Camping with the grandkids is always an adventure. Their level of activity keeps me on my toes! I’m constantly telling them to keep away from the fire. “Don’t stray too far from the campsite.” “Don’t swing sticks around the dogs.” “Don’t throw things into the fire.” “Watch where you’re stepping.” My radar is extra sensitive as the outdoor hazards are not as controlled as they are at home.
I forget they enjoy the outdoors differently than adults do.
Recently, I got to enjoy some one-on-one time around the campfire with my 2 1/2 year old granddaughter, Brooklyn. Everyone had taken off for a few hours and the two of us were left to hang out at camp. We sat around, relaxing in our camp chairs. She started to get a little squirmy, so I asked her if she wanted to help me start a campfire.
She jumped up and down, clapping her hands. I can’t believe what I was about to do was totally contradictory to what I had been telling her all day. Without the distraction of others, I taught Brooklyn how to gather wood and start a fire. She added sticks to the fire and placed them in a pyramid. I lit them and we enjoyed a nice blaze.
She volunteered to gather more wood and stacked it neatly in a pile for later. This was a completely different task from earlier in the day when she and her older brother were throwing sticks and knocking over the woodpile.
Brooklyn and I sat in our chairs and talked about how much we enjoy camping in the woods. We listened to the sounds that appear when it gets dark in the forest. We imagined what they could be. Squirrels? Birds? A bear? Or maybe a cow that had strayed from the herd that was grazing nearby?
I had my phone and asked if she would like to listen to some music. I played American Authors and she danced around the campfire in the dark to the song, “Best Day of My Life” and “Oh What A Life”. Seeing a 2 1/2 year old dancing around the fire to those songs made my heart soar.
We were enjoying being the only ones in camp and we were doing what girls do when they camp ~ embrace each other and the outdoors. She even sang the National Anthem at the top of her lungs. What makes us want to sing at the top of our lungs around a campfire in the middle of nowhere? Maybe it’s an instinct as old as time that kicks in. Whatever it is, I love it! And so did Brooklyn.
I look forward to being alone with her in the woods again, doing what girls to best ~ making fire and singing!
When we pack for a backpacking trip, we pack the essentials to ensure our survival.
Simply put ~ Food, clothing and shelter. But, there are other tricks we have up our sleeve that we can’t do without on the trail.
Lucky charms, tradition or superstition, call it what you will. I’m a firm believer. If it works to ensure a safe and uneventful trip for us, then I make sure I do the same thing over and over again.
I wear the exact same clothes. That way there is no overthinking of what to wear. Worked last time. It’ll work this time. Unless I’ve gained weight and have to buy something new ~ which now makes me cranky to think that I have gained some weight and I’ll be a Nancy-No Fun on the trail.
I wear the exact same jewelry as I did on the previous backpack trip and I paint my nails the color of the trail I’m on.
Before our hike in the Grand Canyon, I had scheduled a nail appointment. I thought that was a silly thing to do, as I’d probably screw up a good manicure. Nope! It turns out that my nails were extra strong and didn’t break. Plus, they looked good, too! They hid the dirt well. We all need to utilize a little vanity every now and then, plus have fun with it.
Before our hike on the Colorado Trail, I scheduled a manicure. My nail technician suggested I paint them the color of the iconic trail markers. They matched perfectly! I wore the same jewelry on the trail that I had worn in the Grand Canyon.
Dale packs his lucky Spiderman bendable action figure as his co-navigator. He goes wherever we go. He transfers Spidey from his daypack to his backpack when necessary. That little man goes with us wherever we go. Why? No reason other than it wouldn’t feel right if we left him home.
Then there is the trowel I carry. It can always be found on the left side of my pack. Dale suggested putting it on the other side and I about stroked out. I don’t know why I can’t pack it on the right side ~ I just have a phobia about screwing up the good vibes. When I try to go against the grain, it just doesn’t feel good.
I have an irrational fear of screwing up good karma on the trail. So I do everything in my power to make sure I won’t upset the trail gods. All our pack trips have been successful and uneventful. So, I believe all our charms, superstitions and traditions have paid off. What are your superstitions? Do you have any lucky charms to ward off the bad vibes one might encounter in the woods?
*Remember ~ it’s only weird if it doesn’t work. *
Summertime is a long time coming when you live in the northwest corner of Colorado. It can snow one day, be 65 degrees the next, blow the salad off your plate, then rain that afternoon. I have sat in my front yard, wrapped in a sleeping bag on the 4th of July, watching the fireworks while it spit snow on us! While waiting for the weather to straighten out, trip planning is on the books.
Our favorite summer trips are the ones we take with our friends. And family, of course. But because our kids don’t live in town, anymore, we often hook up with friends. Dale and I have taken our friends fishing, hiking, backpacking, camping, boating and 4 wheeling. Going on adventures is so much more fun when shared with other like-minded adventurers. Our fun meter always seems to get cranked sky high.
I have laughed with my friends in a cabin until my sides hurt so bad that I prayed for a somber moment. I have played cards for shots of my favorite drink at an outfitter’s camp located deep in the Flat Tops Wilderness of Colorado, only to brush my teeth with the leftover rum and coke in my coffee cup the next morning. My husband and I have listened from our sleeping bags, to our camp mates in the next tent trying to herd a bat in the direction of the nearest exit while trying not to wake us up with their squeals. We all take turns fixing the best camp dinners ever ~ it’s kind of an egotistic validation type of thing. We have fished until our arms hurt from catching too many fish. We have hiked switchbacks while hollering to each other, “Hellooooooo!”, in a British accent. Somehow, I don’t think these moments in time would have occurred if it was just Dale and I by ourselves. Dignity seems to go out the window when we run in packs.
There are 6 of us who are great friends. Our kids have grown up together. Two of us are co-workers. Four of us are co-founders of a business. We all come from diverse backgrounds, but our thirst for adventure has brought us closer together.
Every trip we take together is a grand adventure in companionship. We have climbed up mountains together.
We have slept under the stars together. We have crossed over 12,000′ passes. We have hiked into camp only to play cards and cheat our way to victory (Doug!) We have sat in the hot springs of Chalk Creek together until our skin wrinkled and almost fell off!
We are more than just friends, we are a small gang.
It takes a certain type of chemistry to hang with people who like to have the same adventures as you do. It doesn’t work for all couples, but it works for us! All the decisions are made easily. All the small jobs that come with a hike or camping trip are distributed with ease. I don’t know how or why it happens ~ it just does.
Just before the beginning of summer, we will all meet at the local hangout, Chippers, in Meeker. We will get out our calendars and pin down a weekend when we are all free. We will mark it down then discuss where to go and what to do. As the special date gets closer, we will meet on a back porch to outline details of the trip. A few days before the trip, us gals will head to the grocery store with a list of food that would feed a kingdom. We will not starve.
When the day of our adventure arrives, the vehicles will be gassed up, our coolers packed, our backpacks ready to go and we all pile into our cars laughing and yakking all the way to our destination. Our trip together will be filled with non-stop adventure. We will return exhausted but with many memories that will be revisited between ourselves year after year.
Modesty, manners and appearance. Those words resonate politeness, discretion, and dressing appropriately for any occasion. Every day I strive to practice these characteristics that I want to be remembered by. But recently, I have come to the conclusion that this is not always possible. Why? Because I fear hiking has ruined me. It’s ruined my manners, my politeness and certainly the way I dress. It’s turned me into what we hikers affectionately call ourselves ~ dirtbag hiker or hiker trash.
Whenever I am on a long day-hike or a backpacking trip for a week, it’s like flipping a switch in my personal habits. My manners, modesty and appearance pretty much go out the window. My trips usually entail a survival mode so I’m not really too concerned about fashion or being classy. I can dress up pretty good when I want to. But when I’m hiking, there’s a certain type freedom I feel when I get to throw away all the con-
straints that society puts upon us.
I started thinking about some of the ways hiking has ruined me and how it has made it much harder for me to flip that switch. My hair gets tucked up into my baseball cap. Sunscreen takes the place of makeup. Hiking clothes take the place of a nice blouse and high dollar jeans. Boots take the place of my Dansko clogs. I wipe my nose on my sleeve instead of using a tissue. I drop my drawers behind a bush only if there is one available. If not, well, my hiking partners just need to avert their eyes (my poor husband!).
A couple of weeks ago, Dale and I were traveling through SE New Mexico and West Texas. We stopped in Carlsbad, NM for a few nights to visit the Carsbad Caverns NP and to hike up Guadalupe Peak. We pulled into the trailhead parking lot. The lot was filled with quite a few hikers and campers and other tourists just milling around. I still had my jeans on and needed to change into my hiking pants. Without thinking, I jumped out of the car, stripped off my jeans, grabbed my other pants from the backseat and proceeded to put them on in the parking lot, not hiding behind a car door or even aware of the people around me. I had forgotten to flip that little switch from “hiking world” to the “act like a lady world”.
There are numerous other forehead slap moments, but I thought I’d ask my fellow Hike Like A Woman ambassadors for their epiphanies, their moments when they realized they were ruined and had become a Dirtbag Hiker:
Kristin Smeltzer ~ “I think hiking has ruined me!! On the way to work and I thought…not sure if I put deodorant on before heading to work. So I stop at a shop on the way and pick some up. Waiting for my connecting train, in my work gear, and just started putting it on! No filter didn’t even think “
Amanda Lucy Haskins ~ “I came home from camping for a week by myself in Cataloochee, NC. Hadn’t had a bath all week, had been chopping wood, hiking, fishing, building fires, etc. And went to the grocery store on my way home. Smelling like a cave woman and campfire.
Covered in mud, suit, dirt and who knows what else. Didn’t think anything about it until every one started staring at me and smirking. Not to mention I shop in the upscale section of town and it was a Sunday so everyone else had on their “church clothes”. Lol”
Mara Kuhn ~ “One of my best friends always worries about how we look and smell after hiking when we go out to eat. And I’m like, “nah, it’s a hiking town
they’ll understand.” He’s a guy and I’m a girl, something backwards about that 😂 But he never wants to go to the “nice” places. I just don’t care. If I saw anyone who knew me, they’d totally know what I was up to anyway”
Gretchen Elizabeth ~ “Hahaha, that’s great! About a month ago I ended up in a fancy restaurant in the middle of nowhere New Mexico. I had just finished hiking the Badlands all day, but was still feeling pretty cute in a mostly black ensemble & flowy white scarf. Unfortunately, the ENTIRE backside of me was coated head to toe in thick, hard, caked on red mud from when I took a brief tumble down the slippery hillside. It was pretty funny to watch the whole dining room double take as I walked on in”
Kathryn Petroff ~ “When I got back home from the CO Trail last fall, I had the whole day to myself without my husband and kids. That’s a rare gem of a moment to
have the house to myself. I was filthy and tired, but all I wanted to do was sit down on the ground and read. I had no motivation to peel my hiking clothes off to take a shower…not even my boots! I just sat there on the hard ground like I was at a campsite. For the next several days all I wanted to eat was my trail food.
It took me a while to readjust to the comforts of home, and I didn’t even realize I was doing it until my husband pointed it out. I’m sure I’ve picked up all kinds
of interesting habits as a hiker, but living in a mountain town, they go unnoticed…it’s the norm here ~ This is a great post idea! Hail to the sweaty, stinky hiking goddesses! ~ Andrew (Kathryn’s husband) said to tell all y’all it’s totally hot when women embrace their hikertrash “
Jennifer Hewitt ~ “I just came off a 4 mile hike, it’s 87 degrees today, I’m hot, I’m literally dripping in sweat, I’m covered from head to toe in a gross suntan lotion/dirt mixture, and I’m sure I smell, but I needed groceries so here I am at the grocery store… and no f*cks are given about how I look or smell because I feel great ~ I love the smell of campfire on my clothes”
Michelle Carner Long ~ “I think, for me, I’ve kinda always been this way in some ways. I’ve never had much personal modesty. My motto “If they ain’t seen it yet, it time they did”. I’ve never been super girly, so I’ve never really dressed to impress. Though I’ve still wanted to look pretty. Age, has taken care or that vanity.
There’s no denying the graying hair, loose, sagging skin and body parts. Facebook has been incredibly helpful in letting go of vanity. I purposely put up and let stay tagged unflattering photos of myself. Aging is hard enough without being all hung up in it. As for being dirty, stinky and messy from the trail. I love it. No need to primp and tidy myself before seeing the public. As Jennifer said, I have no f#$%s to give. It’s really freeing. I too, sometimes stay in my nasty clothes once I’m home. Relishing the feeling of a job well done”
Tina M. Lanciault ~ “we were backpacking for 7 days in WY one year (about 6 of us) and we had just come off the trail, dirty and smelly after not taking a shower for seven days. We first thought we should go to our hotel and shower first before going to get something to eat. I was so hungry, all I could think about was eating a bacon cheeseburger and fries. We stood around for a few minutes and said “screw it” let’s eat and drink we can get showers later. So into the first restaurant we saw. Some people looked at us funny but I must say those where the best tasting french fries I ever had and I didn’t care then what anyone thought and I still don’t today after a day on the trail. I love coming home from a backpacking trip or camping trip and still smelling the campfire on my coat or jacket. I guess we’re all HIKER TRASH I love it!!!”
Ardeen Duckworth ~ “I love that, how the need to eat – and eat ALL THE FOOD – trumps everything else. I’m the same, I feel like Pigpen from Charlie Brown tromping into the restaurant, but nothing will stop me! And inside my head I am, to be honest, pretty righteous as I look at the lovely dressed up ladies and think of how hardcore I feel. And yeah, the waft of campfire out of the coat closet a few days later is the best!!”
ChuckandLorna Radcliff ~ Hiking or backpacking in Florida is just a hot, sweaty and stinky experience. I personally don’t glisten like most ladies ~
– heck no I sweat buckets in all the awkward places. My pants always look like I peed them, my back is drenched, my pits are huge circles of sweat, and my hair will be drenched. In fact, I put the hair up in a hat from the go, wear black hiking pants to camo the sweat but nothing covers or masks the unmistakable smell of sweat after a day or two of hiking without a shower. Last backpacking trip my hiking pants were literally ringing wet with sweat. I was hoping I had sweat my butt off, but it was still back there. I wear my sweat, dirt and stench with pride! This Grandma gets out there – that’s all that matters to me.
Lisa Munniksma ~ I prefer “dirtbag hiker” to “hiker trash,” but I identify either way. As a farmer, too, I am always meeting friends in town for a beer or just going to the grocery store and running into people looking a wreck–no one even bothers asking anymore.
In the end, I think it goes back to the basic fact that hikers don’t care what others look like – we are all equal on the trail. But when society rears its ugly head, all the stares and negativity start to flow. I cherish my dirty nails, crazy hair and sweaty clothes – granted there is a time and place for it – but, it’s a sweat and dirt earned from hard work and massive enjoyment. We are all ruined…. and that’s not a bad thing! And don’t forget to flip that switch!
Sometimes an adventure may come in a different shape and size other than what we think it should be…
I was so excited about the upcoming President’s Day weekend ~ that translated into a 4-day holiday weekend for Dale and I. OOOOOOOO!!!!! Where should we go? What should we do? How far to we want to travel? When should we leave? Thursday night after work or Friday morning bright and early? Should we take our camper or stay in a motel? Do we go to a National Park or State Park? Should we plan to go fishing? Do we take our side-by-side or just hike? The upcoming weekend is ripe for adventure!! The possibilities are endless!! We started our planning on the Tuesday before the weekend.
I mentioned to Dale, let’s go north to Curt Gowdy State Park in Wyoming. We had always wanted to go there and check out their reservoirs and numerous trails. It’s only about a 4.5 hour drive from us. And we have friends in Laramie a half hour away whom we could visit. Perfect! Wait. It’s the middle of Feb. Even though the water is still frozen, the trails might be dry. Then there is the horrific wind we have to deal with. Hmmm. I’ll sit and stew on that one a bit.
Let’s go west! We could take our camper to Goblin Valley State Park in UT. It’s only a 4 hour drive. It’s in the desert and we could take our camper and go hiking. Checked on campsite availability ~ nada. All full.
Okay….. Change of direction. Let’s go south! Once we cross the southern border of Colorado, the weather should be nicer (although, our winter here in Meeker has been pretty nice so far). We could drive to Mexican Hat in the southern part of Utah, almost to the Arizona border, and hang out at Goosenecks State Park overlooking the San Juan River. It’s only a 5.5 hour (gulp!) drive south through the mountains. Then there’s always the possibility of a random snowstorm. We’d have our camper and would be pulling our trailer with our side-by-side on board (double-gulp!).
Throughout the week, Dale and I tossed around these ideas. Why was it so hard to make a decision? I even asked my friends on Facebook which of the above mentioned places would they prefer to go? My sister said to come visit her in Arizona. My friend said to come visit her in Laramie and another said she liked Goosenecks. I think the rest of my friends were hanging in the shadows and didn’t want to interfere with our selection process.
As Friday morning rolled around, we found out that we were needed to work at the local artisans cooperative as no one had signed up for that day. So we spent Friday working, talking with customers, doing book work and making native Aspen wood coasters with turquoise inlay. A very fun and productive day.
On Saturday morning, we woke up to a nasty weather forecast for the southern part of the state and into the northern part of Arizona and New Mexico. There goes our trip south. The wind was still in the forecast for Wyoming ~ it always is, no surprise there, so there goes our trip north. We were contemplating on traveling into the mountains to visit our favorite town, Ouray, and stay at our favorite motel, the Wiesbaden, but we’d have to kennel our Saint Bernard, Fiona, and we didn’t feel like doing that on the spur of the moment.
Later that morning, our friend called and needed Dale’s help with some remodeling he was doing. Then Dale’s uncle called from Maybell (45 miles north of Meeker) and said if we were going to be around, he’d like to drive over and pick up the snowmobiles and jeep we wanted him to have. So, our day was pretty much shot from there on.
Sunday morning found us sitting on the sofa in our bathrobes and drinking coffee while looking at ideas on Pinterest. That website can get you into more trouble than anything else possibly can! All of a sudden, I had a wild idea! Let’s remodel the mudroom! It wouldn’t be too hard ~ we could make a screaming trip to Lowes (1.5 hours away), grab some items and start working on it. We still had 2 days left in the weekend! Brilliant!
On our way to Lowes located in Glenwood Springs, we decided to stop in and see our friends, the Gambas. We hadn’t visted them in a while and we knew they were bottling their Gamba Family Wine that weekend. We pulled up to their home, expecting a crowd of friends there to help them ~ we saw only a few cars, so we joined in to help finish bottling their 2014 Zinfandel and Barbera wine. I always like to help them – it’s the best job ever! Being Italian, the Gambas know how to put on a feed like no other. So, we bottled wine, drank wine, met new friends, touched base with old friends and ate like kings!
Five hours later we were back on the road to Glenwood. We hit Lowes fast and furiously, made our purchases, then beat it back home. The next morning, we got up, fixed breakfastthen proceeded to make a mess in our house.
Monday evening, we sat back and realized there was a reason for our indecisiveness regarding the long weekend. Obviously we weren’t meant to go on the type of an adventure that I had thought about. Our destiny pointed us in a different direction. Initially, I was disappointed that the weekend was going to be a bust, but thinking it over on Monday evening, I was contented with what all we had accomplished and who all we got to help. And I was okay with that, because every now and then it’s okay to not have an adventure ~ or maybe it was an adventure…
Earlier this year, my husband Dale, and I were hanging out in the front room, watching television and talking about the upcoming summer. We usually plan a few weekend trips and a couple of overnight hikes. He came up with the brilliant idea of going on a major backpacking trip this summer. By major, I mean, packing up everything you own to keep yourself alive for 5-6 days in the unforgiving Colorado wilderness, strapping it to your back and wandering down a trail to parts unknown.
A couple of summers ago, we backpacked three segments (42 miles) of the 28 segment, 500+ mile, Colorado Trail.
One life goal of mine has been to complete Colorado’s premier trail ~ not as a thru-hiker, but as a segment hiker. Many hikers complete the trail as thru-hikers in about a month to a month and a half. I have no desire to pound out the heavy mileage day after day, with my head down, my earbuds blasting trail music, not interacting with anyone for fear of being thrown off schedule. For me, work gets in the way of completing more than a few segments at a time. Plus, I really don’t think my body or my mind could handle more than six days on a trail at any given time.
When Dale brought up the CT hike, I jumped on it like a rat on a Cheeto! First of all, we have something fun to look forward to this summer and second, we get to plan for more segments on Colorado’s premier trail.
Which, in turn, means, we get to drag out all our CT books that are gathering dust so we can figure out which segments we are going to tackle.
Mileage is very important. We live hours from the trailheads and need to factor in our traveling time to and from the TH. Then we need to figure out who gets to drop us off and pick us up 5-6 days later.
**More highway travel time equals less time on the trail.
Note to self: Need to put in for vacation time… a lot of it….
Next, we plan how long we can be on the trail. One doesn’t just throw some gear in a pack and head down a trail. Many things need to be taken into consideration.
Given the terrain, how many miles per day can we hike? Where are the water sources? Where are the best campsites? Will there be a lot of exposure? Will we be susceptible to thunderstorms? Snow? What are the weather patterns looking like? When will the largest elevation gains and losses occur? Given the amount of snowpack, which month should we go? So many questions to be answered. Our guidebooks and maps will help to answer some of the questions. Our experience and intuition will help with the rest.
I get to plan the menu for each day and then start dehydrating food. I’ll pack our meals neatly into gallon size baggies with the order in which we eat it. Menu preparation takes a long time, but is very rewarding ~ our survival depends on it.
Lastly, I get to go through our hiking box and start separating out all our gear. That’s my favorite part. When I open the lid of our hiking box I swear I hear angels singing. I love to go through our gear, touching every piece like it’s the holy grail. We have gear for all types of weather ~ it’s Colorado. The weather patterns change every five minutes!