Infinity Hike
Let me tell you about a special experience I had over the summer. Anyone who knows me also knows how much I enjoy the outdoors. That’s why, when I got the chance to go on a five-day backpacking trip with a young men’s group, I cleared my schedule and made it work. I was nervous. I hadn’t met most of the boys and had few personal connections with the other adults, but you have to start somewhere, right? Still, I had doubts.
I knew it would be good for me, but there is often a strange phenomenon that strengthens as I get closer to social gatherings. I kick myself for ever agreeing. Why would I break my happy routine to spend time with strangers? The longer I think about it, the more logical it seems to back out. It’s not logical, of course. It’s the feelings. It’s the anxiety, the stress, the worry, the desire to make a good impression, the fear of rejection—a storm of nervous energy raging in my mind.
I felt that storm as I got closer to this backpacking trip. Even as I grabbed my pack and left my house, part of me screamed to turn around, set my pack down, and stay safe at home with my wife. I wanted to give in. I told myself this trip was a terrible idea, but something kept me moving forward. I made it to our planned meeting place. One final pack check and we’d be on the road. By then, it would be too late to turn around. I tried to think of a way to excuse myself and return home. It didn’t work, though. Not only did I have trouble thinking of something, but another part of me was waking up.
As often happens in these situations, my social side warmed up. It was slow initially, but it gradually began to shine through my doubts. I don’t know if it was just because I knew I couldn’t turn around, but by the time I was in a car and on my way, my doubts had been shelved. I started to remember all the reasons I’d said yes in the first place. I reminded myself that it is important to get outside of my comfort zone, make connections, and enjoy the outdoors.
Day 1
Five days with a group of strangers can feel like a long time. Fortunately, it takes much less time to start building new connections. Sometimes, it only takes a few seconds. Our group’s first connection was a bond of blood. Not blood as in related, but blood as in mosquitos. I’ve seen swarms of mosquitoes before, but this trail was something else. It was a swarm of swarms. We were annoyed at first but figured if we hiked long enough, we’d get away from them. Eventually, that became true, but we had no idea it would take four days to find such a place.
It sounds awful, I know; that’s because it was. Fortunately, we came prepared with a small arsenal of different bug sprays, lotions, candles, nets, and anything else you can think of that might deter mosquitoes. Many of us even ate a pill full of garlic oil. I don’t know if that helped, but we were willing to try anything. It wasn’t all bad, though, hang around mosquitos long enough, and you learn to tolerate them.
By the time we’d reached our first lake, about a mile up the trail, we’d already started growing accustomed to the constant buzzing. It was around noon by this time, so we decided to stop and have a lunch break. I pulled off my pack and started rummaging around for something to eat, and by the time I looked up again, most of the boys had disappeared, leaving their packs behind. That’s how I learned that, to a teen boy, “lunch break” sounds a lot like “let’s go fishing.”
As I munched on some crackers, I couldn’t help but shake my head at the scene. There’d be plenty of time for fishing later, and we had a tough hike ahead. I watched with minor annoyance but quickly found myself smiling. Fishing at that time may not have been the right thing to do, but the excitement these boys felt was contagious.
I remember looking around. Take away the mosquitos; the area would be a slice of paradise. Tall pine trees surrounded us, the lake ahead was smooth as glass and beautiful rolling clouds filled the sky above. I admired the scene and noticed another adult getting his food out nearby. Taking a deep breath and giving myself a little pep talk, I approached him and introduced myself. That simple act sparked a friendship that carried me through the coming days. He told me he’d never been on a backpacking trip before, and I was impressed that he’d made the effort to join our group. I silently admitted that I probably wouldn’t be there if it had been my first trip. Better to start with something shorter, maybe a one or two-nighter.
After lunch, we put our packs back on and continued up the mountain. The group changed positions constantly, and I found several more opportunities to talk with my new friend while also sparking conversations with others. We hiked for hours. The mosquitoes kept trying to bite us, the weather shifted into heavy rainfall, and the ground got muddy. We did our best to stay positive, but our energy levels slowly dropped. Of all these troubles, the worst was when we took the wrong trail.
We thought we were close to our destination when we realized something was off. The last two miles of downhill hiking had taken us to the wrong place. That meant four extra miles, two of which would be all uphill. Even though it put us off schedule, we made it to a decent campsite before the sun went down. Never have I seen a group of young men pass out so quickly.
Day 2
It’s amazing how much strength can come back to you overnight. We packed our gear in the morning and set out for the next lake. Because of our previous day’s mistakes, we had extra miles to make up, but we were determined. Then, the trail got thicker. Then it got harder to find. Then, there was no trail. Eventually, we found ourselves using GPS devices to chart our way through the forest. Instead of walking on rocky paths, we climbed over fallen trees and fought through bushes.
Our miles became longer due to our slowed progress. It started to feel like it took twice the time to go half the distance. Oddly enough, the boys all seemed to enjoy it. The previous day held spurts of complaints, but as we climbed and dodged, I only heard laughter. Though the journey was harder now, we bonded over the obstacles as we progressed.
Eventually, we made it to a part of the trail that had been better maintained. We marched through several more miles of mosquito-infested woods. Then came another long portion of downhill. I turned to one of the other hikers and joked that this was just another bonus hill we were going down so that we could climb back up it. A few minutes later, I felt bad for that joke because it actually came true. No one was happy about that one.
Our trail went cold again, so we returned to the GPS devices. This time, we made our path through a large section of lava rock. No plants were in sight, just jagged, unstable rocks in every direction. I’m still impressed that no one rolled an ankle. Somewhere in the rocks, our group split up. Most of the boys had run ahead with a few of the leaders, and I couldn’t help but feel like this was the start of a story with a bad ending. I could even picture the headlines of “Lost Boys in the Woods.”
It took some shouting, but we got our group back together just before reaching our next lake. This lake, the one we were supposed to have camped the night before, was by far the most beautiful one we’d seen. Where other lakes had green water full of moss and bugs, this one shined blue and was tucked away in its own little valley. We stopped for lunch, and once again, the boys pulled out their fishing rods.
I sat down with one of the other adults and exchanged frustrations. We weren’t halfway done with the day’s hike, and we knew the fishing would set us back. We expressed our concerns to the other leaders, but they weren’t as worried about it as we were. We quickly found that we couldn’t do anything about it, so we ate lunch. The smell of our cheese and crackers must have taken to the air because one of the boys put his rod down, the line still in the water, and left to get his own food.
No one noticed when his rod started bouncing up and down. I even walked right by it without giving it a second glance. Then, one of the leaders noticed it and casually strolled over. Without a word, he picked up the rod and reeled in our trip’s first and largest fish. That’s all it took. Suddenly, our plans changed. If this lake had fish, we’d stay the night here instead. So that’s what we did. We could always make the miles up later, anything for a good fishing spot.
The decision to stay helped everybody’s mood. Most of the group spent the rest of the day fishing, and several more fish were caught. By dinner time, we had enough to cook up a decent meal. We built a large fire and gathered around it while we ate. To our delight, the mosquitos started leaving us alone. We joked and laughed and connected over the day’s hardships.
Days 3-5
The next three days got a little better. We made fewer wrong turns, though we still made a couple, and made our way with fewer issues. That didn’t mean it was easy. We still had to fight off the bugs, and most of our hiking was uphill. The most notable part was on day three, as we climbed a hill that seemed never to end. We thought we’d filtered enough water that morning, but our bottles quickly ran dry as we journeyed upward. We passed ponds, but one look revealed they were unsafe to drink. Whenever we thought we saw the top, it turned out to be false. When we reached our destination, a lake with drinkable water, many of us were dehydrated and beyond exhausted.
As hard as the climb was, the path rewarded us with a sudden lack of bugs. We’d finally reached a high enough elevation that it was too cold for the mosquitos. On the fourth day, we had a small bit of uphill, then the mountain plateaued. It was mercifully flat, with several water sources along the way. The only problem was that I made the mistake of choosing not to eat lunch that day. I wanted to get the miles over and figured I’d be strong enough to endure.
I did well enough at first. The path remained flat, and we eventually came across a portion of downhill nearly as endless as the uphill of the previous day. We saw wildflowers and green pastures and happened across a herd of majestic elk. It wasn’t until we reached the bottom of the downhill that things turned for the worse, and we had to go up again. Naturally, that’s where my body began to feel the lack of nourishment.
By the time we reached our camp, I could barely stand. I’d been exhausted before, but I’ve never felt that depleted. Several times along the path, I had to stop, sit down, and try to eat something. Not because I wanted to but because I had no other choice. My feet would not move. Each snack break helped, but my body was already spent, not to mention that with the lower elevation came the swarm of swarms.
Of course, I did find my way to our camp; it just took a while. When I arrived, I saw a group of men and boys who all looked just as tired as I was. We spent the evening around a campfire and had no trouble sleeping that night. When morning came, we packed up one final time and descended a one-mile hill back to our vehicles.
The Return
When I started this story, I called this whole ordeal a “special experience.” After hearing all this, it might be easy to think I meant it sarcastically. The truth is, I genuinely loved it, and I find that incredibly interesting. When I think back on my memory of those five days, pain and suffering are at the forefront, yet it makes me smile. It’s not that I’m happy for the suffering, but I am happy to have suffered alongside others while experiencing the world in a way few others get to.
When camping, especially on big trips, your way of life drastically differs from back home. You suffer, but it’s not without reward. Like most things worth doing, you have to put in the work. A runner does not get fast unless they train, a linguist does not learn a language unless they go through the uncomfortable process of saying things wrong, a singer doesn’t get to the stage without singing some wrong notes, and a hiker does not get to see and experience the joy of mountain views or the unique connection amongst peers without uphill and mosquito bites.
Poem: Brothers of the Endless Hill
If you like the story you just read, you might want to try reading the poem it inspired titled: “Brothers of the Endless Hill”
Click Here to check it out.
