So there I am, two miles into a supposed six mile hike, round trip, and we see the sign saying four miles. This was one of those "Oh sh*t" moments, my backpack was already feeling heavier than I had imagined, was already thirsty, a little tired, and starting to stink. I should have known then that we were in for a long adventure. In fact, I should have known when the van got stuck in the snow and it took a half hour to get it turned around, pushing from the front, then back, etc. But with the motivation of Charlie being totally and completely surprised, and the terror of asking all these outdoor-people strangers to go back so that I wouldn't miss my shift, there was no choice to go on.
In my head, I was still convincing myself it would go by quick and I would be back to work in time, and not too stinky or sore to work. So we trekked on. A little later, a girl felt faint, and had to go back. Seeing as she could not go back alone, a boy went with her leaving two backpack amounts worth of food to be dispersed into the rest of our packs. This is where I started to get nervous. But what was my choice? Go back and waste my day and all that energy hiking that far? No, so onward ho! Then came a creek crossing, but thankfully there was a way across. Then came the second creek crossing with no way across; I should say, no dry way across. A bit of slipping and sliding and wet socks fixed this, and so we kept on. This is when I started getting tired, but also had a second wind of excitement since I would see Charlie for the first time in three weeks very soon, so we kept on going. Then a boy couldn't go on, and we stopped to adjust packs, the leader wearing one on his front as well as his back. I was trying to not think of all the potential outcomes, those of us with our lovers waiting for us (though unbeknownst to Charlie) led the pack, though eventually separating since we were traveling at different speeds. Alone and trying to self-motivate and calm myself, a crack of thunder opened up the grey sky and hail started falling like crazy. Here was one of those moments that felt like a movie, I felt like I couldn't go on, but instead of turning around or waiting for the people behind me, I took off my pack and and put my shell on, then booked it forward hoping to run into someone. Thankfully, that's exactly what happened. I heard my name being called as I was stuck like a turtle on it's back after sliding down a small hill on my bum. My snowshoes and backpack made it impossible to get up, so I had to take off my backpack again to get up. Hearing my name gave me the bit of strength I needed. By this time, it was one o'clock -- three hours later than we were supposed to have met up with the expedition group, and still no one. We decided that at one-thirty we would turn back, but at one-forty we were still walking, yelling every few minutes "hellloooo!" Just as we were literally stopping to turn around, I saw the most beautiful thing I could have seen -- Charlie's smiling face. He had caught wind I was coming from the Forest Service guy (aka surprise ruin-er,) and came and gave me a hug and a kiss and took my heavy backpack from me. I could have cried right then and there. Anyway, we got to their camp and got to hang out for a little while before the people behind us got there. Once they arrived, we divvied up the food from all of the packs, and had to say our goodbyes. Our estimated sixmileroundtrip hike turned into sixteen real fast, which meant as our backs were to our lovers, we had another eight miles ahead of us.
Our packs were lighter, we were trying to keep our spirits just as light. But by the time we reached the creek crossing again, it was difficult to. Hungry, cold, wet, and dehydrated, we had to go on. My wet feet squished in the socks leaving my feet feeling prune-y and cold. Again, it ended up being the two of us girls all alone, this time for the majority of the hike back. The four boys were behind us, three helping out the one having difficulties. We had some good conversations and girl talk, but as the day wore on, we were just making stuff up to be encouraged. We talked of people on the Oregon Trail and how much better off we were having waterproof gear etc. We talked of chipmunks and how hardy they had to be to survive in lands of snow that lasted nearly 365 days a year. At one point, we pretended we were on a game show that we couldn't win unless we made it to the van. We cursed, we laughed, we were delirious. I was focusing so much on making my next step, and then the step after that, that I had little time to think about how late it was and what would happen if I didn't show up to work. I was also worried about the boys behind us. By the time I got to the road, I was done. I was at my end. I was so happy to be on the road. But then turn after turn the van wasn't there, and at one point I was whimpering to myself, about to stop and lay in the street. But of course, we eventually made it there. The two who went back earlier had been waiting hours and hours for us, and the van was warm. We stripped off our wet socks and clothes and drank water and ate what little food we had left. Only then did I check my phone and call my work. Little did I know, everyone thought I was missing or dead. My mom was legitimately mad when I called her, but just because she had been so worried. My work had called my parents when I wasn't at work three hours after I said I would be there. After I had apologized profusely and explained the situation, there was nothing left to do besides wait. The four boys emerged about an hour after us, and we went home. One shift missed for me, and for others, a wedding and a concert.
Long story short, hikes always take longer than anticipated, always bring more food and water than anticipated, and things that don't kill you make you stronger. Four days after-the-fact and I am still sore, but it is starting to seem more worth it. I am proud of myself, I far exceeded what I ever thought I could do. I made up with my co-workers. I saw and surprised Charlie maybe more than I ever can again.
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