Goin’ to the Backcountry

The Sierra Nevada stretches 350 miles through California and hosts a rich diversity of species (according to a postcard I bought)….and I’ve never seen anything so gorgeous in my life.  I mean, I’m from Oklahoma, the flattest state in America…I’ve PASSED mountains on the highway and seen them in movies… but never actually been inside them.  (I don’t think the Oklahoma Quartz Mountains count…those are more like hills)

The first day we went sightseeing…I hung out inside this Sequoia. I felt like the Lorax.

The hollow inside comes from lightening striking the tree.  Yogi, who I met later, likes to sleep in them.  He calls them vaginas.  They also remind me of childhood – hidden forts, tents, secret meeting places.

The General Sherman tree is enormous.  People gather around it silently, like they are in a museum…you are so overcome by immensity, this raw power of nature, that something can grow this big and ginormous…like something from a movie set, only better, ’cause there is no CGI or set designers…this shit is real.

This deer was just hanging around.

The next day we started the hike at 7 a.m.  I was half-awake, which is why I didn’t freak out when we almost immediately saw bears.

One was scraping the bark for insects…Katie let me get a few pics then barked them off.

11 1/2 miles is a long way to hike.  But you forget to be tired, because every corner you turn takes your breath away.  Like postcards come to life. Between the altitude and the scenery, you feel like you are on drugs…only better.  I kept thinking of Ewoks and the Hobbit and Little Red Riding Hood…

Three times a week these donkeys bring supplies to Bear Paw.  Katie told the guy leading the train “Thanks for our dinner!”:

We took a nap by a stream.  I had no idea I could fall asleep on a rock…but it was the best nap EVER, with he stream rippling by me, the sun on my face.  These flat rocks are the best spots to camp, they stay cool in the heat.

The last two miles are the hardest.  Katie made me stop ever couple of hundred feet and hang in the shade.  It was all uphill, and I thought I was gonna die.  But then we turned a corner and there was Bear Paw waiting for us, like Mecca:

The first thing you do is drink lemonade and eat a brownie.  Best. Brownies.  Ever.  And sit on the porch.  And this is the view.

Then I slept, and Katie woke me up for dinner.   This is the dinner bell:

The food is incredible.  Maybe it is the altitude that does it, but it is like tasting bread for the first time.  And we did shots of tequila.  And I almost passed out at the table.  I went back to our tent and fell asleep for 12 hours.  The best sleep of my life.  And I woke up to this:

Katie (such a badass) had gone on a 13 mile hike in the backcountry.  So I hung out with Yogi Bair.  Yeah, that is his name. He’s amazing.  He wrote a book about living in the backcountry (tell you more about that later).  He’s been there since the 80′s.  The longest he’s gone by himself in the wilderness is 21 days.  I want to write an article about him…he’s kind and thoughtful and hilarious…but also tough as shit.  And he loves to read.  We sat there and drank beer and read.

NO CELL PHONES.  NO EMAIL.  NO ELECTRICTY.  Just you and the backcountry.  I felt both elated and calmed.  I wanted to stay forever.

Even though my legs hurt, I went on a hike by myself.  Everything I saw made me gasp.  And Yogi says that is nothing compared to what else is out there, beyond, in the depths of the backcountry.  Places you can only go on foot.  I want to see it all.

I took self-portraits:

Dinner that night, so great.  We sat around on the back porch and talked.  You stop caring about how you look or smell.  Everything exists in that moment.  I suddenly understand that cliched saying, and it doesn’t seem so cliche:  God’s country.

But eventually we had to leave.  I was sad.

The hike there took 7 hours, but the hike back only took four and a half.  I cried when we left.  I cried a lot, actually.  It puts things in perspective, seeing the world this way.  Makes all those things I worry about on a daily basis seem insignificant and meaningless.  I want to go back.  Soon.  I want to see more.

Incredible.  Surreal.  Oh yeah, and I can’t walk up the stairs…but it is worth it.  SO WORTH IT.

Thank you, Katie, for showing me this world.  I can’t believe what I was missing.PS and I did something else I never imagined myself capable of doing…I pooped in the woods.  Actually, it was kinda liberating.  I might become a granola girl…no makeup, the whole deal…except  I’ll still shave my legs.  No need to go crazy here.