Koip

July, 2013

To celebrate the Fourth of July this year, I set out on a backpacking adventure in Tuolumne Meadows in Yosemite National Park along with two dear friends. The friends, Caitlin and Susannah, are both amazing young women who are achieved athletes. Caitlin played Division 1 soccer for Bucknell University and has those amazingly well defined quad muscles in her legs which are both hot and could kick your ass . Susannah is a friend I made in the Golden Gate Triathlon Club’s HIT (Half Ironman Training) to Wildflower. She, too, is what I deem a superstar athlete with thosequads. Life goals.

I was pretty pleased with my athletic prowess too though! If you know me, you know I work my ass off to get stronger, faster, and more awesome. To the point where I often stay in on a Friday night to be fresh for an early Saturday morning ride or run. Gasp. A week prior to this adventure, I ran the Double Dipsea which is a race from Stinson Beach to MIll Valley and then back again! Impressive, eh?! Disclaimer: I finished the race but not exactly with grace, style, or speed. But still, I felt strong when embarking on this 2 night backpacking trip in the splendors of California!

And so, we set out on our journey. Backpacks full of the usual backpacking gear: Snickers bars, sleeping bags, m&ms, tents, wool socks, a trowel, stove, and of course, half the Trader Joe’s store we hit on our way down. The usual. And what was not so usual to me when I was leading kids in the glory days of my early 20s: a flask of Makers Mark. It was going to be a good trip!

Within the first, oh, mile, I quickly realized this backpack was heavier than I recall from those days as a 22 year old, hiking at 9,000 feet is different than sea level, and crap, I was with two pretty impressive athletes. We trudged on that first day, over creeks, up and over Parker Pass, and into the glorious, magical, and astounding backcountry. Along the way, we chatted with other hikers who, when we told where we were going, kept regaling tales of what we were to reach at mile 10, Koip Pass. Words like “epic”, “terrible”, and “oh my god”, kept finding their way to us in descriptions of this pass.

And so, roughly 4 hours, and 10 mini Snickers bars later, we reached the foot of this pass. It didn’t look so bad. Just 1500 feet of vertical climbing over a mile or so. NO PROBLEM! Switchback after switchback (after switchback) on talus rocks, earning us astounding views of Mono Lake in the distance to the East, and to the West, each switchback earned us views of the exposed scree terrain below. One misstep, one overpowering gust of wind, and down we would slip to a certain death. omg.

Susannah led the charges, easily 10 switchbacks ahead of Caitlin and I. Caitlin hiked strongly in front of me, and there I was, pulling up the rear. By the time we reached the top of the pass, I was physically exhausted, but worse, mentally exhausted. Exhausted by the scenarios of a slow fall to my death, being eaten alive, slowly, by the scree. Tired thinking about what hiking down the other side of the pass would bring (my downhill skills are not exactly graceful), but mostly, I felt defeated by what months of training led me to: not being able to keep up.

And down we hiked, me way in the rear carefully gauging each step. We were in the quintessential backcountry, hiking out to a lake in a valley wedged between mountain peaks. It was perfect, and we were finally there....only moments until that terribly heavy backpack would no longer torment my back and shoulders.

But wait. Caitlin and Susannah are still hiking strong along the lake, with plenty of perfect camping spots everywhere. “Please stop”, I pray. But no stopping. Just hiking. Alas, I take the pack off, sit down on it, and have a good cry. I have been completely defeated. Not by Susannah or Caitlin, but by myself. By my lack of confidence to hike quickly down the mountain, by being too slow to hang with the big kids, by the months of time and money I have poured into training not really proving anything to me.

But, while I am sitting here, wallowing in self- pity and insecurity, the campsite is getting no closer. And so, I pick myself up, dry the tearless tears, and hike on. We make it to a serene spot on the far side of the lake and set up for what will be an evening full of buritos (complete with avocados and everything!), mini snickers bars, fresh iodized water, and wind raging through the valley at alarming speeds. The hike is a distant memory in the past. This is truly perfect.