Years ago on a BSA back pack training trip to the Emigrant Basin, I encountered something similar. It was a very snowy May so we had to do it on snowshoes (40 lb packs and snowshoes do not mix!). We had to go Xcountry because all the trails were buried. Wherever we had to cross a creek, we found similar conditions as those described in the Yosemite video. We waded barefoot through one crossing and after that resorted to the tennis shoes we had brought to avoid the sharp rocks. The party was about half older ScouTs and half adults who were training to lead future treks. The kids scampered up and down the hills - the rest of us slogged, slid and I fell down. A lot. The leader was an amazing old guy who seemed tireless and totally immune to wet feet and cold. He was a Mormon and so we had to pray at every opportunity- I think half his prayers had to do with the folly of having an over the hill, uncoordinated female on the trip. he got even with me by taking a "short cut" up a very steep, snow covered 100 ft high 80 degree slope. We had to kick toe holds in the snow, then cling like flies and kick up a few inches while being pulled backwards by our packs. The kids just romped up and one finally took pity on me and hauled my pack up for me. when I got home I had a black eye, silver dollar sized blisters on my feet and bruises head to foot. My husband was amused by my demands for alcohol and coffee and having grown up in Minnesota, had no sympathy and even said I told you so!
Years ago on a BSA back pack training trip to the Emigrant Basin, I encountered something similar. It was a very snowy May so we had to do it on snowshoes (40 lb packs and snowshoes do not mix!). We had to go Xcountry because all the trails were buried. Wherever we had to cross a creek, we found similar conditions as those described in the Yosemite video. We waded barefoot through one crossing and after that resorted to the tennis shoes we had brought to avoid the sharp rocks. The party was about half older ScouTs and half adults who were training to lead future treks. The kids scampered up and down the hills - the rest of us slogged, slid and I fell down. A lot. The leader was an amazing old guy who seemed tireless and totally immune to wet feet and cold. He was a Mormon and so we had to pray at every opportunity- I think half his prayers had to do with the folly of having an over the hill, uncoordinated female on the trip. he got even with me by taking a "short cut" up a very steep, snow covered 100 ft high 80 degree slope. We had to kick toe holds in the snow, then cling like flies and kick up a few inches while being pulled backwards by our packs. The kids just romped up and one finally took pity on me and hauled my pack up for me. when I got home I had a black eye, silver dollar sized blisters on my feet and bruises head to foot. My husband was amused by my demands for alcohol and coffee and having grown up in Minnesota, had no sympathy and even said I told you so!
ReplyDeleteBritta Hald