly chilly in the shade of the woods but when you trekked down to the water less than a quarter mile away the beach was basking in an almost-sunset glow and was comfortable.

Our “one person” hiking tent on its maiden voyage at a Scout overnight the week before the Birthday Backpacking Adventure.

After some annoyance and possible nagging on my part, he gave up the fire attempts and we hooked our tiny cooktop to the small butane tank. Within seven minutes we had boiling water, another ten yielded a complete Mountain House meal of something resembling beef stew. It was a surprisingly satisfying dinner finished off with candy bars we had picked up at the gas station that morning. We ate sitting on a driftwood log on the beach a short distance from where Seven Mile Creek (according to the map above) meets Lake Superior. Not another human was in sight, not even evidence of one, it was peaceful and refreshing; the perfect ending to an exciting and tiring day.

There was talk of watching the sunset but in the short time it took us to scarf down rehydrated stew we realized all we both wanted was sleep. Clean up consisted of adding the meal package to the gallon ziplock that help our garbage for the day, rinsing off the spoon/fork combo eating utensils and closing all of them in a scent proof bag. After we tucked anything that would possibly attract a bear (other than ourselves) into the metal “bear box” at our campsite we climbed into our tiny tent and crashed. It was maybe 9:30pm.

Total for day one: @15.5 miles hiked over roughly 7 hours.

This grief is making me tired.

I wanted to be writing about backpacking in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula today, to be sharing with you some details, lessons, and views from my recent adventure. But I can’t, not right now. Life as we know it has been interrupted. There’s been a huge bump in the road, a snafu. A shift in the fabric of the universe.

My sister died. And that’s all I can think about right now.

It was sudden. I’m stumbling around wondering what exactly to do with myself, as I have been for the past 28 hours or so. My family came together last night, all who could make it, to cry and hug (two things we do not do often); to offer support and share the pain that each of us were just beginning to feel. There’s been an outpouring of condolences, thoughts and prayers, and well wishes on social media as well as multiple organized efforts to help her husband and two young children through the next few weeks. It’s touching to see the reach my sister has had in her community. She is, or was, an amazing person. Everyone is sorry and sad.

This loss, her death, the permanency of it is only just starting to sink in. It’s still catching me off guard as the initial news did. A sucker punch to the gut, a riptide pulling me off my feet to sweep me into the tumultuous depths. Waves of numbness followed by deep, hollowing grief are washing over me, changing the shape of my soul. I’m not sure what to do with it all, not sure how to adapt, how to be okay today. Or tomorrow. Or next week.

There aren’t words in my head, there is no vocabulary for a world without my sister in it.

My sister and her daughter circa 2014

Bugs & Bears

There’s an old saying, something about God willing and the creek not rising…

Well, folks, the creek is rising. Quite literally.

As I recently mentioned my boyfriend and I have been planning a backpacking trip along the Appalachian Trail in Virginia. We decided we wanted to take a mini vacation to celebrate our upcoming shared birthday; the legendary Appalachian Trail seemed to be the ideal adventure, mostly because I’ve got a brother who lives not too far from it. That gave us a good jumping off point. The plan was to drive down, stay with him a night, and head to Shenandoah National Park in the morning for three days and two nights of hiking and backwoods camping. With that idea in mind I delved deep into the rabbit hole of planning for Appalachian Trail backpacking.

It’s a totally new world for me. I’ve hiked and I’ve camped but never have I carried everything I needed for camping, nor have I hiked from sun up to sun down. Heck, I’ve never even backwoods camped; the lovely and plentiful state parks of Michigan are my jam. You pretty much know what you’re getting at the state parks. They’re like the Holiday Inn Express of the camping set, nothing too fancy but they get the job done and you know they’ve got toilets. As I researched more about backpacking and wilderness camping a few major concerns caught my attention. Water. Bugs. And bears. (Oh my!) Specifically getting and carrying water, ticks, and bears. Frankly these are legitimate concerns especially in Virginia’s portion of the Appalachian Trail.

Water has been the easiest of the three to figure out. There are tons of efficient and light weight water purification systems out there and even more reviews or sites with people talking about each of them. We chose a reasonable priced, easily packed filter system and a back up Life Straw (I love that they give one to people in water challenged areas when you buy one). A couple bladders with straw tubes attached and another without for extra water and that was taken care of. Easy peasy as not too crazy expensive.

Ticks and bears on the other hand are a little more tricky.

We invested in “bear bag” systems for hanging food and smelly toiletries out of the reach of furry friends. (Apparently bears have an even stronger sense of smell than blood hounds.) I spent some time reading about bear interaction etiquette. A large part of the bear problem along the trail and in the more well used national parks is because of people being irresponsible. As soon as a bear learns to associate people with food they probably will not leave them alone. Eventually the problematic bear has to be relocated to a more remote area or put down. All that because of irresponsible backpackers. Not only did I not want to attract bears to our campsites but I definitely did not want to be the cause for bears having to be kicked out of their habitat.

Ticks are a fear inducing problem because they carry the infamous Lyme disease along with a host of other unpleasant illnesses. There’s a newer tiny tick species that looks like a spec of dirt but their bite causes a meat allergy. Yeah, a red meat allergic reaction that you may be stuck with for the rest of your life. I’m a meat-a-terian. That shit ain’t cool! Tick keys and permethrin along with tall, tick repellent socks were bought.

All the information and pre-planning has helped to ausage my fears a bit but with so much unknown and so little you can do about it (you never really know what bad things might happen) there has still been a lingering, lurking fear of food getting eaten by bears and us getting eaten (bit) by ticks. (I’ve talked so much about ticks and tick repulsion and such that my tick paranoia (or healthy sense of caution as I call it) has begun rubbing off on my boyfriend.) But the unknown is what makes this an adventure, that and stepping outside of the day to day comfort zone.

Which brings me back around to the aforementioned literal creek rising.

After seeing some blurb about hurricane Alberto, I realized I should probably check the weather for Virginia before we leave. Turns out a large part of Virginia, the part we wanted to traverse on foot, has been very wet this week with more rainfall in the forecast. The three days we had planned to be backpacking all had 80-100% chance of rain. Carrying close to 30lbs while walking over hilly terrain for three days sounds super fun. Doing that soaking wet definitely does not!

So, plans have changed. Instead of south we’re north bound. Instead of the Appalachian Trail we’ll be treading the lesser known but still very cool North Country Trail. The creek rising is part of the adventure, we’ll still have bugs and bears to contend with.