Wilderness First Responder- I Fell Down and I Can’t Get Up
The vibe when you enter a room of 15+ people who are into the outdoors has an instant calming effect and smells slightly of coffee and sweaty hiking boots. Everyone wants to talk about gear and their favorite spots to hike, bike, climb…insert outdoor adventure here. We’re all there for the same thing, our Wilderness First Responder (WFR) certification. Some just want the knowledge for their backcountry adventures, a handful are working at summer camps, another group are working as guides for outdoor companies and others for working on ski patrols. Either way, we’re all here to learn how to keep others safe and to help with medical emergencies in the backcountry.
What is a Wilderness First Responder?
Wilderness first responders are individuals who are trained to respond to emergency situations in remote locations. They are part of a wide variety of providers who deal with medical emergencies that occur in wilderness settings. While wilderness first responder can generically refer to anyone providing first response, this term typically refers to individuals trained and certified with specific Wilderness First Responder (WFR) certification.
What is considered backcountry?
According to the oxford english dictionary. “The back country is any sparsely inhabited area also known as the wilderness”. This can include anything from state parks, trails in the national forest/national parks, ski resorts and even well traveled hiking trails. If it is difficult for paramedics or EMTs to get to you or will take more than 30 minutes to get to a hospital, it's considered backcountry.
What kind of training do they have?
Typical courses require approximately 80-90 hours of education/training, this includes up to 30 hours online and 40+ hours in person, depending on the class options. Courses include a mix of lecture, drills with practical skills and full blown simulations. During simulations, you’re expected to triage the patient, assess their level of consciousness and any issues. You then need to decide the best way to evacuate the patient. Either by full helicopter and being packaged in a litter, a walk out or carry out.
What is a WFR trained to do?
A WFR is able to access multiple medical emergencies in the backcountry. This includes the list below but they are also trained to give epinephrine in cases of anaphylaxis and severe asthma.
Initiate and provide basic life support (CPR)
Respond to and stabilize a physical injury which includes;
signs and symptoms of circulatory shock
wounds and burns
wound cleaning and care
management of bone and joint injuries such as fractures, sprains, strains and dislocations
splinting long bone fractures
seduction of shoulder, patella and digit dislocations
splinting of joint injuries
responding to the onset of sudden illness
Recognizing a traumatic brain injury or spine injury
spinal evaluation
sroper stabilization techniques of an injured spine
ability to recognize signs of increasing intracranial pressure
Evacuation planning and implementation
How to become a WFR?
There are a few different organizations which provide courses and certification. The one STWA received certification through was Wilderness Medical Associates, the other is National Outdoor Leadership School (NOLS). Both involve an online course with 30+ hours of studying and then anywhere from 5-7 days of in person training, drills, simulations and testing. A background in medicine is not required. The certification is good for 3 years and requires recertification.
Why is having a WFR along on a guided trip important?
When recreating in the backcountry, you can be hours to days from emergency care. Being able to assess a patient and their symptoms and make decisions on their care is crucial in a situation where there is illness or injury. Anything from GI upset to a major fall resulting in a traumatic brain injury requires medical care and the ability to decide when that patient needs to be evacuated either by walking out or by helicopter.
With this in mind, if you’re looking to book a guided trip of any kind (rafting, backpacking, hiking, horseback riding ect), make sure to check that the company has their guides WFR certified. While we all hope to never be injured or ill, it is best to have a guide that is trained to respond to emergencies. If you’re someone who recreates in the backcountry on a regular basis, it may be a certification you look into getting yourself.
To learn more about the course the WFR certification that STWA obtained, you can visit their website at Wilderness First Responder.
Winter Camping- The Basics to Staying Warm
Camping in the colder months of the year can be a real treat but it also requires being more prepared than you normally would. The benefits include less people, allowing you to snag that prime campsite, you don’t have to listen to those loud generators at night or folks up partying and blasting their music. I also find it to be more peaceful, the snow silences so much and offers another layer of beauty with the frosted trees and a cracking fire. While yes, winter camping is often cold, there's a misconception that you need a whole separate set of gear to really enjoy camping in the winter. 100% not true, you can still go with what you have, as long as you prepare properly.
Top 5 to have a good time
Pack plenty of layers. They always say that you can take off layers but you can’t add more if you don’t have them. Bringing snow pants and a heavy winter jacket are integral to staying warm and can make/break your night. Warm gloves and a hat are also important. I also recommend bringing at least 2 extra pairs of socks, one pair to immediately change into after you go for a hike, sweaty feet will be cold feet. I then change into another dry pair right before bed to make sure my feet are as dry as possible.
Insulate while sleeping. Do you need to go out and buy the fanciest 0 degree sleeping bag? NO! If you have 2 sleeping bags, you can double up, or just bring lots of blankets to bundle yourself up in. A well insulated sleeping pad will help keep your heat from warming up the ground. I also use my Therm-A- Rest Z lite pad below my sleeping pad to offer extra insulation (silver side facing me). You can even take it 1 step further and buy some of that silver bubble wrap they use for insulation to line your tent with but its not necessary.
Watch the weather. Unless you have a full backcountry winter set up, I recommend staying home if the temps are going to fall below 20 degrees at night. Hypothermia’s a bitch, it's not quick like a stroke. Expect snow, even if the forecast doesn’t call for it. Sleeping during a snowstorm might be my favorite. The sound of flakes on my rain fly is so soothing and it's peaceful to get out of your tent in the morning with a fresh layer on the ground.
Car camp over backpack. If you’re like me and prefer to backpack over car camp, it can be tempting to trek further into the woods. However, car camping allows you to make sure you can bring enough layers and not have to try to hoof them in. It also gives you an easy out if the weather takes a nasty turn.
Winter set up. The one thing I do recommend investing in if winter camping is going to be a regular thing, is a 4 season tent. Most tents will run you hundreds of dollars but I got my Geertop 4-season tent for $120 and it is life changing. So, what's the difference between 4-season and 3-season? A 4-season tent has double layered walls and the ability to zip up the windows. The rain fly also goes all the way to the ground, making sure that a draft doesn’t zip up and under. The thing to remember is its important to open your vents at night to let out CO2 from your breathing. Otherwise, you can literally suffocate yourself.
Always wanted to try winter camping? Now you have the basics to get started, to stay safe and warm and to not spend hundreds of dollars. Winter camping allows you to recreate year round, enjoy some quiet and sometimes have the woods all to yourself. Just make sure to be prepared, pack enough layers and watch the weather.
The Zirkel Circle
Wildflowers - Alpine lakes - Elk
Its winter here in Denver and my mind keeps going back to my all time favorite Colorado hike so far. The Zirkel Circle is a 12.5 mile loop through the Zirkel Wilderness. This hike has been on my list for quite some time. I texted my backpacking buddy Soupsanna and we tackled the loop together. The overnight was complete with wildflowers, a chilly swim in an alpine lake, pika’s and a visit from a snorting elk.
After driving an hour north of Steamboat, my tires lightly bounced off the pavement and we continued a dusty drive down a forest road, the occasional dispersed campsite flying by as I tried not to speed over the grating in the gravel, more than excited to get to the trailhead and get started. Parked roadside cars let us know that we arrived. I went into the weeds to pee while Soup sorted her gear, prepped the pup and changed shoes. After hoisting our packs on our backs, we trudged over to the trail, a stomp through a few mud puddles and we were immersed in yellow flowers past our knees, their leaves tickling my legs as I walked past. The sound of water running was everywhere, the map stated that the trail followed a stream with multiple crossings and waterfalls the entire way.
As the trail slowly started an incline, I noticed the usual negative self talk wasn’t as strong. The surroundings were such a feast for my eyes that the usual “I can’t do this”, “Why do I think this is fun” internal monologue never really picked up. I did have sweat pouring into my eyes and I regretted forgetting my headband, but otherwise it was smooth sailing. A final trudge uphill with burning lungs and we reached the lake, sun was glinting off the surface that was the kind of blue that you only see in pictures. We drop our packs in a little overlook and I decide that I’m jumping in. I’ve always wanted to swim in an alpine lake and a dip would be a great way to rinse off the sweat from the last 4 miles. I strip down to my undies and dip my toe in. The water is so clear, I can see straight to the bottom, theres just 1 big boulder in sight and no weeds, perfect. I take the plunge, no time like the present. It’s frigid but refreshing, I doggie paddle around, bearing the cold as long as possible before dragging myself out. After Soupsanna takes a dip, we lay on a rock in the sun like a couple lizards, drying off and warming up.
The pass we need to get up and over is looming behind our heads and then we need to find a spot to camp for the night. Pulling our clothes back on over still wet underwear, we hit the dusty trail again. The final push reveals towering peaks and the blue sky is reflected in the lake below, puffy clouds passing overhead. A light breeze cools my face, which immediately is covered in sweat despite the recent frigid dip. The ground is sprinkled with yellow and purple flowers, large rocks interrupting the landscape. I stand and soak up the view and breath. I want to stand here forever and take in every detail, every sound of the chirping bird and squeaking pika.
We get up and over and start the descent, pika’s chirping at us from rocks. We decide to hike until we find an area with running water. 2 miles later, we stumble upon a valley with a stream babbling along next to it, a flat field that opens into tree-covered mountains. We wander around, looking for a flat spot. We pitching our tents and spread out gear, getting organized for dinner and for the evening. Cooking small pots of food and talking about the books we brought and the trail behind us, we then hang our food bags and I dig my cathole for the next morning. Knowing my bowels, its the first thing I’ll do as soon as I’m up. I climb into my tiny shelter as the sun sets, cozy with nothing but a few millimeters of nylon between me and the outside.
Its 9:30 and I have to pee, I drag myself into the almost dark, my head lamp casting a narrow beam through the darkness. A sudden thunder of hooves and a streak of a tan body shoots in front of me. “JESUS CHRIST” I yell! Another large body scrambles up the hill directly across from me. I realize its 2 elk cows getting a drink from the stream next to our campground. After my heart goes back to its normal spot in my chest, I squat and pee and head back to my tent. I yell at Soup “Theres 2 elk out here, just in case you get up in the middle of the night, they scared the shit out of me!”
Crawling into my bag, I can hear them rooting around going about their night time elk activities. Knowing what they are makes the sounds completely non-threatening and I start to doze off, knowing creatures are right outside my door. I’m somewhere between sleep and waking when a loud snort, clearly a few feet from my tent has me on all fours screaming bloody murder. The thunder of hooves takes off away from me. I hear Soupsanna, yell “Are you okay!!??” I’m still on my hands and knees in my sleeping bag “Something just snorted next to my tent!”. I see her headlamp shining through my rain fly, “Can you see it?”. I untangle myself from my sleeping bag and poke my head outside. “No!, I’m just emerging from my tent” I know that its likely the elk but I’m still a bit shaken. The camp up the hill is up and shining their lights in my direction, clearly having heard my screech. We stand together between our tents, scanning our headlamps into the terrain, the light reflecting off of the rope of our food bags, hanging in the trees up the hill behind our camp. Suddenly there’s 2 glowing green eyes 20 yards away, about 5 feet off the ground, attached to a big tan body. “Its the elk!” I say. “But what are those eyes up by our food bags?” asks Soup. We spend a few minutes discussing what color bear vs mountain lion vs ungulate eyes glow and decide we have no idea. “Should we walk over there and scare it off?” she asks. “Its weird that they aren’t leaving, shouldn’t they be running off?” We trudge toward the beast, me cursing my headlamp for not being brighter, wishing I had my car's headlight attached to my head instead. The elk runs up the hill toward the other camp. We head back to our tents, I decide to move mine right next to Soup’s, my brain knows that I’m not in danger but I would rather be right next to her for peace of mind. We’re now so close that we could sit up and see into each others tent. I pick up my book, knowing its going to take a hot minute to calm down and fall back asleep. I leave my tent lights on all night, hoping its not to annoying to my neighbor, that I hear lightly snoring a few feet from me. I finally fall asleep and wake around 6am, the sound of a few birds twittering, announcing the coming arrival of the sun. The usual “I survived another night in the woods” crosses my mind and I force myself out into the pre-dawn to pee. I then pick up my tent and move it back to its spot, pre-elk, 20 yards away. I crawl back in and fall back asleep.
In the morning sun, we laugh about my screeching, I didn’t even know I could channel that sound, I’m more of a Hank Hill yeller “Ahhh” than a screamer but apparently my subconscious could really let er rip. We slowly make breakfast and camp coffee and pack up our gear. We have about 4 miles to hike out, all downhill and then we’re back at the car. We pick our way down the trail, stopping at another small lake, watching an eagle soar over head and dreaming about cheeseburgers and beer and dreading the drive home, if only we could stay out here forever.
The Zirkel Circle is a trip I offer, its a easy/moderate 12 mile loop with a few climbs though mountain meadows to an alpine lake before decending into the valley on the other side of the pass.
Hiking For Mental Health
It all begins with an idea.
Finding myself in the Rocky Mountains
I don’t remember how or when I heard of the Colorado Trail, I had to be a short time after my and husband I moved out to Colorado. I just remember thinking “ I have to do that”. If you’ve never heard of the Colorado Trail before, its a 485 mile trail that crosses Colorado from Denver to Durango, it is considered “mile for mile the most beautiful trail in America”.
In April 2017 my horse died, I lost my best friend, getting out of bed was a struggle every day as was getting through work that year. I didn’t know what to do with myself, the hobby that I had poured my heart into for the last 20 years and creature that I had been tied to and devoted my time to for the last 15 years was gone and I had nothing to fill that void. Work had already been a struggle prior to that, I was burnt out and suffering from severe compassion fatigue, even a change in gears brought no excitement. That summer we decided to make the move to CO, I thought a change in scenery and the thought of new adventure, it did for a while. I was excited for the new adventure of moving across country and what types of things we would do out here besides the camping, skiing and hiking we planned on doing, the Colorado Trail was not even on my radar at that point.
6 months ago I was diagnosed with major depressive disorder/clinical depression, I’d been struggling with depression since I was 15 but things had never been this bad. My new job in Colorado was interesting every day and yet I still found a way to be unhappy. I had planned on starting the trail last summer but after a 14 mile overnight backpacking trip I realized I wasn’t ready. I was out of shape, terrified of staying in the middle of the woods at night by myself and did not have an actual plan in place. The trail was put on the back burner,I was devastated and disappointed in myself for not having my shit together.
After going back therapy and getting a career coach to figure out what the hell to do with my life, I figured out I really needed to find activities that were a challenge and scared the crap out of me, backpacking the CT was one that fit the bill. I had to use my brain; adapt to changes on the trail (weather, wild animals) and the nail biting thought of sleeping in the woods by myself in the dark. I got my butt into gear and really started to prepare, I got a map and planned out my stops, I got the CT book and read all about the different segments; water availability, mileage, good spots to stop and camp, and altitude changes. I started to train a little but I’ve always hated structured exercise, so instead I just went for it. I had been doing more hiking since last year and had started skiing and felt I was more physically prepared.
I went through all my gear and along with the CT guide book figured out what I all had to pack. I planned to do 2-3 segments over 2-3 days every month from May-September. At this rate it would take me about 3 years to complete all 485 miles. The planned start date was for the end of May with segments 3-4.
Curious about what I bring on a 2 night backpacking trip? See attached link for full list of my gear, clothing, first aid and food supplies as well as what I pack for my dog. Want to learn more about the Colorado Trail? Visit their website at https://coloradotrail.org/
Adventuring As A Solo Woman
Sometimes there will be no one to go with, so you have to take yourself.
As a woman hiking by myself, I often hear “Aren’t you afraid”, “I could never do that” and my all time favorite “If you were my wife, I would never let you do that”. Even from a young age, we’re taught to be scared of the world and to never do things by yourself. Despite it being 2022, there still seems to be a stigma on women being independent and doing things on their own. Getting out in nature on a regular basis is often something I have to do solo and I’ve embraced being a woman alone on the trail. If you were to ask my mother, she would tell you she’s terrified for my life and that I am sure to be eaten by a mountain lion or murdered by a drifter in the woods. However, I often feel safer on a trail by myself than I do most days walking in downtown Denver alone.
So how does one confidently go hiking by themselves? What steps can you take to feel as safe as possible? I always follow the same plan when I’m going out solo, whether the hike is a 20-minute drive from my house in the foothills or I’m heading into the backcountry. Here are my Top 5 for having a successful solo hike.
Plan and prepare. I always tell my husband where I’m going and when I expect to be back. I share the trail map with him, tell him how far I’m planning to go and when I plan on being back. If he’s traveling for work, I tell a friend my plan. This way if I don’t return or I’m not heard from at a specified time, they know to send out the search parties.
Wildlife. When I first started to hike on my own, I was a little nervous, wildlife being at the top of my list. To qualm this fear, I did some research. What were the actual chances of being attacked by a black bear? What about mountain lions? In the last 30 years, there have only been 25 mountain lion attacks in the state of Colorado and only 4 fetal black bear attacks. Wildlife wants to avoid us as much as possible and will only attack should they feel threatened or if they are in dire straights. Most of the time, they want to avoid us as much as we want to avoid them. If you do see a creature, should it be deer or lion, always remember never to approach.
Check the weather. Is it going to snow/rain/hail? With our crazy Colorado weather, you never quite can tell and you could get a mixture of everything. Packing enough layers and a raincoat are important should the temperature decide to drop or a storm roll in. If you’re hiking above the treeline, make sure to start early in the morning and be back in the trees or to your car by noon.
Listen to your body. If you planned on hiking 10 miles but your knees hurt after 5, turning around is never a bad idea. If something isn’t sitting right, listen to your gut, there's usually a reason. It's better to be safe than to risk life or limb. I’ve had to ditch plans for weather, snowpack, blisters, and forgetting gear. It sucks, but I’m never disappointed that I decided to turn around. I still got to be outside enjoying nature and used my body which was ultimately the goal.
Have a map. I’m no master navigator, I can use a compass to point me north but I don’t know how to navigate very well. I do however, know how to use an app. There are some great free hiking trail apps out there that will even work when you don’t have a signal. It's a great way to check your progress and see where you are should you lose the trail. REI’s Hiking Project and All Trails are both super helpful and have saved me more times than I can count when I literally don’t know where to turn.
You don’t need fancy gear to enjoy a hike on your own, just a good plan and you’ll have success. Throw in a positive and mindset, you too can be one of those ladies that your friends and co-workers will envy. Being able to hike solo allows you to have the freedom to explore when a friend is not available or your partner would rather not tag along. It also feels amazing to be a badass out on the trail by yourself.
Resources: https://kdvr.com/news/colorado-has-the-countrys-second-highest-amount-of-deaths-by-black-bear/
Best Laid Plans- Colorado Trail: Segments 1-2
It all begins with an idea.
It all begins with an idea. Maybe you want to launch a business. Maybe you want to turn a hobby into something more. Or maybe you have a creative project to share with the world. Whatever it is, the way you tell your story online can make all the difference.
The original plan was to hike segments 3-4 over 3 days with a girlfriend, these were segments with little changes in elevation and abundant water. My friend had to bail due to family, so I went it alone. My husband agreed to drop me off for dead at my starting point, allowing me to leave my car at the end for an easy get away. The night before I realized it was a 3-hour drive to the end of segment 4 and another hour and a half to the start of segment 3 and an additional 2 hours for him to get to work (6 hours total). How did I miss this detail? Segments 1-2 were much closer, except dogs are not allowed on a portion of segment 1 due to Big Horn Sheep protection, we would enter at a different trail (Indian Creek) and catch up with Segment 1 later.
That morning was its usual cluster fuck… I woke up late and Google took us to the wrong spot. Panic set in and a slew of thoughts ripped through my brain. “What if we can’t find the trailhead for my car?”, “Did we drive 2 hours out here only to go home?”, “Fuck this, if I can’t find it I’m going home”. Tears welled up as I thought about how I may have to forgo this hike and go home only to spend for the time I took off work to pout and think about how unprepared I am. Luckily I brought the guidebook along. It gave better directions than google did. After stopping, turning my car in the opposite direction and spitting gravel, an impressive feat for my tiny Saturn Ion, I realized I was in the right spot. I hoped into my husband's car, on a wild goose chase for my crazy-ass ideas we took off for my starting point. I had him drop me off at what I thought was the trail in the middle of a campground, it didn’t seem exactly right but I decided to end the husband's torture. 2 girls looked at me as my dog danced around my legs hooting as I strapped on his pack. After Dan left I checked the map, suspicions correct as I found that the trail started at the main parking lot, not in the middle of this campground. We tromped down the road, the sun was starting to shine through the trees and a few chickadees sang in the pines, the only sound in the entire place. After another wrong turn, I see a sign directing “Colorado Trail” up ahead. I jump, with an extra 35 pounds, a few inches off the ground in an attempt to click my heels together. Malcom, my adventure pup is trying to figure out how to poop with his pack and is not as thrilled.
We’re in the right direction and moving quickly, except Malcom, who is at the end of his leash, dragging behind me. He didn’t realize that he had signed up to carry his own food, water and dog bowl. Balancing my weight on my back, I slowly pick my way across a babbling brook. I hear distant thunder rumble to my back and the forest grows dark as clouds move in. Pea size ice pellets bounce off my head, we beeline for the biggest tree and huddle, waiting for it to pass. Pulling on my pack's rain cover, Malcom looks at me wanting to go back to the car. The hail stops and we march on in a drizzle, the forest suddenly eerie, gone are the sounds of chickadees, likely hiding under leaves and brush to stay dry. We keep up a steady pace up the hill, passing first through aspen groves and then to more sparse pines and low shrubs. I catch glimpses of tree-covered hills and a subalpine lake in the valley below. The water's surface reflects blue. At the top of the climb, the trail branches with a left arrow reading Colorado trail. It feels like a good time to have some lunch, it’s already noon. Sitting on a log, I munch my vegan jerky and cliff bar. Dozens of hummingbirds zoom around, drinking from the bright orange flowers lining the path. Their tiny bodies move so fast, you can barely see as they dart overhead.
The trail takes a steady decline to Bear Creek, (labeled on the map as the only reliable water source on the 16.8 mile stretch of Segment 1) I fill up our extra bottles just in case we need water. Squatting on a rock, I stick the hose of my filter in the stream and start squeezing the bulb. Water gushes out the nozzle and sprays me in the face. “What the actual fuck!” I yell, Malcom looks up from his wading session, happy to have a break from his pack, “I used this thing last summer, why isn’t this damn thing working” I say to the trees. I take it apart and put it back together and after 15 minutes give up. I fill my bottles straight from the stream with plans to boil it tonight.
About 2 hours later, I reach the spot I planned to camp but it's mid-afternoon and I decide to keep going. 3 miles later I find a spot that has a good view of the mountains and doesn’t give me the willies. I get the tent up just as sprinkles tink on the canvas, Malcom heads inside and curls into a dog donut. I stomp away from my tent, counting steps, up to 100 and hang my food sack in an old tree. We hop into bed around 7 pm and I watch the mountains slowly get dark from our tent window and listen to the rain on the roof. I study my map, counting the miles that we have left. I’ve gone 12 today, this leaves 14 to go, a long but doable day hike. I can get home a day early and use the next day to mountain bike.
I wake at 5am, surprised by how well I slept with it being my first night alone in the woods. A few birds twitter from the surrounding trees and the sound of rain still pings off my rainfly and patters on the ground outside. A steady “drip” from the tree above me right over my head. I fall back asleep for an hour and poke my head outside my tent, the mountains are covered in swirling fog and it’s drizzling, what a shit day. I pack up our soaked tent and get our food out of the tree. Malcom wolf's breakfast as I stuff a few handfuls of trail mix in my face. The drizzle continues until we reach the South Platte River and cross the Gudy Gaskill bridge to segment 2, leaving us 10 miles to go. I drag 1 foot after the other up the steep incline, bent over at the waist, hands clutching my pack straps and sweat rolling down my face, I realize I only have ½ a liter of water in my bladder that is drinkable. Stopping and standing up straight, I realize that I also didn’t boil the river water in my dinner last night long enough. Its too late to do anything about it now but thoughts of blowout diarrhea from Giardia swirl in my head and whether my doctor will treat me before diarrhea starts. This keeps me going for the first ¼ mile.
After 2 miles I’m sweating, hangry, and wondering why I thought this would be fun. I drink a few sips of clean water and flip the bird to the next 2 CT trail markers I see. We stop at a campsite just before the top of the hill. I eat lunch and boil the last of my river water (3 cups worth). I share the measly amount with Malcom, wondering why I didn’t fill up his water bladder at the river. There are another 5 miles to go before reaching the car, we can totally do this. Packing up my stove, we have another ½ mile of uphill to go. Passing the spot we were planning on staying that night also brings on the downhill. My feet stomp in cadence with my singing “to the window, to the wall” as I swing my trekking pole, my back sighing in relief of no longer doing the brunt of the work. It's quite in this area of the woods, which is the reason for my singing, a flurry of wings comes from the underbrush and I scream bloody murder. My voice echoes off the surrounding hills. Malcom kicked up a grouse, I bend over cackling as I realize that was the most scared I’ve been the entire time. The trail plateaus into a burn area which has turned a forest into a meadow. The hair on the back of my neck stands up as I see a few old deer kills. I keep an extra close eye on Malcolm who trails along miserably behind me. Checking the map on my phone, my trail app says that we are only 1 mile from the car, we cross the highway but there is no trailhead and no Saturn in sight. I recheck my phone, the app says that segment 3 starts at the road but I don’t see the trailhead anywhere close. I pull out my paper map and see that we have another 1.5 miles to go. Swearing, dragging my trekking pole and a bewildered pup we trudge the extra distance to the car.
I finally see the glimmer of my Saturn and do an audible “whoo hoo!” to the surrounding birds. Plopping my pack at the car and opening the cardoor for Malcom, I lay on the picnic table stretching, and look at my map, we hiked 15.5 miles today. Yesterday was not the 12 miles I thought but more like 7 miles. I come back to find Malcom asleep in the driver's seat. A crow circles overhead and I tell him to piss off, he’s laughing at me.
There’s no way I’m mountain biking tomorrow.