Stages of Hiking

Everyone knows there are stages of grief.  Well, I'm here today to tell you about the stages of hiking.  I haven't been a hiker for very long.  It was something I always wanted to do and then I made some big changes a few years ago and decided that it was time to do things I didn't think I could before.  Hiking was on the list.  And I know I am not considered a true hiker, as my sweet husband would be quick to point out.  I am more of a....nature walker?  I do best on a hike less than 4-5 miles.  I want shade and mountains.  I want a stream and wildflowers.  Nothing too strenuous because I don't want to look sweaty in the pictures.  I like to take pictures when I hike.  And not because I am vain, it's so I can stop and breathe.  And suck down vast amounts of water.  Which only means I have to find places to pee in the wilderness.  My body doesn't really like hiking, but we do it anyway.

Stage one:  Mentally prepare.

This stage is a big one.  First you have to try to put on your pants and realize that you are eating too much toast.  And cheese.  You then need to come to the conclusion that eating less cheese and toast are not realistic and that you need to preform some sort of physical exercise.  Knowing it will at least be a bit cooler in the mountains, you decide that you will hike.  You then sign on to AllTrails, complain about how much they charge you and begin to look for a suitable hike.  Trails that don't allow bikes is a plus.  Trails classified as "easy" or "family friendly" are a plus.  Comments that say things like "I don't know if this actually counts as 'hiking'" are what I'm looking for.  I want to ride a gondola most of the way up the mountain, take a cute pic on the peak and let all of you come to your own conclusions about how I got up there.

Snowbasin.  I rode the gondola most of the way up.  You didn't know that though.

On Saturday, we found ourselves on a family vacation near the Tetons.  We decided to hike.  I consulted AllTrails and found a 5 mile out and back hike that was moderate but ended with a spectacular waterfall.  Done.  My sister, Halle, and I drove 40 miles to the trail head.  The drive was so pretty, we seriously considered it good enough and almost came back to the cabin.  Looking back, we should have.  I had my hiking pants on and my backpack full, so we began.

Stage two:  Take a quick pic

You won't look this good again today.  You will become increasingly sweaty, and exhausted until the only thing left inside of you is swear words and urine from drinking so much.  Take advantage of it, and snap a quick picture.  Also, if you don't live, they can have this last happy picture of you.  

Ah, the smiles of disillusionment.  

Stage Three:

I call this stage: "It's so pretty, this isn't bad!  I should hike more often!"  It's all lies.  It's the hope inside of you.  You still have ice in your water pack and there are still snickers in the front pocket.  Pose for more pictures.  You are still smiling.

Stage Four:

Panic- This is when you realize that something isn't right.  Your peppy attempts at talking to the people coming DOWN the mountain are not what you are expecting.  5 miles out and back.  That's 2.5 miles in.  The fitbit says you've gone >2, yet the people say you are only HALF WAY THERE.  How can this be?  What is happening?  Are we on the wrong trail?  Decide to keep going.

Stage Five:

I need to pee.  Post your people up the trail and down the trail and decided on a warning signal.  Try to remember what poison ivy looks like.  Be angry at whomever designed the plumbing system of women.  

Stage Five:

Quit.  Or try to.  Think about it.  Want it more than you have ever wanted toast.  Which is a lot.  Bring it up jokingly and then try to determine the thoughts of your hiking partners.  If you're hiking with Jared, forget about quitting.  He won't.  Consider divorce until you simply sit down on a rock while he continues onward. Once he leaves you alone, he'll send you shirtless photos of himself.  Decide to stay married.  

Last Saturday in the Tetons, this stage is where we went wrong.  We should have quit.  We did not.  The people coming down encouraged us.  "It's worth it!"  "You're doing great, keep going!"  They are all liars.  On our way down HOURS later, we told the truth.  We told people to just turn around.

Stage Six

Eat snack and pray for a second wind.  Those snickers bars?  It's their time to shine.  Stop to pee.  Stand on ledges and contemplate jumping.

Stage Seven

This is when you resign yourself to the cold truth that this is a TEN MILE HIKE.  Not Five.  Stop all talking, singing, joking.  Silence is stage seven.  Everyone is saying whatever they need to in their own heads to continue.  This stage is so introspective that you stop seeing any nature around you.  In fact when you come back down, you won't even remember these long stretches.

Stage Eight

Victory.  You did it.  You will never be the same...in a bad way.  And the waterfall?  Total disappointment.  Swear words.  Maybe some tears.  5 MILES on the fit bit.  That means this hike is TWICE as long as you prepared for in step one.  AllTrails is built on a webpage of lies.  

That pathetic waterfall wasn't even deep enough to drown yourself in.

 

Stage Nine

Realize that you now have to turn around and go back the entire way.  Wonder about how much a helicopter rescue ACTUALLY is.  Look for good landing spots.  Wonder about how cute the search and rescue guys might be.  Remember you are married.  Keep walking.  Run out of water.  

Stage Ten

Pee again.  No more look outs.  No more "someone's coming" signals.  I pee in the middle of the trail at this point.  

Stage Eleven

Do you even realize that it hurts to hike downhill?  It does.  Daydream about dinner.  And cheese.  Pray that there's enough change in the car to buy a Coke Slurpee on the way home.  

Stage Twelve

Delirium.  Loralee laughs at anything.  Consider pushing her off the cliff.  Swear words.

Stage Thirteen

Finish.  Vow to never hike again.  Take off shoes in the car and know that you may never be able to get out of the car again after you stop moving for the 40 mile trip home.  This is called "Seizing up."  I learned about it in a shuttle bus after a long day at Disneyland.  

Stage Fourteen

Hours later, in bed, after a shower.  Look at all the pictures.  Find cute ones and post them on social media with cute little lines about how gorgeous a hike it and how much you love it.  Eat more Snickers.