Coming back down ...

After eating more breakfast in one sitting than I usually eat in an entire week, we started loading packs back up to head out/down. Which should have been much lighter since we had to make so many stops climbing to the top to eat, re-fuel, find the stamina to keep heading up hill. And it was a bit for me, as I only had one bottle with water in it, deciding if I only used one coming up, that would be adequate for downhill. (The residents asked us to pack out anything that was not burn-able, so any plastic water bottles or other trash that was not paper had to make the trip back down with whomever was foolish enough to haul it up.)

I was Very Anxious about making that downhill trek. I honestly do not think I have ever been as tired as I was when we finally got to the top, and somehow decided that the second half of this Educational Experience was going to be as physically demanding as the previous day. I thought I was going to be, literally: sick. Even while saying to myself: 'Tthere is no other way. I have to do it again to get off'.

I started out, heading down. Saying to myself: Swallow your fear. Even though I know that swallowing fear causes one to have the goose-berry gallops when it settles in your bowels. My legs were very sore, aching muscles, not rested enough to get past tired. And even though the walk was down-hill, it would be almost as far in miles as the hike up the trail had been.

If we had not been so exhausted from the previous day, without enough time to fully recover, the distance back down would have been relatively pleasant. But we were all weary before we even started, so even the part that should have been a 'breeze' was far more work than I had anticipated. Plus there were several streams that had to be negotiated. Rocks strategically placed to help keep shoes dry, but without my hiking poles for stability/balance, I would have been wearing cold, soggy, miserably wet shoes and socks.

And then there were the sore, miserable aching muscles, that I had been too worn out to stretch the night before, so every step hurt, which added to the difficulty of putting one foot in front of the other for 6 + miles to get back to the trail head. When we were within about an eighth of a mile of the parking lot where we left a car, it started to rain - pouring, drenching rain. You never saw anyone snatch a poncho out of a backpack so fast, unfold, re-shoulder pack, slip it over everything and keep on trucking. An act of pure magic, hardly missing a step I was so desperate to get to the car, take that pack off, crack open that cold beer. Pure joy.